Which mask will you wear today
How about the one with the pretty smile
To you it’s just another day
In a life you haven’t lived in quite awhile
Everybody knows your name
But they don’t know who you are
But to them it’s just a game
And I think it’s gone too far
– Just Another Name, Lifehouse

---

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

 Two weeks later, Elizabeth found herself again looking at the black crepe memorial to Regina Johnson that was still up. Every time she walked past it, she couldn’t help but think about those long, terrifying weeks they’d been locked in General Hospital. They’d been unable to leave, unable to see their own families, risking their lives to save others.

Elizabeth’s life hadn’t been the same since the virus had hit. Her husband had survived, but he might never be the same. A fact that haunted her every day she woke up and saw he was still in pain, still not able to walk and move freely.

“Hey.”

Elizabeth blinked as Nadine joined her in the nurse’s station, a stack of medical charts in her arms. She raised her brows at Elizabeth. “You okay? You looked a bit distracted.”

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Do you need help with those charts?”

“Oh, what, you want to help me before you abandon us for the glamorous world of surgery?” Nadine rolled her eyes. “I mean, I don’t know why you think it’s cool to leave us like this—”

“I’ll miss the patients,” Elizabeth admitted. She liked working with kids, feeling connected to them, and taking care of them until they were released. Working as a surgical nurse meant she’d lose some of that connection, but… “I can’t turn down the hours. I’ll be able to tuck Cameron in nearly every night—”

“I know, I know. But it doesn’t mean I can’t complain—” Nadine’s voice dropped out as they heard the creak of the janitor’s cart.

Manny smiled at them as he wheeled his cart past them down another hall. When he’d disappeared, Nadine exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to her chest.

“How is he still a thing, I ask you?” she grumbled.

“I know,” Elizabeth murmured. “He’s hurt so many people.” She’d hoped that Manny would be gone by now. Jason’s men were working at GH now, and she saw the one that hung out on the Pediatrics floor every so often. She felt mildly safer, but it didn’t change the fact that it felt like they had a ticking bomb stalking their halls.

The last two weeks hadn’t reassured her that the surgery had cured Manny of his violent tendencies, only that they were all living on borrowed time.

Waiting for Manny to make his move.

“You know, you’d think living in a town full of mobsters, they’d be able to take care of one crazy ass psycho,” Nadine complained, then she winced, looking at Elizabeth. “Oh. Yeah. Right. Shouldn’t say that to a cop’s wife.”

“Hey, this cop’s wife watched a violent psycho get turned loose by the system because a tumor made him do it.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “The system doesn’t solve all our problems.”

She accepted a stack of envelopes from a courier with a sigh, then sorted the test results and memos. She stopped when she saw Patrick’s name on one of the envelopes with a patient number she recognized. Elizabeth ran her fingers over it, remembering the favor Jason had asked of her.

“Hey, Nadine, do you mind covering for me? I have to go make a call.”

“Sure. You okay?”

“Yeah, just have to call a patient about some test results.” She pocketed the envelope and headed for the locker room.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Paulie, I’ll have…I’m not saying no, okay? I just have to think about it.”

Sam McCall sighed and set the phone back onto the receiver before checking off a name on the list she’d scrawled using a legal pad she’d found stashed in his desk. It had been a while since she’d stretched her research muscles. She’d forgotten how much fun it was to put together a profile on a mark — even if she was treating herself like the mark.

Jason hadn’t been happy when Sam made it clear she wasn’t going to leave her past alone. Or maybe he hadn’t been all that happy that she was planning to contact a lot of her father’s buddies from past jobs. Sam knew Jason accepted her past as a con artist, but she definitely knew he wouldn’t be happy if that past became the present.

The man in question emerged from the kitchen where he’d been doing dishes. She wrinkled her nose — she would never understand the domestic side of him. When you had as much money as Jason Morgan, you should never have to lift a finger.

“Any luck?” Jason asked as he leaned against the arm of the sofa, his head tilted to the side.

“No one knows why Cody McCall decided to adopt a baby girl all by himself twenty-six years ago,” Sam offered with a sigh. “But the general consensus is that he needed a cover for something he was pulling and kids…are good. Dad liked to target single women, and they’re suckers for a guy with a baby.”

Jason frowned at that. “Target them how?”

