My foes and friends watch my reign end
I don’t know how it could’ve ended this way
Smoke billows from my ships in the harbor
People look at me like I’m a monster
Now they’re screaming at the palace front gates, used to chant my name
Now they’re screaming that they hate me
Never wanted you to hate me
– Castles Crumbling, Taylor Swift
Friday, October 3, 2008
Nadine’s Apartment: Bedroom
The shrill beeping broke Johnny out of a solid sleep, and he jerked straight up, rubbing his eyes, bewildered by the strange sound and then by his surroundings. The light had only just begun to creep through the blinds drawn in the room’s one miserly window.
“What the hell is that sound—”
“Oh, sorry, sorry—” The sheets rustled, and then the sound cut off abruptly. “Sorry. I forgot to tell you I’m sort of a morning person when I’m not on night shift.”
Johnny blinked, clearing the sleep from his eyes, blearily looking at the woman next to him — slowly reality began to drift in, and he remembered where he was—and who he was with.
“It’s…” He stifled a yawn, shoved the sheet aside to rise to his feet. “Yeah, it’s fine. I, uh—need to get up earlier more often.” Johnny scratched his chest absently, scanning the room for his suitcase which he’d dragged in sometime after they’d eaten pizza for dinner.
“I should have turned it off or something,” Nadine said, getting out of the bed, restlessly shoving the sheet back up to the pillow.
He glanced at her, struck suddenly by the insanity of the situation he found himself in. It was different waking up here in Port Charles, in Nadine’s apartment. In her bedroom. In Vegas, it all seemed surreal, almost like acting out a play—even last night, when he’d driven to Port Charles—
But now it was morning. And he was looking at his wife, in the Hello Kitty nightshirt she’d donned before going to sleep. There was a red line crease on her cheek from the pillow, and her blonde hair was mussed. He’d married Nadine Crowell. And they were sleeping together.
He stared down at the shaving kit he’d pulled out of the side zipper, a bit disconcerted by all of it. It was real today in a way it hadn’t been before—and he realized being back in Port Charles, people were going to find out. People who knew Lulu. Who might find a way to tell her if she ever recovered—
Johnny’s stomach pitched at the thought of Lulu finding out he’d married someone else only a few days after her terrible breakdown—and that he’d already started sleeping with her. Johnny opened his mouth, to maybe suggest to Nadine that they needed to rethink the sleeping arrangements—
“I usually go for a run when I have the mornings off,” Nadine said, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. She crossed to her dresser, pulled out some leggings and a long-sleeved shirt with the University of Ohio-Athens logo emblazoned across it. She shot him a rueful, almost nervous grin. “I don’t think you’re much of a morning person, huh?”
“Not without a few gallons of coffee, no,” Johnny said.
“Oh, well, I always have plenty of that. So, um—” She held the clothes to her chest. “I’ll just get changed and head out. If that’s—I mean, we don’t have to do anything else today, do we?”
“No. I mean, you don’t. I need to track down Jason. Find out what’s going on.” Johnny gripped the shaving kit more tightly. “Listen—”
“This is so weird and awkward, which I don’t really understand except I do, so let’s just—” Nadine flashed him another smile. “Let’s just skip it, okay? I, um, I’ll go get changed, and you go do whatever you want. Help yourself to whatever.”
She was out of the bedroom, and the bathroom door had closed before Johnny had even registered what she’d said.
It was weird and awkward, and he felt terrible for it since he’d started the physical side of their relationship. He’d talked her into bed twice in Vegas, and maybe yesterday—it had made sense. But now Johnny wasn’t so sure if it was a good idea to keep mixing all of this and making it confused.
He and Nadine would just have to find a way to figure that out — after she went for a run, and he had some coffee.
Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen
Across town, Jason carefully set Elizabeth down into a chair at the kitchen table. “I told you we’d bring you something in the living room if you really want to be downstairs—” he said when he saw her face twist in pain.
“No. No. It’s okay.” She gripped the edge of the table, offered both her sons a reassuring smile. “It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be. It was a lot more painful recovering from Jake’s C-section…” She smiled when Audrey set down a cup of tea and discreetly handed her pain medication. “And the best way to do this is to move around.”
