You’ve got to get yourself together
You’ve got stuck in a moment
And now you can’t get out of it
Oh love, look at you now
You’ve got yourself stuck in a moment
And now you can’t get out of it
– Stuck in a Moment, U2

---

April 2012

Crichton Clark Labs: Office

Victor took a seat across from Andre and flipped open his portfolio. “How are you settling in?”

“As well as can be expected,” Andre said as he reached for a folder. “I’m getting up to speed with some of the projects you’ve implemented using my protocol.” He paused. “There are a few patients that I’ve been told are outside of my purview. I thought that all of the patients here were part of the program—”

“We have some long-term residents,” Victor said smoothly. “The daughter of an old friend has been in a coma for some time, and I’m…” His lips twitched. “I’m holding on to someone for a family member. You know how family can be.”

Andre knew enough about the Cassadine family to understand that whatever favor Victor was doing was likely illegal and possibly downright evil, so he put that aside. “Fair enough, I’ll take my lead from you on that. I noticed your numbering system — you have a Patient Four. That suggests there were three other patients before him? Are they in another location?”

“The experiments with memory,” Victor said, carefully, “predate your protocol. Patient 1 was a set of twins a few decades ago—part of another organization.  We’ve been using our records and what we learned from them—I’ll see that you get a copy of their files.” He hesitated. “Patient 2 was a teenaged boy brought to us some time ago. He’s also not part of the experiment at the moment, but I imagine that might change.”

“And Patient 3?”

“Patient 3 is part of the overall experiment, but he will not be someone you are involved with. He’s under Dr. Obrecht’s care.”

“Ah.” Andre’s lips thinned, then he sat back. “Dr. Obrecht.”

“You’ve met her?”

“We’ve come into contact over the years. She’s, ah, interesting.” He scratched his cheek. “I saw her name on Patient 4’s files. That’s why I wanted to meet with you.”

“Are you displeased with Patient Four?”

“Not displeased. Concerned.” Andre opened the folder and slid something across the table. “This is an MRI scan taken on him last week. He’s been in the program since when, January?”

“Hmm, yes, he was brought to us January 15, and we implemented your protocol to map his memories in February.” Victor squinted at the scan. “What precisely am I looking at?”

“Here is the MRI scan from late in January shortly after his arrival.” Andre slid another scan. Victor picked it up, and even an untrained eye could see the difference.

“Ah, well, that mass in the frontal lobe is quite different.”

“It’s a tumor. I’m ordering a biopsy so we can learn whether or not it’s malignant or benign. Still, a tumor of this size—I think it was caused by how Dr. Obrecht handled the mapping. That concerns me because you’ve told me you’ve arranged for my first test subjects.”

“Yes, yes. A pair of twins. Male. Age—” Victor checked the portfolio. “Aged thirty-seven, though they may be thirty-eight by the time we arrange delivery. We’re hoping to get them in July, but we must extract them from their everyday lives without being noticed. Or at least without their disappearance being traced back to us.”

“You said one was a Navy Seal from San Diego, and the other—” Andre squinted at the profile. “A mob enforcer,” he said slowly. “Really?” He tilted his head. “What makes them suitable for this project?”

“They’re twins who were separated at birth. To the best of my knowledge, they don’t know the other exists. They live entirely separate lives,” Victor said, “but there are some extraordinary personality similarities based on my research. Despite our mob enforcer’s the life of crime, he is apparently a well-respected member of his community, known for his loyalty and honesty.”

“That—” Andre blinked. “How is that possible?” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll do better if we just keep the personal stuff out of it. So Patient Five—the Navy Seal—and Patient Six—the gangster—I’m concerned that my protocol might create brain tumors. If I can’t learn what happened—”

“Well,” Victor sighed, “I’ll admit that we began with your protocol, but we had a different goal for Patient Four, so Liesl had to…improvise.”

“How? What was the goal? Victor, you told me that I was in charge—”

“And you are. As of today, Patient Four is entirely under your control.” He was quiet for a moment. “I told you we were interested in using your protocol as a witness interrogation technique, so we mapped his memories so that we could explore them—but we attempted to remove those memories from Patient Four so that he could not tell anyone what we were looking for.”

“Erase them? Why does it matter—”

“He had knowledge of Patient Five as a child,” Victor explained. “I intend to release him back into the wild at some point, but I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t tell anyone. He didn’t the last time he had the opportunity, but these types of sociopaths—you can never tell.”