“Clean out bank accounts, use them for a place to stay.” Sam got to her feet, shrugging. “Could be anything. Sometimes, if the mark was good, he’d stay a year. Go to work at the company she owned — he loved powerful women.” She didn’t realize she was grinning as she spoke—

But Jason did. He grimaced, then shook his head, and listened as Sam continued to describe her childhood with Cody McCall and the games he’d run.

“You know, the women of the eighties loved to prove they didn’t need a man or a kid—they never saw Dad coming. He was pretty good at it for a long time, and Mom didn’t care as long as the checks kept coming.” Sam shrugged. “She wasn’t much of a mother, you already know that. But those were the good years. Dad was pretty disappointed when Danny…”

The smile faded from her face. “Danny couldn’t go out on the road,” she said finally. “So he took me instead.”

She looked over to find him studying her, squinting the way someone might look at an insect. “Don’t make that face. I had a good childhood, okay? My father…he mostly loved me. And Mom didn’t care much as long as I wasn’t around. Makes sense now that I know she wasn’t my biological mother.”

“I guess I just….” Jason shrugged, straightened. “I guess I thought you were happy to have that behind you.”

“I am,” Sam insisted. She mostly was, anyway. Sometimes she missed the rush, but— “It has its perks, but it’s stressful, okay? And technology made some of the old games harder.” She bit her lip. “But…the last guy I talked to? He used to run real estate scams with my dad after I left him. And…”

“And what?” Jason pressed when Sam didn’t continue speaking.

“He said he has a spot open. A short gig, really.” She shrugged. “Maybe two days. Posing as a client to make the mark more comfortable.”

“And he wants…you?” Jason lifted his brows. She tensed at the way his tone changed.

“Yeah, this kind of stuff used to be my bread and butter when I was setting up the longer cons,” Sam told him. She tossed her hair back and lifted her chin, nearly defiant now. “It’s not easy to research a rich guy and figure out how to take him for everything he has. I had to pay the bills between gigs.”

He exhaled slowly. “You just said that you were happy to be done with it—”

“This is different. Paulie’s an old friend, and he’s in a pinch.” Sam chewed her lip. “It wouldn’t be for another week. Maybe two. He’s still putting some things together, but his usual girl can’t make it. And he might remember more about my Dad if I do this for him.”

“You…” Jason shook his head. “Sam, what about…” He gestured around them. “Figuring out who arranged your adoption? You said you were done with this.”

“I am. It’s just a one-time thing.” Sam planted her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. “What are you getting so pissy about, anyway? You walk out that door and commit worse crimes than I ever did. What, you get to be the criminal, and I have to stay here like Suzy homemaker?”

“No, but—” Jason pressed his lips together. “I’m just surprised you want to go back, even temporarily. I know you’re going through a lot—”

“Going through a lot—” Sam rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. My brother—the last piece of family I had in this world—died. I found out my entire life was a lie because I’m apparently a piece of trash some girl dropped on the black market. She wanted me to disappear so much that someone set fire to any trail I might have used to find her. None of that has anything to do with wanting to do a favor for an old friend, Jason.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither really willing to back down. Jason hadn’t actually forbidden her from doing the job. He hadn’t really said anything at all that suggested he didn’t want her to do it—but Sam knew how to read him. He was pissed that she was thinking of dipping her toe back in the water and couldn’t figure out how to make her stop.

“This is something I’m good at,” Sam continued. “You know I haven’t been in the game since I came to Port Charles.” Not really anyway. Not since Sonny. Mostly.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Maybe those first few weeks she’d stayed with Jason, she’d played him a bit. But it wasn’t the same. That had been about survival. “I can make some quick cash, have something to do, and get my mind off all the crap I’m going through, okay?”

“Sam, listen—” Jason hesitated, then grimaced as his phone rang. He dug it out of his back pocket and answered. “Yeah? Oh.” He looked at Sam, and his face went blank. “Yeah, okay. No, no, I’ll come to you. I’ll be there in ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”

He closed his phone. “I’m sorry. Something came up. I need to go take care of this.”

She didn’t bother to ask him what was up — he wouldn’t answer her anyway. “Fine.”

He brushed a kiss on her cheek, then left. Sam scowled after him — what right did he have to make her feel guilty about doing the one thing she was good at? She’d been one of the best cons in the business and would probably have been able to retire to some sort of private island if she hadn’t given it up for him.

Not that he’d ever asked her to, but man, it was so fucking typical of a guy to have a double standard. He could go on a crime spree, but the minute Sam wanted to pull her own job, he got all pissy about it.

