So tell me what you want to hear
Something that will light those ears
I’m sick of all the insincere
So I’m gonna give all my secrets away
This time
Don’t need another perfect lie
Don’t care if critics ever jump in line
I’m gonna give all my secrets away
– Secrets, OneRepublic

---

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Sun peeked around the edges of the shades, and Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes, blinking to clear out the remnants of sleep. Her body felt stiff and sore—and her head was pounding, all of which made sense — she’d had surgery the day before and the back of her hand still pinched where the IV had been inserted.

Beside her, the bag of fluids had mostly run dry, and Elizabeth knew it had been some time since the last dose of pain medication. She licked her lips, dry and cracked, then twisted her head away from the sun, toward the other side of the bed —

Jason was still sleeping — a rarity, she thought. They’d only shared the bed maybe once or twice for the whole night, and she’d never woken before him. But he was lying on his back, one arm stretched above his head, the other resting on his stomach, his chest rising evenly, slowly. How much sleep had he managed in the days since her accident and the shooting at the church? And when had he actually let himself fall sleep last night?

Between them, Jake was also laying on his back in his usual morning sleeping position — which Elizabeth was startled to see mirrored his father’s. One arm flung across his middle, and the other over his head. His tiny mouth was parted slightly — they looked so alike, lying next to one another.

This was what she’d deprived them of all these months — what she’d taken from Jason in keeping him away from his son. She couldn’t fix the last sixteen months, Elizabeth thought, but going forward — the future — that was in her grasp. And she promised herself Jason and Jake would have more mornings like this.

They would have each other.

She winced, as she tried to sit up and didn’t get far. Her core muscles refused to obey the signals sent from her brain, and her legs felt shaky — they trembled even as she slid them a few centimeters towards the edge of the bed.

But, oh, man, she really needed to get up and into the bathroom.

She must have made a sound or maybe jostled the bed slightly because Jason’s eyes were open, and he was already on his feet before Elizabeth really processed that he was awake.

“Oh, I didn’t mean—”

But he was already bending down to help her sit up just enough so that he could pick her up from the left, keeping the right hand with its IV free to wrap around the pole so it moved with them. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice a little rough from sleep. “I’ve got you.”

“I know, but—” she sighed, and decided not to argue. He nudged the bathroom door open, then set her down on the counter. “I can do it from here,” she said, her cheeks flushing as he lifted the lid on the toilet.

Jason hesitated — and she knew it was silly — the man had seen her naked on many occasions, and he’d been up close and personal with that area, she thought as her cheeks burned even hotter.

“All right. I’ll be out here if you need me.” He kissed her forehead, his unshaved skin rough against hers.

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t easy, but Elizabeth wasn’t a stranger to pain or pushing herself when she didn’t feel one hundred percent. And still, by the time she’d finished and washed her hands, she was trembling from head to toe, but she pulled the door open to call him.

She was already in his arms before she was done speaking, and they were on their way back to bed where Jake remained sleeping like the dead, though he’d rolled over, more towards Jason’s side of the bed.

“I hate having surgery,” she muttered. “It took almost two weeks after Jake was born before I could get up and move around—”

“You almost died,” Jason reminded her. “Then and now,” he added. He drew the sheet up over her bare legs. “And Patrick wanted me to tell you that as far as he’s concerned, you have as much time as you need from work. And don’t even say a word about the money,” he said when she opened her mouth.

“You’re not going to just pay for everything—”

“I am, and we can argue about it all you want later when you’re able to stand on two feet to do it right.” Jason leaned down, rested his forehead against hers. “You’ve always taken care of me when I’ve needed it. Let me do the same for you.”

“You were a terrible patient. Every time,” she grumbled. “It’s a miracle you survived. Moving around, pulling stitches, checking out after getting an artery repaired, running down bad guys with a bullet in your leg—”

“And I’m still here because of you.” He kissed the back of her knuckles. “I should get your grandmother. She told me that you needed another IV change and some meds when you got up.”

“Oh, don’t—”

“She’s in charge,” Jason added, getting to his feet. He hesitated. “I have to go to the coffee house this morning after I drop Cameron at school, but I’ll be home this afternoon.”

