"I’ve BEEN bloody patient, Amy!" Jax drilled his fingers nervously on the armrest of the exam chair. "I’ve been waiting in here for Dr. Cohen now for more than an hour!"

"I understand that, Mr. Jacks......"

Jax lowered his face to his hand, rubbing his fingers across his forehead briskly. "I’m sorry, Amy. It’s just that it’s been over a week since the surgery, and the not knowing is just about killing me."

"So does that give you the right to kill my best nurse in return?" A deep voice echoed from the doorway of the small exam room. Jax raised his head immediately and turned it towards the sound. "I understand that I’ve got a rude, impatient, post-op jerk in this exam room -- is that right, Amy?"

Jax heard the soft swish as Amy left the room discreetly without answering. "What I wouldn’t give to be able to have seen her face just now," Jax muttered.

"Well," Dr. Cohen replied briskly, "if our efforts of the past week have been a success, you should be able to see *everyone’s* faces in just a few minutes, Jax." Jax felt the warmth of the exam lights on his face and instinctively turned upward towards them. "So -- how have you been since the surgery?"

Jax felt the doctor beginning to peel away the adhesive tape that held the thick gauze pads over his eyes. "Pretty good, I guess." He folded his hands in his lap, circling his thumbs nervously. "I’ve been having some strange dreams, though. Could the anesthesia have done that?"

Jax winced as the doctor pulled on some tape that was stuck in his hairline. "Sorry," Dr. Cohen whispered, then returned to the question at hand. "What kind of dreams? Define strange."

"I don’t exactly know how to describe them," Jax returned, then cracking a half-smile. "Not dirty, if that’s what you’re asking." Dr. Cohen’s silence caused Jax to lose the smile. "Just images that sort of float in and out, really. Flashes of light -- almost like the flash of a gun when it’s fired."

"I really doubt that the anesthesia would be causing dreams like that." Jax felt a layer of gauze pads being lifted from his face and shifted anxiously in his seat. "Now, as I take these bandages off, I want you to keep your eyes closed until I tell you, all right?"

"Yes, sir," Jax sighed. "And I’m sorry if I barked at Amy earlier. It’s just that it’s been so long -- since I.......since......the accident....."

"Since you were shot." Dr. Cohen’s voice was curt and to-the-point. "You should know by now that I believe in calling a spade a spade, Jax." He continued to remove tape and gauze. "I told you a year ago that you probably would suffer total loss of vision from the gunshot wound to your head."

"Not a good diagnosis for an operative, huh?" Jax’s face was grim.

"A secret agent, Jax. Remember? Call it what it is?" Jax felt Dr. Cohen swabbing his face with something cold and he flinched. "I’m just cleaning up some of the antiseptic around your eyes that we used during the transplant."

Jax gave a quick nod. "And you also told me that the only chance I would ever have of seeing again was a corneal transplant. And that my odds for a match weren’t good."

This time it was Dr. Cohen who smirked softly. "I remember you had some pretty choice words for me at that time, too." Jax felt his gentle touch as the doctor began to peel away the last of the tape. "We’re almost there, Jax. Just a few more minutes."

"You’d think that after a year of being without my sight, I would be more patient, wouldn’t you, doc?"

Dr. Cohen chuckled. "Not from what the occupational therapists tell me." Jax felt the doctor’s breath on his neck as he must have leaned closer. "You were the talk of the department, from what I hear. Handsome as the devil, but as stubborn and surly as a bear with a burr up his butt."

"Dr. Cohen! I never knew you were such a poetic fellow!" Jax laughed but then stopped when he heard the exam room door opening.

"Doctor, there’s…..oh, I’m sorry!" The female voice abruptly shut down as Jax felt the doctor’s fingers tense.

"I’m busy with a patient!" the doctor barked. Jax found it odd since Dr. Cohen was usually such a laid-back physician. "Tell them I’ll return the call later, alright?"

Jax heard the door shut again and the doctor’s fingers went back to work. "That didn’t sound like Amy," Jax remarked in an off-hand manner.

"It wasn’t." Dr. Cohen’s voice was clipped. "It was just another nurse – some of them can’t remember that no phone call is as important to me as my patients."

Jax was about to ask more about the new nurse but then caught his breath as he felt the last of the gauze leave his face. "Can I open my eyes now?"

He felt Dr. Cohen’s hand cover his. "Now Jax, remember what I told you before the surgery. Despite our best efforts to secure a perfect match, sometimes the transplant just doesn’t take. And you’re always subject to rejection of the corneas."

