"Bring Stefan Back Fanfiction Challenge"   Nightmares By KrunnerH   When he had been brought in, his body dumped in front of the hospital doors, it hadn't looked good. His face was scarred, bloodied and bruised. His body wracked by a fever caused by infection that doctors had every reason to believe would kill him. It wasn't raining, but his entire body was soaking wet, at first it seemed because of the fever, but one nurse commented how it almost seemed like he had been submerged in water. He seemed like a lost cause, and as he slipped into a coma, it furthered the belief that John Doe wasn't meant for the world much longer. They were able to bring the fever down, but how much damage had been done, no one could tell. All they knew was at night they would watch with curiosity as the mystery man that was all alone, seemed trapped in his own private hell.   "I got you!" A young Stavros feigned pain as he collapsed to the floor, holding the toy sword Mikkos had bought for both of his sons on a trip to Spain. Stefan creeped up and leaned over Stavros, a grin passing over his face as he prodded and poked with the blunt end of the sword. He jumped back as Stavros leaped up and the boys continued to dual outside the home out of sight of either of their parents. Eventually exhausted, both boys threw down their swords and fell to the ground, trying not to dirty their clothes or risk facing their mother's wrath. "Want to play again?" Stefan asked, as he tried to catch his breath. Stavros shook his head. "I'm sick of playing. Who wants to pretend to be a prince when we are princes," he threw his arm around Stefan and the boys began making their way back to the house. Stefan took his sword and placed it through the loop on his belt. "Mother will be home soon" Stavros could hear the disappointment in his brother's voice. He shrugged. "Maybe she'll be in a better mood. Maybe she'll come back and I can stop having to take lessons and get to play like you," both boys laughed at the silly fantasy, but abruptly stopped when Helena stepped out from around the corner. She frowned. "Stavros, it's time for your lessons," she looked disdainfully upon Stefan. As Stavros followed Helena, he looked back and made a face at Stefan, forcing Stefan to race around the other side to keep from laughing. Her body sat up like a bullet fired from a gun. Her entire body soaked from sweat. Another nightmare. She looked down at her hands. They were clean...well, as clean as they would ever be. She struggled to get her breathing back in control as she tried to remember what had sparked the nightmare. Helena. Blood. Her mother. Kristina. She hadn't had nightmares like this since she was a child. Then they were blurred faces and she was too young to understand what it all meant. When Luke Spencer had filled in the stories the confusing images had ceased and she finally was able to sleep peacefully. Relatively so. But lately, Alexis had been having the nightmares again. The gleam of the knife, the stickiness of the blood, the cackle of Helena's laugh, the coolness of her mother's touch, the rhythmic beating of her sister's heart as she placed the baby into safety, and lastly the feel of her father's arms grabbing her, tryng to stop her from touching her mother's bloodied corpse. Lately she had been having the nightmares...since Stefan's death. Because she realized she was all alone and that no one could protect her now. She walked to Kristina's crib and ran her hand over the baby's belly. She slept in deep slumber, oblivious to the nightmares around her. Alexis sighed and grabbed a book on the dresser. She wouldn't sleep tonight.   Stefan grabbed his brother's hand as the older boy walked down the stairs. "I need to talk to you." Stavros looked at him disdainfully. Stefan shook his head. His mother would be proud. In five short years, his faithful playmate had become a cold and calculating prince. His features had sharpened and he was looking more and more like their father. "I don't have time, little brother," he rolled his eyes. "I have an empire to run." "You're learning to run it," Stefan corrected. "Father's still in charge." Seemingly unprovoked, Stavros rushed Stefan and pinned him against the wall. "You better watch your tone. Father won't be around forever." Stefan tried to push Stavros off of him, but a round of untreated pneumonia had made him feel weak, and he wasn't able to. With a sly grin, Stavros let go when he heard the slam of the car door. "She's back." Stefan frowned and to his surprise, Stavros did as well. "I thought she would be gone longer," the elder admitted. "I thought she would come back in a better mood after seeing the opera," Stefan said. "STAVROS!" Stavros ran off to do his mother's bidding while Stefan went to the back of the house. He heard the sound of his father's car hitting the gravel road that led to the servants quarters. He hid behind a tree as his father stepped out, his face pale and worn. He nodded toward the car. "Get her cleaned up, I'll be back later." He jumped when he felt a slap on his back. Stavros. "Well, what do we have here," the elder brother grinned as they watched the frightened young girl climb out of the car. "What an ugly little thing," Stavros frowned. "Who do you think she is?" Stefan asked. His eyes widened when he noticed the red hands of the girl. "She's nobody," Stavros shrugged. "Now, let's go, mother wants you."   The nurse began to check his vitals. She smiled sympathetically at the man. She had been yelled at by her supervisors for taking an unusual interest in John Doe, but she couldn't help finding him interesting. There was something regal and dignified about him, even in a coma. She imagined a deep baritone voice, with a stern face that occasionally cracked a smile. Sofia sighed and ran her hand over his face. He felt warm and she noted a slight elevation in his temperature in her charts. "Who are you, John Doe?"   "Do you know who you are?" Her voice rang in his ears and he struggled not to wince at the pain is caused as the sound reverberated in his head. He struggled to remember how he got here. He had heard about his youngest sister's death and was on the plan to go home when there was a problem and... Helena. "Do you know what you are?" her question varied slightly. When he didn't answer she continued. "You were a mistake," she hissed. "An accident. A reminder of a night I want nothing more than to forget." It wasn't anything new to him. She had said this to him since he was a child. "Do you know what you are?" she kept repeating. "Do you know what happens when your father drinks too much? When he's angry and doesn't care what he's doing or to whom?" her frown deepened and for a moment Stefan swore he saw vulnerability in his mother. "You are a reminder of a drunken, horrible night." He was taken aback and she saw it, slapping him in an attempt to gain control. "What is your plan now, mother?" he tried to regain his composure and let out a bored sigh. "Poison me? Incapacitate me? What?" "I want you to suffer," she turned away from him and motioned to Andreas. "I want you to feel as helpless as I did that night. I want you to watch everyone betray you despite everything you did." And that's when he walked in. His face. His mannerisms. A bum hired off the street. Undoubtedly promised exorbitant amounts of money for the pain and suffering of facial reconstruction and voice configuration. Little did he know how little time he would have to spend it. "They'll never believe you," Stefan shook his head. Helena ran her finger down the side of his cheek. "They will. You'll see."   Nikolas rubbed his face as he sat up in bed, seeming to wipe the nightmare from his mind. He felt a gentle hand rub his back. "You okay?" He turned and gave a slight smile to Emily. "Just a nightmare." "Again?" she frowned. "You've been having a lot of those." He nodded and worked on the kink in his neck. "Since my uncle died," he informed her. "It's okay," she wrapped her arms around him. "You don't have to worry anymore. I'm safe. We can be together. He's gone." He kissed her and she laid back down. He stood up and went to the large window, pulling open the drapes slightly to see the moon. He didn't want to tell her that what she said was exactly what he feared. "Someone needs to get in here," a nurse shouted. She had been checking in John Doe's room when he began to writhe in bed. A quick check of his temperature noted that his earlier fever had spiked. 106. "I thought you said the infection had passed," she yelled as the doctor and sever nurses ran in. "It did," the doctor frowned as he checked John Doe's pupils. "Something's happening inside his head." Perhaps it was time to just give up. He had been fighting so hard for so long and for what. Before Helena had tossed his lifeless body into the sea, he had watched his family take in the stranger. He watched as Nikolas hugged the man. He watched as Alexis came to him for his help. And no one questioned the change in personality. Not when he blackmailed Alexis. Not when he forced his beloved nephew into a loveless marriage. Not when he borrowed money from the family that had broken up his by killing his sister. Not even when they all believed he could try to kill Emily Quartermaine. But he refused to show emotion until they buried "Stefan" and he realized that no one would wonder about him. All during his impostor's venture into Port Charles, Stefan held firm to the belief that someone would realize this man was an impostor. But the burial of "Stefan" marked the end. Was it worth it anymore? It would be so easy to close his eyes and let his mother's work finally claim him. He began to shut his eyes. He knocked tentatively on the door, waiting only a moment before attempting to bolt. He shouldn't have come. It wasn't appropriate. "Come in." Her soft voice beckoned him and he opened the door a crack, allowing his head to barely be seen. "Hello Stefan," she gave him a sleepy smile that was illuminated by the moonlight. "You want to see him?" she nodded toward the bassinet. He looked at her, eyebrows raised. She shook her head and shrugged. "Stavros isn't here. Too busy celebrating the birth of the next Cassadine heir. I think he was drunk and passed out." Feeling bolder, he sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his, pressing his lip against her palm. "I'll be only a moment, you should rest." "I'm glad you came," she said softly. He glanced over at the baby in the bassinet. "So this is my nephew Nikolas," his voice was hushed in fear of waking the sleeping baby. "Stefan, we both know there's a chance..." "Hush," he put his finger to his lips. "It's best this way, Lasha. He is safer if no one wonders..." he looked longingly at the baby. "You should hold him," Laura said. "If only for a moment." He shook his head vehemently. She smiled and slowly maneuvered out of bed, gently placing her hands under the baby's back before lifting him. Stefan froze as Laura placed Nikolas in his arms. He never knew he could feel so many things at one point. He felt like his heart would burst as Nikolas opened his eyes and wrapped his tiny fist around Stefan's finger. "He's so beautiful," he couldn't help the tear slip down his cheek. "Nikolas, I will always be here for you," he kissed the baby's forehead and handed him back to Laura. "Thank you," he could barely get the words out. Laura stared at him, tears running down her own face. "Promise me," she urged. "If anything happens to me. You'll always love him." "I promise."   Sofia let out a sigh. "It's lowering," she couldn't help but smile, much to the displeasure of her supervisors. The doctor nodded satisfied that he did his job. "I don't see why we bother. There hasn't been any improvement in this man in over a month." She adjusted the sheet and watched as the doctor left the room. "Something or someone is keeping you alive, John Doe," she whispered. "We just need to figure out who it is."