“What kind of knowledge?” Andre asked. “How could it be a problem—”

“He and Five were foster brothers for a time before they were separated,” Victor said. “He tracked down Six thinking that it was his long-lost brother. When he realized it was a twin, he…was quite angry and set about destroying Six’s life. I thought it best if we just—removed any memory of why he became obsessed with Jas—With Six,” he corrected smoothly. “Are you determined to continue with this number nonsense?”

“What you want me to do, Victor,” Andre told him, “is outside of medical ethics. You and I both know what we’re planning with these twins—it’s wrong. It’s for the greater good, but I know what I’m doing. And I know there’s a possibility we will fail. If I treat these patients like numbers, I can keep myself away from it. You might not need that barrier, but I do.”

“Fair enough. A conscience can be terribly inconvenient.” Victor closed his portfolio and got to his feet. “What do you intend to do with Four?”

“I’ll keep running tests, look at the files—see if we can reverse the tumor.” Andre sighed. “But I think it might be best if Liesl Obrecht was taken off this project.”

“Not a problem. I have some other things she can do, and she may be needed back in Greece to work with Three.” He put up a hand. “Three is part of the program, but not the experiment. I promise, if that changes, I shall make you privy to it.”

Unsure and unsettled, but with little choice, Andre nodded. “You do that. And let me know when Five and Six are en route. I’m eager to get started.”

Friday, October 27, 2017

Metro Court Hotel: Ball Room

Valentin sipped his champagne, trying to keep his teeth from baring as Nina talked with Nelle Benson, her assistant. He kept one ear on their conversation and another on the crowd.

Andre Maddox had warned him that little Jake Webber had seen someone in the park that was probably the missing Russian patient, and Valentin was sure that once Jason Morgan learned of the man walking around town with his face, he’d come looking for him.

Valentin intended to find Jason first, to return him to Russia where he could be put back to sleep until Valentin needed him—if that day ever came. If Jason Morgan came face to face with Drew Cain—

How long would Valentin be able to hide his own involvement in the whole scheme?

“Valentin,” Nina began with a wide smile on her face. “Nelle was just saying—”

He never did learn what Nelle had been saying. Instead, as Valentin turned to look at his wife and the other woman, he caught sight of someone in the crowd who should have been meeting him at his office in the morning.

Dr. Joseph Klein.

He growled, startling Nina who stopped speaking in mid-sentence.

“What is your issue tonight?” she demanded, planting a hand on her hip as Nelle grimaced and melted into the crowd, away from them.

Before Valentin could go after the doctor and find out why he was at the hotel, the doors to the ballroom burst open and two men rolled through, grappling and attacking one another each other, each fighting to choke the life from the other—

Someone screamed and glass shattered. One of the men was wearing a baseball cap that came loose, and Valentin swore.

“Oh my God!” Carly Corinthos yelped as she shoved forward. Other men pushed past her—Sonny Corinthos, Dante Falconieri, and Nathan West—they waded into the fight, dragging the men apart.

Sonny grabbed Jason by the elbow while Dante and Nathan jerked Franco off the ground as Valentin’s heart pounded erratically. He swept his eyes over the crowd, taking in the shocked and stunned expressions of people as they looked at the face of a man who wasn’t supposed to exist.

Near the podium, where Drew Cain and Sam had been about to begin the evening, Valentin saw Drew staring across the room, his jaw clenched while Sam’s face had lost all its color.

“I want to press charges!” Franco was saying to the officers who held him back. “He attacked me!”

“Jason?” Carly whispered, touching the shoulder of the man Sonny was holding back. Near her, Michael had joined them and by Sonny, Valentin saw his mother’s old enemy, Elizabeth Webber. whose face was carefully blank.

She was more intelligent than his mother had ever given her credit for, Valentin knew, and it was likely she was already reaching the conclusion that her son had seen Jason in the park.

“Arrest him!”

“What the hell is going on here?” Drew said, finally finding his voice and pushing through the crowd. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded of the man who wore his old face. Valentin hissed, seeing Klein slip out of the crowd, towards the door.

He took off after him, leaving Nina without a second thought.

Webber House: Living Room

“Okay, so then when she’s not looking,” Trina said to Aiden patiently, “you put the blue hair dye in her shampoo—”

“But how do I get to her shampoo?” Aiden asked, furrowing his brows.

