And I am feeling so small
It was over my head
I know nothing at all
And I will stumble and fall
I’m still learning to love
Just starting to crawl
Say something, I’m giving up on you
I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you
Anywhere, I would’ve followed you
– Say Something, Passenger

---

Saturday, January 6, 2018

Webber House: Kitchen

“Hey, what are your plans today?” Elizabeth asked, glancing over at Cameron as he cleared the table of cereal bowls. He stacked them and brought them over to the sink. “Staying in, going out—”

“Studying,” Cameron said. He dumped them in the sink, turned on the faucet. “I have a French test, and AP Bio— and there’s an essay for English. I blame Oscar for that one. He got the teacher going on comparing poems written in response to each other and how they reflect the historical context of the time.”

Elizabeth made a face. “That sounds…fun.”

“Glad one of us thinks so.” He shrugged. “Why? Did you need me to watch Aiden and Jake?”

“No, actually. Jake has a sleepover tonight, and Aiden asked to go to Mark’s for the night.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “So no annoying brothers—” She held up a finger as her phone rang. “Hold that thought.”

She grabbed it from the counter, smiling as she saw Jason’s face on the lock screen. “Hey. Good morning.” She wandered away from Cameron, into the living room. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Hey,” he replied. “Is that a good thing?”

“You tell me. What’s up?”

“Just touching base. Uh, I don’t know if Cam wanted to work on his car this weekend, but the bathroom guys are there today. So I’m not going to the garage. I was gonna stay in, work on the files before Spinelli dumps another pile on us.”

She pressed her lips together, fought back the irritation at the word files. It was going to develop into a twitch if she wasn’t careful. “No, Cam knew that. He’s studying today. Spinelli’s not threatening another delivery, is he? We may have to break his printer.”

“No, I think he’s going to focus on Maddox’s encryption key this weekend.”

“I don’t know whether to hope that works or that it takes a month.” Elizabeth sighed. “Okay, well, I have my own stack to get through, so I’ll call you if I find anything.”

She didn’t wait for him to say goodbye, not even sure why she was feeling the simmering of resentment. It wasn’t like Jason was cutting her out or refusing to spend time with her. She could have asked him to do something else — or even read the damn things together. Any frustration she felt was on her.

But it was just starting to feel…familiar. She and Jason turning a corner on their relationship, then real world problems coming up and taking up all his attention. The damn files weren’t much better than Carly or Sonny’s phone calls all those years ago.

And just like she’d wanted to throw his damn phone into the harbor, she was now imagining if anyone would suspect her if she just stole Spinelli’s computer and launched that into the water.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?” She cleared her throat, went back into the kitchen. “Yeah?”

“You good? You were going to say something before.” Cameron frowned. “Was that Jason on the phone? Did something happen?”

“No, no. I mean, yes, it was Jason.” She slid her phone into her back pocket, folded her arms. “I don’t remember what we were talking about.”

“Plans for the day. You know, if Jake and Aiden are going to be gone overnight, uh, you don’t have to—” Cameron frowned. “Well, I’m fifteen. You know. I don’t need supervision. And it’d be nice to have the house to myself to actually get work done.”

“You know what—” Elizabeth nodded. “That’s a great idea. I’ll go find something to do and leave you to writing about poetry.”

She was going to take Felix’s advice and take charge. This didn’t have to be a repeat of history. If she wanted Jason’s attention, she was just going to have to ask for it. She wasn’t a nervous girl afraid of rejection anymore—no time like the present to prove that to herself—and to Jason.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Spencer brooded over his pancakes, pushing the pieces around the plate with his fork. He was having the absolute worst first week back in Port Charles. His grandmother was treating him like a child, his cousin was a pain in the ass who wouldn’t even help, and he was banned from doing the one thing that made him feel okay for the first time since his father’s death.

“Didn’t you ever learn not to play with your food?”

He glanced up to see Trina arching a brow at him, her hands braced on the lower counter below the higher one where he was seated. “No. Didn’t you get the memo? No parents.”

Trina rolled her eyes, turned to check the coffee pots. “You gonna use that dead mom and dad thing for the rest of your life?”

