All the writers keep writing what they write
Somewhere another pretty vein just dies
I’ve got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see
That you’re the antidote to everything, except for me
A constellation of tears on your lashes
Burn everything you love
Then burn the ashes
In the end everything collides
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see
My songs know what you did in the dark
– My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark, Fall Out Boy

---

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

 Metro Court: Restaurant

 Nina Reeves-Cassadine tossed the phone down with a huff, then glared at her breakfast partner. “That son of a bitch. When he comes home, I’m going to twist his balls off—you’re not even listening to me.”

“Huh?” Franco Baldwin blinked, then focused on the aggrieved redhead. “Sorry. No. You were complaining about Valentin again. I didn’t care, so I stopped listening.”

Her scowl deepened, but then she sighed, her expression fading from fury into resignation. “Everything was so lovely on New Year’s,” she murmured. “He’d been distracted for months, but that night, it was just like Morocco again.”

Franco was trying to care, he really was. Nina was one of the few friends who hadn’t turned her nose up at him after his disastrous breakup with Elizabeth, but all she cared about these days was her stupid step kid and marriage.

“Look, I get that my problems aren’t all that interesting—”

Franco tuned back in because he realized she was glaring at him. “What?”

“You’re still not listening. You know, a brick wall would be a better friend than you right now—”

Franco rubbed his neck, sat back. “I didn’t sleep well,” he said finally because that was partially the truth. He hadn’t slept well in months. The strange dreams about his childhood and the brother who wasn’t his brother, and now the dreams had shifted to hospital beds and restraints— but as his father had so recently reminded him, he didn’t have so many bridges left in this stupid town that he could afford to burn another. Time to be a good friend. Or something.

“Look, your husband is being an asshole. When he gets home, scream at him all you want. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s ruined your day. Threaten to have an affair. I don’t know. Pick whatever terrible advice you want me to say, then take it. Or ignore it. Just stop whining already and do something.”

“Oh, I’ll do something,” Nina bit out. She shoved her chair back and stood, then stalked out of the restaurant. Franco rolled his eyes. So much for staying in her good graces — he’d let her sulk and find her later.

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

Ned poured himself another cup of coffee, then sat at the table. “Well, Mother, how was your first night back? Did you sleep well?”

“Who redecorated my bedroom?” Tracy demanded. She slid a suspicious glance at Ned’s wife of only a few months, Olivia. “Was it you?”

“No.” Olivia said nothing else, which meant she was taking Ned’s advice. Short, simple answers. Don’t elaborate. Smile and nod only, if possible. Never give his mother anything to work with. Olivia picked up a piece of buttered toast and bit into it.

Tracy made a face, then looked back at Ned. “So. We have another prodigal relative with their claws into ELQ? Did you already deal with diluting the shares?”

Ned stirred cream into his coffee. “Yes.”

Tracy narrowed her eyes. “I seem to remember Jason’s share was being controlled by that street urchin. Is that still true? And do not give me another one-word answer, Ned. I’m not in the mood.”

He sighed. “All I know is that Jason’s share, along with Scout and Danny’s, were in Sam’s control the last time I checked. Drew received his shares around—” He frowned, looked at Olivia. “Thanksgiving?”

“Something like that. We were with my family this year,” Olivia reminded him. “Why does it matter? Your shares aren’t affected.”

Ned winced, and Tracy turned her shark-like focus on his wife. “And you don’t have any to start with, so why don’t you stay out of this conversation?”

“Hey, I was just minding my business with my bacon and eggs.” Olivia shrugged. “You sat down and started talking in front of me. Suck it up.”

Ned saw his mother calculate the energy it would take to respond, then decided it wasn’t worth cost. She turned back to Ned. “And there’s a son, isn’t there?”

“Yes. Oscar. Drew was married twice before he was kidnapped.” Ned folded his arms. “A wife that died of cancer when Oscar was four, and then Kim Nero. She works at the hospital. And yes, Oscar was also issued shares as a great-grandchild.”