Jason still looked hesitant but dropped his protest. He brought his own coffee to the table and sat down. “Thank you, Mrs. Hardy, for breakfast. I would have—”
“Wrestling Cameron into his school clothes is a far more useful task for you, Jason.” Audrey patted his hand reassuringly. “He wriggles away from me far too easily.”
“Are you giving Jason and Gram a hard time, Cameron?” Elizabeth asked her oldest who just made a face.
“Hate school. Sleep better.”
“You can sleep when you graduate.” Elizabeth popped her meds into her mouth, drank some water. “And you like your teacher. And your class—”
“How come I got a new room?” Cameron cut in. “How many rooms are there? I miss my swing set.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together, glanced down at her plate, unsure how to combat that criticism. In the last week, Cameron had gone from their house with his own room, to sharing rooms at Lucky’s, then Audrey’s, and now Jason’s. Not to mention the time he’d spent with Carly. He’d been shuffled around a lot over the last week, and he had a right to be a little put out by it all.
“Well, Mommy needed some help to get better after her car accident, sweetheart. And you know I can’t carry her around,” Audrey said. “Jason can.”
“Oh.” Cameron considered this, then looked at his mother. “You still hurt?”
“A little. And I have to be careful if I want to get better quickly.” Elizabeth smiled at Jason, who looked a bit lost with the conversation. She knew he hadn’t planned to confuse or upset the boys by moving them to his place, and they couldn’t tell a four-year-old that they’d done so for security.
“This weekend, I’ll be feeling good enough to go to the park. Maybe we can go to the swing set there,” she suggested. She looked at Jason. “I mean, if you think you can. I can’t—”
“Yeah. Yes,” he said, this time more firmly. “Just tell me when. I’ll make it happen.” Their eyes met, and she knew that he wasn’t making that promise lightly. He really was trying — she just wished she knew how to help him cope with what Sonny was facing.
Her grandmother had cautioned patience, but Elizabeth wasn’t sure she was going to be able to manage it for long. He was taking on too much, and she worried that he wasn’t confiding in anyone. Without Sonny, without Emily — all that remained was Elizabeth and Carly, and Elizabeth doubted Jason would burden Carly with how he was feeling.
She’d try to give him some space, but eventually — he was going to have to face what was going on. She just hoped her grandmother was right — that Elizabeth would know the right moment to push, and not chase him into shutting down even more.
Kelly’s: Courtyard
Nadine pocketed her headphones in her zippered jacket, then pulled open the door to the diner. It was just after the morning rush for the dock workers, and there was a bit of a lull —
But that didn’t mean it was empty. Leyla Mir was at the counter, a cup of coffee in her hand. She glanced over at the door when the bell jingled, only to look back as if registering who had walked in.
“Hey. ” Nadine pasted a friendly smile on her face, approached the counter. “Are you on your way to work?”
“Yes,” Leyla said shortly. She set some money on the counter. “Don’t let me keep you. I’m sure you’re very busy.”
Nadine folded her arms a bit, uncomfortable with Leyla’s frosty tone. “Not really. I don’t have work again until Sunday—”
“Oh, so you’re not preoccupied with your new husband?” Nadine could almost see the acid dripping from Leyla’s words, and she flinched. “Did you think no one had heard about your little trip to Las Vegas?”
“No. I just meant to call and tell you myself,” Nadine said slowly. “We got back last night, and it was a long drive from Crimson Pointe—”
“You know, I thought you and Lulu were friends,” Leyla cut in. “She’s had a mental breakdown, and you’ve married her boyfriend within a week! What could you be thinking? It can’t be the money. You’ve never given a damn about any of that.”
“It’s…”
“And I can’t quite bring myself to believe you’d do anything to help Johnny Zacchara cover up that shooting on the docks, so what exactly? Were you overcome with lust or something? Are you pregnant? Were you cheating with him? Is that why you got into trouble at his trial?”
Nadine’s head was spinning. She held both her hands up. “Whoa, just wait a second—”
“Because it must be one of those reasons. Nothing else makes sense—”
“You don’t buy that Johnny and I were just lonely and we liked each other?” Nadine said, but her voice sounded so unsure and a bit shaky that Leyla continued to scowl.
