It was a wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People couldn’t believe what I’d become
Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh, who would ever want to be king?
– Viva la Vida, Coldplay

---

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

General Hospital: Elizabeth’s ICU Room

Elizabeth was drifting in a sea of gray, slowly rising towards the surface, her eyelids fluttering a few times — Jason was beside her — and then she was in darkness again.

When she could finally open her eyes and keep them open, she couldn’t quite understand what was happening. Jason was on the wrong side of the bed — the chair hadn’t been there before—

She turned her head on the pillow, staring blankly at the clear walls of the ICU. Was it…was it real? Had any of it happened? Had she dreamed all those days?

“What’s…” the words were barely air escaping from her lips. She turned back, her neck almost refusing the movement. “Jason…”

“Hey.” He slid forward, perching on the edge of the chair. He picked up her hand, though she couldn’t really feel it. “Hey. You’re okay.  They had to take you back into surgery. But it’s alright now.”

“Tired of…” The words faded, and she closed her eyes, nearly sank back into the gray. “Getting annoyed…”

“Elizabeth?”

“No more…” She tried to lick her lips, but her tongue felt almost swollen, difficult to move. “Don’t…why…. surgery?”

“There was some more bleeding. You should rest. Okay? It’s okay.” She felt his warmth hovering, then a gentle stroking at her forehead. “Just rest. I’ll be right here.”

“Was…fine. What—” Her throat was on fire, and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep, to slip into the comfort of nothing, but something wasn’t right, and if she fell asleep she’d never be able to tell him — “It doesn’t…make…sense…”

“I know. I know. But it will be.” His voice faded for a minute, and she could only vaguely make it out. “No, she’s awake. She’s asking questions.”

Another voice came in. “Elizabeth, darling?”

“Gram?” Elizabeth opened her eyes, blearily taking in the figure of her grandmother at Jason’s side. “Gram. You’re here.”

“I’m here, darling. Jason and I are right here. Now you just close your eyes and rest. You need all the strength you can muster for those boys.”

Her boys. Yes. Yes. Elizabeth needed to be strong for them, to get better for them. She closed her eyes and slid back into sleep.

Elm Street

“Oh my God, oh my God—”

Nadine stumbled, and hit the ground, her knees grinding into the pavement, her hand slipping from Johnny’s. He grunted, grabbed her hand, and hauled her back to her feet. “Let’s go! We gotta get out of here!”

“But—” She tried to twist, to look over her shoulder, but Johnny kept her moving, flying through an alley and down a back street until they came out to Elm Street where he’d parked his car — thank God for keyless entry, he thought, shoving his other hand in his pocket and yanking out his keys.

He jerked the passenger door open, shoved Nadine inside, then slammed the door behind her.

“Oh my God, we should call 911, right? We should—” Nadine’s fingers were trembling as he got in, slammed his own door, started the engine, and pulled out into traffic, desperate to put as much space between them and the pier as possible—

Because holy shit.

“Can they trace those calls?” Johnny muttered. “They’ll know you called. That you saw. They’ll never believe it was self-defense. They never do.”

She knew he was right, knew he spoke from experience. But she was a nurse. She saved lives, she didn’t take them.

Nadine said nothing for a long moment. He took a few more turns, getting on the ramp that would take them out of town.

“I can use star sixty-seven,” she said finally. “It blocks numbers. But I can’t do nothing, Johnny. Don’t ask me to do that. I know you’re right. I know—I know what you went through this summer, and I don’t want to help them do that to you again. But—”

“I just—” Johnny exhaled slowly, then pulled over to the shoulder of the road. He dragged his hands down his face. “Yeah. Make the call. Do what you have to do.”

General Hospital: Hallway

Jason murmured something to Audrey, then stepped out to meet Patrick in the hallway. “Did something go wrong in surgery—”

“No. No. I mean—look, just come with me.” Patrick gestured for Jason to follow, and he did reluctantly, though he didn’t like the look on the doctor’s face. What if they hadn’t stopped the bleeding? Or the bleeding had had more complications — sometimes there were blood clots, weren’t there?

He followed Patrick into a conference room. “Just tell me how bad it is. What’s going on?”

“Barring infection, Elizabeth should make a full recovery,” Patrick cut in. “But you need to get her out of this hospital.”

Jason stared at him because nothing about that statement had made any sense. “What are you talking about? She just had major surgery—she coded—her heart stopped. What do you mean, get her out of the hospital?”

“What I’m about to tell you—” Patrick rubbed his jaw, shook his head. “I don’t know for sure what the hell is going on, but I can’t guarantee this morning won’t happen again.” He prowled the conference room, stopping by a window. “Elizabeth’s bleeding was caused by an injury to her kidney noted during the original surgery as being likely to heal on its own. We re-confirmed that diagnosis by looking at the surgical video after we finished today.”

“Okay,” Jason said slowly. “Then how did it start bleeding?”

“I ordered pain medication for Elizabeth after she reopened the sutures.” Patrick gripped the back of a chair, leaned over it. “She received the first few doses up here in the ICU, then two more after she moved floors. After the surgery, we ran a toxicology report. Instead of fentanyl, she was given warfarin.”

“That’s…” Jason tensed. “That’s not a pain medication.”

“No. It’s meant to break up clots, and to give it to a patient with a bruised organ, it could have been a death sentence. Maybe we could say the first time, it was a mistake, but it was three times across two floors, with two different dispensary machines for the medications and two different nurses. I ran the numbers—three doses would have been enough to cause the bleeding necessary for what happened today. Elizabeth went into shock and would have died.”

“Three doses. Two different—that’s not a mistake.”

Patrick’s gaze was intense. “And there’s a chance Elizabeth isn’t the only victim. Maybe Spinelli last month, but we’ve had an uptick in patient deaths. Not anything too surprising. Mostly on the ICU where the rate is always high. But it’s been more patients unresponsive to medication. We’re pulling the records, but I can’t just…I don’t know if Elizabeth was a target or if it was just random, I can’t tell you that. But what I do know is that you need to get her out of this hospital. I can’t guarantee her safety here. Even with a guard on her. Because I can’t guarantee the safety of anyone if the machines are malfunctioning at those rates—and if it was an attack against Elizabeth personally, then I really can’t guarantee anything.”

Jason remained silent, his head spinning. Elizabeth had nearly been murdered. She could have died. And if she stayed in the hospital, there was no guarantee she’d be safe. Who knew what the hell could be injected into her IV? Jason wouldn’t know the difference even if he put a guard on her a door, watched her like a hawk.

Patrick dropped into a chair. “You have the money to set up something at your place. The resources to get whatever equipment you need to monitor. I know Audrey worked post-op before she took over the nursing program. But I can’t focus on this problem if Elizabeth remains at risk.”

“If it’s not just Elizabeth, then it could be someone going after the hospital again. Like last year.”

“Yeah. And if I make a call to the authorities, they’ll shut us down. Maybe that’s the right thing to do. I don’t know.” Patrick put his head in his hands. “I need more information, okay? Right now, Elizabeth is the only person I can say for certain has been a victim of sabotage. And as long as that’s true, she’s not safe here. You can make her safe.”

Jason scrubbed his hands down his face, absorbing all that Patrick had shared. He’d always hated hospitals, but he’d never felt unsafe in one before. Not like this. How many times had he placed his trust in the doctors here at General Hospital? Patrick was right. Elizabeth couldn’t stay here.

“I’ll get it done. You get me a list of what she needs, and I’ll make it happen. If you don’t want to call the cops, fine, Patrick, but this hospital—” Jason exhaled slowly. It had been Emily’s dream to be a doctor here. His father had spent most of his life here. Monica.

Elizabeth loved this place. Her grandparents had practically built it. This would devastate her. And he knew what she’d want him to do. She couldn’t help right now, so he’d do it for her. “I don’t know if I can help, but I have contacts. If you can think of something—”

“You have enough on your plate, but yeah. Yeah. Maybe I might need some help from the other side.” Patrick said. He rose. “Let me get that list together.”

Harborview Road

After Nadine had placed a call about hearing gunshots on Elm Street Pier, Johnny pulled back out onto the road, but he continued driving aimlessly, making turns until they were heading back into town, though he hadn’t said anything about where they were going.

It had begun to rain as they drove back into downtown Port Charles, and the only sound in the car was the repetitive squeak of the windshield wipers back and forth. The sky was gray, overcast, dimming the light in the car.

“They’re going to question me,” Johnny said finally, pulling the car to a red light. “And someone at the hospital might remember you were with me.” He looked over at her, and their eyes met. He looked haunted, his eyes almost hollow. “You’re a witness.”

“It was self-defense. I’ll tell them that. I’ll tell them you had your hands up and everything until the last second—”

“That won’t matter to some people.” His fingers tightened around the wheel. “You’re a witness.”

“You keep saying that. Who’s gonna know? Or care?” Nadine furrowed her brow. “If you’re worried about Jason Morgan, I don’t think he’ll get mad if I just tell the truth. Even if it’s about his friend—”

“No. No. Not Jason. My family,” Johnny said bleakly. “With Logan, they knew I wasn’t guilty. They knew the trial was a joke. I was never in danger. But this? I did this. And if Sonny doesn’t make it, it’ll start all over again, and they’ll arrest me, and put me in jail again.”

The light changed to green, and Johnny looked back at the road. But she kept looking at him, still not sure where he was going with any of this.

“The only person who knows I was there is you. You don’t know my father—”

“I do, actually. He tried to kill me,” Nadine said faintly.

“Yeah, well, that was just a taste of what can he do. After everything with the trial—I don’t know what he would have done if…” He flexed his hands, staring hard at the road in front of him. “I don’t care what they do to me. I’m a Zacchara. It’s part of the package.”

“Doesn’t seem fair.”

“Yeah, well, that’s how it works. But you—you, I can make sure you’re safe. From my family,” Johnny added. He nodded. “Yeah, okay. That’s where we’re going.”

“Where?” Nadine said. “Johnny—”

“I’m taking you somewhere where I know you’ll be safe. You just have to trust me.”

Elm Street Pier

By the time Nadine’s 911 call had been received by dispatch, authorities were already on the scene. The shots had been heard by residents of the nearby buildings, and while gunfire wasn’t exactly unheard of in the neighborhood, it wasn’t normally in broad daylight.

When Mac had arrived on the pier, accompanied by Harper, Sonny had already been transported to General Hospital. His condition was considered critical, though Mac had heard that before in reference to Sonny and would let the doctors handle it.

His job was to discover what had happened here and hope for better results than he’d had in the Kate Howard shooting — but once again, when it came to Sonny Corinthos, Mac was pessimistic about the chances.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Harper said, one hand on his holster. He crouched down at the bloodstains that hadn’t yet been washed away. “We know what it looked like when the paramedics arrived?”

“Uniform said it looked like Sonny hadn’t been moved.” Mac wandered around the area, looking at the wood of the dock stairs and the bench below them. He scrutinized a nick in the top of the bench, followed it down to chunk of missing dock— “How many shots were reported?”

“Not sure. Dispatch said a few reports came in. Scattered. Something like three or four. Why?”

“Sonny was laying here—” Mac gestured at the outlines of the blood. “Facing away from these stairs. So, he was shot from—” He moved a bit, to get into position. “Here. And he’s got a gun in his hand.” He indicated the marks he’d located. “And these are bullet marks. I don’t think this was an execution. There was an exchange of gunfire. Sonny shot back. Or took the first shot.”

“I’ll get CSU to sweep the area, look for bullets and see if they match the gun we took into evidence.” Harper pulled a notepad from his trouser pocket, jotted down a note. “Who do we want to track down first? Morgan? Or one of the current enemies du jour? Zaccharas? That Karpov guy? I mean, it’s connected to the Howard shooting. It has to be.”

“Jason’s at the hospital,” Mac said absently. “I talked to Robin a little while ago, and she told me Elizabeth Webber had a setback. Emergency surgery. I gather Jason’s been there most of the day. I’ll look him up when I go to get an update on Sonny. As for the suspects?” The commissioner exhaled slowly. “I don’t know that we could even talk to anyone on that list yet. Why don’t you check on Elm Street for any business cameras. See if we can find anything interesting. I’ll head over to GH.”

General Hospital: Emergency Room

Epiphany slid a chart into the slot, then leaned over to check the dispatch report. “Gunshot victim arriving shortly—did we page a trauma surgeon?” she asked the desk clerk next to her.

“Dr. Julian is on his way down.” The clerk popped her gum. “And I cleared trauma room two.”

“Good, good.” Absently, Epiphany wound the stethoscope around her neck as she approached the door, scanning the area for the doctor. After she finished with this incoming emergency, she’d get someone to cover for her, go check on Elizabeth.