Tracy sniffed. “I am tired of all these idiots coming out of the woodwork and getting their hands on my father’s company. At least the grandchildren are finally past child-bearing stage and this won’t happen again.”

Olivia arched a brow. “Oh, Ned didn’t tell you? He’s adopting my son, Leo. Which would—” She looked at Ned, smiled, “legally make him a great-grandchild.”

Tracy hissed. “No—”

“Oh, and I do believe Jason is dating Elizabeth Webber again. You know, those kids — I always wanted to work it out. Wouldn’t it be nice if they sealed their reunion with a bouncing baby girl?”

“I think it would be amazing,” Olivia said, and grinned at him. “I’ll light a candle at Mass—”

“Oh, hell.” Tracy’s coffee cup clattered in the saucer. “Don’t tell me you’re a Catholic. What did I ever do to deserve this?” she demanded of Ned. “Haven’t I been through enough?”

“Mother, please try to remember that you are not the victim here. You inherited ten percent of the company from Alan without once having to be nice to him. Grandfather spent a great deal of money and effort to get the other ninety percent back under his control. He chose to share it with his grandchildren and their children. To keep the Quartermaines together.”

“And besides, it’s a little cold to be so rude about Drew and his kid getting what’s owed to them.” Olivia shrugged. “Not like Drew asked to be separated from his brother and tossed away like garbage. He doesn’t even remember his own son, Tracy. You don’t think maybe you could have some sympathy for the guy and what he’s been through?”

“Oh, amnesia—” Tracy sneered. “Like we haven’t heard it before. It’s a tired story—”

“It’s quite possible, Mother, that Drew will never remember the years before he woke up in Port Charles,” Ned told her. “Just like Jason will never remember his childhood. Olivia’s right. They’ve been through enough. Let them have their piece of the pie and share it with their kids.”

“I can still hope that guttersnipe gets kicked out into the cold,” Tracy said. “Sam,” she clarified when Ned rolled his eyes. “Jason and Drew are both alive and capable. They should be in control.”

“Okay, well the next time Jason or Drew ask my advice about their shares, I’ll be sure to mention your opinion.” Ned rested his folded arms on the table, leaned forward. “Now, Mother, why don’t we discuss your visit and how I can make you go back to Amsterdam without leaving chaos in your wake.”

“Ah, my son—” Tracy picked up her coffee. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Chills,” Ned declared to Olivia. “Right down my spine. God help us all.”

Penthouse: Hallway

Sonny rapped on the door, then waited. He heard some shuffling inside, so when it didn’t automatically open, he knew Sam had looked through the peephole and was ignoring him. He knocked again, then braced his hands on either side of the door frame.

“Sam. I know you’re in there. Answer the door. Or I’ll do it for you. I still have the keys.”

Sam yanked it open a split second later, scowling. “How do you know I didn’t change the locks?”

“Because you don’t own the damn building, I do. I know when any tenant changes the locks. And—” Sonny lifted a brow. “You don’t own this penthouse, either.”

Sam pressed her lips together. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want to fight with you. Or have this conversation in the hallway. So can I come in or not?”

Sam huffed, then stepped back, holding the door all the way open. “You can come in, but I reserve the right to toss you at any minute.”

Sonny walked into the living room, then swung around to face her as Sam closed the door. “You’ve been around all of this for years. This divorce with Jason, it’s not even the first time you’ve gone down this road. So I can’t believe you didn’t know what you were doing when you wanted half of everything Jason owns.”

Sam didn’t look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’d give you anything you wanted, you know that. He’d give you this penthouse. He’d give you money. Any property you want. But you’re asking for half of the coffee business. You know that’s not on the table. It was his before the marriage. At best, you’re entitled to half the profits since your original marriage.”

“I’m asking for what I’m owed. Jason didn’t sign a prenuptial agreement—”

“To my everlasting regret,” Sonny cut in, and she looked at him now, her eyes flashing.

