You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi
I can tell that it’s gonna be a long road
I’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe
Or if you strike out and you’re crawling home
Don’t read the last page
But I stay when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or we’re making mistakes
I want your midnights
But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day
– New Year’s Day, Taylor Swift

---

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Port Charles Airport: Arrivals 

They exited the plane and moved through security, then bypassing baggage claim. Beyond it was the arrivals hall where families and friends waited for passengers to disembark.

Jason started to scan the crowd for a familiar guard — he figured Sonny would have sent Max or maybe Milo—but then his gaze halted — there was a group of people blocking someone—but he knew—

“Should have just parked a car in the lot,” Drew began, but Jason ignored him, walked forward—unsure if he was imagining it—if he’d just dreamed her into life—he’d done that sometimes, wishing so hard for to be in front of him, that his eyes would trick him—

But Elizabeth was there—he’d caught just the barest glimpse of her chestnut hair through the crowd and then the people around her had moved, and he could see her searching, her eyes darting around—then the smile when she found him. When their eyes met.

Jason forgot about Drew or anything—he closed the distance between them, his longer legs eating up the space faster—

“Hey,” she began. Anything else she might have said was lost when he tugged her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. He’d missed her more than he realized—had grown too used to seeing her every day—

Her fingers fisted in the material of his shirt. “Hey,” she repeated when he finally let go her go, her dreamy gaze a bit unfocused.

“Hey.” Jason tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I thought Sonny was sending Max.”

“Disappointed?”

“Never.”

Drew joined them, his lips curved into a half smile, his duffel slung over his shoulder. “This is a nice surprise,” he said. “Unless you’re here with bad news.”

“No. No. Nothing that can’t wait for tomorrow. You still okay with meeting at Laura’s?”

“As long as I get eight hours of sleep before then.” Drew rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been a long couple of days.”

“Then let’s get out of here.” Jason picked up his bag, laced his fingers through Elizabeth’s and they headed for the exit.

Spencer House: Spencer’s Bedroom

“You know, you think you understand how crazy your family is—” Spencer crawled across his bed to reach for the second controller Cameron was holding up from the floor. “But then you actually get to read witness reports about a weather machine your great-grandfather built and died in—”

“Yeah? More gruesome than you were expecting?” Cameron sat up, leaning his back against the foot the bed. He flicked a few buttons until the campaign started playing. “Whenever I heard that story, it just seemed like he’d watched one too many Bond movies.”

“And learned the wrong lessons—go down this alley,” Spencer said, furrowing his brow. “I think that’s—yeah. Good. Yeah, kind of trippy though. Apparently, there was, like, a blizzard here in Port Charles.”

“Yeah? In the middle of summer?”

“No, September. But still.” Spencer sat cross-legged. “It’s boring, though, I’ll be honest. Reading the files. I kind of thought I’d find something that we could do something with.”

“Do something?” Cameron echoed. He made a face. “Didn’t you promise Grandma that you’d just read?”

“Well, yeah, otherwise she’d never have let me. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Spencer shrugged. “I was talking to Trina about it when we were at the garage today, and she wanted to know how we knew Mikkos was actually dead.”

Cameron frowned, then paused the game. He twisted to look at his cousin. “Trina?”

“Yeah, she was reading with me. And you know, Cassadines don’t really die at first. Everyone gets a few false starts. My grandfather, Stavros? Died like twice before that last one.” Spencer hesitated. “Or three times. I lost count. And Grandmother, well, that’s obvious.”

“Not even sure she’s dead this time,” Cameron muttered.

“And my uncle Stefan? He faked his death, too. And they thought my dad was dead like twice before—” Spencer pressed his lips together. “Well, anyway.”

“I thought they found this Mikkos guy. The body anyway.”

“Your brother died in a hospital, Cam. With surgeons to declare him dead. They buried him.”

Cameron stared down at the black plastic controller. “Point taken.”

“Sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, you’re right. When it comes to the Cassadines—” He shrugged. “Can’t really rule anything out. What about your dad?”

“What about him?” Spencer said defensively. “He’s gone, this time for sure. We’d know if he was alive.” When Cameron said nothing, Spencer’s eyes darkened. “He’d have come back for me, Cam. Okay? He wouldn’t let me think he was dead all this time.”

“No, I know. I know. I just—I guess if we’re speculating about frozen dead guys from decades ago, it’s only fair to bring in another guy. And maybe if your dad were alive, there’s a reason he can’t come back. Like…my brother. Or Jason.”

“Maybe.” Spencer slid down onto the floor next to Cameron. “I wonder sometimes, you know. If maybe it were true.”