“Is that how you did it?” Joss demanded. “In my shampoo?” She wrinkled her face and picked up her phone to swipe through her Instagram feed. “I wondered. I thought you’d put it in my hair spray.”

Trina smirked. “Well, yeah, I put it there, too. Just to be sure.” She turned back to Aiden. “The next time you get dragged over for a party—”

“Whoa—” Joss turned towards Cameron, her eyes wide with shock. “Something just happened at the hotel—”

“What—” Cameron began leaning towards her even as he reached for his own phone. “Oscar—”

“Loading Twitter now—”

“I’ll check Facebook,” Trina volunteered. “That’s where all the old people post—”

“Yo, someone punched your mom’s boyfriend,” Oscar reported. “Look at #serialkillerdown, there are pictures—”

“No, I found a Facebook Live,” Trina said. Then she frowned. “Wait a second—” They all crowded around Trina’s phone while Joss tried to pull up the same feed on her iPad. “Dude—”

“I know that face,” Cameron said. He exchanged a look with Joss. “How—”

“That’s the guy I saw today!” Jake said, pointing at the screen. “Wait, what are they saying?”

Oscar was staring at his phone, his face oddly still. “You guys know him?”

“Um, I don’t know if we know him,” Joss said, “but—”

“Shh—” Trina said, waving her hand. “They’re saying stuff—”

“How is this possible?” Carly demanded.

“Who the hell are you?” came the voice of someone off screen, someone Cam recognized as Jason—the one who had lived with them as Jake Doe, but—

That was also Jason right there. Next to Joss’s stepdad and his mom. His mom was staring at the new guy with the old face like she’d seen a ghost. Thinking about Jake—maybe she had.

“I want him arrested!”

“There he is,” Aiden muttered. “I was hoping he’d been knocked out.” Jake sent him a sour look, but his younger brother put his face in his hand, glumly. “Maybe if Mr. Sonny lets the guy with Jake’s dad’s old face go—”

“There’s the commissioner,” Joss said, making a face. “And oh—damn—” Just like that, the feed went dead as Jordan Ashford took the phone from whoever was streaming the event. “I guess they’re going to the PCPD.” She looked at Oscar. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah—” He shook his head. “No. No, actually, I’m not sure because the guy that you guys seem to know—” Oscar looked at his girlfriend. “Did Aiden say he has Jake’s dad’s face?”

“Yeah, before Jason came home officially, he was here for a year as Jake Doe,” Joss explained. “He’d had an accident that screwed up his face and made him lose his memories. That guy with my Uncle Sonny—he looks just like Jason used to. And Jake saw him in the park earlier, right?” she said to the middle Webber boy.

“It’s just—” Oscar took a deep breath. “It’s just that he looks like my dad.”

Trina frowned. “Come again?”

“My dad. He disappeared while on a mission in Afghanistan. They, uh,” Oscar dragged a hand through his hair, his voice trembling slightly. “They tried to tell me and my stepmom that he was AWOL, but she knew it was bullshit.”

Cameron leaned forward. “When did your dad go missing?”

“July 2012,” Oscar said. “Why?”

“Because Jason—our Jason—” he said, “went missing in October of 2012.” Cameron looked down at a Twitter photo that had been posted of the scene at the hotel. “There’s two men who had that face. One of them is Jake’s dad—”

“The other must be yours,” Trina said to Oscar. “But which one?”

“Well, one of them tried to kill Franco on sight,” Joss offered, “and the other one let him live these last couple of years, so maybe that’s our answer.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

When the crowd had first arrived at the PCPD, the commissioner had initially denied access to anyone who wasn’t claiming to be Jason Morgan, but Franco had refused to stop screaming about pressing charges, Carly had loudly proclaimed that no one was keeping her away from Jason, and Sonny was calling lawyers —

So Jordan finally admitted both Jasons, Sam, Carly, Sonny, and because Franco wouldn’t shut up—she brought him and Elizabeth back because, as she’d told Elizabeth, Jordan hoped Elizabeth might be able to control him.

But Elizabeth didn’t really know what to think, or how to process what was happening in front of her — the man she’d been told was Jason Morgan for the last two years, whom she’d known for the last three — was furiously refusing to be in the same room as an impostor while the other man—the man with the face and eyes she’d loved since she was a teenager —

He just stood there next to Sonny, saying nothing except glaring daggers at Franco.

Though later Elizabeth would admit to herself that she’d known he was Jason from the moment she’d seen his face— it was that difference, the way they held themselves while Jordan tried to get control of the chaos — that tipped the scales.

