The sounds of footsteps falling all around his house made Sonny grit his teeth. Cops, federal agents... there was an army of badge carrying do-gooders in his home, looking for clues, marking evidence, trying, they claimed to help.

He wanted to believe it. He hoped they wanted to find Kristina more than they coveted a chance to use their unlimited access to his life in order to bring him down. And so despite everything in him that screamed not to, that fought for self-preservation, Sonny had sat down at his desk and written a list of his safe houses. And then, at Reece's request, he had made a list of all the people he could think of who might want to hurt him. He did it all because he wanted to be wrong this time about the authority figures who had been his enemies for so long.

But he didn't think he was and he didn't think they would end the nightmare. Sonny felt like he was the only person he could trust to bring Kristina home in one piece... and he had to do it. He would play along and do as he was asked because he no longer had a choice. But in the end, he believed only in his own ability to bring Kristina back.

As the search upstairs ended, Sonny walked past Durant and Reese and headed up to his bedroom. His room... the crime scene.

[i]"You leaving the scene of the crime?"[/i]

The memory tore through him as Sonny's eyes jerked toward the bed. The shy look on Alexis' face that morning had amused him so much, and he'd been unable to stop himself from teasing her.

So long ago, he thought, but so important. Their daughter had already been forming inside of Alexis that morning, back when they were friends and more and when trust had been the thing between them Sonny had thought unbreakable.

The memory faded as Sonny focused again on the bed. Kristina had been here, in his bed, in his room, in his home--and now she was gone. All of his protestations about being able to protect her, being able to make a safe home for her had blown up in his face and Kristina had been taken from his very own private sanctuary.

Disgusted with himself, Sonny walked out of the room and down the hall. The door to her room was closed, and so he twisted the knob, pushing it open. He then flicked on the switch and leaned against the jamb as he took in the sweet and girlish room.

She'd never even slept here. The twin-sized canopy bed lay perfectly made, untouched by Kristina's tiny hands. Toys lined the shelves neatly. It was all just waiting for her to come back and discover it. But there were no guarantees she would be seeing it and he knew that. Bringing Kristina home didn't mean she'd ever be coming here to this house, to this room, ever again.

How many times had he mocked Alexis' fears? How many times had he laughed at her behind her back or lectured her to her face on how "his" guards and "his" security system were infallible? God, he'd been smug about it. Even when he knew he was being ridiculous, Sonny realized he'd let those condescending, mean-spirited words come out of his mouth because more than anything else, it pissed him off that Alexis kept calling him on things that everyone else just let go. But what had he expected? She had always been the one to throw up her hands and tell him she wasn't buying what he was selling. Had he really thought things would change now just because he'd manipulated everything to give him the upper hand in their custody situation?

He could admit that now, too, here in the quiet with no one around. Alexis knew him so damn well. He hadn't exactly bribed the judge, but surely he had worked the system to get what he wanted so that he could dictate to her about their child the way she wanted to do to him. And Sonny knew, too, deep down, that he'd done that not because of Kristina but because Alexis was the only person on Earth who really thought she could tell him what to do and get away with it, and he'd wanted to prove her wrong.

But she wasn't wrong, was she? She had told him over and over again that his life would put Kristina in danger. And he knew in his gut that she had been right. He still didn't know who had their daughter, but Sonny knew the plot, at its root, was about getting back at him. That's why the kidnapper had taken Kristina from his home. It was a message that had come through loud and clear. No one you love is safe, anywhere.

He needed a drink. Hell, he needed a bottle and some quiet, but he couldn't spare himself either. The kidnappers wanted something, even if it was just to see him suffer. And Sonny had to give it to them whenever they came calling. Everyone kept telling him he needed to sleep or to eat or to rest. How the hell was he supposed to do that when he'd broken the most important promise of his life, when his baby girl was out there wondering where her mama and daddy were?

Then he asked himself, did she wonder where he was? Did Kristina even know him well enough to miss him? He was always telling Alexis he wasn't worried about Kristina getting to know him, they had time, she'd love him. But now...

Now he knew that when Kristina came home, the first thing Alexis would do would be to try to shut him out of her life forever. And what would his defense be? He'd hire more guards? He'd install better security?