“It’s not my fault that your business is dirty, Sonny—”

“What are you doing, Sam? You went for blood in those papers—you attacked Jason in every way you can — you going after his freedom now, too? Those five years he spent locked in a coma while the world moved on without him, that wasn’t enough? You want to force the books open so the government can come in and put him away?”

“That wouldn’t be my fault,” Sam said, her teeth clenched.

“Really? You want to think about that again?” Sonny’s hands curled into fists at his side, his resolve to find a civil tone sliding away. “I don’t understand you. I really don’t. Jason’s been through hell. You know now he was kidnapped and held hostage inside his own body. He wanted a life with you, with Danny. The only reason you were in this penthouse the night he went off the pier is because he brought you here to start that life.”

“That was a long time ago,” Sam said. She lifted her chin. “And I’m not obligated to do anything because of it. And if he has a problem with what I’m asking for, then let him deal with it. Why do you even care? Is Jason not getting rid of me fast enough for you?”

“You’re taking me down with him, you know that, don’t you? It’s not just him you’re going after—”

“Oh, I see we’ve come to the reason for this little visit.” Sam smirked. “I knew you weren’t here out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Yeah, I got a stake in it, Sam, so what? That doesn’t change what you’re doing to someone who doesn’t deserve it. I just want you to stop kicking the man when he’s down—”

“Oh, yeah, he looks real down to me, Sonny. He asked me for the divorce, you know. He got tired of waiting for me—”

“That’s it.” Sonny stabbed a finger at her. “There it is. I knew I’d get there.”

“What? What do you think you got?”

“You’re pissed because Jason asked you for the divorce. You filed it as soon as he asked for it, making sure you hit all the high points. Going after the coffee company, using Jake? And that was a real piece of work, wasn’t it? That’s where you decided to hit low.”

Sam narrowed her eyes. “I had those papers ready to go, damn you! It had nothing to do with that—”

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He looked positively gleeful which made her want to murder him. “That’s why you went nuclear on custody and the financials, I believe that was always the plan. But how you’re demanding custody? Abandoning Jake? You’re telling me you were always going to use him to prove Jason was an unfit father?”

“You can believe what you want—”

“You know what I think, Sam?”

“Can I stop you from telling me?”

“I think you found out Jason was spending a lot of time with his son. With Jake. And Jake’s mother. You know, Carly wanted him to talk to you. Oh, man, she tried over and over again to get him to call you. But Jason thought, well, you’d made your choice that night. And if you wanted to make a different one, you’d find him. Why should he have to beg the woman he’d married to believe in him?”

“He wasn’t thinking about me at all,” Sam said, her teeth clenched. “And I wouldn’t have him back even if he did beg. On his hands and knees, I wouldn’t have—”

“Oh, yeah, this answers a lot of questions. Everyone kept saying you’d changed, you’d matured, but I knew—” He wagged a finger. “I knew deep down who you were was always underneath. You’re just a chameleon, Sam. You fit yourself to the man you want, but you don’t know how to do that this time. Because you want them both, don’t you?”

“How dare you—”

“I don’t hear a no,” Sonny taunted, but as he spoke, the door behind them started to open, and then Kristina was there. His daughter looked back and forth between them.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked. “I heard shouting.”

Morgan’s Auto: Parking Lot

Carly took a deep breath. Whatever Jason wanted from her today, she’d agree even if it was having a spa day with Elizabeth. Not that it would ever be that, but if it was, Carly would do it. He’d given her a second chance—more like a fifty-second—and Carly wasn’t going to let Jason regret it. Not this time.

She would think before she spoke, listen to every word he said, and not take any mention of Elizabeth as a personal attack. Three simple rules to a kinder, gentler Carly. She could do this. She had to. It was her last chance.

She pulled open the door, stepped inside the lobby, and the smile immediately dropped from her face and her nose twitched. “What is that smell?”