“Why isn’t he in handcuffs?” Franco demanded, raising his voice over the man who wasn’t Jason. He touched his throat. “He tried to kill me—”

“That just shows good sense,” Sonny muttered.

“I want to know what the hell is going on,” Not-Jason demanded. He turned to Jason, his eyes burning. “Who the hell are you? Why the hell do you look like that?”

“I’m pressing charges—”

“Franco, shut up!” Elizabeth finally exploded, throwing her hands up in the air, the other voices dimming. She focused on him with a glare. “How can you possibly think anyone in this room gives a damn about you right now? Of course Jason tried to kill you! The last time he saw you—” She closed her mouth, caught Not-Jason’s eyes, which held of a mixture of bewilderment, anger, and confusion that melted into stunned betrayal as they both realized what she’d said.

She’d accepted the obvious truth in front of her. As had Sonny and Carly, who were standing with Jason, apart from Sam and the other man.

“He is not Jason,” he growled. “I am—”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said softly.

“Oh, great, two of them,” Franco said with a glower. “Just what the world needs—” He gestured at Sam. “One for each of you—”

Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed, and she hissed at him. “Shut up. For just five minutes. Shut up—”

“Are you going to arrest him?” Franco demanded of Jordan, who just stared at him blandly. “He tried to kill me. There were witnesses—”

“I highly doubt,” Jordan said idly, “that anyone in that room would be willing to swear to that, Mr. Baldwin. And while I’ll need to check with the DA to be sure, I can tell you that right now, no, I don’t intend to arrest this man—” She cast her eyes over Jason. “Whoever he is.”

Franco pressed his lips together, looked at Elizabeth. “And I suppose you’re staying here?” he demanded.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, lifting her chin. “So you should go.”

“Message received.” Franco stalked from the room, and Elizabeth turned back to the others, catching Jason’s eyes. He was frowning at her, and she knew that explaining why Robert Frank was now Franco Baldwin, a legally free, living man she was dating and Carly had nearly married —

That would have to wait.

“Now that Mr. Baldwin has left,” Jordan said, leaning against her desk, folding her arms. “Perhaps our new Mr. Morgan—” she ignored Not-Jason’s growl, “might explain who the hell he is and what’s going on.”

Webber House: Living Room

Cameron stepped back from the door to let Michael and Nelle in. “Hey, have fun at the party?” he said with a wry smile.

“Uh—” Michael scratched his temple and looked over the cluster of teenagers and kids he found in front of him. “I was just going to pick up Joss and the others, but I guess you already heard that something weird is going on.”

“Oh, it gets weirder,” Joss assured her brother. She sat on the arm of the sofa. “Because one of those guys is probably Oscar’s dad who went missing in Afghanistan in July 2012.”

Michael blinked, then stared at his sister’s boyfriend, sitting next to Jake on the sofa, both of them staring at the photos of the event on Facebook. “What?”

“I thought Oscar was from California,” Nelle said, squinting in confusion.

“I don’t understand,” Jake said. “How can they have the same face? Dad grew up here. And he knows us. He knows me.” He looked at Michael. “That’s my dad. He has a new face, but he’s my dad. Isn’t he?”

Michael glanced at Nelle, who put up her hands as if to say this was all on him to fix. He turned back to his cousin. “Listen—”

“But then why would the other guy attack Franco?” Trina asked. “He seemed really angry. And we know Jason has lots of reasons to hate that creepy bastard.” She folded her arms. “This is really weird. Even for Port Charles.”

“Where’s my mommy?” Aiden asked. “Mommy will know. She always knows everything.”

“She went to the PCPD,” Michael said. “With my parents, with Sam, and, um—” He looked at Oscar. “What’s your dad’s name?”

“What?” Oscar blinked, then got to his feet. “Oh. His name is Andrew. Andrew Cain, but no one ever called him anything other than Drew.”

“This has to be him, right?” Joss said. “One of them is Jason, and the other is Drew, right?”

“I mean, it’d be weird if someone else with Jason’s face went missing at the same time, so yeah—”

“You were in the room,” Cameron said to Michael, cutting him off. He searched Michael’s eyes. “Could—I mean, we can see from pictures, but—you saw them. You heard them talk—”

“I think—” Michael hesitated. “I think that I’m leaning one way,” he admitted, “but I don’t know.”

“What about my mom?”

