Blurred Lines

Chapter 7 - Underwater

**TRIGGER WARNING** Violence and late term miscarriage.

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You and I are here

Underwater

Seconds are so dear

Underwater

I'm searching for a light

To draw me closer

I hold my breath in tight

Bring me closer

I feel your touch

Will you pull me up again?

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August 14, 1992

Marlena and Roman Brady Residence

John jumped from his Jeep, feeling the cool early morning air brush across his skin. He could smell Alice Horton's prized roses from across the lawn separating them, and memories rushed at him. He softly closed the to his vehicle to minimize the amount of sound he was making, and walked towards Marlena's house. It was dark, which wasn't suspicious on its own, but as he approached the front door a sinking feeling settled low in his gut. The exterior light was off, and the door was ajar - an immediate cause for alarm. Marlena would never leave her door unsecured. He remembered when they were married, that she would sometimes run downstairs before bed to ensure that she had locked it. Glancing around there was nothing else amiss outside. Coming closer to the door, he pushed it open carefully. A thud sounded upstairs, and he called out, "Marlena? Doc?"

Another loud thud, followed by the sound of breaking glass, and he was running, taking the stairs two at a time, his heart racing and his pulse pounding. Halfway up the stairs, a crashing sound, and then Marlena's scream. "Doc?" he cried out.

Just as he reached the landing, a gunshot rang out, chilling him to the depths of his soul. Was it Marlena who fired, or someone else? "Doc!"

The scene that met his eyes when he entered the bedroom broke his heart. Marlena cowered on the floor near her bed, the end table tipped over. In her trembling hands she held a gun, as her eyes stared blankly at the man lying dead on the floor in front of her. The light in the room was minimal, and John reached over, turning on the lights.

As if in slow motion, Marlena turned her face towards him, and John choked, "Oh, baby!" John's heart was wrenched. She was battered, her face almost unrecognizable. Tiny cuts across her cheek were bleeding, and her tears mixed with the blood as they trailed over her face. When she saw John, something snapped in her. She gave up, and all the fight she'd had in her melted away. Her hands fell, the gun landing on the dark carpet in front of her knees, as she collapsed and fell against the bed with a sob. John ran to her, and gathered her into his arms, "Doc! Oh, G-d! Doc! Baby!"

Brushing his hands over her, he examined her, noting the bruising on the inside of her arms, her face, and around her neck. Her nightgown was torn, and he softly brushed his large palm over her swollen belly praying that the baby would be okay. He had a brief moment of panic trying to clear his mind enough to figure out what to do, a million thoughts at once - call the police, take care of Marlena, call the hospital.

Marlena's head rolled back, staring up at him with sadness. It was too late. She felt a deep ache, and the rising pain inside her womb. It twisted and pulled. Nausea rolled over her, and she moaned as another gut wrenching ache tore at her. It was too late. John's eyes held hers, a safe place in a world of agony, but it was too late. She already knew... it was too late. Her arm shook with weakness as she tried to touch his face, fighting the feeling of blissful blackness pulling her down into the welcome unconsciousness, and she gripped John's hair tightly, sobbing softly, "The baby... it's too late."