Spinelli’s head bobbed up from behind the counter and he sighed. “I don’t know. Stone Cold thinks maybe something died in the corner over there and we disturbed its resting place when we cleaned. We came in this morning, and it was terrible—”

“Oh, never mind—” Carly waved her hands. “I don’t want the visual.” She scanned the room, taking in the cracks in the tile, the streaks in the glass windows set into the concrete wall separating the lobby from the garage bay, the splits in the sofa that had probably been in the same spot since before the moon landing— “This is, um, nice.”

Spinelli smirked. “No need, Valkyrie. Stone Cold knows the place is crap. Lemme go grab him. Wait here.”

“Do I have to?” Carly muttered, but thankfully, it wasn’t long. Jason stepped in from the back hallway, wiping his hands on a towel. “Hey. I got your message. You said you needed me.” She would save that message, too. Jason had needed her. What a wonderful phrase he’d probably never said before.

“Desperately, actually. Elizabeth took one look at this place—even if she had the time—” He shook his head. “But I was already going to call you. Uh, I want to open in three weeks.”

Carly pressed her lips together and swallowed her thoughts. “That’s, uh, great. Place looks, um, ready.”

Jason arched a brow, waited a beat. “Did that hurt?”

“Nope. I—” She squared her shoulders. “I support you in whatever endeavor you pursue. This is Carly 2.0. One who listens and supports and—” Her cheek twitched as the smell nearly overwhelmed her.

“The cleaning crew is starting in the back,” Jason said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “And you’re right, even if you didn’t say it. The place is bad. I picked it for the location. It’s close to the water and to Kelly’s, like the warehouse. And the garage bay is in decent condition. But I need you to make this place, especially the lobby, look…well, make it better.”

“You need to me make it better? Like decorating?” Carly narrowed her eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“Nothing. You have an unlimited budget. Just needs to be done by the end of the month. Or mostly. The cleaning crew said they’d be done here after tomorrow, and I’m having the bathroom in the back ripped out and replaced this weekend. But after that, it’s all yours.”

“And full control,” Carly said. “Right? I can do whatever I want?”

“Yep.”

She squealed and nearly hurled herself into his arms, but then stepped back with a wrinkle of her nose. “What were you doing back there? Are you grimy and disgusting?”

“I was in the office reading files,” Jason said dryly. “It’s safe.”

“Oh, great.” Carly threw her arms around him. “You won’t regret this! I promise! I will make this the best garage in the entire state. No, country, no—”

“I’ll settle for the best one on this street,” Jason said. “Have at it.”

“I have so much to do. I need to take pictures, and measurements.” Carly turned in a slow circle, with a completely different perception of the lobby. This was her playground now and she could do whatever she wanted. Jason had asked for her help, and it was something she could do really well! This was the best day ever. “I can’t wait to get started.”

Penthouse: Living Room

Kristina closed the door, still frowning. “Dad? Sam?”

“Kristina—” Sonny took a deep breath. “Sam and I were in the middle of something, so if you could give us—”

“No. No! I want her to hear what you’re saying to me!” Sam cut in, slicing her hand through the air. “I want your daughter to hear what you’re accusing me of!”

When Sonny hesitated, Sam turned to Kristina. “He thinks I want Jason and Drew. He thinks I’m nothing more than a gold-digging whore who doesn’t care who she hurts—”

“Oh, that’s not true. Dad, tell her it’s not true—”

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it in those words, but if the shoe fits,” Sonny said, with a shrug.

“You have no right to speak to me like that!” Sam turned away from her sister, angry tears sliding down her face. “I don’t want them both! I want the life I had before—”

“Sure,” Sonny shot back. “The life you thought you had with Jason, only you don’t get to have that do you? If you want that life, you have to stay with Drew, but you don’t want him, do you? You want Jason. Go ahead, deny it. Tell me I’m wrong!”