“He doesn’t let a lot of dust settle, does he? I’m surprised he had time to feel lonely at all,” Leyla said, her British accent making her sound even more irritated. “This makes no sense at all, Nadine. Unless you’re someone that I don’t know at all.”
“Leyla—”
“Because anyone who would jump into marriage, into bed with her friend’s boyfriend mere days after she’d had a mental breakdown—and don’t tell me you and Lulu weren’t that close. You knew her well enough. I’m just so—” She shook her head. “I’m so very disappointed in you, Nadine. You’re not who I thought you were at all.”
General Hospital: Conference Room
Maxie dropped the plastic bag on the table. “Ugh, orange soda for breakfast. What is wrong with you?”
“Orange juice is appropriate but not orange soda?” Spinelli wrinkled his nose, reached for the bottle she held out. “This seems arbitrary to the Jackal—and bless my Maximista—” He held the barbecue chips to his chest. “I’d be lost without you.”
“You say that, but it’s clear you don’t trust me.” Maxie sat down, pouted. “You won’t tell me anything about your super-secret project—”
Spinelli popped open the bag, offered it to her. “It is nothing but boring medical jargon. Does the fair Maximista wish for a crash course in programming languages? It could be arranged—”
“You think you’re going to twist me up again and distract me, but it won’t work. I’m on to you, Jackal Boy.” She wiggled her finger in his face. “No more stalling. Spill your beans.”
Spinelli busied himself looking through the paperwork, trying to think how to throw her off the scent. He had to distract her — but with what? He saw a nurse pass them through the blinds, then made a face. He didn’t have a choice, he thought. He’d have to betray a friend who trusted him.
“Did you perchance stop by Kelly’s this morning?” Spinelli wanted to know. “The Jackal wondered if perhaps the Noble Nurse Nadine came in for coffee. She often does on her day off.”
“No! And don’t distract me, I told you! I’m going to get you this time—unless—” Maxie squinted. “Is Nadine involved in this?”
“One could say that. The Jackal, of course, supports all his friends in their decisions, but how will the Blonde One take this news?”
Thrown, Maxie closed her mouth. “What? Lulu? Spinelli—”
“He finds himself torn between hoping she is well enough to learn the truth, but also never hoping she does—”
“What truth?” Maxie grabbed his shirt. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on—”
“I’m surprised you didn’t already hear. “Noble Nurse Nadine married the Septic Son yesterday in Las Vegas.”
“Noble—Septic—married?” Maxie shrieked. “Are you kidding me? Johnny and Nadine got married? What the hell is going on? How could he do that to Lulu? How could she do that to Nikolas? Oh, this is absolutely wild. He won’t get away with this. I won’t let him!”
She whirled around and darted out of the conference room. Spinelli sent up a silent apology to his friend Nadine and got back to work. Sometimes you had to play a little dirty to get what you needed — and Spinelli needed a quiet room and a distracted Maximista.
“Good luck, Noble Nurse Nadine. You’re going to need it.”
Drake Condo: Living Room
Patrick shoved aside a pile of paperwork, looking for the checklist from Robin’s last doctor’s appointment. Robin sat on the sofa, eating a slice of pineapple and ham pizza that made him feel ill. Pregnancy cravings were absolutely ridiculous, he thought. Pizza in the morning wasn’t that big of a deal, but pineapple and ham was a step too far.
“So if Spinelli can build this firewall, is that where you’re going to leave it?” Robin wanted to know. She chased the pizza with a sip of her orange juice, and Patrick decided he needed to look away if he wanted to keep his own breakfast down.
“Until he can trace the glitch back to when it started and build the database of misfires, yeah, I’ll have to.”
“But will you be able to leave it at that?” she asked gently. She touched his arm. “You take on the weight of too much, Patrick. You’re the chief of the medical staff, not the world.”
“I should have known there were serious issues with those machines—”
“You did! You’ve been fighting to replace them!”