“Hey. You here for the gunshot victim?” Leo asked, jogging up, his curly dark hair fluttering. He headed for the doors leading to the ambulance bay. “What do we know?”

“Not much. Just that he’s coming in from the docks. Not the first time—” The ambulance backed up to the building, and the doors popped open. A paramedic jumped down and started to reach for the stretcher.

“Gunshot to the upper chest and head,” the paramedic said, reeling off vital statistics. “Lost him a few times in the ambulance, but—”

“Holy shit,” Leo breathed as Epiphany stared down at the man on the gurney.

“I need—” She took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s get him into the trauma room. Then I need to make a call.”

Jason Morgan’s day was about to get a whole lot worse.

Harborview Towers: Lobby

“You can say it until you’re blue in the face,” the guard at the security desk said, his expression stone-faced and unchanged. “You’re not going upstairs until I talk to Jason.”

Johnny scowled, leaned in, but Nadine tugged on his arm. “Being rude to the guy with the gun seems like a bad choice right now,” she hissed, and he looked at her with a mixture of bewilderment and frustration.

He needed to get Nadine somewhere safe before all hell broke loose. How long before the PCPD was able to tie them together? How long before his crazy family found out there was a witness to Johnny’s latest mess?

After what his father had tried to do to Lulu—after what he’d actually done to Johnny’s mother, the last thing Johnny needed was the blood of another woman on his hands.

There was no guarantee Jason would believe what had happened with Sonny had been in self-defense, but he knew Nadine would be safe with him. Jason wasn’t like the rest of them — he didn’t believe in collateral damage. In hurting innocents.

But if Jason wouldn’t even talk to Johnny, then how—

“Then call him now,” Johnny said flatly. “Because I need to talk to him. And he’s going to want to hear this.”

General Hospital: Conference Room

Audrey removed her reading glasses, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re telling me that, somehow, Elizabeth was intentionally dosed with warfarin to induce bleeding in hopes of killing her.” She looked to Patrick, then back to Jason. She set the chart on the table. “Patrick. What on earth is happening?”

“I don’t know yet. We knew there was an issue with the machines, but nothing has ever happened like this. I can’t understand how this could happen across two different floors—” Patrick took a deep breath. “I need to get Elizabeth out of here. I can’t take the chance that it was targeted against her.”

Jason avoided looking at Audrey, convinced that she would start to think she’d been right all along about Elizabeth and her safety around him. But the thought of lying to her, of coming up with a grand excuse as to why Elizabeth had to come home now, didn’t sit right with him. Not after the conversation they’d had.

Audrey exhaled slowly.  “All right. I can certainly look after Elizabeth at the penthouse provided you get me all the same equipment,” she told Jason, who looked up, startled at her easy agreement.  She hesitated. “We may need to discuss transportation — I don’t know how the elevator will work, but let’s get the materials first. Now, Patrick.” She focused on the chief of staff. “How do you plan to attack this problem? Since you’re asking Jason to arrange for the necessary materials to care for Elizabeth, I can only surmise that we’re not involving the authorities at the moment.”

“I…” Patrick swallowed. “Mrs. Hardy—I know you retired a few years ago, but I’m sure you know what happened after Jolene—”

“Yes. I know that the hospital was given an immediate jeopardy notice by the Joint Commission.” Audrey clasped her hands. “You fear what happens if we report this. That we’ll be closed.”

“I think we’ll lose our Medicare funding, that the research programs will close down and everything—” Patrick grimaced. “And that’s a domino effect that we can’t come back from. If this is a problem I can fix quickly and quietly, if Elizabeth is the only patient affected like this, I can’t bring myself to involve the authorities.”

“Elizabeth would probably agree with you,” Jason told Patrick, who nodded. “I don’t—I don’t mean to speak for her, and I’m not. But I know what this place means to her.” He paused, his throat tightening. “What it meant to my sister, and my father. They wouldn’t want this to jeopardize the hospital either.”

“My husband built the emergency department,” Audrey murmured. “He brought this institution into the modern age. It was the center of his world. Of mine, as well. If not for this hospital, perhaps Steve never learns that Jeff was his son. Maybe Elizabeth never comes into our lives,” she told Jason. She touched his hand, squeezed it gently. “And Monica and Alan? Their story is written in these walls. The good Emily would have done if we’d had her a little longer. General Hospital is more than the sum of its parts.” She looked to Patrick. “People come to us to care for them, to look after them. To save their lives if we can, or to let them go with grace. Jolene Crowell did irreparable damage to our mission, crippled our ability to build the next generation. When they eliminated the nursing program, oh, it broke my heart. It was my pride and joy, but that was necessary to save the whole. We’ll bring it back one day.”

She patted Jason’s hand again, then released it. “Now you’re telling me someone else may be attempting more sabotage, to once again threaten the future of this hospital.” She folded her reading glasses, placed them back in their case. “No. I won’t allow it. Whether this is a personal attack against my granddaughter or not, they’re using my hospital to do it. We cannot allow it to stand. You get me what I need to look after Elizabeth,” she told Jason, “And I want your promise—yours as well—” she said to Patrick, “that you’ll find out what happened so that we are never in this position again.”

“You have it,” Jason told her.

“I’ll get the equipment list you need,” Patrick said. He got to his feet. “I’m going to save the hospital, Mrs. Hardy. I promise.”

Audrey watched him go, then looked to Jason. “You didn’t have to include me in this,” she said, tilting her head. “I’m sure you could have hired a private nurse for Elizabeth. Whisked her away somewhere else. Found a way to explain it.”

“I—” Jason seemed unsure how to handle that question but settled on the truth. “You said it yourself. This hospital meant a lot to your husband. To Elizabeth’s grandfather. I know what it means to her. What you mean to her. And she should be with the boys while she gets better. I could never take her away from all of you. Or lie to you about what’s happening.”

Audrey studied for him another moment. “You continue to surprise me,” she said. She sighed. “I do wish Steve were here. He always knew what to do in a crisis. It would break his heart to see General Hospital under attack again.”

“I—” Jason’s cell rang and he frowned at the notification. It was the security desk at Harborview. “Wally?”

“Boss, we got Johnny Zacchara in the lobby demanding to see you.” There was a pause. “With some blonde—the one who made the news after the trial.”

Which probably meant Nadine Crowell, but Jason didn’t know what the hell Johnny wanted. “Tell him—wait.” He had another call incoming. He switched over when he saw the name. “Epiphany?”

“You have to get down to the ER. They just brought Sonny in. He’s been shot and it doesn’t look good.”

We say, yeah, with fists flying up in the air
Like we’re holding onto something that’s invisible there
‘Cause we’re living at the mercy of the pain and fear
Until we dead it, forget it, let it all disappear
Waiting for the end to come
Wishing I had strength to stand
This is not what I had planned
It’s out of my control
– Waiting for the End, Linkin Park

---

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

General Hospital: Emergency Room

Jason looked back at Leo Julian. “What happens next?” he asked, almost mechanically. The hospital was under attack and Elizabeth was in danger every moment she was here. Sonny had been shot. Johnny Zacchara was demanding Jason talk to him. Karpov was out there, stirring up trouble and unrest.

It didn’t seem to stop, and he didn’t know what to do with all of it or understand how it was connected because none of that even included the damned shooting at the church that had started it all.

“We’ve stabilized Mr. Corinthos for now,” Leo said, looking down at the chart. “And we’re getting an OR prepped. We need to see…” He looked at Jason. “The bullet wound to the chest didn’t hit anything vital, so we removed it in the trauma room. We’ll do a more exploratory look in the operating room to be sure there’s no internal bleeding. The real problem is the head wound. The bullet looks like it’s in the right occipital lobe, but it’s dangerously close to the cerebellum. And we don’t know what damage was done—we can’t do detailed imaging until we get it out.”

He understood the words, but it was as if they went right through him. Sonny had been shot in the head. The bullet was in his brain.

It was a nightmare that wouldn’t end, and he was right back where he’d been six months earlier, standing in this emergency room, listening as a doctor explained Michael’s condition.

“Who—” Jason stopped. Tried again. “Who’s doing the surgery?”

“I’ll be doing the exploratory on the chest, and Dr. Drake is scrubbing in on the head.” Leo hesitated. “He has that list you need for Elizabeth, so you don’t—”

“It’s…” He rubbed his mouth. “Yeah, no, that’s, um, fine. We’re…someone is sitting with her. Always. And no one—” The words were running through his brain, kept skittering and stopping. “Do I need to sign something?”

Leo handed Jason the form, and he scrawled his signature across the bottom. Jason handed it back. “Is—is he going to be…I mean, can you say—”

The doctor hesitated. “I don’t know,” Leo said finally. “Patrick’s an excellent neurosurgeon, you know that. But it’s a tricky surgery, and we won’t know until we get in there. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thank you.”

Leo left, and Jason went to find Carly, sitting blankly in the chair. He sat next to her, staring down at the floor.

“Another shot to the head, Jason,” Carly said, her voice dull, empty. She squeezed eyes shut, rested her elbows on her knees, leaning forward. “It’s happening again, and I’m getting all these flashes back to all that horribleness, and Patrick telling me my baby will never wake up. I go to visit him, Jason, and he just lays there, and everything that made him ours is gone—”

Jason touched her shoulder, and Carly shuddered. “How—how could Sonny—how could this be happening? I know he was upset about Kate. I know he was frustrated with you for being too focused on Elizabeth, but there were no guards. It’s exactly—” Her voice broke. “It’s exactly what he did six months ago. He took himself out into the world without any protection when he knew there was a chance someone wanted to hurt him, and now he’s lying in the hospital—and there’s a bullet in his goddamn head—”

She broke off, shook her head. “I’m so tired, Jason. And I can’t even begin to think what you’re dealing with. Elizabeth almost died today. And now this—” When Jason said nothing, Carly looked at him. “Jason?”

“I don’t know what I’m feeling,” Jason said carefully, because it was a true statement, but it also didn’t feel entirely honest. Carly didn’t know what was happening with the hospital or Elizabeth, and he couldn’t drop that on her — not with everything resurfacing with Michael.

And Jason had to consider the timing of the attempt on Elizabeth’s life. Patrick suspected the meds had been swapped last night — right around the time Andrei Karpov had showed up at Sonny’s, claiming he had a lead on Kate’s shooter that led directly to Johnny Zacchara.

And Elizabeth’s crisis had hit just as Sonny was demanding Jason do something about that — maybe Patrick was right and there were other issues at the hospital, but what if this attack had been deliberate to distract Jason from seeing to Sonny?

He had to get Elizabeth out of the hospital. And he needed to deal with Johnny Zacchara.

“I need to take care of things,” Jason told her. She looked at him, bewildered, a bit lost, but he didn’t have time to hold her hand. He didn’t have the space for that. He had to keep moving, to find out what the hell was going on, and how he could make it over. How could he make it all just stop?

She squeezed his hand. “You do what needs to be done. I can handle this. I’ll call my mother and ask her to pick up Morgan and Cameron from school. God. I’ll have to find a way to tell him about all of this.” She wiped her eyes, gathered herself. “I can do this. I have to do this. There’s just no other choice.”

Harborview Towers: Lobby

This was not how her day was supposed to go after she’d worked the overnight shift. Nadine had planned to grab some lunch, go home, and soak in a bubble bath because damn it, she’d earned it.

Instead, she’d been cajoled into offering romantic advice to Johnny Zacchara, then shot at, dragged from the pier, shoved into a car, driven around aimlessly and now—

For almost an hour, they’d been cooling their heels in the corner of the lobby at Harborview Towers, under the suspicious eyes of three security guards at the front desk.

Nadine nibbled at her thumbnail, the other four nails already bitten to the quick. She watched Johnny glare at his phone—it was flashing so she knew there was a call, but it must be on silent. He pressed a button on the side to make it stop.

“Avoiding someone?” she said, hoping it sounded like a tease or a joke, but it came out wobbly, and he looked at her. “The world, right? Same. Not by choice, but well—”

“They know.” Johnny shot another look at the desk, his foot tapping restlessly. “They all know what happened by now, so they know it was me, and they’re looking at me and my family is calling and I don’t know what the hell to do—” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Nadine bit her lip. “Are you sure I can’t just go home, and you go home, and we both pretend it didn’t—yeah, okay, I hear how stupid that sounds,” she muttered when he shot her an incredulous look. “Look, you can’t avoid your family forever. Didn’t you try that last year? I thought you said bad things happen when your family worries. You should tell them you’re all right.”

“I answer that phone, they’ll be able to find me. I’m not doing that until Jason promises to keep you safe.” Johnny shot to his feet, paced around the small seating area, restless.