“He looked at me real weird,” Jake said before Michael could answer. His voice was small as he stared at the photo. “In the park. Like he was really surprised to see me.”

“Because he didn’t know you were alive,” Cameron realized. “He must have been listening to us and heard Mom call you Jake.” He folded his arms. “But—”

“It might explain why the guy living here,” Joss began, “just bought a media company. I mean, we all thought that was seriously weird. How much more evidence do we need?” She scrunched up her face. “We’re going to need another word. Weird isn’t covering it.”

“We have evidence,” Jake insisted. “Mom said there were tests. DNA tests—”

“But if they were twins,” Michael said, “those tests would match. Jake—” He passed through the others to sit next to his cousin. “Whatever the truth is, you know your dad loves you. So do your brothers. And your mom. This is going to be okay.”

“People keep saying that,” Jake said, rubbing his eyes. “But I don’t think so. Everyone thought I was crazy again, but I knew I wasn’t.” His voice faltered as he swallowed hard. “I wish I was. I don’t wanna lose my dad.”

“You won’t—” Michael put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Hey. You’re okay. That’s the most important thing. This other stuff—the adults will figure it out. There’s no point in all of us freaking out until we know for sure what’s going on.”

“Michael’s right,” Cameron said. “You know Mom will come home, and she’ll tell us everything she knows. We’ll get to the bottom of all of this.”

Trina pursed her lips as a text came over her phone. “Mom wants me to come home right now,” she said. She looked at Michael. “I’m sorry, but when Dr. Rob—”

“No, I get it.” Michael looked at Cameron. “I was gonna hang until your mom came home, but will you guys be okay?”

“Yeah.” Cameron picked up his phone. “I found an Instagram Live of Franco getting punched, so I saved it on my phone. That’ll keep us occupied until then.”

“Really?” Michael raised his brows. “Why don’t you send me that?”

“Copy me on it, too,” Joss said.

“Hey, I still like Franco—” Jake was saying as Michael ushered Joss, Trina, Oscar, and Nelle out the door, closing the door as Aiden shot back, “That’s because you lived with the Cassadines too long!”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

This wasn’t the way any of this was supposed to happen, and Jason didn’t even know where to start. He hadn’t expected to see Franco alive again, much less be allowed to walk out of the PCPD without being arrested and thrown in a jail cell—and what the hell was his relationship with Elizabeth? Why had—

He had made a mistake. He should have laid low, should have stayed at the safe house, and waited for Sonny to bring Elizabeth to him tomorrow. Instead, he was in the middle of all of this, watching Sam stand on the other side of the room, her hand resting on the arm of the man who was pretending to be him, not even looking at him.

But maybe Sonny was right. Maybe this other guy wasn’t behind all of this. He’d seen the way Elizabeth had looked at him with regret even as she’d let it slip that she’d taken a side—had seen the other man’s expression when Sonny and Carly had stood with him.

“I don’t know a lot of what’s going on,” Jason said finally. “Because starting at the beginning for me isn’t the beginning for anyone else,” he added when the commissioner narrowed her eyes. “I was at the pier. I went to meet with Bernie, but he’d been—” His mouth tightened. “He’d been shot. And then—then someone shot me. I don’t—I just—” He dipped his head. “I remember going in the water. And then I didn’t wake up until six months ago.”

Next to him, Carly gasped. “You were asleep for five years?” she demanded. “That can’t be right—”

“I don’t know,” Jason repeated, meeting her horrified eyes for a minute before focusing on the commissioner again, ignoring the others in the room. “I just know that I woke up in a room in Russia. These doctors were drugging me, and I had to figure out how to fight off the medicine. I was able to escape a few weeks ago, but it took time to get into the US without identification. When I got here—” He took a breath. “I learned that there was someone else here saying he was me—”

“I am Jason Morgan—”

“I don’t know who you are,” Jason said, his quiet but resolute voice breaking into the other man’s angry growl. “I just know who I am. I’m Jason Morgan. I woke from the accident in 1996 without any memories. They told me I was Jason Quartermaine, but that didn’t feel right. So I dropped my last name and used my middle name,” he repeated. “And for the next sixteen years, that’s who I was. I am Jason Morgan.”