“Well, about the time I got over the dead mom thing, I joined a new club. The Dead Dad club.” He speared another piece of pancake, shoved it in his mouth.

“Do you ever really get over a dead mom?” Trina wondered, and he frowned, swallowed. “I mean, academically speaking. How would you know? Do you wake up one day, and decide, you know what? It’s okay that my mom is dead.”

“Are we really having this conversation—”

“Well, I doubt you want to talk about why you and Cameron are currently enemies. All he told me last night was that you had a fight, and that you sucked.” She shrugged a shoulder, started to wrap utensils into napkins. “Boys are dumb—”

“I called him a coward, and he called me an asshole.” Spencer furrowed his brow. That hadn’t been it. “No, I think it was selfish bastard.”

Trina disappeared to deliver a set of orders, then take others. When she returned, she started to pour coffee for her customers. “Okay. So you insulted each other. That still doesn’t tell me why.”

He sighed, considered if he should even bother. Everyone was always on Cameron’s side — he was the calm, logical one and Spencer was the impulsive idiot. He’d heard that so many times growing up. Spencer always took things one step too far.

And of course, they were right, which Spencer hated. Because he’d definitely gone too far this time. Getting so mad at his grandmother that he’d called her crazy — she’d accepted his apology, but he’d seen her flinch, and knew she’d struggled with her mental health for a long time. And maybe coward hadn’t been the right word, but it was frustrating to be constantly wrong even before he got to defend himself.

Trina returned, folded her arms. “Well, you gonna tell me or do you want me to leave you alone?”

“I’ll tell you,” Spencer said reluctantly. “I went to Jason’s garage the other day with the rest of them, and he let me read some of those files they’ve been going over. You know about them, right?”

“Yeah. Cam told me they found some stuff in your grandma’s law book or something. A thumb drive with a lot of info. Said his mom is always reading medical reports, and Jason’s always in his office. Sounds boring.”

“You’d think that, but the stuff Jason’s going over is all records from the WSB — and it’s, like, incident reports, and surveillance reports, and interviews—they’re all about my family. They did this really deep investigation after the Ice Princess, and it’s all the stuff that my dad never would have told me.” Spencer leaned forward. “No one but my great-grandmother ever wanted to tell me about our family.”

“Your great-grandmother, the noted sociopath super villain,” Trina said. She frowned. “You don’t think she had an ulterior motive in sharing the info or something?”

“Maybe she did, but—” Spencer scowled. “You don’t get it—”

“No, no. I do, sort of. You don’t really have a relationship with your mom’s side, except for your uncle. And your dad’s side is…complicated. You wanted to know more. Plus, your dad was…well, that’s why he’s not here anymore. Makes sense.”

Spencer slapped his hand against the counter. “Thank you! Someone gets it!”

“I didn’t say that,” Trina said. “I still don’t understand what does it have to with you and Cam?”

He made a face, looked back at his pancakes. “Cam’s a little mad because I sort of put him and Jason in the middle of an argument with my grandmother. She doesn’t want me to read the files. Which,” he said, drawing out the word with a wince, “I knew before I asked Jason if I could. I figured he didn’t know.”

“But Cameron did.”

“Yes.”

“And he didn’t tell Jason, either.”

“No.”

“Okay, starting to see how you’re the bad guy.” She made a little circle in the air with her index finger. “Continue.”

“Cam covered for me which was cool. He just wanted to work on his car, so it was great for all of us. But I lost track of time, my grandmother showed up, and she went off on Jason. They got into a fight, and now I’m banned from the garage.”

“Okay.” Trina paused. “I don’t understand. Cam covered for you.”

“He’s mad at me for putting him in the middle, and because I wanted to keep pushing. I know Jason thinks I should be able to help. He got ticked at me because then Jason took him home, and Aunt Liz was arguing with Jason. She’s on Grandmother’s side, and Cam’s…touchy about anything that upsets his mother.”