“What would you be doing if I wasn’t with you today?” Nadine asked. “I mean, listen, maybe you just leave me here—”

“No. You don’t understand what my family can do if they find out about you.” Johnny shook his head. “Not happening.”

“Mr. Zacchara.” One of the security guards approached them, his expression unreadable. “Mr. Morgan has asked us to escort you upstairs. He’s been delayed but will be here as soon as possible.”

“Okay. Okay. Good. Let’s get this done.” Johnny looked at Nadine, held out a hand. “Let’s go.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling about all of this?” she muttered. Because she was involved, and everything she did always ended in catastrophe. That’s why Nikolas had told her it was exhausting to know her, and he hadn’t meant it as a compliment.

Zacchara Estate: Terrace

Claudia could hear her father’s rage-filled tirade even through the closed glass doors. She leaned against the stone railing overlooking the gardens and watched him in the study, screaming at Trevor.

All hell had broken loose about twenty minutes earlier when they’d learned about the shooting. Sonny Corinthos had been sent to the hospital with a bullet in the head, and Johnny wasn’t answering the phone.

Claudia looked down at the device in her hand, her jaw clenched. She pressed redial, lifted the phone to her ear again, listened as it rang. And rang.

And rang.

“Pick up. Pick up the damn phone—”

When the voicemail clicked in, Claudia closed her eyes and turned away from the house. “John, you better have a damn good reason for going off the grid right now. Daddy’s going through the roof, and I don’t know if Trevor can talk him down this time. So if you don’t want him to start razing things to the ground, you’d better call in. Damn it, John. You’d better be okay wherever you are.”

General Hospital: Elizabeth’s Room

Whatever Johnny Zacchara wanted to tell him—and how it involved Nadine Crowell — it would have to wait. Jason wasn’t going anywhere without making sure the security on Elizabeth’s room was rock solid. Audrey was sitting with her now, and she knew that no one but Epiphany or Patrick was allowed in the room to dispense medication.

One thing at a time. That was all he could handle right now. Getting Elizabeth out of this damn hospital was something he could control. Once she was home and safe, Jason could focus on everything else.

The top half of Elizabeth’s bed had been lowered slightly so that she was laying a little flatter. Her face was pale, strained, and Jason grimaced, realizing that the normal post-operative drugs she’d be on hadn’t been administered. Patrick had planned to do it himself, not trusting anyone else, but he’d been called to handle Sonny’s case.

“Jason.” Audrey rose, her expression strained. Elizabeth turned her face slightly so that she was looking in his direction, but every movement was stiff and tense. “We were hoping for an update about Mr. Corinthos.”

“Is Sonny okay?” Elizabeth managed. She bit her lip, then closed her eyes. “Gram, can you…I can’t find my call button.”

“Can you get Epiphany?” Jason asked Audrey. “Patrick’s in surgery. He can’t…”

“Of course.” Audrey touched Elizabeth’s arm, then left quickly.

“Jason. What’s going on? Something’s wrong. Everything hurts—and Sonny…” There were beads of sweat breaking on her upper lip, and he hurried to her side. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s…your grandmother is getting Epiphany—”

“She doesn’t…” Elizabeth swallowed hard. “She doesn’t do post-op. Please.” Her eyes were shadowed and tense. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” He sat in the chair, drew it as close to the bed as possible. “I can’t get into it all right now. I can’t. It’s not…there’s something going on. You’re right.” He dipped his head, hating every minute of this. It was her life that had been on the line — that still was — but she was in so much pain, and he didn’t know who was listening. “I promise. As soon as I can. Okay?”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then looked at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. Her hand raised in the air, found the side of his face. Her fingers were cool, dry. “Sonny?”

His breath caught, and he closed his eyes. “He’s in surgery,” Jason managed. “It’s not…I don’t know anything yet. I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry. What…can I do?”

He covered her hand with his, pressing it against his cheek for a moment, then kissed her palm. “Rest. Get better. I need you to be okay. The boys need you.”

“The boys.” She closed her eyes again, nodded. “Are they…if Gram is here…oh, God. Carly. Sonny was shot. Is she all right? Are they all right?”

“She’s…I don’t know. Cam is still at school, at least for a little while. Monica is with Jake, and Bobbie is going to pick up both boys. They’re okay. I promise.”

“Okay. Okay.” She grimaced, then bit her lip as her free hand fisted in the hospital blankets. “It really…it really hurts, okay? Why—” Elizabeth forced her eyes open, looked at him. “I’m…a surgical nurse. This isn’t right. Jason.”

He opened his mouth, but mercifully, he saw Audrey and Epiphany hurrying towards them. “It’s coming. Epiphany is here, okay? Let’s take care of this.” Jason stood and went to the door. “It’s bad,” he told the nurse. “Can you—”

“I’m sorry, I got caught up in the ER, I meant to be here—” Epiphany bustled past him, already carrying a syringe in her hand. She reached for Elizabeth’s IV line. “You should be feeling better in just a moment, Elizabeth.”

“But why…” Elizabeth’s words were already fading as the medication took effect. Jason took his first easy breath as he watched her visibly relax, then her eyes closed.

“She’s not an idiot, Morgan. When she wakes up, she’ll have questions,” Epiphany told him.

“As long as you’re here to give her another round of pain meds, she’ll be waking up at home and I can tell her anything she wants to know,” Jason said. He took a deep breath. “But I still have a lot to do before that can be done.”

General Hospital: Operating Suite

Patrick stripped off his gloves and gown, dumped them into the bin, then went to the sink to wash his hands. Next to him, Leo was already drying off.

“What are you going to tell them?”

“The truth.” Patrick looked through the window that looked into the operating room. Sonny had already been removed from the room, rolled to the post-op ward where he’d be monitored. He could dimly see his reflection in the glass.

“Are you…okay to do that? It’s been a pretty rough day.” Leo leaned against the sink, his back to the operating room window. “No one would blame you for passing it off to a nurse—”

“I’d blame me,” Patrick muttered. He shook off the excess water then went to dry his hands. “Six months ago, I told this family their ten-year-old would never open his eyes again. And now, I get to do it again. And that’s after Elizabeth almost died on my watch in my hospital—”

“In her hospital, too,” Leo said gently, and Patrick flashed him an irritated glance. “You took over as chief in July. How much crap have you been cleaning up? Ford let this place rot since the moment he took it over, and we all knew it. Whatever we think might be going on, there’s no doubt it started with him or because of him. And remember, we don’t even know for sure that anything is going on.”

“Leo—”

“We suspect, sure. But the only actual sabotage we can prove today is what happened to Elizabeth, who is very notably tied to Jason Morgan. Let’s take a deep breath, pull the ICU records, look at what we have, and get to the bottom of it. But put that aside right now—”

“I performed the surgery, Leo. I’m going to handle the rest of it. That’s my job. I can do my job.” Patrick jerked the door open and left.

After a moment, Leo followed him and ran into Matt Hunter leaving another operating suite. He stopped short of bumping into the younger man. “Hey—”

“Hey,” Matt said, watching the end of the hallway where Patrick was hitting the button for the elevator. “Dr. Wonderful couldn’t save the day?”

“Not much you can do with a bullet to the brain,” Leo said, making a face. “I don’t envy him the job of telling the family. Especially after April.” When Matt’s brow creased in confusion, Leo added, “I forgot you didn’t start until June. The patient — Sonny Corinthos. His ten-year-old son was shot in the head. Patrick’s case. He ended up in long-term care, basically no chance of waking up.” The beeper at his waist sounded, and he reached for it. “I have to go.”

General Hospital: Surgery Floor Waiting Room

Carly shook her head and pushed herself out of the chair to cross to the window. “I told you, Mac. Sonny and I barely speak right now. I have full custody of Morgan, and Michael…” She pressed her lips together, staring unseeingly at the street below. “Well, we don’t need a lot of communication there. I saw him a few days ago, but I honestly don’t know what was going on. And I still don’t.”

“He didn’t say anything about Kate’s shooting?” Mac wanted to know. He tapped his pencil against the notepad. “Maybe he wanted to get some help talking to Jason. I hear Jason’s spent a lot of time at the hospital. Maybe Sonny was frustrated by that.”

He had been, but Carly would never say a word. She half-turned. “Where would you expect Jason to be?”

“Since the majority of the world was unaware of his relationship with Elizabeth Webber, I don’t know if I really thought about it—”

Carly looked back out the window. “I can’t tell you what Sonny was feeling about any of this, but I hope he understood that Jason’s attention was exactly where it should be. On his family. When Jason wasn’t at the hospital, he was looking after the boys, making arrangements for them. Since Lucky just dumped them and ran.”

“Yeah, okay, fair enough. But—” Mac’s phone buzzed. “Give me a minute.” He stepped out to take the call. When the door opened again, Carly prepared for another round with the commissioner. Instead, Patrick stepped in.

“Patrick.” Carly took one step forward, then stopped, searching his eyes. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It’s…it’s…I’m on my way to tell Jason, but…” He grimaced, looked down at his hands. “Right now, we removed both bullets. But initial tests for function aren’t coming back with a lot of hope.”

There weren’t any tears left, Carly thought. Not after Michael. There was just cold, slowly sliding under skin until she couldn’t feel anything but the chill. “That could change, couldn’t it?”

“It could. He’ll need another surgery in a few days when the swelling goes down, I may be able to get some better results. But I’d be—” Patrick shook his head. “I don’t want to give you hope, Carly.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t.” She exhaled slowly. “All right then. When you tell Jason, let him know I went home. I have the boys until he’s ready to pick them up. There’s nothing left for me to do here.”

She left the waiting room, walking past Mac as he hung up from a call with Harper. Mac opened his mouth to call after her, then looked at Patrick. “Bad news?”

“Not great. If you’re hoping he’ll wake up to give you a suspect, you’ll be waiting a long time.”

Harborview Towers: Hallway

Johnny frowned when the guard escorting them upstairs made a right out of the elevator rather than a left — “Uh, where are we going?”

“Where you’re told, unless you want to leave.” The guard lifted a brow, gestured down a short hallway with a door that matched the layout leading to Jason’s place. “This is where Mr. Morgan wants you to wait for him.”

“Johnny, we could really just go—” Nadine said, tugging on his jacket sleeve. “Let’s just go—”

“No. No. This is the right choice.” Jason would believe him about self-defense, and he’d make sure Nadine was safe from everyone. He’d dragged her into this—

The guard shoved the door open, and Johnny went in first, flipping on a light switch. It was another penthouse, darkly decorated and furnished with a thin layer of dust. Across the room, next to the stairs, there was a wall of windows overlooking downtown Port Charles.

“What—” Johnny turned, but the door had closed behind the guard, leaving them alone. He cleared his throat. “This must be Sonny’s old place,” he said finally. “Lu told me he used to live across from Jason.”

“Oh. It reminds me of him.” Nadine wandered towards the large fireplace, with the heavy furniture. “Dark, brooding.” She bit her lip. “Kind of like you.”

“Can we hold off on comparing me to Sonny—” Johnny’s stomach tilted as he thought about the man he’d shot. He hadn’t aimed, hadn’t tried to kill him, but what if he’d hurt him badly? He didn’t want to be like his family—

There were footsteps in the hallway, and then the door opened. Jason stepped in, said something to the guard, then closed the door, leaving the three of them alone.

Jason looked at Nadine for a long moment before focusing on Johnny. “He shot at you first, didn’t he?”

The rush of relief as Johnny realized he’d been right flooded him. “I didn’t—I was just on the pier. I tried to leave, but I thought—I just wanted him to leave me alone. Leave us alone. ”

“He wouldn’t even let me walk away by myself,” Nadine said quietly, and Johnny looked at her. “Johnny really did try.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I figured as much.” Jason crossed his arms, his face hard to read. “Elm Street Pier. Broad daylight. Someone will have seen you.”

“That’s why I brought Nadine here. Because the cops are still pissed about the Hayes trial, and, uh—” Johnny slid Nadine a glance. “She didn’t make any friends then, either. So they’re not going to believe or care it was self-defense.”

“Not to mention your father. Or Claudia,” Jason added. He hesitated. “I can give some protection against them,” he said slowly. “But if someone saw you, Johnny, they saw her. And she’s still a witness.”

“But, like, can’t I just say no? I know what the PCPD will do with my information, they won’t listen to me, and I’ll end up in contempt again,” she muttered, folding her arms. “And I bet a second charge will be the one that does me in.”

“They can arrest you as an accomplice,” Johnny said. He dragged his hands through his hair. “Maybe you could go back to Iowa—”

Nadine scowled. “First of all, it’s Ohio, and I’m not picking up my whole life and running away—”

“I don’t have time for this,” Jason interrupted. “Figure out how to solve the witness thing on your own,” he told Johnny. “Until you do, stay here. If the cops knew where you were, they’d be here already. I have to deal with something else. When I get back, tell me what you want to do.”