“I hope it is,” Cameron said. “But only if he couldn’t come back. You know? I don’t…I don’t want him to be like my dad—” He grimaced. “Like Lucky—”

“You can still call him Dad, Cam. No one’s gonna think less of you.” Spencer bumped his shoulder. “Unless you’re thinking about getting a new one.”

“No. Definitely not. I’m glad my mom’s happy. I’m glad Jason’s a good guy, and that Jake’s doing okay with all of it—” Cameron paused. “It’s stupid to think that my dad could show up and have a good reason for what he said at Christmas. For never calling or being around. There’s no reason good enough. Just like your dad. If he’s out there and not coming back — I don’t know. It just sucks. All of it. Not that I think he is—Uncle Nikolas wouldn’t do that—”

“He did some other stuff before he died, though,” Spencer said. He traded a look with his cousin, and they looked back at the screen. “So I don’t know. Doesn’t say much about me that I hope my dad’s dead or in one of those stupid comas. Because the other options aren’t great.”

“Maybe we’ll find out in those files,” Cameron suggested. “I could help read, if you want. Take a break from working on my car.”

“No, it’s cool. We need someone to be legal behind the wheels, and you’re the first one up. But thanks.” Spencer flashed him a grim smile. “I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“Well, Trina’s good for details, so you’ve already got some good on the team.” Cameron lifted his controller. “Now let’s get back to me kicking your ass.”

Morgan House: Driveway

Elizabeth pulled into the driveway behind the dark SUV, then switched off the engine. Jason paused, his hand on the handle, expecting to be dropped off while she headed home to the boys.

“Elizabeth?”

“I, um, Laura has the boys,” she said in a rush. His hand fell from the handle, and he shifted in his seat so that he could see her, though her face was only dimly lit by the security light by the front door. “I would have asked or run it past before you left but I didn’t—she didn’t offer until today—so I was thinking—if it’s okay—”

He cut off the ramble of words with his mouth, his hand on her throat, her pulse beating rapidly beneath his fingers. “You never have to ask,” he murmured against her mouth.

Elizabeth laughed, but it sounded a bit nervous and unsure, so he reached down, unsnapped her seat belt, then tugged her over the center console until she was in his lap, her back to the door and her legs still dangling over to the driver’s seat. Jason tangled his hand in her hair and kissed her again. Her nails scraped lightly down the back of his neck, and she struggled, shifting to straddle him, her hands sliding down his chest to the button—

And he rapped his elbow sharply against the window. Jason swore, and Elizabeth giggled, leaning her forehead against his. “We’re not really going to do this in the car, are we?” she asked. She leaned back, and he rested his hands at her hips. “It’s not like we’re teenagers who can’t go home.”

“There’s a bed inside,” he reminded, curling a finger in the belt loop of her jeans and tugging her back to him. She kissed him, keeping it light and soft. “And at least one room we haven’t been in.”

“That’s true—but—” She fisted her hands in his shirt and grinned. “The sofa’s closer.”

Metro Court Hotel: Suite

It was really time to prioritize finding somewhere permanent to live. He’d checked into the hotel, hoping it would be temporary. That leaving would shock Sam back to her senses and they could resolve things—

He realized now, as he slid the access key into the lock, then pushed it open, that he’d thought he’d be home by now. Instead, he was back at the hotel, considering a late call to room service and eying his neatly made empty bed with disgust. And Sam was across town, with Danny and Scout tucked away in their rooms.

He dumped his duffel next to the bed, then sank down, perching at the edge. He could call Diane and force some movement. File for custody. File for divorce. Do something that would shake the status quo.

But Drew didn’t want to do any of that. He didn’t want to burn bridges that couldn’t be rebuilt. Sam would see reason. She had to. He was a damned good father, and he knew she loved him. She’d stayed with him, hadn’t she? She’d chosen him when Jason had come home. That had to mean something.

He dragged a tired hand down his face, and let himself drift back to that moment in the airport, when he’d been walking with Jason, each of them looking for one of Sonny’s guards, and then look in Jason’s eyes when he’d found Elizabeth, when the world had fallen away and he’d gone towards her—

Drew had looked past Elizabeth, and just for one insane moment, he’d wondered if maybe Sam would be there, too. Maybe she’d missed him. But no, Sam hadn’t even known he was gone.

So instead, he’d watched Jason greet the woman he loved, and knew as Elizabeth had dropped him off in the hotel, that they’d go somewhere together. He didn’t begrudge them that happiness—how could he with all that he knew of what had come before—

But Drew wanted a piece of it for his own. So tomorrow, he’d go to see Sam and then he’d call Oscar.

