What is Mine
Stefan sat on the side of his son's bed and watched him sleep. It had been thirty-seven days since the little boy had been reclaimed from Doctor Whelan and his wife. It had taken all that time just to gain the beginnings of his trust and teach him to answer to the name his late mother Ariana had given him at birth – Darius Fyodor. The name ‘Robby' was never spoken in the Cassadine household. Nor were references to the past year made.
The little boy's moments of wariness and withdrawal, once constant, were lessening. Darius willingly referred to Stefan as ‘Papa', but it was easy to see that the title did not hold any familial association for the little boy. But the obvious joy that filled the toddler whenever he saw his older brother was Stefan's comfort.
Helena's indoctrination had not been able to destroy the inherent goodness in Stefan's firstborn. From the moment Stefan introduced Nikolas to his baby brother, he embraced Darius with a big brother's protective care. The two boys were never more than a few feet from one another.
Household servants loyal to Stefan felt a sense of hope for the family that had not existed while Stavros and Helena were alive. Privately they thanked the fates for both Luke Spencer and the mysterious fire that took the life of the Cassadine matriarch.
The servants were disappointed, but understanding when Prince Stefan chose not to celebrate his ascension to the Cassadine throne or to host a bacchanalia in honor of young Master Darius' third birthday. So close upon the heels of the deaths of his brother, wife and mother, it would be too somber an occasion.
And so, today, they had celebrated quietly; just a father and his two sons.
A quiet, rhythmic beep broke the silence once every second. The noise was comforting to him and he unconsciously rocked in time to the mechanical sound.
“Some day you will awaken,” the handsome man whispered into the muted light of his cavernous surroundings. “And I will be here for you…”
~ The End ~