“Well, wait—” Johnny started, but Jason was already leaving, and the door was slammed in his face. “That went well,” he muttered. “He didn’t even tell me how Sonny was—”

“Johnny.”

He turned back to face her solemn expression. “What?”

“Jason’s not worried about Sonny telling the cops about either of us.” She swallowed hard, her eyes wide. “I don’t think he’s okay.”

“I—” He grimaced, stripped off his jacket. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. She was right, of course. Jason hadn’t once mentioned Sonny. Not by name. Or by condition. Was Sonny dead? In a coma? Still in surgery? “What do you want to do?” he asked finally because she was the only innocent person in the room. And maybe she didn’t want to be around a violent killer.

“I want to go tell Mac and Harper that Sonny came after us. That he pulled a gun and took the first shot.” Nadine stepped towards him. “I want to believe in the cops I watched on TV growing up, you know? The good guys. But even if Mac or the PCPD believed me, there’s still Scott. And I don’t like the idea of you being dragged into court again for something you didn’t do.”

“I did this—” Johnny bit out. “You were there—”

“You were minding your own business, standing on the pier, and Sonny tried to kill you. So, what I want to do Johnny isn’t really a relevant question. We need to figure out something that keeps us both out of trouble.” She bit her lip. “We could both go to Ohio, I guess. Or you could go somewhere where they can’t make you come back.”

That was always an option, but if he ran now, he’d have to keep running, Johnny thought. And Nadine wouldn’t have much choice either — if he ran, she’d have to go, too. But how was he supposed to get her out of this mess? How did he keep her from being dragged into the PCPD—

Johnny looked at her. “You want to stay in Port Charles?”

She drew her brow together, suspicious. “Yes. Why?”

“Because I think…” He swallowed hard. “I think I know what to do. Jason said he can make sure you’ve got protection. But I know how to keep the PCPD from coming after you. From Scott Baldwin. And maybe my father, too. Maybe,” he added, because Anthony Zacchara was always unpredictable.

“Okay. What? What’s the plan? What do we have to do?”

“Spousal privilege.”

I’m looking for a place
I’m searching for a face
Is anybody here I know
‘Cause nothing’s going right
And everything’s a mess
And no one likes to be alone
Isn’t anyone trying to find me?
Won’t somebody come take me home?
– I’m With You, Avril Lavigne

---

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason closed the door behind him, slid the deadbolt across, then dropped his keys on the desk. He scanned the darkened room — there were little pieces of evidence that the penthouse was no longer inhabited only by him and Spinelli. A playpen had been moved into the corner by the windows, with a large cotton bag sitting next to it, toys spilling over the top.

The boys were home — Jason had picked them up from Carly after he’d left the coffee house and had brought them to Audrey, staying long enough to grab Johnny and Nadine and deliver them to the airport for their flight. He’d waited until they were safely on board, then departed. Now that the pair was in the air to Las Vegas, they were no longer his problem. He’d kept them out of sight while the dust from the shooting had settled, and now it would be up to them to keep their ruse straight and stay out of trouble.

He’d step in if it looked like Anthony was going to do something to Nadine, but Johnny had been smart to tie them together — unless Anthony had lost his mind again, he wouldn’t rock the boat by going after Johnny’s wife. Not with the double shootings still under investigation.

Jason had to rely on Trevor and Ric Lansing to keep Anthony under control — not a prospect he enjoyed, but just one more thing he didn’t have a choice about. Not with everything else that had happened since the wedding. Since this morning.

But the day was finally over. The sun had sunk below the horizon on the lake hours ago, and it was almost midnight. Time to let it go. If he could.

He climbed the stairs to the second floor, taking just a moment to open the door to the converted guest room.

Between the toddler bed and crib, there was a night light on the table leaving the room dimly lit. Cameron lay on his back, the sheets kicked off, half off the bed, the other half twisted under his body. Jason carefully adjusted it, tucking him back in before turning to the crib where sixteen-month-old Jake was also sleeping on his back, his mouth slightly parted.

It seemed almost like a strange dream, Jason thought, returning to the doorway and taking another moment to look back at the two boys fast asleep, safe and secure in Jason’s home. Not so long ago, he’d given up on ever having any real contact with his son, on being part of Cameron’s life. Michael’s tragedy had robbed him of that dream. Even with the changes Jason had made, part of him had never really truly believed he’d ever be able to bring them home.

And now, the penthouse was the only piece of Jason’s world that did feel safe. He’d tucked away nearly all the people left in the world that mattered to him. Elizabeth, her boys, Spinelli, and he’d dragged Elizabeth’s poor grandmother along for the ride. Audrey Hardy was essential to the people Jason loved, so she’d become essential to him.

Carly was across town, but her home was as safe as any could be — practically a fortress protecting her and Morgan. But that was it, Jason thought almost bleakly. The list ended there. So many others were gone now. Emily. Michael. And now Sonny.

Couldn’t really think about that yet. Had to keep moving forward. Jason turned away and headed for the last door down the hall, the master bedroom.

General Hospital: ICU Elevators

Spinelli carefully set his laptop bag down on the side table, then sat on the sofa next to Maxie who was curled up in a corner, her elbow propped on the arm of the sofa, her fist pressed against her mouth. “Maximista, you should really go home. Get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I know. I mean to, but—” she looked at him, her eyes red. “It’s just a lot, you know. I kept focusing on Kate waking up because I thought that would solve everything. Kate would know what to do. She’d make that horrible woman go away, she’d let Sonny come see her, and I don’t know—maybe I even thought she’d be able to fix Lulu.”

She sniffled, looked at the tissue crumbled in her other hand. “And Kate asked me, she asked me when does it stop? And I can’t answer that. It never seems to. It just goes on and on. The deaths. They never stop.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. “Jesse was shot in the head. You weren’t around—”

“The Jackal is aware of him. The ever Faithful Georgie told his tale.” Spinelli reached for her hand, set the tissue aside, then wrapped his fingers around hers. “The Jackal is sorry that such woe has fallen upon such undeserving shoulders.”

“I don’t know about undeserving,” she muttered. “There’s a reason you used to call me the Bad Blonde One. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I bring the death. Jesse and Georgie and Cooper and Logan—”

“The Glacial One hasn’t left the mortal plane, and well, Mr. Sir isn’t your responsibility, either—”

“But I could have done more. I could always do more. Or the right thing. I wanted to keep my job. I needed it. I needed my access, so I shut Sonny out, but maybe I could have done more. He came here, Sonny, I mean. He came to the hospital today, and Kate was awake. But I forgot to tell her Olivia blocked Sonny at the lobby, so he never got past the elevators. If I’d told her, she’d have changed that—” Her mouth quivered. “And I wouldn’t have had to tell her what happened. I could have done more.”

“Perhaps but Mr. Sir might have just had the tragedy befall him later, at another time. He was rather reckless, and the Jackal knows it has stressed Stone Cold to no end having to account for his unpredictability.”

“Maybe I could delayed it then. Maybe Kate would have had a chance.” Maxie let her feet fall to the ground, forced herself to smile at him. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe all of this was always going to happen. I just—I wish Lulu had been here. She’d have known what to do.”

“I also wish the Blonde One was with us,” he said. “But until she returns, the Jackal fears it’s just you and me.” He got to his feet, held out a hand. “Let me give you a ride home.”

“Yeah, okay. Will you stay with me tonight?” Maxie asked, looping her purse over her shoulder. “I don’t—I don’t want to be alone.”

“Anything for you, Maximista.” Spinelli put his arm around her and walked her towards the elevators.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth heard the door close down the hall. She planted her elbows on the mattress and grimaced, lifting her upper body slightly so that she wasn’t lying flat on her back anymore. When Jason opened the door and saw her, his eyes widened, and he rushed forward. “You shouldn’t be sitting up—”

“It’s—” she winced. “It’ll be fine—can you—a pillow or something—”

Jason put a pillow behind her, giving her another source of support. “Your grandmother thought you’d sleep through until morning,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

“Mmm, I asked her not to give me another sedative—I know when I’m being drugged,” she added, and he sighed. “I don’t need to sleep, Jason. I need answers.”

He stared down at the carpeted floor, his fingers almost digging into the mattress. His shoulders were tight, tense. “I know.”

“I had more surgery,” Elizabeth said. “But you checked me out of the hospital — with help.” She gestured at the IV still in her arm, at the metal stand next to the bed where a bag of fluids was half filled. “Epiphany gave me pain meds herself — and a sedative strong enough that I didn’t even know I was leaving the hospital.” She bit her lip. “And my grandmother is cooperating with it. That tells me something is really wrong. I should have been in the hospital for another two or three days. Minimum. Whatever is happening, it’s bad, isn’t it?”

“It could be,” Jason said finally. He looked at her. “But you’re safe here. You and the boys. I promise. I never would have brought you here otherwise. Or your grandmother.”

“I never doubted that.” She touched his arm—the muscles beneath his shoulder were almost like stone to the touch. “I know we talked about all of this before—before whatever happened to me today. I know we were planning this, and that Gram was going to come. I just don’t understand why it had to happen now. This way.” She lifted her wrist to emphasize the IV.

“I guess maybe I’m just…I’ve been unconscious for a lot of this, you know. I feel like my head is spinning, and every time I wake up, something dreadful has happened. First, Lucky took off to California, and dumped the boys on Gram, and then…” Her voice faltered. “Sonny? How is he?”

“They don’t—” Jason tilted his face to the ceiling. “Patrick didn’t want to say it, but he doesn’t expect Sonny to wake up. There’s another surgery in a few days, but…”  He shook his head. “He went after Johnny on the pier, and there was…it was self-defense,” he said slowly. “Johnny came to me. He wanted me to know. To protect Nadine. She was with him, so she was a witness,” he added.

And how terrible it must have been for Jason to agree — to offer protection to the man responsible for putting Sonny in a hospital bed, even if Johnny had only been protecting himself and Nadine. Elizabeth stroked his shoulder, wishing she could take him in her arms, hold him tight. But she couldn’t.

There was more to all of this, of course, because what had happened with Johnny and Sonny didn’t explain why Elizabeth had been whisked out of the hospital, almost certainly with both Epiphany and Patrick’s approval. But maybe it was enough for the night. If she was overwhelmed by how much she’d missed while unconscious, how would it have felt to have lived through every minute of the last few days?

“What can I do?” she asked, and he looked at her again, his eyes hard to read in the dimly lit room. “What do you need from me?”

“I just…I want to lay down, close my eyes, and wake up next to you in a few hours,” he admitted, and she smiled.

“Well, that’s something I can handle. Get changed, and we’ll both try to get some sleep.” She clutched at his shirt then, pulling him towards her. Jason dipped his head down, kissed her lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Las Vegas, Nevada

Las Vegas Boulevard

Nadine stepped out of the taxi, casting her eyes dubiously at the little wooden building in front of her, before turning back to look at the Strip, all lit up with bright, flashing signs. “This is the place?”

“Yeah.” Johnny shoved some cash at the cab driver. “The guy at the airport said it did 24-hour weddings, and it’s across from the Mandalay—” he gestured absently at the large building across the street and down the block a little — a towering white building with its name etched into the exterior.

They’d stopped at the Marriage License Bureau on the way in from the airport — which was, according to the sign, open until midnight every day of the year, and then Johnny had given the driver a new address. And now here they were, in front of a wooden church that looked like it had been ripped from an episode of Green Acres or Beverly Hillbillies — or one of Aunt Rayleen’s other favorite Western television shows from Nick at Nite.

“You ready?” Johnny asked, holding out a hand.

“I thought I was,” she murmured. A four-and-a-half-hour flight, another thirty minutes in the airport — then twenty more to get to the chapel — she’d been numb, maybe. Or not ready to confront the insanity of what she was about to do. Now there was no choice except to face the reality of her situation.

She was going to marry Johnny Zacchara in Las Vegas so he could avoid being railroaded into another murder charge and to maybe offer her some vague protection from his crazy family.

“Nadine?” Johnny prompted. He dropped his hand, shifting so that he fully faced her now. His face was hidden in the shadows, lit only from the back by the chapel. The sights and sounds of the Strip were still a few blocks away. “If you don’t want to do this—”

“Want is such an interesting word,” she said. “You know, I’ve never been married before. Never even came close. So, no, I don’t want to get married tonight, Johnny. Do you?”