The other man’s glare only turned more bitter, his nostrils flaring. “That’s impossible. I’m Jason Morgan. I remember every single moment of my life after the accident. I remember waking up. I remember my grandmother and Michael—” he looked at Carly. “I remember Michael—”

“I don’t know how this is happening,” Carly said, wincing, “but—”

“And Jake.” The other man strode towards Elizabeth, took her by the shoulders, shook her slightly. Jason tensed and started to step forward, but Sonny stopped him. “I remember the night we lost him—”

“I—” Elizabeth stared at him, then stepped back, sliding his hands from her shoulders. She looked at Jason, then back at the other man. “I know you do. But I can’t—” She cleared her throat.

“You think because he has my old face, because he sounds the way I used to—” he raged. He whirled on Sam, who had said nothing since all of this had started. “Sam, you believe me. You know you do. You said you knew I was Jason. You came to me, you said that you felt it—”

“I did—I do,” Sam said hastily. She took the man by the hands, looked away from Jason, and focused on the man who was her husband now. “I do. I still feel it,” she added. “I don’t—” She looked at Jordan. “I don’t know what’s going on—”

“Jason’s been arrested a lot,” Carly volunteered, cutting Sam off. “We never compared fingerprints because there was that weird system error that erased them, but you have to have the older files,” she said to Jordan. She looked at Jason. “When was the first time you were arrested?”

“Train surfing,” both men said in unison, then scowled at each other. “I was arrested in March 1996,” Jason said when the other man fell silent. “The PCPD wasn’t really on computers yet.”

“They’d be in storage,” Jordan said slowly. “But we could dig them out. What about blood tests?”

“I think,” Elizabeth said carefully, looking at her feet, “you’ll find that they’re identical.” She bit her lip, then looked up when all eyes were on her. “I mean, we did the DNA test back then,” she reminded them. “When Carly first told everyone about the facial reconstruction. The tests were identical. And they weren’t tampered with.”

“No,” Sonny murmured, stroking his chin. “No, we were careful. After everything else Helena had pulled—” He looked at Jason. “The DNA will match. You must be twins.”

“The story Heather fed Sam about Franco being Jason’s brother,” Carly recalled. “We thought it ended up being a lie, but maybe she only lied about the identity of the brother—”

“Then he’s the missing twin,” the other man said, desperately. “Not me. I’m Jason—” He shook his head. “No—”

“We’ll get fingerprints—” Jordan said again. “It might take a few days—”

“Not good enough. I want this resolved now,” the other man snarled. “I am not going home with anyone thinking he’s me—”

“Scars,” Sonny offered.

“Jason has scars,” Sam shot back. “Exactly where they’re supposed to be. I’ve seen them—” She looked at Elizabeth. “Tell them. You’ve seen them, too—”

“I wasn’t—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “I wasn’t really looking at the scars,” she managed, her cheeks flushing. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I mean—” She glanced at Jason, and he knew she was thinking about the scars she’d taken care of both times he’d been shot and stayed in her studio. On his chest, and his thigh.

“I think we can save the strip search,” Jordan said dryly. “We’ll run a DNA test on Monday at the hospital, take the fingerprints to get comparisons, and pull the old ones from the files.” She folded her arms. “I’m sorry, Mr. Morgan—both Mr. Morgans,” she added, “but that’s really all the PCPD can offer you tonight. It’s Friday, and I’m not doing overtime for something that can wait.”

“This isn’t over—” the other man growled, then stalked out of the office. Sam looked at Jason for a long moment, but he could see nothing in her eyes that gave him any hope that she believed any differently than she’d said in here. Then she walked out.

“She’s insane,” Carly snapped. “I always knew she was an idiot, but to think—” She looked at Jason, her eyes filled with tears. “Jason—I knew it was you. The minute I saw you.”

“Carly,” Elizabeth said softly, drawing the other woman’s eyes. “Cameron just texted me. He and the others—they saw the party on social media. They know. All of them.”

Carly winced. “Michael went to pick Joss up.” She dragged out her phone, then saw she had several 911s from Joss and Michael. “She says Jake is freaking out.”

“I need to get home,” Elizabeth said, “and try to explain this to Jake.”

“I—I saw Jake at the park,” Jason told her.  “I’m sorry. I think he saw me—”

“He did. We’ll—” Elizabeth pressed her hand to her chest. “We’ll talk about it. There’s—” She glanced at Jordan, who wasn’t even pretending not to listen to the conversation. “There’s a lot.”

“If you keep Jason from Jake this time,” Carly began, but Sonny tugged on her arm, and she stopped talking.