"I know, I know. I have to use that bloody anti-rejection medicine for the rest of my life."

"That’s right. But you have to remember too that the medication you’ll be using has just been approved by the FDA and looks more promising than most of the stuff we’ve been using before. Less side effects, just more expensive."

"Yada, yada, yada.......we’ve been through all that before, doctor. Now can I open my eyes and find out if I’m a functioning operative again?" Jax had let go of Dr. Cohen’s hand and was gripping the armrests tightly.

Jax felt the doctor’s hand on his eyelids. "Just one last warning, Jax. Remember that you won’t have 20/20 vision the minute you open your eyes. It might be shadowy and blurry for the first few hours -- even days. And there’s bound to be a lot of bruising around your eyes, so if you *do* manage to see yourself in a mirror, you’ll look like a giant panda."

Jax nodded. "I understand."

The doctor patted his hand. "Good. Now, when you open your eyes, you’re going to probably experience some discomfort from the light. Those nerves and transmitters to the brain haven’t had to function for a year, and they’re probably going to be a little on the lazy side for a while." Jax heard some bottles and instruments rattling on the tray. "I’ll give you some antibiotic drops that will help with the light sensitivity." Jax felt the back of his chair drop away and the doctor slowly pulled him back by the shoulder. "Now, lay back and I’ll put the drops in for you the first time."

Jax assumed the position that had become so familiar during the past year. He couldn’t help but remember the panic and despair when he had awakened after the shooting. Although Jax’s family was elated that he hadn’t been mortally wounded in the ambush that killed his partner, Jax was inconsolable. Dr. Cohen had recommended therapy with a psychiatrist as well as the occupational training, but Jax stubbornly refused. He was sure he could get through the dark days (literally) alone.

Jax’s memories were cut short when he felt Dr. Cohen pinching his eye and installing the drops. Out of reflex, he squeezed them shut as soon as the liquid hit his eyes. He felt Dr. Cohen hand him some gauze to dab away the excess moisture. "Not too hard now, Jax. Remember that the stitching inside the eyes will require some time to heal completely."

Jax took a shaky breath. Now that the time was finally here, he was afraid to see if the transplant surgery had been a success. "Go ahead, Jax. Open your eyes now," Dr. Cohen prompted gently.

The first thing Jax noticed was how bright the light was. Everything seemed to be white. "What do you see, Jax?"

"I’m not sure yet. Nothing specific. Just a lot of light." Jax tried to squint a little to focus, but it didn’t seem to be helping.

"Don’t try to rush it." Jax closed his eyes again and shifted his weight nervously in the chair." Like I said -- the nerves will take a while to start carrying those messages to the brain again."

Jax inhaled and let his breath out slowly. "OK. Here we go." He opened his eyes very slowly, raising his eyelids so that they finally touched the top of his eye sockets. As Dr. Cohen stared intently into Jax’s blue/green eyes, he couldn’t help but remember all the times he had mentally thought what a shame it was that they could no longer be a window to the world for this promising young man.

"What do you see, Jax?"

Jax sat motionless for a few minutes, and then -- to Dr. Cohen’s surprise -- a look of pure terror crossed Jax’s face. "I see.......I see....." Jax’s chest began to heave as he breathed deeply. "It’s ..... everything’s red.....it’s red......there’s ........" His voice rose several decibels. "There’s BLOOD!" He reached for Dr. Cohen in a panic. "It’s MY blood -- I’ve been.......Oh, my God! I’ve been......" Jax looked down towards his chest. "I’ve been SHOT!"

*~*~*~*~*

"I’m very sorry, Mrs. Corinthos, but I really need to go over the details with you one more time."

Carly Corinthos pressed her fingertips to her forehead, trying to massage away the beginnings of a headache while wiping away some perspiration that had gathered there. The damp condition of her skin had nothing at all to do with the temperature in the room. As she gazed at Port Charles Police Detective Marcus Taggert, disbelief choked her air supply even more than the unusual warmth of the early fall day. "You don’t believe me, do you Detective? You think I killed my husband."

Marcus Taggert rose from his chair. "Nobody’s charging you with anything, Mrs. Corinthos."

"But it’s been over a week since my husband’s murder and nobody else seems to be on your "short list" of suspects, do they?" she retorted, trying not to sound too disrespectful.

Taggert sighed and pulled a small spiral notebook out of his coat pocket. "Can we just go over the facts one more time, Mrs. Corinthos?"

Carly inhaled deeply. "I think I want a lawyer present, Detective."

