Oh, dear, you look so lost
Your eyes are red when tears are shed
The world you must have crossed, you said
You don’t know me, you don’t even care
Oh yeah, you said
You don’t know me, and you don’t wear my chains
Oh yeah
– Boston, Augustana

---

Wednesday, December 3, 2003

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason drew his brows together in concern when he saw Elizabeth pull out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. “You’re not going out today?”

She blinked at him, then shook her head. “No. I just feel like staying in. It’s getting colder, and I’m—” Elizabeth pulled her hair from beneath the collar of the shirt. “I’m feeling a bit tired.”

Jason hesitated, his boots in his hand. “I can stay home if you want—”

“No, no.” Elizabeth smiled at him, but it was a thin one that barely lifted the corners of her mouth. “I think I just want to lay on the sofa, watch some daytime TV, and relax. I’ve been so busy, you know—and with the holidays coming up—” She shrugged, sitting down on the bed to pull on a thick pair of wool socks.

It seemed plausible to him, and Jason should have been relieved to see Elizabeth taking a minute, resting, and not going a hundred miles an hour. But he knew her better than that—he knew she wasn’t okay.

She had been shaken by the transcript Taggert had shown them—and still, nearly twenty-four hours later, refused to talk about it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Elizabeth said. She looked up at him, scowling. “I’m fine, Jason. I just want a little time to myself—”

“Okay,” he said, putting a hand up. “I’m sorry. I can’t help if I’m worried.” He kissed her forehead, lingering. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She grabbed his t-shirt with her fist to hold him in place. “I’ll see you when you come home.”

“I’ll call you to pick up something for dinner.” He kissed her again, then left—looking over his shoulder one more time, still not sure he should be leaving her alone.

Kelly’s: Diner

Kelsey slowly set the transcript down on the table, then shoved it across the table. “Christ. They’re going to play that at the hearing? It’s going to be in the media?”

“Yeah.” Lucky picked it up, stared at the words again. “Taggert showed copies to Elizabeth and Brooke’s parents yesterday. He said it went as well as it could be expected.” He hesitated. “Mac is letting me go down to Syracuse. All three of us, actually.”

“Really? That’s basically the entire squad, except for Beaudry.” Kelsey wrinkled her nose. “But I guess if Elizabeth is supposed to be testifying about the good guys, it’ll help to have you and Cruz in the audience. And Taggert and Mac have to go in case the other side calls them.” Her mouth twisted. “I can’t believe he might get away with this—”

“He’s not going to—”

“No, he shouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean he won’t. You know the system, Lucky. You know how it can eat people up—destroy them—” Kelsey leaned back in her chair. “He nearly killed me, and he’s going to go argue to a federal court that the department framed him—it’s bullshit, but it’s dumb enough to work.”

“Hey. We haven’t really—we haven’t talked about this lately.” Lucky tipped his head down, trying to catch her eyes. “Kelse—you know, even if we lose next week, it’s not over. Buffalo is right there. And they’ve got a case that isn’t tainted—”

“I just—my mother was so scared—she doesn’t have anyone else. It’s just me and her, and he nearly took me away from her. If those stairs had been a little more steep—if I had fallen another way—”

Lucky’s stomach rolled as he nodded. “Yeah, I know—”

“He traumatized all of those women—he interviewed his own victims, Lucky—and he gets to stand up in federal court in front of the national press—” She stopped. “I just hate it. And I hate that he keeps getting to do this. If he loses there, it just starts all over again in Buffalo.”

“I can’t think about that right now,” Lucky said after a long moment. “Scott seems convinced that Elizabeth’s testimony will do most of the damage—and Dante—this tape—he’s done, Kelse. No judge on the planet could let this go—”

“I hope you’re right.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I need to get to work. I’ll talk to you later.” She brushed a kiss against his mouth. “Call me when you get off shift.”

“I will.”

The Cellar: Carly’s Office

“Well, there’s my baby!”