“Home,” she repeated softly. She relaxed against the pillows. “It seems so strange to think about that being true after everything we’ve been through.”

He paused, as if unsure what to say next.  “We talked about it at the hospital, so I thought—”

“I know. I guess…maybe it’s not fair, but I keep waiting for it to change,” she admitted. “It’s just happened so much so fast, and my head is still spinning. And I still don’t know why I’m not still in the hospital.”

Jason sat back down on the edge of the bed, though now he kept his back to her, his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands dangling loosely between his legs. “I know it’s been confusing. I’m sorry for that.”

“What did you always say to me? I don’t want you sorry, Jason. I just want to know what’s going on.”

“Yeah. I know.” He exhaled slowly. “The penthouse isn’t really home, I know that. The boys need a yard, I know that’s important to you. It’s important to me. I’m doing everything I can to make sure I can make them safe. I just know that I want home to be wherever you are. Where they are.”

“I want that, too.” Elizabeth stroked the back of his arm with the tips of her fingers. “So that’s where we’ll start. And when you come home later today, you can tell me what’s going on. As much as you can anyway.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” He shifted his weight and now he was facing her more fully. He leaned down to kiss her gently. “I better get your grandmother.”

“All right. Not like I’m going anywhere.”

Drake Condo: Kitchen

“I am getting too big for this place,” Robin grumbled, maneuvering her eight-month pregnant frame out of Patrick’s galley-style kitchen into the more open living space where a dining table was tucked by the windows. She set down the herbal tea and bowl of granola cereal, then lowered herself carefully into the chair.

At the other end of the table, Patrick barely made a sound and that was a bit alarming. He’d been so overprotective that Robin had mostly wanted to murder him, but not today. She knew his suspicions were preying on his mind. The guilt that something was happening under his watch, of not immediately escalating it to the board —

“Patrick—”

“Dane Callahan is on this list.” He looked up. “He’s one of ours.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, remembering the patient. He’d had an aneurysm—a ticking time bomb. She’d used her protocol to shrink it, and he’d operated it. Successfully. And he’d been in recovery until a stroke two weeks earlier. “I saw his name, but—Patrick, we can’t let this be personal. Let ourselves be blinded and look for connections that aren’t there. Let’s start with what we know for sure. The dispensary machines have been misfiring for months, and Elizabeth got the wrong medication three times—”

“The exact same mistake across two different floors,” Patrick reminded her. “You’re right. We need to be objective.” He set the file aside, focused on her. “The machines have been malfunctioning, and the nurses have developed their own systems of double-checking. Epiphany and I were just talking about ways to standardize those systems and roll out a hospital wide training program.”

“The fact that the same mistake happened across two floors, with two nurses, and two machines is what makes me agree that Elizabeth looks like deliberate sabotage. She never got a single dose of the correct medicine, and the wrong one three times. I just don’t see that happening randomly like the other incidents. I know Dane was a hard loss. The ICU rates have been higher this year. I think we had a run of bad luck, and maybe the nursing staff is too overworked.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s not related—”

“I went through some of these last night. A stroke is a known complication of that surgery. Dane knew the risks, Patrick. We all did. Nearly every file you pulled can be explained that way.”

“I was thinking about the last time I talked to his wife. He had kids, Robin. They needed him to come home. I’m going to be a father,” he added. He rubbed his mouth. “Elizabeth’s boys. Maybe Dane’s family deserves to know—”

“Dane’s family doesn’t need any extra weight on their shoulders right now. Not before we know more. And Elizabeth’s family knows what happened to her, don’t they? You spoke to Audrey. Jason knows. They’re telling Elizabeth, I’m sure.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“I’m not saying that you don’t look into it. We should. That hospital means a lot to us both. It’s where we fell in love, and it matters. We took an oath. But I think your instincts to keep this quiet were right. We don’t know what this is yet, and the hospital was already under investigation after last year. And with the link to Jason—we need to eliminate that as a possibility.” Robin tipped her head. “What’s the plan? What are you doing next?”