"You waived your right to legal representation the night Sonny was murdered, Mrs. Corinthos." Taggert flipped open his notebook and pulled out a pen. "Now, tell me again what time you came home that night."

Carly rose and went to the small bar to pour herself a glass of ice water with hands that still shook from fatigue and grief. "I got home around 11 o’clock."

"And when you came inside?…."

"I saw the lights were still on in Sonny’s study. Although, that wasn’t unusual. He often worked late at night." Carly took a sip of water as she remained standing. "I went to the study and when I knocked on the door, it swung open." Carly’s breathing began to hitch and tears formed in her eyes. "I was about to call Sonny’s name when I saw him. He was on the floor, face down, in the middle of the study."

"And he had already been shot?" Detective Taggert was making notes.

Carly nodded quickly. "He was lying in a large pool of blood on the floor. All that blood, on the green carpet……" She pushed her red-gold hair back from her face with trembling fingers and walked over to the window, staring outside with her back to the policeman. "I felt his wrist for a pulse but he didn’t move. His arm already felt cold to me." She took a halting breath. "From what I understand, Sonny was shot point blank in the chest, causing massive bleeding. I guess it was a blessing that I didn’t see him …. See the big hole in his…."

Carly choked back a sob and Detective Taggert stopped writing for a minute. "And then what did you do, Mrs. Corinthos?"

"I think I screamed, but then when I tried to stand up to call 911, someone hit me from behind and knocked me out."

"And…..how long was it before you woke up?"

"I didn’t notice but as soon as I did, I called the paramedics." Carly nervously massaged a sore spot where her right shoulder met her neck as she turned back to Taggert. "They tell me the call came in around midnight, so I guess it was about an hour."

Taggert sighed. "And they also confirmed that you had a lump on the back of your head."

"That’s correct." She took another sip of water and then squared her shoulders bravely. "I didn’t murder my husband, Detective. I loved Sonny."

"You were only married a year."

"Time has nothing to do with love, Detective. We were happy. There were no problems with the marriage."

"No financial pressures? No arguments?"

"Sonny is….." Carly deliberately stopped herself. She rolled her eyes skyward to compose herself before quickly wiping away a tear that escaped nonetheless. "Sonny was a good businessman, Detective. We lived very comfortably on his salary. Besides, I earn a respectable income as a freelance photographer." She took a deep breath as she moved back towards her chair. "We had an occasional spat, but that’s not uncommon for newlyweds."

"Everything else OK? No in-law problems?"

"None."

Taggert cleared his throat awkwardly. "And…..in the bedroom?" He saw Carly’s eyes flare with indignance. Her quick temper was typical of someone with the red/blonde hair she sported. "I’m sorry to ask, Mrs. Corinthos, but I have to. Were there any sexual problems in the marriage?"

"*None* at all, Detective." Carly’s tone was frosty. "We had a very satisfying physical relationship." She rubbed her hand up and down her glass of water. "In fact, we had been trying to conceive a child for about six months."

Taggert frowned and he flipped some pages back in his notebook. "A baby? You two were trying to make a baby?"

"Crudely put, but accurate, Detective." She saw Taggert smirk and flip the pages back in his notebook. "I don’t see why you find that so odd. I specialize in photographing babies, Detective. I love children, and so did Sonny. We couldn’t *wait* until we had one of our own to love."

Taggert shook his head. "Well, pardon my skepticism, Mrs. Corinthos, but I just think it’s kinda odd for a couple to be trying to hard to have a kid when the guy had a vasectomy."

Carly’s face turned pale and she sank into the chair. "What did you say?" Her words came out in a whisper.

"Sonny Corinthos had a vasectomy. You two could try all you want, but Sonny…….well, let’s just say he didn’t have any live ammunition in his gun."

Carly’s fingers trembled. "That’s impossible. If Sonny had had a vasectomy, he would have told me." The tears were flowing faster now.

Taggert sighed and rose from his chair. "Well, I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, Mrs. Corinthos, but the autopsy report was quite clear. Your husband didn’t want any children. The pathologist estimated that the subject’s vasectomy had been performed at least 6 months prior to death." He looked around and shifted uncomfortably as a sob escaped Carly’s lips. "I think I’ve probably upset you enough for one day, Mrs. Corinthos. I’ll show myself out." As he walked towards the door, he turned back to face her one last time. "And Mrs. Corinthos?"

She didn’t face him. "Yes?"

"Don’t leave Port Charles anytime soon."