“I should have tried harder. Instead, the nurses have been stuck trying to find patterns that Spinelli tell me were impossible, and—”
“Not everything in the hospital is your problem—”
“If this happened on your watch,” Patrick said, “are you telling me you wouldn’t blame yourself?”
Robin made a face, set the plate with her pizza crust on the coffee table, and rested a hand on her belly. “No. But that doesn’t mean I’m not right—”
“I’m going to do my best to put this behind me and not obsess over it,” Patrick said. “I’m going to trust that Spinelli will come through on a way to give us some sense of peace. But that doesn’t mean I can just let myself off the hook.”
“It’s going to take longer than two months to clean up a mess that took more than a year to make,” Robin told him, then she sighed. “I don’t want to fight about this.”
“Neither do I.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back after lunch to pick you up for our doctor’s appointment. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Kelly’s: Diner
Nearly an hour after Nadine’s run-in with Leyla, Johnny found his way to the diner, hoping to get something to eat. He wasn’t much of a cook, and there was nothing in Nadine’s kitchen that didn’t require preparation.
He was going to need a new way to fill his hours, Johnny thought, sliding into an empty chair at one of the tables. He picked up the menu, perused the choices he mostly had memorized. If he was going to be in Port Charles for the foreseeable future, then—
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Babyface Zacchara.”
Johnny tensed, glanced over the tip of the menu to find Scott Baldwin glowering at him. “Scott—”
“That’s Mr. Baldwin to you, wise guy.” Scott pulled out his cell phone, jabbed in a few numbers. “And it’s about time you showed your face around here—yeah, it’s Baldwin. I need a couple of uniforms over here. I have a suspect to take into custody.”
Johnny knew Scott was only half-bluffing — he was definitely calling for cops to come pick Johnny up — but if Johnny were to leave before they arrived, there wasn’t much Scott could do. Then again, maybe it was time to get this over with and see where they stood.
“I guess I should get my lawyer on the phone if we’re going to be having lunch together. You mind if I order something to go?” Johnny asked, tossing the menu on the table, and searching inside his pocket for his own cell phone.
“Yeah, why not? Be my guest. You could also just save us all some time and misery by admitting to gunning Sonny Corinthos down on the pier.” Scott gripped the chair across from Johnny. “What happened? You miss last Saturday? Hit the blushing bride and you just needed to finish the job? Like last April?”
Johnny’s fingers paused over the speed dial leading to Ric. Last April. Michael. Christ, Scott was really going for the triple crown trying to link him to all three shootings. Keep your mouth shut, he thought. If Scott had something, there would have been a warrant out for him.
“But I hear you’ve got a solid alibi for that church shooting.” Scott tipped his head, sneering. “You used your crazy girlfriend for a shield again. Rumor has it she lost it so bad this time they shipped her away—”
“Didn’t you used to be married to her mother?” Johnny asked, idly. He looked at Scott, was assured that he’d struck a nerve when the older man flinched. “Weren’t you the last person who talked to Mrs. Spencer before she had her breakdown?”
“You don’t know a damn thing—”
“I know you have nothing, Scott—”
“What I have is a guy who always seems to be around when something happens to Sonny Corinthos or his family.” Scott’s scowl only deepened. “And so much for your loyalty to that girlfriend of yours. I hear congratulations are in order. You’re on to your next blonde — someone else who threw herself on the pyre and martyred herself at your trial. Lulu went crazy, Nadine ended up with contempt charges—”
Scott’s tirade broke off when the door behind them swung open, the bell jangling. Maxie stalked in, blue eyes lit with fury.
“You have a lot of nerve showing your face around here after what you did to Lulu!” she cried. She fisted her hands at her hips. “She lost her mind trying to help you, to tell the truth, and you went and married someone else? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Johnny just shook his head. “I don’t owe you any answers—” He rose to his feet, but his height didn’t intimidate Maxie at all. She just lifted her chin so that their eyes still met.
“No, but you owe them to Lulu. She just can’t collect. My God, Johnny, did you ever love her at all?”
Johnny opened his mouth, nearly swallowed his tongue. He’d wanted to defend himself, to explain it — but he couldn’t of course —
Then he saw uniforms in the courtyard through the window behind Scott. Johnny had never been so relieved to be arrested.
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