Carly smiled as she lifted Morgan out of the portable bassinet she’d set up in her office. “Hey, Mama. I thought you were working today—”

“I am—” Bobbie kissed Carly’s cheek, then took the baby from her. “But I’m on my lunch break, and I thought I’d zip over to see how you’re doing.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t see a guard—”

“Don’t tell Sonny,” Carly said quickly. “Jason drove me here, and he’s picking me up. I’m still waiting on Sonny to bring a guard home—it’s a long story—”

“Carly—”

“Mama, you don’t have a long break, and I don’t think we should waste your Morgan time by listening to my problems.” Carly returned to her desk and started to sort through her paperwork. “It’s no big deal. No one except you and Jason knows I’m here today, and it’s only for a few hours. Plus—Jason doesn’t seem to think I’m in danger during the day. It’s almost the lunch rush, and most of their guys come to Kelly’s—”

“Carly, I’m not judging your security. If Jason says you’re safe for a few hours, then I believe him. I just—” Bobbie sat on the sofa and gently rocked Morgan again. “I just don’t know why I’m hearing his name and not Sonny’s.”

Carly’s hand stilled in the process of signing her name, then she sighed. “Because Sonny is still not entirely on board with me coming back to work. He let Leticia go—and then never told me he couldn’t get her back.”

“Carly—”

“I’m handling it, Mama. Sonny—he’s just—this is so hard for him. And it’s hard for me, too,” she added when her mother’s eyes flashed. “But I told you last week — I just—I have to figure out how to do this—”

“Is he doing any of the figuring?” Bobbie said coolly. “What did he say when you went back to work on Monday—”

“Mama—”

“Don’t Mama me, Caroline.” Bobbie got to her feet and put her grandson back in his bassinet. “You told me that moving back into the penthouse was a good idea, but I knew it wasn’t. And then last week, you told me you were unhappy, and I told you to come home to me—and now—”

“I love him,” Carly said simply. “And he’s hurting. This thing with Ric—losing control last summer—not being able to protect me—it’s weighing on him, and yes, asking for the trial—it’s made things worse. Sonny isn’t doing well. I left in September because I was worried that he was going to hurt someone. But he didn’t. He’s only hurt himself. In sickness and in health. For better or worse.”

Bobbie gritted her teeth. “I understand, Carly—”

“Sonny and I are—we’re trying. As soon as Ric is out of the picture, it’ll be better. It’ll be like it was last year. We were good last year, you know that—after Brenda and all that happened—we were finally clicking and happy—why is it so wrong to want that back?”

“It’s not wrong to want it, baby.” Bobbie sighed. “It’s just—there’s no going back, Carly. You can’t turn back time. These last six months—it’s happened. It exists. Maybe you and Sonny can be happy again—but it won’t be like it was.”

“I still think I can make it work. I think—” Carly’s voice trembled. “I think I can still reach him.”

“Do you really?”

Carly closed her eyes. No. She didn’t believe it. Not deep down where it mattered. Not after Monday and the panic attack — she just knew she could never tell her mother she was staying because she was afraid of what would happen to Sonny if she left.

“Yes,” Carly said instead. “I do believe it. But I love you for pushing me. For making me think. Please just try to understand—”

“I can’t, but you will always have my support.” Bobbie kissed her forehead. “I love you, and I have to get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Lois attempted a smile when Elizabeth opened the door early that afternoon. “Hey, thanks for letting me up—” She paused as she took in the younger woman’s pale face and tired eyes. “Are you feeling all right? I can go—”

“No, no…” Elizabeth stepped back and let Lois in, dragging a hand absently through her hair. “No. It’s fine. I was just—I didn’t sleep well last night.” She looked blankly towards the kitchen. “Did you want something to drink? Or—”

“No, I just wanted to check on you. I was worried yesterday,” Lois told her. “That—it was a lot,” she added. “Reading what he said, knowing there’s a tape out there—”

“I can’t—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, scrubbed her hands over her face. “I can’t think about it. I really can’t.”

Lois bit her lip. “I feel the same way, but I think maybe I need to think about it. Because next week—it’ll be everywhere. I can—I can go rant at Ned. He’s used to it by now, and just—find a way to be okay with everyone else hearing—” She stopped. “I’m sorry. You don’t need me going on and on about any of this—”

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I get it. I just—” She looked towards the stairs. “Come upstairs for a minute?”

“Okay,” Lois drawled. She followed Elizabeth to the second floor and down the hall to the bedroom—then stopped, seeing the pile of clothes in the middle of the floor.