“Spinelli texted me earlier. He’s looking into the dispensary machine. Because he brought up the same point you did. So I’ll wait to see what he turns up and try to let that be enough.” He rounded the table, dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Zacchara Estate: Foyer

“And if you don’t call me—” Claudia stopped just at the entrance to the living room, then pressed her back against the wall, hissing into the phone at her ear. “I will track your ass down, John, so stop avoiding me.” She tucked the phone in her cleavage, then sauntered in the living room where Anthony’s chair had been tucked under the breakfast table.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Anthony eyed her malevolently as she sank into a chair across from Trevor and next to Ric. “No. I bet you slept like the Jezebel you are—”

Claudia rolled her eyes, broke off a piece of a croissant, then leaned back in the chair to cross her legs. “You really need new material, Daddy. It’s tired. Jezebel, harlot, blah, blah—”

“Heard from your brother?” Anthony asked, because of course, Johnny was the only person that mattered to her father.

“Not since the last time you asked.” Claudia poured coffee into her cup, keeping her tone bored. She fluttered her lashes at her father, “Then again, maybe I’m lying.”

Anthony bristled and Ric made a face. “Is that helpful?” he asked her.

She shrugged. “I’m just playing the role Daddy gave me. Useless parasitic dilettante.” She popped another piece of croissant in her mouth.

“Always good to play to your strengths,” her father retorted.

“And I do it so well.”

“We gave John a deadline, Anthony,” Trevor reminded him. “He still has—” His dark eyes flicked towards the clock on the side table. “Four hours.”

“Three hours and forty-seven minutes.” And with that ominous correction, Anthony rolled backwards from the table, then maneuvered himself out of the room.

“Isn’t he a ray of sunshine?” Claudia lifted her coffee. “Another happy morning in the Zacchara household. I wonder how long it will last.”

Jacks Estate: Foyer

Carly stepped back, allowed Bobbie entrance. “I didn’t expect you.” She furrowed her brow. “Unless you called while I was out. I took the boys to school.”

“Oh, did you have Cameron last night?” Bobbie asked, hanging her coat on a hook in the hallway, then looping the strap of her purse over top. “I thought Elizabeth had been discharged—”

“I stopped by this morning and ran into Jason in the parking garage. I’m just—I’m trying to help where I can.” Carly wrapped one arm around her waist, then with the other, rubbed at her temple. “I keep trying to make up for how horrible I was the other day. Or any other day. Jason seemed grateful, and Morgan—well, I’m trying to keep him as happy as possible before I tell him—”

“You didn’t tell him yet?” Bobbie asked, quirking one eyebrow up. “You’re not worried he’ll hear at school?”

Carly sighed, then went to the kitchen, her mother following. “If his preschool teacher or classmates are talking about a gangster getting shot in the head yesterday, then I’ll have an entirely new problem to solve.” She took down a coffee cup, handed it to Bobbie. “I wanted to tell him, but then I had Cam for a while after school, and Morgan—” She slid onto a stool, watched her mother pour some coffee from the carafe. “He was so happy. He doesn’t know anything’s wrong, and he finally has someone to play with. I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“Carly—eventually someone will say something. A passing comment between two adults who don’t realize a child is listening. At Kelly’s. Waiting for pick up—Morgan should hear it from you,” Bobbie said.

“I know. I know.” Carly rubbed her forehead. “I just…I wish Jax were here,” she murmured. “He always knew how to do this. To start these conversations. Or to be right there to pick up if I faltered—How could I do this? How could I ruin the best relationship I ever had? I threw it all away, and for what? For Sonny?”

“I’ve made mistakes of my own. Similar, not identical.” Bobbie sat across the island from her. “When we lost BJ, the day we lost her, Tony had found me with another man. I was so foolish,” she murmured. “I can’t even blame grief or loss for the affair with Damian Smith. Just boredom. I was bored being married to the kindest, gentlest man who’d ever made the mistake of loving me.” Bobbie stared down into her coffee cup. “Tony threw me out that day. We came home from losing her, and he’d just—he couldn’t face it.” She lifted her eyes to Carly’s. “We patched things up, I suppose. But we did nothing to fix the cracks. Maybe we should have. You and Jax — what you have is real, and you know that, sweetheart. You know that you fell in love, you married, and now you’re separated. You’re taking this time to breathe. To reset. It’s necessary, even if painful.”