He sighed. “No. No, I don’t.” He closed the distance between them, reached for her hands. “But here’s what I do want.” She could see his face more clearly now that he was standing closer, and his eyes held her attention with that intensity that always caught her by surprise. “I want you to be safe. And I want to avoid being locked up again.” His voice faltered for just a moment, and Nadine wondered if he was thinking about the padded room he’d talked about earlier instead of his time in the PCPD lockup awaiting trial. “What about you?”

“I want…” She sighed. “To live in a world where these aren’t the choices, so maybe that’s not really helpful. I guess I want you to be treated fairly. The system is supposed to protect us, and that’s not what happened with you. And maybe if Scott hadn’t pushed Lulu, none of this would be happening right now. You didn’t want to hurt Sonny. You shouldn’t be punished for what happened. I want to protect you from that. And maybe I also want to avoid your father blaming me for anything again,” she added. “So I guess that means we have to get married.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what it means.” Johnny dropped one of her hands, but kept the other entwined in his, walking her towards the door. “Do you want an Elvis or Johnny Cash impersonator to marry us instead of the minister? Apparently, there are options if we pay extra.”

Nadine considered it — and shook her head. “Maybe it’s silly,” she said as he ushered her into the lobby. “But it’s my first wedding. I kind of want it to be a minister. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” He squeezed her hand. “Yeah, me, too. Let’s get married.”

“So romantic,” she teased, and he flashed her a quick grin before stepping over to the desk to make the arrangements.

They opted for the basic package — they didn’t have any guests, and Nadine argued when Johnny wanted to pay extra so that she’d have a full bouquet of roses rather than one single one — they compromised with seven pink blooms.

And then he was walking her down the aisle towards the minister — without music because apparently a true walk down the aisle was another surcharge. Nadine was almost relieved when she realized he’d chosen the version of the vows where all they’d have to do is answer “I do” instead of repeating every line — there was something that felt a bit wrong about saying the words she didn’t really intend to honor —

But before she knew it, the minister had completed the ceremony, and Johnny was looking at her — and she was looking at him—he kissed her—just a brief brushing of their lips which gave her some relief. She’d been a bit frazzled by what happened at the penthouse, and it was better to start this whole thing the way she meant to continue — just business.

And then they were married.

Jacks House: Morgan’s Bedroom

Carly slid Morgan’s dangling foot back onto the bed, tucking it beneath the covers. She stroked his hair just once before heading to the door and gently pulling it shut.

Since that terrible day in April, she’d woken randomly throughout the night with the urge to look in on Morgan, to breathe him in, to remind herself that he was okay. That he was healthy and not lying in a bed with little hope of ever waking.

Just across from Morgan’s bedroom, Michael’s door was firmly closed. Carly touched it with the tips of her fingers, then twisted the doorknob.

Other than a few days earlier, when she’d found Morgan in here, Carly had only been in the room a few times— the cleaning service had been asked to do nothing more than dust and vacuum — Carly wanted everything Michael had touched to remain exactly where he’d left it.

As if her baby would come home to her and pick up the shoes he’d left strewn across the carpet or finally remember to put away the stack of clean laundry that had been left atop his dresser.

Carly sank onto the bed, sitting in the dark, the silence of the house wrapping around her. It had been such a horrible year, she thought. Starting all the way back with the death of Leticia, the nanny who had been with her boys almost since Michael had been born. Then Carly had had her miscarriage—then they’d lost Michael—

She’d broken her marriage by making a terrible mistake with Sonny, and Jax had left her.  Now Sonny was lying in a hospital bed, just like the son they’d lost.

She closed her eyes. She hadn’t told Morgan yet what had happened to his father. He’d had a great day at school, and he’d been so excited that his new best friend was going to come over and play. How could she wipe that smile from his face?

Another loss for her little boy — how did you begin such a conversation? At what point did Morgan just close himself off and stop letting himself love anyone? Leticia, Michael, Jax, Sonny — all these people her baby had lost in such a short time.

Carly wiped at tear as it slid down her cheek and looked at the photo frame on Michael’s nightstand. At Christmas — Carly on a sofa with her arms around both her boys, Jax smiling, an arm stretched behind them both.

It seemed like another universe. A life that only existed in her dreams now.

Tomorrow, she’d have to tell Morgan. Before he heard it from someone else, Carly had to make sure he knew.

But she’d let him have one more sleep before the world broke apart again.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

There was a light sound coming from the baby monitor on Jason’s nightstand, and he jerked awake—unused to hearing the stirring of a baby. It had been so many years since he’d listened for Michael in the night, he thought, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

He glanced over to see Elizabeth still sleeping, her breathing deep and even, filling the silence of the dark room. He switched off the monitor so it wouldn’t wake her while he was gone.

Jason crossed the hall, listening for a moment to the rest of the penthouse — then pushed open the door to the boys’ room.

Nothing woke Cameron up — something Jason remembered Elizabeth telling him. Her oldest son slept like the dead, a trait he’d inherited from his mother, Jason thought, though Cam had turned over since Jason had last seen him. He now slept on his stomach, his face almost smushed into the pillow, the sheets kicked off again.

In the crib, Jake was sitting up, his face scrunched. “Hey,” Jason said softly, though he was a bit wary. Jake didn’t really know him — and maybe he’d be startled by Jason in his room in the middle night when he was likely expecting a more familiar face. His grandmother, his mother.

Or Lucky.

Jake lifted himself onto his chubby legs, his hands gripping the sides of the crib. “Mom.” He lifted one leg up, then brought it down. “Mom,” he repeated. “Mom.”

“I can take you to your mother,” Jason said. He lifted his son into his arms, and Jake went easily, pointing at the door. “Yeah, Mom’s across the hall. Let’s go before we wake your brother.”

“Cam sleep.” Jake peered over Jason’s shoulder as they went to the door. “Mom.”

Jason carried Jake back into the master bedroom, then switched on the night stand light with one hand. “Mom’s asleep,” he said softly, setting Jake onto the bed. The toddler crawled across the king size bed to his mother, frowning when he saw the metal IV stand next to her. He pointed at it.

“Mom?” Jake said, his tone puzzled.

Elizabeth’s eyelashes fluttered, then she blinked, smiling blearily. “Jake.”

“Mom!” Jake bounced, clapped his hands, clearly delighted. “Mom. Mom.”

Jason sat on the bed, ready to reach for Jake if he moved too quickly or close to Elizabeth, but she was already trying to sit up. Jason put the pillow behind her and she smiled at him.

“I got hurt, baby,” Elizabeth said, “so be careful. Jason—can you—”

Reluctantly, because he’d rather Elizabeth not move at all for few more days, Jason helped Jake snuggle in on Elizabeth’s left side, keeping the right where she’d had her surgery safe . He sighed happily, leaning against her shoulder.

“Mom. Miss.”

“I missed you too.” With her left hand, she stroked his hair. “But you had Gram and Cam and Morgan—”

“An Car.” Jake’s little fingers traced a button on his mother’s sleep shirt. “Mawgin’s mom. An Car.”

“Aunt Carly,” Jason said, with a little wince when Elizabeth looked at him. “When they found out Bobbie is Carly’s mother…”

“Ah, that explains it.” She smiled ruefully. “Did you have fun with Aunt Carly and Morgan?”

“Big room. Toys. Miss you.”

“I missed you, too,” Elizabeth repeated. “But I’m here now, and you get to be with Jason now.” She bit her lip, met Jason’s eyes. “You know him, don’t you?”

“Mom friend.” Jake’s head turned. “Jayse.”

“He has another name you can call him,” Elizabeth said.

“You don’t have—” Jason started, but she waited for Jake to look at her again.

“He’s your daddy.”

Jake’s little face scrunched up again. “Daddy?”

“Jason’s your daddy because he…” She paused, searching for the right word. “He gave you to me. And he’s going to be part of our family from now on.”

Jake was young enough that anything his mother told him was accepted, so he rolled over so that he was facing Jason now, though still snuggled against Elizabeth. “Daddy? You?”

Jason’s throat was a little tight, and he found it difficult to force words out. He hadn’t expected this tonight—but maybe he’d needed this moment. This little piece of normal. Apart from all that had gone wrong today —

He needed this moment with just the three of them for the first time since the day Jake had been born. “Yeah. That’s me. Daddy.”

“Okay.” Jake sighed, then closed his eyes. “Sleep here?”

“Yeah, you can sleep here,” Elizabeth said, stroking his hair again, and his breathing evened out. “I should have warned you — he sometimes gets up in the middle of the night, has a short conversation, then goes right back to sleep.” She smiled wistfully. “He reminds me of you, you know. You always dropped right off to sleep. No trouble.”

Jason carefully laid down on his side, propped his head up on an elbow, just watching Jake sleep, watched Elizabeth stroke his hair. “You didn’t have to do that tonight.”

“Yeah, I did.” She met his gaze, and he saw the regret there. “For all the nights I didn’t. You love him so much, and I want him to know that.”

“Thank you.”

“I missed my boys so much.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “But they’re here, and they’re safe. That’s all I need.”

Her final words were quiet, and Jason wondered if he realized that she’d done just as Jake had — woken for a conversation, then right back to sleep.

When he was sure that they were both deep in sleep, Jason gently repositioned them so that Jake couldn’t roll into his mother and hurt her, and so that Elizabeth was laying down again.

Then he switched off the light, turned back on the baby monitor in case Cameron needed him, and laid down to sleep.

Mandalay Bay Resort: Hotel Room

Johnny switched on the light, illuminating a large beige room with blue accents and a king-sized bed dominating the area.

Nadine slid in behind him, rubbing her eyes. He remembered now she’d worked the overnight shift the night before — and had been working twelve hour shifts straight for at least few days. He’d dragged her across country without even a change of clothing —

Which was why she was carrying a bag from one of the shops still open on the casino’s main floor with clothes to change into the next morning, and something to sleep in. He had his own bag which he set down.

“It’s nice,” Nadine said, going over to the window, peering out over the bright lights of the strip.

“Sorry. I would have gotten a double—”

“But someone might have looked at what room we booked,” Nadine finished, tugging the curtains over the windows, blocking out the obnoxious casinos. “You said so down at the front desk. It’s fine. A bed is a bed.”

Johnny dragged a hand through his hair, watched as Nadine glanced around the rest of the room, disappeared into the bathroom for a minute. Nadine. His wife. Hell. After all the debate whether or not to get married—

They hadn’t really talked about what happened after the wedding. He’d told her they’d sell this whole thing as an impulsive decision based on lust, and he’d kissed her to prove they could do it—

Now, they were married and in a hotel room with one bed—

Nadine emerged from the bathroom. “Uh, we should probably get some sleep. Or I will since I haven’t slept in more than twenty-four hours. And before you say something stupid like you’ll take the couch or floor,” she began when he opened his mouth, “that’s a king-sized bed. I promise you, I’m so tired I won’t even notice you’re there.”

“That’s flattering,” he said, hoping it sounded like a joke, and she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. And then maybe tomorrow—”

“Tomorrow will be there when we wake up,” she said firmly. She picked up her bag from the casino clothing store. “We can have all the conversations about what’s next after I’ve slept and had an infusion of caffeine.”

“Smart. Good.”

She closed the door behind her, and Johnny sat on the edge of the bed staring at his hand. The chapel had even featured a selection of rings, so now he wore a thick gold band around his left ring finger. He twisted it, the feeling of it odd against his skin. He was married, and this was proof. The tiny ring with the fake diamond on Nadine’s hand—he would have to replace it, he thought, kicking off his shoes. No one would believe he’d buy his wife a cheap diamond—

Lulu’s face popped in his head, maybe for the first time in a few hours, and Johnny closed his eyes, thinking about her. She’d understand, Johnny thought. She’d grown up adjacent to this life, so she’d understand why it would have to be this way—

Though maybe Lulu wouldn’t really understand why Johnny had kissed Nadine or she’d kissed him back. That was the problem with acting on impulse all the damn time, he thought. He’d promised to go to the wedding with Lulu, and she had refused to let go of it. Instead of checking with her family, thinking it through — he’d offered it, and she’d been so happy, he’d ignored all the red flags and warnings.

Now she was locked in her own mind, and Johnny had gone on to make more rash and stupid choices. Showing up at the hospital, hoping for another chance to make his case — dragging Nadine to the pier to listen to his sob story—

What was the result of that? They were in Vegas, married, and there still weren’t any guarantees Nadine would be safe from all the chaos he’d dragged her into—

“Did you need the bathroom?”

Johnny jerked out of his thoughts at her voice, glancing over to see her standing in the doorway to the bathroom, wearing a soft pink tank with thin straps, a matching pair of sleep shorts — her face was clean—though she hadn’t been wearing makeup, he realized now that he thought about it—

“No. No. I mean, yes. I need to change. But no.” Johnny got to his feet, yanked his own bag of clothes up and went towards the door. They brushed past each other, and Nadine stumbled slightly, her cheeks pinking up. “Um, go ahead to bed. I’ll be there—I mean, you don’t have to wait up—”

“Right. Right.” She bit her lip and darted away, hurrying around to the other side of the bed. Johnny closed the door, dumped the bag on the counter, then splashed some cold water on his face before looking at himself in the mirror.