“That what I was doing when Wally called to tell me you were here.” Elizabeth went over to the closet to drag out another red t-shirt off a hanger and throw it on the pile. “I can’t think about it. But I also can’t—”

Lois realized once the new t-shirt hit the floor—that all of the clothes were red. Different shades—and some just had pieces of red along with other colors. She picked up a red and white sweater. “Elizabeth—”

“I didn’t remember about the hair until almost two years later. I cut it back then—” She touched the ends of her hair. “It’s taking forever to grow out, but it’s finally—I didn’t dye it. I thought it would make people ask too many questions—”

She tossed a dress on the pile—a white dress with red, purple, and yellow flowers. “I still don’t walk in the park at night alone.”

Another sweater—this one with barely any red except for some lettering—hit the pile. “I don’t wear bright red anymore. Not like I did before. But I could wear other shades. Patterns and prints, they didn’t bother me—I love dark red lipstick—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I came in here to change my shirt—” She looked at Lois, and for the first time, Lois saw a juice stain on the t-shirt Elizabeth wore. “And I just—I saw all this red—”

She turned away from the closet, stared at the pile. “How could I own so much of this color? How could I just forget—”

Elizabeth sank onto the edge of the bed. “I can’t do it,” she said dully. “I thought I could. I thought I was okay. But I can’t testify next week.” She met Lois’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I just—I can’t.”

“All right.” Lois sat next to her. “Dante’s testimony should be okay, I think. We can call Scott—”

“It won’t be enough—” Elizabeth choked back a sob. “Scott needs me to—he needs me to set the story because the tape can’t be direct evidence—there’s—it has to be me, but it can’t be. I can’t see him again—I can’t look at him—” She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

Lois put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder, gingerly. “Why don’t I call Jason?”

“No, no—I told him I was okay—and he just—he has so much else to worry about—I just—” Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath. “I can’t—it’s all my fault. All of it. All the girls who came after me—he was trying to rape me every time—and he hurt so many people—and he thinks—he thinks he’s my soul mate?” the final word was bit out on a bitter note as Elizabeth met Lois’s gaze.

“Because there’s something wrong with him,” Lois told her firmly. “He’s wrong in the head. He doesn’t know what real love is, Elizabeth. You know that. It’s a sick, twisted obsession that had nothing to do with you. Tell me you know that. You were just a baby when he did this—you did nothing to deserve it.”

“I just—I can’t stand it—it was supposed to be over, and it never ends. It just keeps on coming—”

“This will make it over,” Lois said, fervently. “Look at me, Elizabeth.” She brushed Elizabeth’s tears from her cheek. “If you go into that hearing next week with half the dignity and strength you showed in that press conference, you will have those attorneys shaking in their boots. You can do this. You already faced him once, Elizabeth. One on one, with nothing more than your courage and a baseball bat—and you took him out. No one else did.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I wouldn’t be alone in the courtroom,” she murmured. “I guess. I don’t know. Will you—” She bit her lip. “If I can’t—I don’t want to let you and Ned down. I know how important it is. I want to fight for Brooke—”

“That is not your job, sweetheart. It’s not,” Lois said when Elizabeth grimaced. “Your job is to take care of you. To put you and your child first. Not my daughter. She’s—” Lois closed her eyes. “She’s gone. She’s—God, I hope she’s at peace. I can’t have you thinkin’ any of this is your responsibility.”

“I want to be strong,” Elizabeth said. She roughly wiped at her eyes. “I just—I don’t know if I can testify.”

“If you can’t, Scott will figure something else out. There’s always Buffalo, and there are other cases. Other DNA matches. You worry about you, Elizabeth. Let the system worry about itself.”

She hesitated. “You sure you don’t want me to call Jason?”

“No.” Elizabeth looked around the room. “No,” she repeated. “He’s dealing with enough. I just need to clean this up. I’ll talk to him when he comes home. Thank you for stopping by Lois. I’m —I’m just sorry I can’t be stronger.”

Kelly’s: Diner

Dante slid onto a stool at the counter, reaching for a menu.

“Like you’re not just going to order a burger.”

He set the menu down to find Lulu in front of him, already putting a glass of soda down. “I could change.”

“Sure. But you won’t.” Lulu gave him a set of utensils, then hesitated. “Lucky and Kelsey were here earlier, talking about the transcript of some tape.” She tipped her head. “So, I guess you went through with it.”

“Yeah. I’m testifying next week.” Dante picked up a straw, slowly peeling the wrapper back. “Taggert gave the transcripts to Ned and Lois yesterday. And to Elizabeth.” He crumpled the wrapper up. “I’m not great company, Lu. Maybe you should just put in the order.”