“I…have noticed that,” Trina said carefully. “He’s very protective of her—”

“Don’t get it twisted. It goes both ways. Aunt Liz is close to a mom as I ever got, you know. She was around a lot when I was a kid because she was sort of with my dad for a minute, but that’s not the point. Anyway, I think Cam also kind of likes having Jason around now—which he’d never admit—and he just…he can’t be talked to when he gets like that. You’ve seen it.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Trina tipped her head. “There’s more, though. Isn’t there? Where does selfish bastard and coward come in?”

“Should have known you’d remember that,” Spencer muttered. “Okay, this is probably the part where he might be right. I kind of suggested he’s not doing enough to help and that he’s a coward because of what happened to his brother—yep.” Spencer slumped back. “There it is. You’re back on his side.”

“I’m not on—” Trina shook her head. “Wait a minute.” She went to the window, grabbed some orders, then delivered them. When she returned, she said, “I’m not on anyone’s side. I think this just comes down to a simple thing. You and Cam are different people. He’s not a take action guy. He never was. He was always better sitting back and letting things happen. When we were kids, and you were fighting over Emma—”

“Hard to call it a fight when she never noticed me,” Spencer muttered, stabbing his pancake.

“You always did all these grand gestures, remember? Crashing the Nurse’s Ball when they were performing? Buying elaborate gifts — all this flashy stuff that wasn’t up Emma’s alley. Which you would have known if you actually knew her. It’s not a bad thing, Spencer. Grand gestures are great — for the right person. Just like now. Your way? Demanding to be involved, to participate? That works for you.”

“Not for Cameron.”

“No. He sits back, and he focuses on what matters for him. You’ve known him his entire life, Spencer. What’s important to him?”

“His brothers and his mother. In that order.” Spencer leaned back on the stool, shoved his plate back. “And he’s always with them.”

“I knew he was close to them, but when we started dating last summer, I realized how much time he spends with them. I know it’s because of his mother’s job, but it didn’t have to be Cameron doing it. He volunteered at Lila’s Kids because they attended the camp. I used to think that maybe his mom made him do all that — or maybe she was expecting too much — we had a fight about it. He’d cancel dates with me if Jake needed someone to help him with homework or take Aiden to piano practice. I got mad a few times,” she admitted. “But he told me from the beginning. Jake and Aiden come first.”

“You’re not mad about it anymore?”

“Worried, maybe. Not mad. Not anymore.” Trina hesitated. “Jake was kidnapped three times, did you know that? When he was a baby—twice. And then for four years. I don’t have siblings, Spencer, so I don’t know what it’s like. Imagine, for years your little brother is dead. You watch your mother grieve, you feel this empty space where he’s supposed to be—”

“And then he’s back.”

“Cameron feels like he got a second chance to take care of Jake. And it’s not his mother who makes him feel guilty. I thought maybe it was. Cam puts that pressure on himself. And I don’t know how to fix that. He just takes responsibility for these things he shouldn’t.” She took his half-eaten plate, dumped it in the bin. “Cameron’s not a coward, Spencer. He’s just doing the quiet work behind the scenes to make sure that Jake is okay.”

“Well, now I actually feel like a selfish bastard.” He twirled the straw in his chocolate milk. “I’ll apologize.”

“You’re not wrong for wanting justice for your father. For wanting to be part of that, Spencer. That’s not what I’m saying. When we were kids, you never had room for anyone who thought differently from you. Your way was the correct way, and the rest of us—” She lifted her hands. “Where did that get you?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a point. I’ll talk to him. And I’ll talk to my grandmother again. I don’t want to hurt anyone to get what I want. That’s not making anything better.”

“Good. Now I gotta get back to work or I’m gonna get screwed on my tips.”

——

While Spencer and Trina chatted at the counter, Kristina took a seat across from her sister. “Um, hey.”