“He’s alive,” Elizabeth said to Jason. “And he’s perfect. He’s—” She smiled at him. “He’s going to love you.”

“You believe me,” Jason said. He exhaled slowly. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed that. He wasn’t surprised by Carly, not after Sonny had made his position clear. She’d followed his lead. But once Sam had stayed with the other man — Jason had known that not everyone would believe him, but he’d never thought Sam wouldn’t know him when they came face to face.

But Elizabeth did.

“Of course I do,” Elizabeth said. “Sam—” She sighed. “She’ll come around. She always does,” she added with a mutter.

“We should go,” Sonny said, pushing gently on Carly. They left the commissioner’s office, to Jordan’s disappointment. Once they were outside the PCPD, he told Carly, “Let’s get the kids and figure out what’s next.” He focused on Elizabeth. “Elizabeth—we still should talk tomorrow.”

“Is this—” She looked at Jason. “This is what you wanted to run past me?”

“I think the Cassadines are up to their old bullshit,” Sonny said. “Jason—come back with us tonight. We’ll figure it all out tomorrow.”

“Come home—” Carly began, reaching for his sleeve.

“In a minute,” Jason told them. “I’ll meet you at the car.”

“But—” Carly began, but Sonny dragged her away, the blonde still pouting. Elizabeth stared after them, a faint smile on her lips.

“Elizabeth,” Jason began, and she closed her eyes, taking a sharp breath. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing. Nothing.” Elizabeth opened her eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek. “You just—no one says my name like you do, and I didn’t—” She bit her lip. “I’m so glad it’s you. And that you’re home. That Jake gets to have you.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I got a miracle with him. I’m so glad you get to share it.”

“He’s beautiful,” Jason said, taking a step towards her. “I listened to them in the park. To all of you. He’s so happy. It’s what I wanted for him.” He wanted to ask her about Franco, but this wasn’t the time. “You should get home to them. They’re probably worried.”

“Yeah, he’s been through a lot. But it’s going to be okay. God, for the first time in years, I think I actually believe that.” She nodded towards the limo parked at the curb where Carly was standing, her arms folded, her foot tapping. “Now, go back to Greystone before Carly tackles you and drags you away.”

Webber Home: Living Room

The beautiful thing about social media, Cameron reflected, restarting the video for the fifth—possibly eighth time—was that someone always had a camera. The original Facebook Live had just given them the tail end of the fight—

But someone on Instagram—some fantastic, perfect person—had been filming something else and swung towards the doors when they first heard the shouts, and this person knew how to use the zoom button.

Cameron wanted to watch Franco Baldwin get choked up close every day for the rest of his life. The guy with Jason’s face had shoved the asshole through the double doors so hard that Franco had skidded across the ballroom, and you could see the panic and fear in his expression as he tried to get up—

And then the new Jason had launched himself at him—choking him with one hand and punching him with the other—

It was glorious, and everything Cameron Hardy Webber wanted in this world.

“I really love it,” Aiden sighed.

“I didn’t know you guys hated him this much,” Jake admitted, but even he leaned in. “How come?”

“He’s mean to Mom,” Aiden said. “Like Charlotte is, you know? Like he says things, then smiles like it’s a joke. But it’s not a joke.”

“Oh.” Jake furrowed his brow, looked at Cameron. “Does he?”

“Yeah, he does.”

And because Cameron’s word was good as gold as far as Jake was concerned, his middle brother nodded. “Okay, then we don’t like him. Play it again. Can you slow it down?”

“Can we put it on the computer and play with it? Like—put it on a loop?” Aiden asked eagerly.

“I’ll ask Spinelli,” Cameron murmured. “But I bet someone already made it a gif—” He snorted as Franco tried to crawl away from the new Jason, and new Jason just grabbed Franco by the back of the neck and dragged him back. “I like this guy.” He winced. “Sorry, Jake.”

“It’s okay—I mean, we don’t know anything yet.” But Jake looked troubled, and Cameron reminded himself to keep his newfound feelings of hero worship to himself. Plus, if this guy was Jason Morgan—that complicated a whole lot of other things Cameron didn’t want to deal with just yet.

Aiden giggled as Franco’s yelp of pain came clear across the iPad screen. “That’s the best part! I like when he cries! Play it again!”

“We should see if there are any other videos of Franco getting his face beat in,” Cameron said, minimizing the video and returning to Instagram to check for other feeds—but then he realized the room felt a bit cold. He looked over from their position on the sofa—he was sitting in the center, Jake hanging on one side, and Aiden cuddled up close to him, giggling.