“Men,” she muttered before calling Paulie back. She’d do the job. It’d be a cold day in hell before Sam McCall was pushed around by some guy—even if she’d promised to marry him.

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

When the elevator doors buzzed open on their floor, Elizabeth glanced up and frowned when she saw her husband stepping off. Lucky Spencer winced as he leaned on the cane he’d been forced to use after being released from the hospital two weeks earlier.

He’d injured his back twice in the last six months—the first after the train accident caused by Manny Ruiz. Lucky had fought his way back to full health and active duty, only to be stricken with the encephalitis virus that nearly killed him. He’d passed out while driving, and the resulting car crash had re-injured his back.

He was back on disability and partial desk duty at the PCPD, and Elizabeth was hoping that his appointment with Patrick Drake would bring good news. Lucky was not a good patient, having spent way too much of the last year in General Hospital. He was impatient and short-tempered on his best day.

“Hey. You’re not done with your appointment already, are you?”

“No, I just…” Lucky grimaced as he stepped up to the station. “I just wanted to make sure you were still getting off work at six. I can’t pick Cameron up at daycare, but he can stay there until you’re done, right?”

Elizabeth hesitated, frowned. “Yeah, but they’re going to charge me for the overtime—what’s wrong? Do they need you at work or something?”

“They never need me at work,” Lucky said flatly. He seemed to hear the irritation and snap in his voice and sighed. “Sorry, it’s just…I’m tired. And my back hurts. There’s not a lot of call for a crippled cop right now.”

“But you’ll be back on your feet in no time,” Elizabeth said with a bright smile. “You’ll have your physical with Patrick, he’ll get your return date sorted and…all of this will just…” With a confidence she really didn’t feel, she finished, “it’ll just be a bad memory soon.”

“Yeah, I hope so. Anyway, can Cameron stay until six? I was able to get a therapy session scheduled after my appointment, and every bit helps.”

She didn’t want to argue with him about it, even though staying late meant Elizabeth would have to find an extra hundred dollars at the end of the week. “Yeah, um, sure. That’ll be fine. I’d ask Gram, but she’s got dinner tonight with some old friends.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you at home.” He brushed a kiss against her cheek. “I’d better head down to Patrick’s office.”

The universe was on her side—no sooner had one set of elevator doors closed on her husband’s face than the second set of doors opened on another face — one that Lucky would not have been thrilled to see.

Jason strode towards the nurse’s station. “Hey. I came as soon as I could. You said the test results were in?”

“Yeah.” She reached under the counter to retrieve the envelope and held it out to him. He didn’t take them. She tipped her head. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess…”

Jason shifted, seemingly restless on his feet, and her concern grew. Elizabeth couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Jason nervous. She hadn’t let herself wonder too much about the test he’d asked to run, but now she wondered exactly what kind of trouble he was in, and how a DNA test played into it.

She looked at her co-worker. “Nadine, I’m just about done here. Can you do these last two charts, and I’ll owe you forever?”

Nadine rolled her eyes but accepted the folders Elizabeth handed her. “Oh, sure, make more work for me when you’re abandoning me.” She smirked at Jason. “Lucky you found her here at all since she’s about to leave us forever.”

Jason furrowed his brow. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, stop.” To Jason, Elizabeth said, “Nadine is just being dramatic. This is my last shift working this floor.” She stepped down from the station, the results in her hand. “Come on, we’ll go find a conference room or something.”

Before she could take him away, Manny shuffled past them, slowly wheeling his cart. He offered them a smile before stepping onto the elevators.

When the door had closed, Jason turned back to her. “It’s been a few weeks since my guys started. How is it going?”

Elizabeth grimaced. “Okay, I guess. He’s still creepy, and I still feel like he’s around too much, but I feel better knowing someone is watching him.”

“Yeah, well, remember you promised not to help,” Jason said. “If you see something—”

“Call you and do nothing, yeah, yeah.” She sighed. “Come on. You probably want to see the results.”

“So, you’re moving floors?” Jason asked as she led him down a hallway and into an empty room with a conference table. Elizabeth switched on the lights.

“Yeah, I’m moving up to surgery tomorrow. Patrick and Monica are going to help me get the hours I need to certify as a surgical nurse.” Elizabeth shrugged but couldn’t fight her smile. “It was Bobbie’s idea, after the quarantine, I mean. She said Alan was impressed with—anyway.” She took a deep breath, held out the envelope. “Here you go.”