“Hey.” Sam set aside the menu. “I was surprised to hear from you. I didn’t think I was your favorite person right now.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Um, you know, I’m just working through some things. And also there’s the internship at the hospital, and stuff.” Kristina tucked her hair behind her ears. “I was going to stay out of this, but I can’t stop thinking about it. About what happened with my dad—”

Sam sighed, shifted in her seat. “I really don’t want to get into this—”

“I talked to Molly about it—”

“Great.” Sam flattened her palm against the menu, her expression irritated. “Krissy, I don’t know why you can’t just stay out of things—”

“I want to. But you’re my sister. And you were upset that day. I just…” Kristina hesitated. “I don’t know if I’ve been fair to you. Things have been all mixed up in my head with what I found out, and it’s messed me up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not one of my proudest moments.”

“I just—when it went down last fall, when I found that video, you didn’t flinch. You told me the truth. So I figure I owe you a little space. You always listened to me, Sam. So I wanna try to do that for you.”

Sam frowned. “Krissy—”

“This divorce thing with Jason—” Sam clenched her jaw, but her sister continued, “With the custody, and whatever Dad was talking about with the money.  I’ve seen enough of the people in my life go through divorces, so I know they’re usually just hurt people hurting each other more, so I thought maybe you could just talk to me. And tell me what’s going on. And then I won’t say anything.”

“You won’t say anything,” Sam repeated, slowly. “I don’t understand—”

“Safe space.” Kristina mimed creating an empty box. “Judgment-free zone. I keep my thoughts to myself.”

Sam pressed her lips together. “And if I don’t want to talk about it?”

“That…would suck,” Kristina admitted, “but that’s up to you. You set the terms, Sam.”

Sam considered it, then nodded. “All right. What do you want to know?”

“Oh. Okay. We can do it that way. I guess, maybe—now that time has passed, and we’ve kind of had time to let everything settle.” Kristina tipped her head. “That night. When you went to the police station. Did you know the truth? About which brother was which?”

Sam picked up a sugar packet, played with the edge. “It’s more accurate to say that I didn’t want to know,” she said softly. “Before it happened, I liked my life. I loved my husband. My kids were happy. I was creating a really great future. For the first time in a long time, I really thought it was going to be a new chapter. It was,” she said with a wry smile. “But not a happy one.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“But, yeah, okay. When I saw Jason—when I heard his voice—it was little things,” Sam murmured. “Little things I hadn’t thought of before. I couldn’t have until they were in the same room. Jason’s always had this—” She bit her lip. “Stillness about him. You know? It’s hard to describe. But it’s the way he stands—the air around him.”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“It really messed me up. To see that — to realize that I didn’t even notice it. That it had been missing. And then, of course, he looked the same. The eyes. The voice.” Sam wrinkled her nose. “But my husband was right next to me. And I saw his face when he realized Sonny and Carly were already choosing the other guy’s side. And then when Elizabeth—I just—” She cleared her throat. “How could I abandon him? I didn’t want to. Even if I could see the evidence in front of me, Krissy. How could I do that? He was my husband. It wasn’t his name. It really wasn’t. He needed me to believe him in that moment, so I did it.” She swiped at her eyes. “Later, I think maybe I should have admitted to more doubts. I guess. I don’t know. But I made the choice that felt right in the moment.”

“Did you ever try to talk to Jason?”

“Did I seek him out? No. I ran into him a few days later on Halloween with Danny. He was just—out in the world. Like it was normal.” Sam sighed. “And I think he knew that I knew. If that makes sense. But I had to keep—I couldn’t say it out loud. It doesn’t matter what I knew, it wasn’t real until it had to be. I couldn’t let it be real.”

She stopped when Trina came over to take their orders. Her eyes followed the waitress as she returned to the counter, to a conversation with Spencer. “He never came to me either, Krissy. I thought he would. But he didn’t. At least that I knew about.”

“That’s what Dad was talking about?”

Sam raised her eyes to the ceiling. “It makes sense that Jason came there first. It was his home. But he saw me with the kids. With Drew. And I guess—” Her mouth twitched. “I guess he didn’t think it was fair to drag me into it when he thought I was happy with someone else.”

“Would things have been different if you knew? Like if you’d known that before Dad told you.” Kristina folded her arms, leaned forward. “Do you think you would have stuck with Drew then?”

“I don’t know what it would have changed—Drew still needed me. He was still my husband. I love him, Krissy.”

“I know you do.”