The very idea of getting her back only to lose her again made his gut ache, but Sonny knew he couldn't think about that right now. He had to stay focused on bringing Kristina home, and whatever came after would come. Once she was safe, he would face that.

There would be plenty more to deal with that nothing to do with Kristina herself. Michael's questions only got harder with every passing hour. Why would someone want to hurt Sonny by taking Kristina? Why hadn't the guards been able to stop them? Could they take him or Morgan, too? Could "daddy" keep them safe?

Safe. Sonny had justified a lot the past few years by claiming safety was an illusion. Anyone could get hit by a car or killed in a robbery or snatched off a playground--not being part of his life didn't change that. But as the nearly hopeful scenario that Sam had taken Kristina out of some misguided motherly emotion faded out of existence, Sonny had come to see what Alexis had been trying to tell him for so long. There was "safe" and there was safe. Kristina would have still faced risk in her life as just any child, but the risk of being his child... that's what had made her a victim.

A chill ran through him at the word. Sonny closed his eyes against the visions that tried to play out at the very implication of what those six letters put together could mean for his child. He stood, eyes still closed, and went to move out of the room, stopping only when his leg bumped into the little art table midway between the nightstand and bookshelf.

The impact drew Sonny's eyes open and pulled them toward the object. And that's when he saw it. He couldn't imagine when it had been drawn... he didn't remember Brooke Lynn ever saying they were coming to Kristina's room, but they must have because there was no other explanation for how the picture had come to be.

The small chairs were pushed neatly up against the table, but Sonny drew one back and huddled down into it. His hands trembled as he picked up the picture. He'd have tried to hide it if anyone else were around, but here, alone, he let it go. Mostly the "drawing" was made up of squiggles of color. Every now and then there was a perfectly shaped star or crescent moon within the squiggles, clearly drawn by Brooke, probably at Kristina's behest. Sonny could hear her little voice saying happily, "There! There!" as she pointed to where she wanted them placed, just so.

The top right corner of the page was the only place free of circular lines. A large red heart sat there instead, and above it, Brooke had written, "I love mommy" in black crayon. It looked like a little valentine.

Had she been missing her mother that day? Had Brooke helped her make the picture to keep her mind off it and he hadn't even noticed? Sonny shook his head as the reality of all he didn't know about his child sank in. And where his old, bitter anger at Alexis would normally have flared, cold, hard truth instead filled him with sadness.

No, he didn't know her, because Alexis had kept her away... and maybe, just maybe, Alexis had been right.

*****

Reece had argued with him, saying he shouldn't leave the house, and she had only relented when he finally showed her his cell phone and swore he'd be reachable at any moment she wanted him. He also knew she'd send someone to follow him, but he didn't care. He left all of his guards behind, climbed into his car, and drove out into the waning light as the second full day of Kristina's kidnapping began to end.

It hadn't occurred to him until he pulled up in front of the building that his brother might be there, but a 50 to the doorman told him that no, Mr. Lansing was not there and was still living elsewhere. Sonny nodded and made his way inside and to the elevators, but as the car doors opened on her floor, he hesitated. Maybe this was the last place he should be. Maybe seeing him would just upset her more.

He stepped out and the elevator closed behind him. Panic replaced Sonny's hesitancy a moment later when he saw that the door to Alexis' apartment was standing wide open. His hand flashed to the gun he no longer went without as one thought sped through his mind.

"Not her, too. Please, don't have her, too."

Her purse was on the floor just inside the entry. A few feet ahead, he saw her keys, and a few feet in front of that, Sonny saw Alexis' leather coat splayed on the floor. Then through the quiet he heard a sound that he suddenly realized he'd become all too familiar with in the last few years.

The sound of Alexis crying.

He pushed the door shut gently, locking it, and then he walked toward the sound. He had never been further than the living room in this place Alexis now called home, but he moved ahead, walking past what he saw were her room and the bathroom before he reached the open door to the dark place that held her sadness.

This room was lived in. This room, though neat and tidy, was a room where Kristina had made herself at home. He could see that from her little handprints on the wall and the pajamas that hung within her reach from the closet door, from the three pairs of varied colored Mary Jane's that were set just so in the corner. This was Kristina's room.