“You are an idiot.”

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.

Something I’ve done that I can’t outrun
Something I’ve done that I can’t outrun
Maybe you should wait, maybe you should run
But there’s something you’ve said that can’t be undone
And you fall away from your past
But it’s following you
You fall away from your past
But it’s following you, now
– Fall Away, The Fray

---

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Penthouse: Living Room

“Well, what if we just wait for the cops to come to us?” Nadine wanted to know, and Johnny shook his head, irritated with himself for getting them both in this situation and with her for being too stubborn to see this was the best answer—

“They’d never believe we didn’t do this to avoid questioning.” Johnny took another deep breath — something he was quickly getting used to. You had to think twice with Nadine because she was usually rambling and talking circles around you— “You know, this is a real hit on the ego,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Didn’t think I’d have to beg someone to marry me.”

Nadine scowled. “You’re joking about this? You can’t be serious. You shot someone, Johnny! Why doesn’t that bother you?”

“It—” The brief attempt at a smile faded and his stomach rolled. He didn’t want to think about it. Was doing everything he could to avoid it. “It does. I just—I didn’t want to do it. I don’t want to hurt anyone—”

“You have a gun. People who carry a gun want to hurt people,” Nadine muttered. She crossed her arms, looked away. “Why else would you bother?”

“To protect myself—” Johnny pressed his lips together. She didn’t know him. Not really. She could never understand, but if he was ever going to have a chance to convince her, he had to try to explain it. “The last time Sonny caught me unarmed, he tossed me into a padded room for a few weeks, okay? I wasn’t going to let that happen again—”

“Wait. What? What are you talking about?” Nadine came towards him, her blue eyes wide again. “When was this?”

“It was—earlier this year.” He looked away. “When Kate was shot the first time and Michael went missing. Sonny blamed me for both crimes. He refused to believe it wasn’t me, and when I wouldn’t tell him where Michael was, he tossed me in an abandoned mental institution complete with padded walls,” Johnny retorted. “And I nearly lost my damn mind. So, yeah, Nadine, I started carrying protection so it couldn’t happen again—”

“I didn’t…I’m sorry—”

“We can’t all be lucky enough to grow up in Indiana with the cows,” Johnny muttered. He wandered over to the windows, stared out over the city.

“It’s Ohio, and there weren’t that many cows.” Nadine exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I am. I expect people to react like I do, and when they don’t, I judge them for it. I just—I don’t want to do this, Johnny. I don’t like to lie to people. I don’t like to hurt them. I’m a nurse. I’m supposed to be the person you trust, you know? And if I do this, it’s throwing out so many things I believed in. Right and wrong. They’re not just words to me.”

“I know that.”

“And back home, stuff like this is black and white,” she continued, joining him at the window. “If you get hurt, you tell the people who help. The police, the doctors. And if you hurt someone else, you get punished. But maybe I just saw what I wanted to see. Because Jolene grew up in the same house, the same town, and she…” Nadine’s gaze skittered away, and he found himself studying her profile. “Ever since we found out what she did, I had to wonder how I couldn’t see it before. She’s my sister. And she’s done terrible, awful things. I came to Port Charles because I wanted to put good back into the world. I wanted to do it where she did her damage. And instead, it’s like I keep making it worse. I tried to help Nikolas, but he just got mad at me all the time. And I tried to help you, but I ended up in jail—” She bit her lip.

“I don’t know your world, Johnny. And maybe I can understand that, for you, this makes sense and keeps me safe. But it makes me part of your world—I don’t know if you get to just step back out, you know? We can tell ourselves what you’re asking me to do isn’t a real marriage, but it is, okay? It’s paperwork and contracts and it’s putting my name next to yours for a long time. It’s not something you decide in a minute. Or because someone’s screaming at you that it’s the only option. It’s not the only option, Johnny. It just…” She sighed. “It looks like it might be the best one. For both of us.”

“You—” Johnny began, but the door behind them opened, and Jason stepped inside. “Uh, hey.”

“Did you decide what to do?” Jason asked, his hand still gripped on the edge of the door. “What’s it going to be?”

“We’re going to need tickets to Vegas,” Nadine said, facing Jason. “Johnny asked me to marry him, and I said yes. Can you help us with that?”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Fifteen minutes later, Jason closed the door to his own penthouse and found Audrey descending the stairs. “Hey. Is she—”

“All settled in and still resting.” Audrey rolled the sleeves of her sweater to the elbow, crossing to the living room sofa where there was still another bag to unpack. “I’m going to sit with her until she wakes.” She glanced at him. “Unless that’s something you want to do—she’s going to have a lot of questions, and you may be better equipped to handle those. We still have a few hours before Bobbie is going to bring the boys home.”

And number one on the list would be why she’d been discharged from the hospital less than six hours after surgery. “Yeah, I—” He grimaced when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. “Hold on.”

“I’ll be upstairs.” Elizabeth’s grandmother disappeared around the landing, and Jason flipped the phone open.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Jason. I know you said you didn’t want to be bothered but there’s something that’s come up,” Cody said. “I could be there in ten minutes—”

“No. No—” Jason grimaced. There were too many pieces in motion now, too many that he couldn’t control. Patrick and Spinelli at the hospital, Elizabeth recovering from major surgery at the penthouse instead of the hospital, the boys who deserved a normal life, Johnny and Nadine across the hall, Sonny in the hospital—

He just wanted it all to stop, but that wasn’t an option. “I’ll come to you. Just wait for me.”

He put his phone away, took a deep breath, then went to tell Audrey that he had to go out. Again.

General Hospital: Kate’s Hospital Room

“No, no, no—” Kate winced, trying to slide to the side. “Get me a wheelchair—now!” she ordered when Jax remained still. “Jax, I’m telling you—”

“Honey, you’re going to open your stitches,” Olivia said, hovering over her cousin’s bed. “Connie, please—”

“My name is Kate!” And then her face crumbled, tears sliding down her cheeks, her eyes blood shot. “Damn it, Olivia! Damn you all to hell! My name is Kate!”

Maxie stood by, wringing her hands. She didn’t know how to fix this. Didn’t know how to make it stop, and she didn’t like not knowing the next step. She’d told Kate about Sonny, and after that, it had all crumbled. “Kate, you really should try not to jostle too much. Patrick said he’d come by and tell you anything you needed to know, right? And we have to wait for him—he’ll tell you if it’s okay to get out of bed—”

“Listen to Maxie,” Jax said, coming forward finally. He gently pushed her shoulders back and Kate laid flat, closing her eyes, her chest still heaving from the force of her sobs. “You’ll do no one any good if you hurt yourself—”

“You should have let him see me—” Kate opened her eyes, looked at him. “You were supposed to be my friend.”

“I am—”

“No, no, no, my friend would have known—my friend would have let my fiancé through the door. This happened because of me, didn’t it?”

“We don’t know that—”

Maxie opened her mouth because, well, they did know that. Sonny had been downstairs asking to come upstairs, but Olivia had refused him. Kate didn’t know that part, and Maxie wasn’t in a hurry to tell her. Bad enough she’d had to tell Kate about the head shot and not waking up —

Better to keep quiet about where Sonny had been just before the pier. Even Maxie knew that.

“Sonny just wanted to know you were okay,” Maxie said finally. She pushed Olivia aside, took Kate’s hand. “That’s all he wanted to know the whole time. So let’s just focus on that. He wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself worrying about him. I’ll call Patrick. Make him hurry.”

“When does it stop?” Kate asked. She opened her eyes. “When does it end? The violence, the death, the terror—Michael, me, Sonny—there’s always more, isn’t there?”

“I know it seems that way,” Maxie began, but then she faltered. Because it was that way. The murders last year — Emily and Georgie. Cooper. Then Logan—and Lulu. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “It seems that way, but we can’t lose hope. You should rest, okay? I’ll find Patrick.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac closed the door after Harper entered, his expression somber. “Sonny’s not expected to recover. He’s breathing on his own, but they don’t expect him to wake up, barring a miracle.”

“Hard to believe.” Harper leaned against Mac’s desk. “After all this time, all the times he’s had bullets put in him — someone finally gets him.” He waited for a beat. “Security footage from Elm Street gave us a bit of a lead, but not really the smoking gun. About forty minutes before the first 911 calls came in, Johnny Zacchara and Nadine Crowell are caught on the corner of the camera, heading for Bannister’s Wharf.” He tapped his pencil against the notepad in his hand. “I checked at Kelly’s, and they were there for lunch maybe twenty minutes before. But after that — nothing. None of the cameras were pointing at that part of the pier. No reason, too. There aren’t any businesses.”

Mac sighed, rubbed his face. “Nadine Crowell. I should have known. What’s she doing having lunch with Johnny Zacchara?”

“Well, rumor had it she was dating Nikolas Cassadine who just took off to California with Spencer.” Harper lifted his brows. “Maybe she and Johnny Z are commiserating over their love lives. Or lack of. Lulu Spencer isn’t doing well, either.”

“Maybe. Any sign of Johnny or Nadine after the shooting?”

“No. And we can’t do much with what we have. Hospital says Nadine worked four twelve-hour overnight shifts — so she’s off for three days now. I stopped by the apartment building where she lives, but didn’t get an answer on the intercom. As for Johnny Z, he doesn’t have an address in town, and I can’t do much but put in a call to Lansing the younger to request an interview.” Harper made a face. “I’m not counting on a yes from him.”

Mac sank into his desk, rested his chin on his hands. “Morgan wasn’t helpful either. Claims he last saw Sonny this morning before he got called into the hospital. I stopped by the Towers, and the security guard confirmed it. Morgan left around nine this morning, and Sonny left about ten minutes later.”

“But doesn’t show up until two hours later on the pier, shot.” Harper took a moment. “Are we more curious about this car accident Elizabeth Webber was in? The timing of all of this—right after the church shooting, right before this one—”

“I’ll have to talk to whoever investigated what happened on Saturday, but I skimmed the report — that looks like a solid DUI situation.” Mac paused. “This is the first time Morgan has been linked with Elizabeth since what happened on the bridge with Diego Alcazar.”

“If that accident was to distract Morgan, they’d have to be in the inner circle to know she was in the picture, right? Could be someone close. What do we know about this setback? That timing was guaranteed to keep Morgan from focusing on whatever Sonny was up to.”

“Nothing. Elizabeth’s condition isn’t a matter of law, so unless they hand over her medical records, we might never know. Morgan mentioned a possible discharge, so maybe not that serious.”

Harper shook his head. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t smell right.”

“Well, until we can get Nadine or Johnny into an interrogation room and see what they have to say, we don’t have much to go on right now.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth’s eyes flickered at the sound of voices, and she licked her lips, slowly becoming aware that something was different. The…sheet beneath her fingers felt smoother. Softer. Her other hand brushed the material covering her abdomen…it wasn’t the rough cotton of the hospital gowns, but…

And…the lighting. It was dim. The shadows were different. She forced her eyes open, trying to focus on the figures across the room. “Gram…Jason?”

The voices stopped, and Jason came into focus. He knelt beside the bed, reached for her hand, and brought it to his lips. “Hey. I didn’t think you’d wake up just yet. Are you in any pain?”

“No…just…my throat is dry.” Elizabeth’s lashes fluttered again, but she tried to force them back open. “Am I…this is…” His bedroom. She’d only been here a handful of times. “Jason…”

“You’re home with me. I’m going to pick up the boys and bring them to you. Your grandmother is here to take care of you.”

“Home…” The word felt strange on her lips. Home was the house on Lexington Avenue, wasn’t it? But she wanted it to be with him, and that meant the penthouse, didn’t it? But then…the hospital? “Why…here? Didn’t…I have…surgery?”

“Not right now, darling,” Audrey said, her voice drifting to Elizabeth from behind Jason’s hazy figure. “Rest a little longer.”

“Mmm….” Her eyes closed, and this time she gave in to the pull of sleep.

Jason reluctantly got to his feet, keeping her hand clasped in his until the last minute. He’d wanted this, he thought, for so long. Elizabeth in his bed, the boys down the hall, and now he couldn’t even let it sink in. She was in his bed, yes, but hooked up to an IV after major surgery and nearly dying only hours earlier. This wasn’t how she was supposed to come home. None of this was happening the way he’d planned.