Sam’s throat burned. “No—no, that’s not—it’s not—”

“You made a living turning yourself into someone new every year or so, looking for the next mark—” Sonny smirked. “Let’s see, for Jax, you were a tough as nails salvage diver. For me, you were, uh—” His eyes raked down her body, then back up to her face. “The willing mistress—”

“Go to hell—” Sam was nearly incandescent with fury.

“And for Jason—the delicate damsel in distress that needed him to save her. Over and over and over again—”

“He didn’t save me, did he?” Sam demanded. “Franco got me, and then you all let him walk around here like he didn’t rape me!”

Kristina flinched at this reminder of her sister’s trauma, bit her lip, looked to her father, hoping he’d back down.

Sonny’s expression shifted, some of the anger melted into shame. “Yeah, okay. That’s true. And you get to be mad about that—”

“No, no, you don’t get to give me permission,” Sam spat. “You don’t get to pretend that what I go through every time I see that freak out in public doesn’t matter! So maybe I am angry that Jason came home and ignored me. How was I supposed to know what he wanted! How was I supposed to know that he even cared—he went straight to you—”

“But he did come here,” Sonny said, and she stumbled to stop. “Before he came to me. He called you from Russia, but Drew picked up the phone, so Jason hung up. When he got to Port Charles, he came here. To the penthouse.”

“No—” Sam swallowed. “No, he didn’t.”

“He did. He came here, picked the locks, because all he thought about was coming home, Sam. But then he walked through this door and saw those pictures—” Sonny gestured behind her, and Sam turned to see the row of photos on the mantel. “His desk is gone. The pool table. This wasn’t home. And then you came in with the kids, and he saw the man you’d married. And you looked happy. He didn’t want to mess that up, so he left.”

Tears slid down her cheeks, and she closed them. “He came here. He never said—”

“Why would he? Why would he want to make this harder for you? You went home with the other guy. You stuck with the other guy, so he thought you’d made your choice. That’s why he’s not in your face.” Sonny stepped back. “You see, Sam, that’s the difference between me and him. That’s why I’m the one here, and he’s not.  It’s why you decided to go nuclear. Because you needed him to beg for you, to chase you, and that’s not who Jason is or ever will be. So I’m gonna ask you again — what can Jason give you to make you back off?”

Sam jerked open the door. “This conversation is over. Get out.”

“I’m not—”

“Dad.” Kristina stepped in now. “I think you should go now.” She opened the door. “Please.”

“Fine. I’ve said what I needed to say,” Sonny snapped, then stalked out. Kristina closed the door behind him, and Sam pressed her hands to her face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kristina asked.

Sam just closed her eyes, hugged her torso. Jason had come here. He’d come to her. And he’d seen Drew. He’d come to her. Oh, God. She hadn’t known that. She hadn’t known.

“Sam—”

“No.” Sam took a deep breath, then looked at her sister, forced a watery smile. “Scout’s upstairs, napping. Can you check on her?”

“Sure, but—” Kristina hesitated. “About what my dad said. About Jason. About him coming here first— ”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam said, almost inaudibly. “It doesn’t matter at all.” She couldn’t let it matter. “Please go check on Scout. I need a minute. Okay? Please.”

“Okay,” Kristina said warily, then went for the stairs.

Sam pressed her hands to her cheeks. Oh, God. Jason had come to her, had seen Drew, and left. What if she’d seen him? What if she’d—

Her conversion with Molly the day before drifted back, and Sam closed her eyes. She’d been convinced that someone else had put Jason up to asking for the divorce, and now? Knowing Jason had come home—had come to her—she was sure of it. He’d wanted her. Why had he stopped?

Sam exhaled slowly, took a deep breath. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t. She needed to keep moving forward, to stop living in the past.

She reached for her phone.

“Mom? Yeah. I need you to call Diane and make it clear that I don’t want to talk to anyone about my divorce but you and her. Everyone else needs to stay away. Make sure Sonny knows that.”

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