The giggling stopped as Aiden saw what Cameron was looking at. His face fell, and Jake slowly sat back, his blue eyes wary and a bit scared.

They hadn’t even heard the door open.

Franco was standing in the entrance, one hand on the door and the other in the pocket of his jacket. One of his eyes was swollen shut, but the look in the other eye was unmistakable hatred.

“Go ahead,” Franco said quietly. He closed the door and started forward. “Play it again.”

Pier 52

Valentin finally caught up with Klein just as the little weasel was trying to slide down another alley. To get away from him. He grabbed him by his neck and shoved him against the wall.

“When we spoke earlier,” he began almost conversationally, “and I learned you’d been lying to me for months about Patient Six, I told you to get to town as soon as possible.” He tightened his grasp around Klein’s neck, leaving the doctor just enough space in his windpipe to breathe. “You neglected to mention you were already in Port Charles.”

“I was trying—” Klein dug at Valentin’s hands. “I was trying to get Six back before—”

“You failed,” Valentin said pleasantly. “You’re fortunate, however, that Patient Six isn’t the only project on which we were collaborating.” He released Klein and the man fell to the ground with a thud. “Get back to St. Petersburg,” he said flatly. “Get me those files. Find the lab that my mother was hiding from me and whatever else she neglected to tell me. Or I’ll slit your throat in your sleep.”

Klein scrambled to his feet and disappeared down the alley. Valentin glared after him, wishing like hell he didn’t need the bastard, but alas — he’d made a tragic mistake when he’d killed his mother. He should have known that Helena’s backup plan would include planning for Valentin’s downfall.

“Mother always did have trust issues,” he murmured.

Webber Home: Living Room

Cameron stood up and put himself between Franco and his brothers, still clutching the iPad tightly. He could use it as a weapon if he needed to. “Mom said you weren’t coming back tonight.”

“Yeah, well, your mom is a liar. You should know that by now,” Franco said.

“Shut up!” Jake roared, lunging to his feet.  He would have launched himself at the older man, but Cameron blocked him, his heart pounding fast.

“You shouldn’t be here right now,” Cameron said. “Not without Mom.”

“This is my house—”

“It’s not,” Cameron said slowly, “but you know that already. Look, we weren’t doing anything wrong, and you’re not supposed to be here. So just go to the studio, okay?”

“Give me the iPad,” Franco said. He stepped towards them.

“Jake, Aiden, go upstairs—”

“No.” Jake shook his head, his voice wavering. “Not leaving you alone.”

“Give me the iPad,” Franco repeated, his voice louder. “Now.”

“No. Get out.”

“You know the problem with you little brats?” Franco demanded. “Your mom has been so busy looking for the next father to drag through this door that she’s never taught you any damn manners. Give me the goddamn iPad!”

Cameron didn’t know why he refused or why Franco was pushing so hard, but something inside him told him that if Franco had the iPad—if he saw the video they’d been laughing at—

Everything would be worse.

He had to find a way to make him leave, but how did you reason with a serial killer?

“Mom will be home—”

“Your mother is chasing after the next contestant in the Jason Morgan circus,” Franco snarled. “So it’ll be up to me to knock some sense into you—”

And, then, like a flash of lightning, Franco had closed the distance between them, lunging at Cameron and the iPad. Aiden screamed, and Jake had to shove himself aside when Cameron grunted and pushed Franco back.

The psycho had a grip on the iPad, and the two of them yanked back and forth—Cameron determined to keep it out of his hands. No way in hell could he watch that video—not when his brothers weren’t safe—

“Give it to me, you little piece of—” Then Franco let go of it with one hand abruptly, fisting his hand in Cameron’s shirt, dragging the teen closer to his face. “Give it to me now,” he hissed. “Or you might not live to regret it—”

Cameron’s eyes bulged, and his heart was pounding so fast—he could hear his brothers screaming and crying and pleading in the background—and he didn’t know what to do—how to fix it—he didn’t know how to make it stop—

And then it did.

With a flat, angry growl that he’d never heard from his mother before—

“Get your hands off my son, or I will kill you!”

Franco hissed and turned, Cameron managing to focus on the petite woman with a furious expression and a baseball bat gripped in her hands—the bat she’d kept in the umbrella stand for years—

“Let him go,” Elizabeth said, her eyes stony. “Now.”

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