“Yeah.” Jason took the envelope, stared at it. “Uh, that’s great. I mean, is it a promotion?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “I guess, sort of. I get better hours. Same pay, but I’ll be able to put Cameron down most nights—” She pursed her lips. “Jason, you don’t have to tell me anything, but…it’s almost as if you’re procrastinating. I’ve never known you to do that.”

“Yeah. I know.” And still…he didn’t open them. “You said Patrick wasn’t going to ask questions?”

“He said as long as it wasn’t illegal, he was happy to do me a favor. I’m not asking questions, either, Jason, but…” She nodded at it. “I could open it if you want. There are no names—”

“No, I’m being—” He shook his head and ripped the envelope open. He pulled out the thin white piece of paper and unfolded it. As his eyes scanned the results, his shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes. “Damn it.”

“I guess it wasn’t the news you wanted?” Elizabeth asked. “Sorry.” She shook her head. “I promised not to ask questions—”

“No, it’s—” Jason dragged out a chair and sat down, looking more exhausted than he’d ever looked before—except maybe the time he’d been recovering from a bullet wound. He stared at the envelope and said nothing.

She waited. She knew he wasn’t the type to really open up—he never had been. Even when they’d objectively been friends, he’d always closed off what he was really thinking. She remembered back when he’d been shot and hiding in her studio—she hadn’t known until Carly turned up pregnant by Sonny why Jason had been angry with them.

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, nodded. Some things would never change. “Well, you have the results. I should get back to work—” She turned, put her hand on the doorknob.

“It’s a maternity test.”

He said the words so quietly she nearly missed them. Elizabeth turned back to look at him, but he was still staring at the paper in his hands.

“Oh.” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, shook her head. “Okay. I thought—” When Jason had wanted a DNA test, she’d hadn’t really known what to think. But he’d asked her for a favor, and she’d been curious enough—and secretly pleased he still trusted her enough to ask for something like this—to agree without asking questions.

“Yeah, I know. You thought it was a paternity test.” He set the paper on the table. He fell silent again. Then— “I don’t know what to do.”

Elizabeth raised her brows, a bit stunned. It was so rare that Jason admitted anything to her, much less—

She should tell him to call Emily. To go talk to Carly. Or Sonny. Or Sam. Someone who mattered to him. Who he trusted.

Who he’d let into his life instead of pushed away.

But she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. “You know—whatever you tell me—it won’t leave this room. You can trust me.”

He looked up, then met her eyes. “I know that. That’s why I asked you to—” Jason exhaled slowly. “But this isn’t my secret.”

“If it’s a maternity test,” Elizabeth said slowly, drawing out the words, “then it’s probably for Carly or Sam. You should talk to them, Jason.”

“She doesn’t know—” Jason grimaced, looked away. “She doesn’t know I did this. That I ran the test. I didn’t think—” He pressed his lips together, looked back at the results. “I don’t know. I think maybe I was expecting them to come back negative. And then it would just be something I’d thought. I didn’t—I didn’t expect it to be true.”

“Ah.” Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “So now it’s your secret, too, but you don’t want it to be.” She got to her feet. “Well, you know how to keep secrets, Jason. That’s something you’re good at it.”

Some things would never change.

“If Sam knew this,” Jason said, hesitantly, stopping her again as she started to leave. “If Sam knew this, it would be bad.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Look, Jason, clearly you’re struggling with this. You did something behind Sam’s back, and now you know something she doesn’t. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine. But—”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said. He shook his head. “You’re right. I just—I shouldn’t have done this,” he realized. “But now I have. And I don’t know what to do.”

“You tell her,” Elizabeth said flatly.

“I can’t—”

“Why?” she demanded, feeling more irritated than she had any right to. It was always the same damn conversation with Jason. “If it’s not about business, then what’s the big deal?”

Jason hesitated and looked at her. “After Danny died…Sam found out she was adopted.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth repeated. She sat back down. “That was probably rough.”

“Yeah, it—” Jason leaned back, staring at the paper. “She’s—she’s not taking it well. Danny was the only family she had left. And she had no idea. They never said anything.”

“I’m sorry—”

“We managed to track her adoption down to Maine and—” Jason cleared his throat. “Well, we got the rest of the information, but it was a fake identity. Sam was born in a clinic that shut down shortly afterward and adopted through an agency that only ever existed on paper. Her original birth certificate, uh, listed a woman named Natasha Davis as her mother.”