“So, like, no, the answer is supposed to be no. Because so what? So what if he came to the penthouse? He still didn’t talk to me. He still didn’t—” Sam shook her head. “But I don’t know. I don’t know. I think maybe it’s—I didn’t see him again after that night in the PCPD. I went out of my way to be sure I wouldn’t see him. Until he showed up at the penthouse last month.”

“What happened?”

“He told me—” Sam used her index fingers to lightly brush at the tears in her eyes before they smudged her eye makeup. “He told me that he had wanted to wait. To let things settle. Because he knew how hard this was for me. And I was like, okay. Okay. He’s going to do it now. He’s going to tell me that he wants the life we had before. That he misses me. That he loves me. And I was so busy thinking about what I’d say, how I’d tell him no—that I almost missed the fact that he was asking for a divorce.”

“You were ready to tell him no?”

“Yes. Yes, I was.” She was convinced of that. “I was going to tell him no, but it hit me that he’d come to me asking for a divorce, and I just—” Her breath rushed out. “I just kind of lost it. Because it wasn’t what I expected. Or wanted. How could he—how could he just show up like that after he blew apart my whole life—and then ask me for a divorce?”

She took the napkin Kristina handed her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get upset.”

“Okay, I get all of that. But you and Mom were already arguing about your divorce plans. You were planning for a divorce. And you were already going a bit hard on the custody and finances. What did any of that change?”

“Before he came?” Sam frowned. “I don’t really remember—I guess I was asking for the penthouse, and I wanted to have money for Aurora. And maybe I felt like Jason owed me. But I had to plan for a divorce. It had to be done. I was doing it because it was—we had to. Because it was complicated. Drew and I couldn’t be married without it. And he had a wife he had to deal with—” Sam stopped abruptly, when she saw Trina coming out from the kitchen with the orders. “Um, thanks.”

“No problem.” Trina disappeared, and Sam cleared her throat. “I was going to divorce Jason. But I was going to do it because I’d already moved on. Okay? It was five years. I was allowed to move on. But—”

“But he was asleep for all those years,” Kristina said. “And when he was kidnapped, he was supposed to be still in love with you, looking for a new start. When he woke up in Russia, he didn’t know that time had passed. It should have been harder for him to ask for the divorce.”

“Yes.” Sam took a deep breath. “Yes, that’s—I didn’t think about it that way,” she murmured, more to herself. “For him it hadn’t been that long. And I was already struggling because Danny is such a big issue between us—and I still think he’s better off with Drew. Jason didn’t want him—just talking about Danny, seeing Jason, and the way Danny looks like him—do you get that it messed me up, Krissy?”

“I do. I really do, Sam.” She tipped her head. “I was wondering—you and Mom were arguing about custody. But I know you’re asking for financial stuff. Was that part of it before the divorce?”

“Some of it was already in the petition, yeah, but I kept waiting to file. Kept waiting for something to change so I didn’t have to, and then—and then it changed. And I knew that I had to act.”

“So you filed them.”

“Because I was angry,” she admitted. “Because I wanted to—” She shook her head. “I wanted to hurt him. I didn’t understand how he could just—tell me he wanted a life with me, come home and then not want it anymore? And it was worse because I know why. I know why.” Her mouth felt sour. “Elizabeth. She did everything right from the beginning. She was always there, you know that? Always in the background. Even when she wasn’t trying to get between us—” She stopped, took another deep breath. “He was with her that summer—before we got back together. Before the pier. I know they nearly—I don’t know when they stopped. But Elizabeth is always in his head, and now there’s Jake. And I think—I needed him to choose me, Krissy. To really choose me. And he didn’t. He never will.”

Kristina studied her for a long moment. “But you didn’t want to choose him, Sam.”

“No, no, but—God. It makes me sound like such petty bitch,” Sam muttered. “I wanted him to choose me, Krissy, so that I could reject him. So I could tell him I’d grown up. That I didn’t need him anymore. I wasn’t going to beg for him to actually forgive me for—for things I did. I wasn’t going to chase him, trying to be good enough. I needed to tell him that, but—but it doesn’t count. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t want me. It’s not—” Sam looked away. “So I wanted to hurt him. And I knew how to do it. I knew the financial demands would make his life difficult and keep him in court, going over and over it with Diane. I’ll lose almost all of it, to be honest, and I know that. But I wanted to make sure he couldn’t walk away from me that easily. And then I used Jake.”