“You’d better take care of whatever you need to do,” Audrey said, drawing his attention. “The sedative Epiphany gave her at the hospital is going to wear off fully in a few hours. I think she’d rather hear what’s going on from you. You’ll want to be back.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” She was right, Jason knew that. But that didn’t mean he was any happier about having to leave just when he’d brought her home, still unconscious from all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

If Jason wanted to be sure he was here when Elizabeth woke up again, he needed to deal with Cody, make sure Johnny was on his way to Vegas, and the boys were tucked away here where it was safe.

“I’ll be back in a little while, and I’ll pick the boys up from Carly’s, save Bobbie the trip. I know you’re doing it for her,” Jason said, stopping at the doorway, looking back at Audrey. “But thank you.”

“She and those boys are my whole world, Jason. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”

General Hospital: Locker Room

Patrick tugged the scrub top over his head, balled it up, and shoved it in his locker until he could drop it in the laundry on his way out the door. It had been a long shift, he thought, and it was going to be an even longer night going over the ICU files.

Robin had been horrified to learn that Elizabeth’s setback had been deliberate medical sabotage, and she’d already taken the files home to get a head start. He hated that she was involved, that she was thinking about all of this instead of herself, her health, and their child, but Robin’s pesky determination to do the right thing was one of the things he loved about her.

Most of the time.

The door creaked open behind him, and Patrick glanced over his shoulder, going still when he realized it was Matt rounding the first row of lockers. The younger man also halted, freezing when they locked eyes.

…I think you might want to think about giving yourself permission to forgive Matt for existing.

Elizabeth’s words echoed in Patrick’s head, and he sighed, looked back at his locker, then reached for the shirt he’d stowed inside. “You called Robin.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Matt muttered. “I regretted it almost immediately. So if you want to be pissed—”

Patrick turned back to face him, fastening the buttons on his shirt. “I wouldn’t have told her I was the one who operated on him. And you don’t know this, but Sonny used to be part of Robin’s life. So what happened today to him upset her.”

“Oh.” Matt grimaced. “Damn it, I didn’t know that—”

“She also looked after Michael when he was a baby. She doesn’t talk about it much, but it weighs on her.” Patrick removed his shoes, then sat on the bench to change out of the sneakers he wore on the floor. “So, no, telling her that once again I was the surgeon who couldn’t perform a miracle wasn’t my plan.”

“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry. I was just trying to—”

“I would have been wrong.” Patrick balled both his scrub top and pants together, and Matt just stared at him. “But just because it was the right thing to do that doesn’t mean I understand why you did it.” He tossed the scrubs into the laundry cart near the wall. “You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want anything to do with me.”

Matt pressed his lips together, looked away, then jerked a shoulder. “You haven’t exactly been a pile of a sunshine either.”

“No. No, I haven’t.” Patrick exhaled on a long sigh. “Because I built up my father in my head, and you existing messes that up. Easier to hate you than to deal with what’s really wrong.” He met Matt’s bewildered eyes. “Everything I know about being a father, I learned from Noah Drake. And he was a good one. Until he lost my mother on the operating table. He dove into the bottle and nearly killed himself before he got sober. I eventually forgave him, even gave him part of my liver because I thought, well, hell, he’d been a terrible father for the last ten years because he really loved my mother. Existing without her, losing that piece of his soul—after I found Robin, I thought I understood.”

Matt dropped his eyes, looked away. “But if he loved your mother—”

“Then how do I explain you? Maybe I could say well, you’re not that much younger than me. Maybe Dad made a mistake and then spent the rest of his life atoning for it. Maybe Mom forgave him. Maybe they got past it. But Dad can’t even say there’s not more of you out there. You’re just the only kid he knew about.” Patrick swallowed hard. “So, yeah, it was easier to hate you for showing up than to hate him for not being the man I thought he was.” He picked up his keys and wallet, then closed his locker. “But I’m done letting Noah Drake direct the path of my life.” He turned to face Matt again. “And I’m done making his mistakes your problem. I don’t know if we can be brothers. I don’t know if that’s even something you want. But if you want to try, well, you know where to find me.”

Penthouse: Living Room

Johnny checked his watch. “Won’t be long before we can leave for the airport.” He didn’t look at Nadine — he really couldn’t. Now that the decision had been made, he was oddly aware that in a few hours — unless she changed her mind — they’d be married.

Married.

He crossed back to the windows — the sun had begun to sink below the horizon, and night was creeping across the downtown. This morning, he’d gone to the hospital, hoping to find a way back into Lulu’s life.

And now, ten hours later, he was responsible for shooting Sonny and planning to marry another woman. He still didn’t know if the other man was going to survive. Jason hadn’t said anything, but surely, if his best friend was dead or on the brink of death, Jason wouldn’t be helping them, would he? Wouldn’t he be more upset?

Restless, doubts creeping in, Johnny rubbed a fist against his heart. He really didn’t know what to do next — only that he had to keep putting one foot in front of the other and do a better job protecting Nadine than he had Lulu.

“What do we tell everyone?”

Her question startled him, and Johnny turned, frowning. “What?”

“Well, I mean…” Uncomfortable, Nadine folded her arms, remaining by the sofa, across the room. “I don’t know. You’re not even technically broken up with Lulu, right? She could wake up tomorrow—”

“You saw her,” Johnny broke in. “Do you think that’s going to happen?” His chest was tight. “I dragged her to that wedding, even though they all told me not to, and she crawled so far inside herself I couldn’t get her back—”

“Johnny—” She bit her lip. “All I’ll say is that Logan Hayes attacked Maxie, and Lulu defended her. So at the end of the day, he’s really where this starts. And if Nikolas or Lucky or anyone blames you—including you—you’re just wrong. I hope you’ll believe that someday.”

“Yeah, well…as for why we did this—” He gripped the back of a dining chair, staring down at the dark wood. “We don’t have to over think it, right? We can just be impulsive. We met at the hospital, commiserated over our shitty love lives, and decided what the hell—”

“Let’s get married?” Nadine finished skeptically. “You think anyone is actually going to buy it?”

“I think they’ll have no choice.” Johnny crossed the room to her. “We stick together on this, right? The cops need a reason to pull us into an interview, and with spousal privilege in the mix, then we have a chance of making sure nothing can happen. And you know, Scott already believes you were protecting me at the trial —”

“What, we’ll just let him think I was?” Nadine demanded, planting her fists on her hips. “First, he insinuated I was doing it because of Nikolas and Lulu, which was just convoluted lunacy—”

“Marrying me will actually streamline his theory,” Johnny pointed out. “Now there’s not six degrees of connection to Nikolas. It’s just an arrow pointing straight to me.” He lifted his brows. “You think Scott won’t jump on that?”

Nadine wrinkled her nose. “You have a point. Okay, but what about anyone else? Our friends? I am not a good liar. Leyla is going to read me like a book, and—”

“I don’t have any friends,” Johnny said dryly.

“All right, the poor little rich boy act is getting old,” she muttered. “All I’m saying is that I’ve watched a lot of Law & Order and can’t they, like, arrest us if we lie about why we got married?”

“That’s not how it works.” Johnny hesitated. “Look, if you’re really worried about it, we’ll just say it was spontaneous, impulse. We were over—” He made a gesture with his hand. “Overwhelmed by lust or whatever.”

“Overwhelmed by lust,” Nadine repeated dubiously. “That’s never happened to me in my entire life, and I’m telling you right now no one who knows me is ever going to believe—”

Johnny cupped the back of her neck and jerked her forward into his arms, cutting off her retort with his mouth. Her hand, still raised in the air, fisted in his shirt. Her brain short-circuited and everything fell away —

He drew back slightly, his eyes meeting hers, his breath still warm against her lips. “Any questions?”

“I—” Had forgotten her own name, she thought, struggling to form a coherent thought. Instead, she did something even crazier. She used her hand, still holding his shirt, to drag him back for another kiss. His hands slid up to cup her cheeks, his thumbs fanning across her jaw.

This time, Nadine pulled away, licked her lips, then swallowed hard when his eyes followed the motion. “Okay, maybe we can make that story work after all.”

Coffee House: Office

“I’ll make this quick,” Cody said, as Jason closed the door behind the other man. “Our guy at the PCPD says they have almost nothing. It was broad daylight, but no one really saw anything. Elm Street Pier is usually quiet that time of day, and not much in the way of surveillance.”

Jason knew that — it was one of the reasons he’d always liked it. “What do they have?”

“Johnny Z and Nadine Crowell forty minutes before the shots in the area. Leaving Kelly’s maybe twenty minutes before the calls. It’s enough that they’re trying to get in touch with both of them,” Cody continued. “Nadine’s off the schedule at GH for a few days, so she’s not expected anywhere. And Harper put in a call to Johnny’s lawyer. I don’t think they’re expecting one back.”

That was a good thing, Jason thought, but that could change. A witness could always come forward — “That’s the PCPD. What about the DA’s office?”

“Scott’s out this week. He’s visiting Serena at college,” Cody reported. “But, yeah, everyone expects him to light a fire under Mac’s ass when he gets back.” He paused. “That’s not why I wanted you to come down. Do we still have Johnny Z under wraps?”

“He’s at the penthouse across the hall. I’m doubling back to take them to the airport. After that? They’re not my problem anymore. Why?”

“Because some of our guys are hearing from the Zacchara camp. Anthony hasn’t seen his kid in two days, and he gets antsy when Johnny’s out of touch.” Cody hesitated. “They’re going to the airport? Are we talking about the island?”

“We’re talking about making sure no one can testify against the other,” Jason said, “and that’s it. They’ll be back in Port Charles tomorrow. Get in touch. Make sure they know Johnny’s safe and staying that way.” No one wanted an antsy Anthony Zacchara on their hands. They’d had enough of that on Spoon Island a year ago. “What else?”

“Karpov. He’s reaching out, wondering if you’ve changed your mind.”

“No.” The word had left his mouth before Cody had completed his statement. “He set Sonny up for this. He went to Sonny about the shooting, claimed to be able to connect it to Johnny, and Sonny bought it.”

“Whoa. Back up—” Cody put up a hand. “What are you talking about?” Jason told him about Sonny’s visit to the penthouse before the shooting, his tone clipped and impatient, but he left out the attempt on Elizabeth’s life. He’d keep that close to the chest for now. “That’s why this happened?”

“It set everything in motion, and that’s enough for me. Karpov gets nothing. Is there anything else?”

“No. But are you sure you don’t want to hear Karpov out?” Cody called as Jason headed for the door.

Jason turned back, considered Cody carefully. “Any deal would mean undoing everything I’ve worked on for the last three months. And it would be worse than before. It would mean using our shipping lanes and connections to Canada for his product. We don’t run drugs. He does. We start running drugs through Port Charles, we get the whole force of the state and FBI, not to mention the DEA. They don’t care about us up here when they’re worried about the southern border. So unless you disagree with that—”

“No. No. I just—” Cody paused. “It might be worth our while to at least make him think we’re entertaining the idea of making a deal,” he said. “If we’re right, in the last five days, Karpov had Kate shot and managed to goad Sonny into a confrontation that put him in the hospital. We thought he’d moved on, but he not only came back, but escalated. I think we need to slow him down.”

Jason hated that he had a point — hated it even more that Jason hadn’t considered it from that angle. He was off his game — behind a step — and he didn’t know how to make it stop. And Cody didn’t even know that Elizabeth’s medication had been sabotaged.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay—” he nodded, dragged a hand down his face. “Get the details. Tell him we’re thinking it over—”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll let you know if anything develops on any of those fronts — the cops, the DA, the Zaccharas, or Karpov. You should go home and get some sleep.”

Zacchara Estate: Study

Trevor closed the door, then turned to face an impatient Anthony seated behind his desk. “All right. First, let me say that I’ve heard from Port Charles. Morgan’s guy, Cody. He says Johnny is safe, and he’ll be in touch.”

Anthony’s mouth pinched, and he picked up the glass of whiskey in his hand. “That’s what’d they say even if my boy were at the bottom of the lake. Did he offer any proof?”

“No. But I think we may want to give Johnny some time to check in. Hear me out—” Trevor said, holding up a hand when Anthony snorted. “It’s not the first time he’s gone off the grid. I’ve spoken to my son—”

“Another worthless waste of space,” Anthony muttered.

“He knows the players better than we do. You know we never paid any attention to Port Charles before Johnny got mixed up with that girl. Richard has been in that circle, he’s been thrown out of that circle, and he was married to the nurse that Jason Morgan is linked with now. I think it’s worth considering his point of view on this matter.”

“Let me guess.” Anthony leaned forward, rested his elbows on the desk, steepled his fingers together. “He wants to sit and wait, too.” He said this with a sneer that had a dribble of sweat rolling down Trevor’s back.