“Natasha Davis.” Elizabeth blinked. “Something about that…I don’t know. It sounds familiar.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. And then I remembered Alexis—”

“Davis,” Elizabeth murmured. “She was born—”

“Natasha Cassadine. And would have been sixteen the year Sam was born.”

General Hospital: Patrick Drake’s Office

“Have a seat.”

Lucky Spencer grimaced as the tall, dark-haired doctor gestured at the seat in front of his desk. “Do I have to? Can’t we just get this over with?”

“No,” Patrick Drake told him as he took his own seat. When Lucky had reluctantly lowered himself into the chair, Patrick opened Lucky’s file. “I’m sorry it’s taken a little bit of time to get this appointment in. I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Tony had a lot of patients.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, how many of them have you kept from going back to work?” Lucky snapped. He leaned back in the chair, folding his arms. He ignored the sharp pain in his back. “Just confirm what Tony said — I can go back to work next week—”

“Tony wasn’t able to conduct a full exam before he fell ill,” Patrick interrupted. “I have. I’ve seen the MRI and X-rays. I performed the initial surgery when you were brought in after the car accident—”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Lucky complained. “I just…I didn’t know I was sick—I just ran into the telephone pole—”

“At fifty miles an hour,” Patrick said dryly. “Look, I get it. You want to get back on active duty. I know you’ve been in physical therapy and on the desk since the train crash. But the fact is, Lucky, you aggravated your injury in the car accident.”

He’d known this was coming. Considering his back hurt as much today as it had the day Lucky had been discharged the first time back in December, he wasn’t too surprised. “So, fine. I can’t go back next week. When?”

“I don’t know. It took three months to recuperate last time.” Patrick tapped his pencil against the file. “I’m not comfortable giving you an exact date, but I understand for insurance purposes, you need it—”

“If I’m out on disability much longer, I might not be able to get back,” Lucky growled. “It’s already been three months, Drake. What? You telling me it’s another three?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. We’re not going to know that, Lucky, until we come up with a plan of action. You might need another surgery. I’m concerned that the disc you ruptured isn’t fully healed, and the MRI is backing me up.”

“I’m not having another surgery—” Lucky shifted with a grimace. “I’m almost at my lifetime cap on my insurance, okay? I was in the hospital last year, even before the first accident.”

Patrick exhaled slowly. “Ah, I thought that might be it. Look, we’ll try to avoid surgery. If I don’t see some good results in the next MRI or if you can’t get a decent range of motion in your next battery of physical tests, you might never get back on active duty.”

“Fine. Fine. So what? More therapy? More pills? I’m almost out of my last prescription, the one you wrote when I got released. And I don’t have any refills left.”

“No refills—Are you kidding—” Patrick swallowed hard. “Okay, if you’re almost out of the original and the refill I prescribed, then we need to talk about pain management. You’ve been on the steady dosage of oxycontin since November. That’s a long time—”

“What’s your point?” Lucky snapped. His fingers tightened around the grip of the chair. “You calling me a drug addict?”

“No.” Patrick’s voice was clipped. “I’m saying that if it’s not helping you manage the pain, we’ll need to look into other things. I’m not going to refill the prescription, Lucky. Four months of oxycontin is enough—”

“I got re-injured, didn’t I?”

“I know. Which is why I wrote you a prescription that should have lasted six weeks. Not three. I’m not writing you another one. Not for at least three more weeks. I can refer you to the pain management clinic—”

“Fuck that.” Lucky hurled himself out of the chair. “I’m a goddamn cop. I was injured in the line of duty, and you’re treating me like some scumbag druggie—” He shook his head. “I want another doctor.”

“I’m the only neurosurgeon at the hospital,” Patrick snapped. “I took over Tony’s neurology patients because the hospital is short-staffed. I’m the best in the state—”

“Tony Jones was—”

“Fifteen years ago, yeah. Maybe even ten years ago. But no doctor in their right mind is going to write you another prescription for opiates, Spencer.” Patrick got to his feet. “You can either take the referral to the pain management clinic or get by on aspirin.”

He held out the piece of paper. “I know you’re in pain, but the oxy isn’t going to help you. You’ve developed a tolerance—”

“I’m a drug addict, you mean. Just say it, Drake—”

“It’s common to develop a tolerance,” Patrick continued as if Lucky hadn’t spoken. “Either I raise the dosage or take you off it—”

“Can’t you write me a script for a different drug then? I’m in pain—”

Patrick just held out the referral. With a scowl, Lucky finally snatched it from him. “Go to the clinic. Keep working your therapy schedule. We’ll meet back here next week and see how you’re feeling.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot.”