“I will, but I just want to say something first—” Lulu leaned over the counter. “You did the right thing. I know there’s things on the tape no one should ever have to hear, and I’m sure it’ll cause pain. But if it gets him off the streets for good—then I think Brooke would be proud of you, too.”

“Maybe. I just—” Dante rubbed his cheek. “That’s not how Ned and Lois should have found out about Brooke. She—I knew,” he said slowly. “She never came out to me officially, but I knew. And Vinnie knew it, too. That’s part of the reason he went after her. He wanted to show her—” His stomach rolled.

A bit pale, Lulu leaned back. “I’m sorry, Dante. I really am. For Brooke, for you, and for her parents.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll be all over the news next week,” Dante muttered.

“And that sucks, too. Especially since Brooke hasn’t been given one ounce of privacy since the moment it happened. But I think she did tell some people. Lucas, my cousin, he came out to us right after Brooke died. In fact, he brought Felix to her memorial. He was the one that invited her out. I just—I think maybe she did tell him.”

Dante squinted at her. “Why does that matter?”

“Maybe it doesn’t. I guess—it’s just nice to think of her as not being completely alone with it,” Lulu said with a shrug. “I think that would be the worst part of having a secret like that in a new town. I hope she did tell him. I hope she felt safe enough.”

“That’s—you’re right. That does—I hope she did, too. Maybe I’ll ask Lucas or something.” He flashed a half smile at her. “Thanks, Lu.”

“No problem. You want that burger now?”

Gatehouse: Living Room

Ned stepped back to let Lois into the room, frowning as he closed the door behind her. “I wasn’t expecting you, was I? I thought we were moving into the offices tomorrow—”

“What? Oh. No.” Lois blinked at him. “No, I was just coming—I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday.”

“At the PCPD?” Ned nodded. “Yeah, me either. It’s—” He exhaled in a rush. “It’s a lot,” he admitted. “Knowing that there’s a tape of that scum saying that crap—it’s almost too much. Taggert’s right. Maybe we shouldn’t listen—”

“I went to see Elizabeth.”

Ned tipped his head slightly. “Elizabeth? Why?”

“Well, she just was—she was so upset, and I know—” Lois spread her hands out the side. “I was just worried about her. Ned—she’s thinking about not testifying.”

Ned gently closed his eyes, let the news settle, then nodded. “I can see how this would shake her. She doesn’t have to listen to the tape, so maybe she can just leave after—”

“It’s the sitting in the courtroom, looking at him—” Lois brushed at the tears on her cheeks. “She doesn’t think she can after reading that transcript.” She sat on the sofa. “And I just—she was ripping all the red clothes out of her closet—and she was so upset, Ned.”

“She’s dealing with a lot right now,” Ned admitted. He sat next to her. “She’ll come around—”

“When is it enough?” Lois demanded. “She’s just a baby, Ned—”

“Lois—”

“She’s twenty-three. Did you know that? That’s it. Four years older than our Brooke. I watched that press conference from Bensonhurst. I watched her stand up there and—” Lois closed her eyes. “I don’t know if Brooke meant to die. It haunts me, Ned. We were out of the house, arguing while she was struggling.”

“I know that—”

“I’ll never know if she meant to take her own life or if she just wanted a moment away from all of this and took too many pills. I’ll never know if she knew it was Vinnie. If she knew the man who destroyed her life was someone who knew her—she had a moment of weakness—she couldn’t handle it—and I can’t—”

“We’re not the ones putting the pressure on Elizabeth,” Ned told Lois softly. “And I know it’s been difficult for her since Ric Lansing jumped bail. But it’s not good for you to get this involved—”

“Well, someone should! Someone be putting her first—we didn’t put our baby first! Where are her parents? Where is Jason? Why isn’t someone stopping this?” Lois shoved herself to her feet and started to pace the room. “To keep asking her over and over again to relive this—the investigation, the attack—the hearing—and now this transcript—”

“Lois, if Elizabeth doesn’t testify, Scott will have to call Taggert and Mac. We might lose. And then the plea deal is gone. Buffalo might not go after him. He might go free. You want it over? The hearing next week is our best chance—”

“I just— I missed all the chances to help our baby—”

Ned took Lois in his arms, gently rocked her back and forth. “Elizabeth has people who care about her. Jason will look after her. I’ll call him myself and check in a day or two.”