“I think maybe he’s back to thinking I’m not worth the trouble. He didn’t like me much before we bonded over losing Courtney.” Carly toyed with the cuffs of her long-sleeved shirts. “I haven’t really given him much of a reason to think I’ve changed.”

“All you can do now is put one foot in front of the other and continue to do your best. Jax will make his own choices, and you can’t force him.” Bobbie straightened her shoulders. “Are you going to the hospital or the hotel?”

“Hotel first, I have a meeting. Then the hospital—Sonny might go in for another surgery if the swelling has reduced enough, and there’s paperwork to sign. I don’t want Jason to deal with any of it.” Carly forced a smile. “The least I can do is make his life a little easier. Better late than never.”

Las Vegas, Nevada

Mandalay Bay Resort: Hotel Room

As his family plotted his future at the breakfast table in Crimson Pointe, Johnny rolled over and buried his face into a soft pillow, still half-asleep. It was just past six, and he rarely woke before the sun had been high in the sky for several hours.

When he moved, he slid closer to the middle of the bed and his leg brushed something else — smooth, bare skin — and his eyes snapped open, startled. Nadine was also curled on her side, her arms curled around the pillow, and one of her legs curled up towards her chest.

The events of the last few days — hell, just the last day slowly filtered through his rusty brain, and he saw the edge of something gold flashing on Nadine’s left hand, half-shoved under the pillow.

He raised his hand above his face, saw a thick gold band on his own left ring finger and swallowed hard. It was real. He’d shot Sonny Corinthos, left him for dead on the pier, dragged Nadine around town and then across the country, guilted her into marrying him and now—

She was sleeping next to him, wearing a wedding ring he’d chosen hastily from the small selection at the wedding chapel where they’d opted for a minister instead of an Elvis or Johnny Cash impersonator. They’d also been offered the option for a mini-Elvis impersonator, which would have just made the whole damn thing perfect, Johnny thought.

He rolled onto his back, stared at the ceiling above the bed. He was married. He’d done it to protect Nadine, sure, but he’d also protected himself. And Jason had helped arrange it, so maybe Sonny wasn’t too badly hurt—

But if Sonny was okay, wouldn’t he just tell everyone who’d shot him, and that Nadine had been there? Oh, man, what if Sonny wasn’t okay? What would happen then—

“You think really loud.”

Johnny jolted again as the sleep slurred words pulled him back into the moment, and he looked over. Nadine’s eyes were still closed, but she was awake now. He didn’t know how he knew that—only that he did. “You can’t hear me think.”

“Yeah, I can.” Nadine sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eye, her mussed blonde hair falling down over her shoulder, and a strap of the sleep tank she’d bought the night before sliding down her arm. Blearily, she rolled towards the other side of the bed, where she’d left her phone on a charger — that reminded Johnny — he hadn’t plugged his in, so it was definitely dead now.

Her arm stretched out, and Johnny thought he was probably going to hell anyway, so why not enjoy the way Nadine’s tank rode up, revealing an expanse of golden skin between the top of her shorts and—

“Hey. Yeah. This is Nadine. Hey, Regina.”

Johnny snapped back into focus when he realized Nadine had the phone to her ear. “Yeah, I’m enjoying my time off.” She folded her legs to sit cross-legged, shoving the strap back onto her shoulder. “I, um, was listening to the news, though, and I thought maybe…yeah, it’s crazy, right? Yeah, I just—you know, I was still in Pediatrics when poor Michael was a patient, and I guess seeing the story just made me think about it. I know you can’t give me details, but the news wouldn’t say anything — yeah. Yeah, right. Thanks.”

Nadine closed the phone, looked at him. “He’s in the ICU in critical condition,” she told Johnny. “He’s scheduled for surgery later today with Patrick.”

“Patrick. Neurosurgery. That’s—” He felt a little ill. “That’s brain—”

“Or spinal,” she reminded him. “But—Regina said he’s on life support. She wouldn’t tell me what kind,” she added, “but combining all of it — critical, life support, more surgery—I don’t want to lie to you, Johnny. If I were talking to a patient’s family, I wouldn’t give them a lot of hope. It’s, uh, similar to what we said about Michael. Back in April.”