Lucky stalked out of the room and headed for the elevators.

General Hospital: Conference Room

“Oh. Oh, God,” Elizabeth said as the horror of it set in. “Sam hates Alexis. Are you—are you telling me—” She took a deep breath. “You recognized the possibility, but you didn’t tell her.”

He shifted. “I didn’t want to worry or upset her. She’s been—losing Danny messed her up. She blames Alexis for his death. For her daughter’s death—for Manny Ruiz being on the loose—I just—I wanted to protect her. If it came back false, then—”

“But it didn’t. I feel so bad for her. I mean, I know Alexis is great, but I understand where Sam is coming from.” She hesitated. “Jason, you have to tell her.”

“I know.” But he didn’t look convinced.

“That’s not—this isn’t like you, Jason. It was one thing to run the test behind her back—” Elizabeth arched a brow at him. “It was a stupid thing, but fine. I could maybe get that. But now you know.”

“Elizabeth—”

“What happens if she comes across this information later, another way?” Elizabeth asked. “This kind of thing always comes out. You know that.”

“I don’t know.”

“Will you tell her you already know? Will you lie, pretend you had no idea—”

“No—” Jason pressed his lips together and nodded. “No, I wouldn’t, but—”

Elizabeth gestured at the paper. “If you’d told me before I did this, I wouldn’t have run the test. I get—I get you’re trying to protect her. But Jason…” She tilted her head. “If you don’t tell her the truth now about something like this—something that matters to her—”

She fell silent, cleared her throat, and got to her feet. “It’s none of my business. I need to get back to work.”

Jason also rose, touched her elbow as she turned to leave. “No. Finish what you were going to say.”

“You’re already lying to her. You know something that matters to her—you thought you knew something and didn’t tell her. Now you actually know it. You think she’s not going to see you’re keeping a secret and wonder what it is?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I know you’re legendary for your stone face—”

Jason scowled, but she continued. “But you’re not a very good liar. I could always tell when you were lying to me.”

“You—” He blinked, swallowed hard. “What? When did I lie to you—I never—” Obviously remembering a moment too late, he snapped his mouth shut. “Right.”

Wishing she hadn’t brought it up, Elizabeth folded her arms, looked away. “When you were lying about Sonny. I didn’t know about what, but I knew you were lying. And…the other stuff that was going on—And you weren’t telling me. It hurt, Jason. And if Sam knows you at all, it’s going to hurt her—”

“I’m—” Jason started, but she shook her head.

“I don’t want to talk about it. We’re not talking about it,” she repeated when he opened his mouth as if to argue. “I’m just telling you I don’t recommend lying about something like this.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” Jason picked up the results, folded it, and put it inside his pocket. “Listen…I wish I had made different choices back then, Elizabeth. Been more honest. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, we both ended up where we’re supposed to be, I guess. I need to get back to work. And you need to go home and talk to Sam.”

“Thanks for doing this, Elizabeth. I knew I could trust you.”

“Always,” she said with a smile, profoundly relieved they’d tiptoed around their past and managed to dance right over it. She opened the conference door. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to the elevator. I wanted to ask you something about Emily anyway.”

“Is she ignoring a lot of your calls, too?” Jason asked as they left the room.

General Hospital: Pediatrics Floor

 Lucky stepped out of the elevator and scowled when he saw that the nurse’s station was empty. Where the hell had Elizabeth gone? He wandered down one of the halls, hoping to find her coming out of a patient’s room, but no such luck. Maybe he could page his aunt or something back at the nurse’s station.

Just as he rounded the corner to return to the hub, he saw his wife walk out of a room with Jason Morgan. Elizabeth was smiling at the damn thug as she walked him to the elevator.

Didn’t she know how much pressure he was under at work? What the hell was she thinking smiling and talking to a fucking criminal?

He reached into his pocket and drew out the pills. He still had about twenty left. He could make that last for a week. If he wanted to. And then by next week, if he worked hard enough, he’d have kicked the pain and not need them at all.

He didn’t even need one now, but he wanted to spite that damn doctor. He didn’t need them. He just didn’t think he should have to walk down to the parking garage with his back hurting like this.

He was a fucking cop, and he deserved better than this bullshit. He cracked open the bottle and tossed two pills back. Just to take the edge off so he could get home.

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