*~*~*~*

"Mr. Jacks?" Jax swam up through hazy white fog towards the sound of the doctor’s voice. "Jax! It’s me, Dr. Cohen!"

Jax opened his eyes slowly. "Doc – you never told me you had a beard!"

Dr. Cohen began breathing rapidly and smiling. "Well – obviously I’ve got the answers to two questions! You can see my face?!"

Jax nodded slightly. "Yeah." He swallowed hard. "What happened to me?"

"I’m not sure, Jax. When I asked you what you could see, you started talking about red and blood and being shot, and then you must have passed out." Dr. Cohen took Jax’s wrist and stared down at his own watch. "Your pulse is elevated but not abnormal." He put Jax’s hand back on his chest. "You had me pretty worried there, Jax. I didn’t even get a pulse for a few minutes."

Jax looked around him. "And that’s why I’m on the floor?"

Dr. Cohen nodded. "You were trying to stand and then sort of crumbled into a heap on the floor." Suddenly, a young, petite blonde nurse appeared at Dr. Cohen’s side. "I was afraid I’d have to perform CPR until Amy here volunteered to do mouth-to-mouth."

Jax grinned widely. "So -- *you’re* Amy." His eyes roamed up and down her figure. "I must say it’s a pleasure to finally be able to see you, Nurse Amy."

Amy blushed profusely as Dr. Cohen helped Jax to his feet again. "Do you still want me to try to call the paramedics, Dr. Cohen?"

"No, Amy. That’ll be all." She gave Jax one last appreciative gaze before she left the exam room. "It certainly would have been interesting to see the 911 crew trying to get through the afternoon traffic in downtown Manhattan."

Jax settled himself back into the exam chair. "I think I must have flashed back to being shot, Doctor." Then he frowned. "Although……"

Dr. Cohen froze at the tray of bottles and tubes. "Although?"

Jax lifted suspicious eyes to meet Dr. Cohen’s. "Who donated these corneas, Dr. Cohen?"

"You know I can’t tell you that, Jax." He picked up two bottles of eye drops. "Now – the drops in the green bottle are to prevent post-surgical infection." Jax nodded. "Two drops in each eye, twice a day for two weeks." Another nod. "The ones in the purple bottle are the anti-rejection medication. Purple bottle -- two drops in each eye once a day until further notice. And be sure to let me know if you experience any severe headaches or burning in your eyes. It could be an early sign of rejection."

"You’re avoiding my question, Bruce." Jax pushed the doctor’s hand away with the medicines. "I’m not asking for a specific name. I just want to know more background about the person who donated them."

Dr. Cohen sighed. "You know the sad truth about transplants, Jax. Somebody had to die in order for you to be able to see."

"How did he die, Doctor?"

"We’re not given a complete file on the donor, Jax. Just the facts that we deem medically necessary to evaluate the potential value of the transplant." Dr. Cohen’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Jax. "Why is this suddenly so important?"

Jax folded his hands in his lap and took a deep breath. "I told you that when I blacked out, I saw myself being shot." Dr. Cohen nodded as Jax’s eyes took on a faraway look. "I could see it all, Doc. The gun was shining in the moonlight. I could see the sparks when it fired. I could see the blood coming from my wound." He smirked grimly. "H*ll, I could even feel the pain when the bullet hit me."

Dr. Cohen lowered his head. "Jax, you know that flashbacks are common for injuries like yours. Particularly when the individual involved in is law enforcement, as you are."

Jax shook his head firmly. "That’s not what I mean, Doc." He put his hand over his chest. "I could see the blood *here*. I could feel it running down my arm and around my legs. I felt the burning in my lungs from the bullet."

Dr. Cohen frowned. "But Jax – you were shot in the head. That’s what caused your loss of sight. You didn’t suffer a wound to the chest."

"That’s why I have to know, Doc." He leaned forward towards the pale doctor. "How did the guy who donated my corneas die?"

Dr. Cohen looked down at his hands and exhaled loudly. "They don’t give us all the details, Jax, but I think he was murdered."

"How? Stabbed? Drowned? Hit by a car?" Jax’s words were tense and cold.

"He was shot, Jax. A massive gunshot wound to the chest."

To be continued…..

Author’s note: Since I’m sure you’re already wondering, the author of the original novel explains that in a transplant, you only receive the clear cornea, not the iris, so the color of the recipient’s eyes doesn’t change. When Jax eventually tells Carly about receiving Sonny’s corneas, Carly won’t believe it because Sonny had brown eyes. Jax will explain it to her then.