“I just—I want Brooke back.” Lois fisted her hands against his chest. “I want that moment back—I just want one more chance to get it right!”

Ned pressed his lips to her dark hair, squeezing his eyes shut as Lois sobbed. “I know. I want it, too.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason dismissed Cody for the night, then closed the door behind him, dropping their dinner from the Grille on his desk. “Elizabeth?” he called, removing his leather jacket and hanging it up in the closet.

He frowned when she didn’t call back— “Elizabeth?” His heart began to beat just a bit faster as he went into the kitchen, found nothing, then took the stairs two at a time, almost running by the time he reached their bedroom —

Jason didn’t realize how much he’d really expected to find her unconscious, sprawled out somewhere until he finally saw her. She was sitting on the floor, her back against the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, staring blankly at the massive pile of clothes in front of her.

“Elizabeth?”

She looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot, and her cheeks stained with tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Jason slid next to her on the floor, reached for her arm, placing two fingers over her wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t. I can’t do it. I’m not—” She looked at him, her eyes so tired and worn out but dry as if she’d cried all the tears she could. “I’m not strong enough.”

Satisfied her pulse rate was normal, Jason pressed her hand to his chest. “Strong enough for what?”

“I can’t testify.” She turned away from him, looked at the clothing. “I thought if I just ignored it, if I just—pretended it wasn’t happening—I could do it. I really just wanted to sit and relax today. I—I spilled some juice, and I came upstairs—I went into the closet—and I just—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “There’s so much red.”

Jason leaned forehead, pressed his lips to her forehead. He couldn’t speak. Didn’t know how to force the words out. He’d read the transcript, too.

“Elizabeth—”

“I’ve been lying to myself. I keep saying I’m strong, that I can do anything, but I can’t, and I can’t do it. I can’t talk about what he did to me while he’s looking at me—” Her words tumbled out so fast, she nearly tripped over them. “I can’t.”

“Okay.” Jason got to his feet, lifted her into his arms, then set her against the pillows on the bed. “Okay,” he repeated as she just looked at him. “Then you don’t have to testify. Let Baldwin fix this on his own. The cops screwed up the case, it’s their problem.”

Elizabeth sighed, leaned back against the pillow, stared at the ceiling. “He’ll get away with it.”

“Not if you don’t want him to.”

She met his eyes and clearly understood what he was saying. She smiled faintly, but he was encouraged by the curve in her lips. “I’m such a hypocrite. I started that support group, pretending I had it all together. But I don’t.”

“That doesn’t make you a hypocrite, Elizabeth. It makes you human. I hate that this tape exists. That it has to be put it into evidence—that anyone else gets to see or hear what’s on it. If you don’t want to testify, I’ll tell Baldwin myself. You won’t even have to see him.”

“It would be easy to let you do that,” she murmured. She closed her eyes. “It would be easy to stay in this room, to throw out all those clothes, and let you fight all my battles.”

“Just say the word.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and her smile was bigger this time. And even reached her eyes. “I really love you, you know. I know we say that a lot to each other, and I’m glad we do. It’s important. But I mean it. I love you. I love that you would let me just walk away from this.”

“It’s not about letting you do anything—I just—I’ll support whatever you want. Whatever you need. So just tell me to go ahead, and I’ll call Baldwin right now—”

She exhaled slowly, then sat up. “I have to testify. Not just because the case needs it—our case could be thrown out—the Buffalo case might take another year—Vinnie might even make bail on that —all of that is true. But I have to testify.” Elizabeth met his eyes. “Because all these years later, and it can still shake me. If I don’t testify, he wins. He still has power over me. I can’t—I can’t let him have that power.”

Jason pressed his lips together. “Okay. Then you’ll testify. What do you need from me? Do you want to bag this stuff up—”

“No.” Elizabeth turned, setting her feet on the floor. “No—it’s just—it’s just a color. We can put them back—” She pressed a hand to her stomach just as he heard a rumble. Her cheeks flushed. “I haven’t really eaten all day. Did—did you bring home dinner?”

“I stopped at the Grille. Let’s go heat it up and get something to eat.” Jason stood, then pulled her to her feet. “I love you,” he told her, tipping her face up to his and kissing her, then leaned his forehead against hers. “In court next week, just keep your eyes on me. And we’ll get through it.”

“I know we will.” She kissed him again, and then they went down to have dinner.

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