It was time for all of them to stop standing still and take the next step. Wherever it led.

Morgan House: Bedroom

Elizabeth stirred, stretching her arm out across the mattress, frowning when it met nothing but air. She opened her eyes, found the space next to her empty, then rolled over, her eyes searching in the dark room.

As her vision adjusted, she made out the dim shape by the bay window overlooking the street. Elizabeth sat up, the sheets rustling. Jason turned, his shadow shifting.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” She cleared her throat, pushed back the comforter and found Jason’s discarded shirt by the end of the bed. She pulled it over her head and joined him at the window, sliding her arm around his waist, just above his sweatpants. She could see a bit more clearly now, and there was some light from the street lamps outside. “Jet lag?”

“A little. But you should sleep. Don’t you have to work—”

“Not until later. I have the night shift starting tomorrow.” She rested her head against his chest, his arms embracing her. She could sleep just like this, she thought, wrapped warmly in Jason’s arms, his quiet breathing lulling her into dreams—

“Drew said you’d talked to Scott about Susan Moore.”

The words jerked her back to reality, and Elizabeth stepped back. “What?”

Jason sighed, then moved away. He switched on a light by the bed, and she winced, covering her eyes. “Drew. On the flight to Turkey. He said you’d talked to Scott.”

“Weeks ago. I forgot about it, actually.” Elizabeth tipped her head. “Why is he bringing this up now? Did he find something?”

“They looked into it.” Jason sat on the edge of the bed, and she joined him, curling one leg beneath her. “Curtis found some paperwork—Drew was put into the foster system just after Susan was murdered.”

“Oh—oh, God.” Elizabeth pressed two fingers to her lips. “What does that mean? What does he think—”

“He thinks—” Jason hesitated, then looked away, towards some undefined point in the distance. “He thinks Monica and Tracy know something. One of them did it and covered for the other, or they did it together.”

“Did what? Got rid of Drew?”

“Yeah. Drew and Robert said something to her before New Year’s. Separately. And now Drew wants—I don’t know—he wants to know if we should keep going.”

“I didn’t—I would have said something if I realized—it was just some old gossip I passed to Drew, Jason. I never would—”

“I know.” He squeezed her knee, then left his hand covering it. “I know,” Jason repeated. “I don’t know what to do. Should Curtis and Robert keep going?” She waited, and he spoke again, “If we do this, and it’s true, where—what happens? Does she go to jail?”

“Do you think she should?” Elizabeth asked softly. “If she was the reason Drew ended up in the system, growing up without a family—I know you don’t think much about the Quartermaines, but—” She closed her mouth, unsure how to continue.

“Drew told me that if I don’t want to do this, he won’t go forward. He’ll put it away.” He traced a pattern on her thigh, left bare by his t-shirt. She leaned against his shoulder. “He thinks if he did it without me, it would…” He paused. “We’d never be brothers.”

She was quiet for a long moment, taking it in. “And it’s something he wants, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you?”

“I don’t—” Jason considered the question again. “I had a brother once. AJ and I—we got along sometimes after the accident, but it changed after Michael. I didn’t…I didn’t know I was throwing anything away. That it would ever matter that he hated me. I didn’t care what he thought.” He paused. “But I see the boys — the way Cameron takes care of Jake and Aiden — how they are together — and I know I made a mistake. It was like that sometimes with Emily and AJ. Before Michael.” She remained quiet, her breathing soft. Comforting. “It was like that a little in Turkey. Maybe it would be okay. If we were brothers.”

“What do you want to do about Susan? About Monica?”

“I don’t—” Jason sighed, looked at the shadows clinging to the ceiling. “I don’t know. What do I owe to a woman I don’t remember. That Drew never met? Monica’s been through so much. I can believe if she did it all those years ago, she regrets it now. Maybe that could be enough.”

“You don’t remember her, Jason, because someone murdered her,” she said, her tone gentle, and he sighed. “She made a choice to bring you into this world. What do you owe to a mother you didn’t love? I can’t answer that. But maybe you owe it to yourself. You and Drew. For the lives that you never had the chance to live. Someone made sure that he never had a family or home to call his own.”

She rested her chin on his shoulder. “But what’s keeping you up right now isn’t whether or not you should keep asking questions. You already know the answer.”

“Yeah. I know. I just—it took a long time to look at Monica and see her as my mother. But if she did this—” He exhaled slowly. “If she did this, how do I look at her again? How do any of us?”

“And maybe she didn’t do this. How can you go on without knowing?” She pressed her lips to his skin. “Pandora’s box is open, Jason. We can’t go back.”

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