She focused on her sister. “I hit him where it would actually hurt him. So maybe he could feel, just for a minute, the way I did that day in the penthouse. After everything he did and said to me while I was pregnant with Danny, for all the ways I humiliated myself to make him love me again—yeah, I wanted to hurt him. And I’m not finished yet. He wants to walk away and start a life with Elizabeth like Danny, and I don’t matter? That’s not going to happen. I’m not finished with him yet.”

Morgan House: Street

Elizabeth paused at the stop sign a block from Jason’s house, checked for oncoming traffic, then continued. She’d done exactly what Felix had advised — she’d blown out her hair the way she’d worn it during the time they’d been meeting secretly at the Metro Court. She was wearing something lacy underneath her sweater and jeans—

She only wished she had half the confidence she’d had back in those days when she’d waited impatiently for Jason to show up at the door to whatever room they’d rented for the night—he’d come in, and they wouldn’t even talk—sometimes they didn’t even make it to the bed—

She was older now, and so was he, but that heat didn’t just go away. It had been right there last month, leading into New Year’s. And wasn’t Felix, right? If Elizabeth wanted a little more romance in her life, then she needed to show Jason that. It wasn’t fair to expect him to read her mind—

She pulled into his driveway, checked her makeup in the rear view mirror, then gave herself one more pep talk before getting out of the car.

Morgan House: Living Room

Inside the house, Jason wasn’t thinking about Elizabeth or the boys, or anything else that usually occupied his attention.

He’d meant to spend time on the WSB records, but when he’d been grabbing things to take home yesterday, he’d accidentally mixed in the Patient 2 records Spinelli had left for him—

And he’d started to read them instead.

He read the reports in order—beginning with the cold description of a sedated teenager, the doctor’s frustrations that Lucky refused to accept his captivity—the doctor was disappointed that they’d had to stop their work while Lucky’s vocal cords healed. He’d injured them from all the screaming.

Screaming to get out.

Jason had put the papers aside after that, looked at the laptop, and almost without thinking about what he was doing—Jason had navigated to the folder where he knew the files were stored—

And he clicked on one of the videos.

The image was a bit fuzzy, from an old camera, but it was clearly a room — mostly bare with a single twin bed and metal frame. There were shelving units built into the room with clothes, books, even what looked like a stereo.

Lucky was pacing the room — not the adult man that Jason had last seen, but the lanky teenage boy who had worked for him before the fire, who had washed cars and performed small tasks. He’d lived in Jason’s old boxcar for a while—almost following the template that Jason had after the accident. He’d left home for what felt like a good reason, started in the boxcar—

It was why Jason had offered him the job and room at the garage. He’d liked Lucky, and Luke had always been a trusted confidante. He wanted to look out for Lucky, the way Sonny and Luke had for Jason. To return the favor.

Jason had blamed himself for a long time after that fire. Even though it was an accident — if Lucky had still been in the boxcar—

Lucky occasionally banged on the doors, then paced again. In his hands, there was some sort of paper. He kept looking at it, and Jason realized eventually it was a photograph. Lucky came towards the bed, closer to the camera. He stretched out on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

He knew that look, knew that expression. The hopelessness. The sense that no matter what you did, they’d never let you go. You were going to be trapped in this room forever, trapped in the bed—not able to move, not able to get up—was it just you? Were you the only one who was hurt, who they’d taken? Was someone else you loved in danger, too? Were they just down the hall—who was here—

There was a knock at the door, and it jolted Jason. He slammed the laptop down, went to the door and yanked it open.

Elizabeth was there, her eyes bright, her smile wide. “Hey—”

“What happened?” Jason looked past her, up and down the street. Had she been followed? Was someone out there? He grabbed her arm, yanked her inside, closed the door. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She stared at him, then her smile faded.

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