Johnny nodded. He sat up, raised one of his knees to his chest. “I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“I know.”

“I tried to get away.”

“I was there.”

He dragged a hand down his face, but the cool metal stopped him, and he stared at his hand instead. “I’m sorry I got you mixed up into this.”

“Me, too.”

Johnny looked over at her now and saw her studying her own ring. “I don’t really know what we’re supposed to do now,” he admitted. “I thought—it felt like I did yesterday but—”

“You slept on it and this all seems insane now. Yeah, same.” Nadine bit her lip, slid a little bit closer to him. “I think we should get on a plane, go home, and go tell your family we got married.”

Johnny looked at her, a bit incredulously. Her blue eyes were clear — not a hint of a joke. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah. Yeah. They’re the ones you’re most worried about. I mean, they probably heard about what happened to Sonny, and you haven’t called them.” Nadine shrugged. “We go home, and we try your plan. Announce that we got married in Vegas and say that’s why you ducked out of contact. Then you pack your things, and you come to my apartment.”

“Your…” Johnny drew his brows together. “Your apartment?”

“Well, sure. I work in Port Charles. You’re supposed to sell this as you got all—” She wiggled her fingers. “You know, overcome with whatever, so you can’t be doing that in Crimson Pointe when I’m in Port Charles.”

“Overcome with lust,” Johnny clarified, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. “You can say it.”

“Why? You’ve got it covered. Sure. I made you go crazy with my—” Nadine made a face. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Absolutely not.” But the snort escaped his lips anyway and she smacked him lightly.

“You are! See! This is why this won’t work!” She huffed, her chest expanding with indignation. “You’re laughing at me when I’m just trying to tell you the plan, and it was your idea in the first place! We need a different reason—”

“No, I think we’ll be fine—”

“This was such a stupid idea,” she muttered, shoving the blanket at him, and starting to slide out of bed, but Johnny just sighed and reached for her, wrapping his hand around her upper arm.

“I’m not laughing at you—”

“That—” Nadine twisted back, stabbing a finger at his mouth. “That is a smile—”

“Yeah, but I’m not laughing at you—”

“Well, it’s sure as hell not with me since I am not smiling or laughing—”

“Just wait, okay—” Johnny grappled as Nadine tried to tug away, but he wasn’t going to cede the point— and rolled her until she was on her back, and he was over her, lightly holding her arms against the mattress. “Do you always jump to conclusions?”

Nadine glared up at him. “I am not—”

“We settled this yesterday, didn’t we? I have no doubt we can sell this—”

“Yeah, okay, because you’re you and I’m me, sure, everyone will completely buy that I lost my head over you, okay? But the only—” Nadine paused, closed her eyes, and some of his amusement slid away as he realized she was serious. “No one is going to believe it’s me. Okay? I have blonde hair and blue eyes, Johnny.”

“Yeah, okay—” He stopped. “People are going to compare you to Lulu, you mean.”

“Yes. Okay? I didn’t think of that yesterday, but I hadn’t slept. Now I have and this was stupid, so maybe we just think of a different plan—”

“I don’t think of Lulu when I look at you.” Which was a troubling thought all on its own, Johnny thought, but he shoved it away for later. Much later.

“Well, that’s because you’re not an asshole,” she muttered. “But we’re selling a story, right?”

“Right.”

“So—”

“So you’re doubting me,” Johnny said, and because he’d always been a little impulsive and stupid, he went with the first thought that popped in his head. He released one of her hands, trailed his fingertips down her chest, between her breasts, lightly dancing down past her hips until they reached the soft skin under her knee. He gripped her leg, moving it just a bit until his body was cradled between her thighs.

Nadine’s chest was rising more rapidly now, her eyes on his, the blue darker than they’d been only minutes earlier. “What are you doing?”

“Giving into my baser urges,” Johnny admitted, then dipped his head to claim her mouth, and after a moment, her free hand dived into his hair and kissed him back.

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