Alexis lay curled on the bed, her back to him as her body shook with her sobbing. He walked closer, all the while expecting her to turn and lay her fury at his feet, but she didn't move. When Sonny reached the edge of the bed, he sat his gun down on the dresser, and then he slid his coat off and placed it atop the gun. For a long moment, he stood there, nearly willing her to turn over and order him away, call him a name, to do something, anything other than just lay there and cry. But Alexis either didn't know he was there or didn't care enough to interrupt her grieving to deal with him.

For the second time that day, Sonny acknowledged that he was helpless. He would find his daughter, but at the moment, he was at the mercy of those who had her. And he would stop the pain of the woman laying in front of him, but for now, he was at the mercy of the distance that had grown between them. He simply didn't know what to do or what to say to make it better. She wouldn't believe his promises, not anymore. She had heard him initially draw lines of what he would and would not do with the Feds, and now she'd have no reason to believe him when he said that he would do anything, give up anything that anyone asked of him if it meant getting Kristina back.

Powerless, Sonny sank down to the ground, his legs curling beneath him as he leaned his head against the bed. His hand started up once, then again and then a third time before he let it finish its journey, where it landed against her lower back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his throat hurting as the words croaked out. "I'm sorry."

Her body shook harder as her tears strengthened. She cried and she cried, and then a scream tore out of her, drawing Sonny up onto his knees and even closer to her.

"Why?! Why did they take our baby? Why?"

Sonny leaned to try to whisper to her, and when he found he could not because of where she lay on the bed, he stood and moved onto it behind her. Some part of him still half-expected her to kick him or push him away, but he could see now that it wasn't so much that Alexis wanted him there as she simply had no strength to use to make him leave.

"I don't know. I swear to God, I don't know."

His lips hovered just above her ear and Sonny cautiously let his hand drop down to her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Alexis."

"Please don't let them hurt her," she whispered. "Please, Sonny... you promised. You have to... You're her father, you have to get her back."

Sonny dropped his cheek atop hers, his arms wrapping around her. No matter what she had been or might be on another day, tonight, Alexis Davis was the mother of his child... and she was terrified. And tonight he was the father of that little girl, and he owed her mother more than empty words. Saltiness flooded his mouth as his lips parted and his own tears ran over them.

"I swear to you on my life, whatever they want, I will give them. If they want me standing in an open field so they can take me out, I'll do it. I swear to God, Alexis, I will find a way to bring her home."

He held her for hours, her tears stopping and starting intermittently as she gripped what Sonny came to see was Kristina's favorite toy lamb as tightly in her arms as she was held in his. Her cries often triggered his own, but he let the rush of liquid run down his face unimpeded, his arms never leaving her. He hoped that someday, if Kristina ever had to know about this nightmare, she would know somehow that her daddy had held her mother and tried to somehow make it better, just like daddies were supposed to.

Just like he'd promised Kristina he would do for her, always.

He had thought to leave while Alexis was sleeping after exhaustion finally claimed her, but he didn't. Sonny wanted her to know he'd really been here, and somehow the fear that she'd think it was all a dream held him in place. There was so much bad to remember... he just wanted this one bit of good in the middle of all the bad for them to hold on to.

When she woke, she sat up with her back still to him. After awhile, she turned slightly, facing forward, her eyes still not turned away from him. The lamb lay in her lap, slightly lopsided from the intense hold she'd kept on it even in sleep.

Sonny rose from the bed and moved to his coat. The inside pocket held what he was looking for, and he drew it out, unfolded it, and then turned back to Alexis. He sat the page open on her lap then stepped back.

"I found that in her... at my house. I think that was meant for you."

He watched as Alexis' eyes dropped down and began to take in the picture Kristina had made for her. Her right hand eased over it, tracing the little letters at the top that told the story of Kristina's heart as plainly as anything ever could.

"I love you, too, baby," she whispered.

"I'll bring her home. I promise you."

Alexis nodded, her eyes still fixed on the paper.

"And when I do, Alexis, no one will ever take her from you again... not even me."

He felt her eyes finally lift to him as he turned, his gun back in his hand, his jacket cast over his arm, his purpose absolute and resolved.

He was going to bring his daughter home, where she belonged. And then whatever it took to make her "safe," that's what he was going to do.

Whatever it took.

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