“When I told him you thought maybe you’d grab the older kid from school to force Jason into telling you something, Ric seemed to think that was a poor choice. I know you and I both thought maybe it was a good move since it’s not Morgan’s kid. He’s just some bastard son — guy didn’t stick around long enough to even give the kid a name.”

Anthony shrugged lightly. “I wasn’t planning on hurting the kid. Just wanted to let Morgan know I meant business. What’s the harm? I’ll give him back, more or less the way I took him. I still think it’s a good idea—”

“But I went back, and I looked at our information, and I think maybe Richard’s got a point. This kid — Morgan’s been around that nurse since before this kid was born. And he’s been hanging around Corinthos’s ex-wife for days. He’s part of that circle now. And we know how Morgan felt about the older boy, the one who’s in the coma now. I’m thinking maybe he might be more attached than we thought. Let Johnny have twenty-four hours to get this sorted. If he doesn’t check in, we can talk about ways to send a message.”

Anthony studied him for a long moment, then relaxed his hands. “Ah, well, it’d be too late to grab the kid now anyway. But if that boy doesn’t get in touch before noon tomorrow, I’m giving the order.”

I tear my heart open
I sew myself shut
And my weakness is
That I care too much
And our scars remind us
That the past is real
I tear my heart open
Just to feel
– Scars, Papa Roach

---

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Coffee House: Office

“No, it has to be me.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Set it up — a neutral zone,” he added.

“You sure? Because—” Cody hesitated at the door. “You’re supposed to be delegating more—”

“And I am,” Jason cut in, rounding the desk but not sitting. “But sometimes it has to be me, and this does. So make it happen and let me know when and where.”

“Yeah, okay—” Cody glanced down the hallway. “You got Spinelli coming in through the front.”

He’d been expecting Spinelli to call, not make an appearance. The hacker came through the office door, closed it behind him. “The Jackal bids Stone Cold a good morning,” he said, but the words felt a little…not like Spinelli, Jason thought, and braced himself.

“Did you find something?” Jason moved a few things aside for Spinelli to set down his laptop.

“Nothing that provides any finality, the Jackal regrets.” He pressed a fist against his mouth, stifling a yawn. “A thousand pardons, Stone Cold. The Jackal slept fitfully.”

Jason exhaled in a slow breath, rubbed his forehead. “You know, you don’t have to put every minute into this. If you need help—”

Spinelli scowled, his eyes flashing insult. “The Jackal is capable of any job Stone Cold puts in front of him. I just—” His lips thinned when he pressed them together. “Maximista was not herself last night. She—had to tell—” The younger man sat down, put his head in his heads. “She told Kate about Sonny.”

The switch from Spinelli’s verbose difficult to understand speech pattern to a simplistic one startled Jason into silence. “Spinelli.”

“It has been a most challenging year, I regret to say.” Spinelli lifted his head with a humorless smile. “Maximista still thinks of what she’s lost. Georgie, Cooper, and now Lulu. It’s a terrible weight for her to bear. At every turn, death has stalked, and the Jackal fears she questions why she is still standing after all that she’s done. The wrong sister died,” Spinelli murmured. “It’s what the world thinks, she says. The Jackal does not have the capacity to convince her otherwise.”

A bit at a loss, Jason cleared his throat, went around the other side of the desk, nearly sat down, but knew he’d just want to get up again. To pace. “I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t why the Jackal has dared to take up Stone Cold’s valuable time,” Spinelli said. He sat up, his eyes a bit clearer. “And he knows that there are many lives at stake—”

“It’s okay for you to take a break,” Jason told him. “To be there for Maxie—” He paused. “Yeah, what I’m asking you to do—what Patrick is hoping for — it’s important. But so are people.”

“I am, as always, grateful for your understanding and patience. The Jackal did take a respite to look after my fair Maximista, and now he stands only slightly fatigued, at an attention. Before I left the hospital last night—” Spinelli clicked a few buttons. “I completed a download of the software from the related machines to better understand its mechanics, codes, and output—” He shook his head. “Stone Cold does not care for the how or why, only the conclusions. There is a blip in the code on the two machines I examined.”

“A blip,” Jason repeated. Now he sat down, resting his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped in front him. “What does that mean?”

“A…misfire of the coding. When the nurse in the ICU punched in the request for fentanyl, the machine received the correct command twelve out of thirteen times. Once, and only once, did it misfire. And that misfire dispensed warfarin. The Jackal looked at the requests going back a month. This is the only misfire of that specific medication swap.”

“The only.” Jason squinted. “Were there other misfires?”

“Yes. They were always for medication that had very similar input commands, or common ingredients. The Jackal has put it to the side to investigate the more long-term issues and find patterns. In any case, every single swap had been logged and noted so that the nursing staff could develop training protocols to avoid administering the incorrect medication. No machine in the building had the exact same list, which is strange on its own. And no other machine ever swapped warfarin and fentanyl. Until two nights ago, in the ICU and then on the sixth floor. All three times, the medication was dispensed to the Fair Elizabeth.”

Jason let that information roll around, to process. “Can that kind of…misfire be done remotely, or do you need the machine in front of you?”

“These were top of the line machines when Dr. Quartermaine—Dr. Alan,” Spinelli added, “requested them in 2004, and the primary selling point of this line was the ability to upgrade remotely. If you know how to access the mainframe, you could upload anything you wanted. They were to be updated—replaced, actually — last winter. But the hospital had budget issues due to the, uh—” Spinelli looked away.

“To what happened with Jolene Crowell,” Jason said, saving Spinelli the trouble of having to say the name of the women who had killed patients at General Hospital, but ended up in a coma saving Spinelli’s life. “They didn’t replace them. They cut the nursing program and fired a lot of staff. I—I remember hearing about it.”

“In any case, Stone Cold, at this point in the investigation, the Jackal regrets to say all he can do is confirm what is already known. I have no other answers—”

“This is a good start for less than a day, Spinelli,” Jason interrupted with a shake of his head. “Suspicions are one thing, but it helps to know exactly how this happened. You’ve confirmed what Patrick suspected, and knowing how it might lead us to the who, and that’s what I care about. I also know it’ll be important to Elizabeth and a lot of other people whether or not this is a widespread case of medical sabotage or just poor equipment. See if you can dig into the coding to trace the misfires and learn everything you can.”

Spinelli brightened, clearly pleased to learn that he hadn’t failed. “The Jackal will do all that he can. I must go tell the Determined Doctor Drake what I’ve learned and see what else there is to discern.” He began to gather his things.

“Ah—could you tell Patrick to make sure—Sonny and Kate. I didn’t—Elizabeth is out of the hospital, but they’re—could he just make sure that they’re triple-checking everything?”

“The Jackal will see it done.” With a jaunty salute and his confidence restored, the tech exited the room, leaving Jason with few answers, and even more questions.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Across town, Mac Scorpio’s day wasn’t any better. Beyond the double mob-related shootings that had both gone cold, he had the usual menu of assaults, robberies, and nuisance reports to deal with.

And the news that DA Scott Baldwin had cut his trip with Serena short in order to fly back and personally supervise the Corinthos and Howard investigations was only going to increase Mac’s indigestion.

Harper leaned against Mac’s open door. “You want to hear something funny?”

“Is it an actual joke or just something that’s going to depress me?” Mac scribbled his signature on an expense report. “Please don’t tell me Baldwin’s back already.”

“Not for another few hours, but it is related to air travel. I got a call from a guy at the airport — he was looking through some flight logs and he happened to notice there was a name from our APB.”

“Flight list?” Mac focused on the detective. “Who? Where?”

“Johnny Zacchara flew to Las Vegas last night.” Harper folded his arms. “One-way ticket. I had him pull the manifest. Our boy flew first class naturally. And guess who was in the seat next to him?”

Mac closed his eyes, dropped his head on the desk. “Scott is going to make my life a living nightmare when he gets home.”

“Yeah, I don’t see a way out of this. Unless Johnny Z and Nadine Crowell have a good reason for hopping a plane to Vegas a few hours after Sonny Corinthos is almost shot to death on the docks. Can you register for a lawyer, or do you think the Zaccharas will give them one as a wedding present?”

Mandalay Bay Resort: Hotel Room

Nadine stared up at the ceiling, clutching the sheet with a death grip, her heart thudding so hard against her chest that it physically ached, her lips swollen—

What the hell had she just done? Had she lost her damn mind in the last twenty-four hours—she sure as hell hadn’t left work the day before planning to witness a crime, flee to Las Vegas, get married, and then actually have sex with her husband—

“I’ve done a lot of stupid things, you know,” she found herself saying, forcing the words out in almost a wheeze. “I hid in Matt Hunter’s room, I nearly got killed by a serial killer twice last year, and I tried to search a Russian freighter—”

“I’m almost scared to ask where this is going to rank on that list.”

Johnny’s voice sounded lazy and amused, and she wanted to smack him for that, but she also wanted to jump him, too, because there was something so damn sexy in the way—

Damn it. This is how they’d ended up naked with the sheets twisted around them—

“Don’t look at me.”

“You’re staring at the ceiling, how would you know?”

“Because I can hear you looking at me.” Nadine jerked up, grabbed the top sheet to wrap it around herself, almost tripping over the long, butter cream material as she fought out of the bed and hobbled over to the bathroom.

She glanced back at the bed, realizing too late that there had only been one top sheet and Johnny had been left without—

Nadine whirled around, bumped into the door frame of the bathroom. “Can you put something on?”

She heard him sigh, then the rustling of something. “I’m decent. You can look now.”

Nadine slid a look out of the corner of her eye. “You and I have very different concepts of what it means to be decent,” she muttered, gripping the top sheet more firmly around herself. Because all Johnny had done was put on a pair of dark green briefs which did nothing to cover his chest or his thighs, and now she was having flashbacks—

She hissed, then darted into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

PCPD: Squad Room

The time had come, Mac thought. “Maybe I could change my name,” he said to Harper, leaning against the counter. “Move to Bali. Be a bartender. I make a mean Mai Tai. ”

“Scott would just find you there,” Harper said, tossing a report into the bin then returning to his desk.

The detective had a point, but Mac still planned to keep Bali on the list. Or Tahiti. He’d live in the center of a volcano if it meant that he wouldn’t have to deal with Scott Baldwin anymore. The man had a one-track mind when it came to mob-related crime — he’d chased Sonny for years after what he’d done to Scott’s daughter, Karen, and now, after the loss of his son Logan, Scott had a new enemy: Johnny Zacchara.

The double doors behind Mac swung open and the bombastic attorney stalked in. “How come we don’t have anyone in custody yet? Shooting in broad daylight? What the hell is happening—”

Mac flashed a bland smile. “How was California?”

Scott’s scowl deepened. “Warm. Why the hell don’t we have any witnesses?”

Mac sighed, then straightened and gestured for the district attorney to follow him to his office. Once they’d reached it, Mac closed the door.

“Because that section of Elm Street Pier doesn’t have any cameras on it, and it was before the lunch rush. It’s not a high crime area, believe it or not. The best we have is Johnny Zacchara and Nadine Crowell—” He held up a hand when Scott opened his mouth. “They were seen heading in the direction before the shooting, and we know they had a quick lunch at Kelly’s, then left the diner twenty minutes before the first 911 call. That’s it.”

“That’s enough—”

“For a conversation. But I’ve put in a call to Ric Lansing and gotten nothing back. He’s not obligated to sit down and talk to us. Especially now—”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Scott demanded. He paced the length of Mac’s office. “You know, maybe I had it wrong at the trial. Nadine Crowell’s hanging around Johnny Zacchara? Maybe she was trying to protect him all along, waiting out whatever Lulu and Johnny had going on—”

“Or maybe she was telling the truth—” But Mac’s words were lost as Scott immersed himself in his new conspiracy theory.

“What about Crowell? Can we get her in here to talk? There’s got to be something we can use.”

Mac hesitated. “She had just finished a four-day rotation at GH. She’s off until Sunday at eight in the morning. We left a card with her apartment building manager and called the number we have.” He pressed his lips together. Time for the bombshell that was going to make the rest of his day extremely unpleasant. “The last information we have on either of their whereabouts is on a flight manifest to Las Vegas.”

“Las—” Scott whirled around, stabbed a finger at Mac. “Damn it! Why didn’t you lead with that? We can call the Las Vegas PD—”

“And tell them what? Maybe someone is in your city? We have a request in with the city registrar. I’m not an idiot, Scott. Las Vegas usually means one thing — so if a wedding license is issued, we’ll know by the end of the day. But that’s not going to be enough to drag either of them in—”

“Seen at the scene of the crime,” Scott spat, slapping one finger against his palm. “Known motive against the victim — ” another finger went down. “And he marries the witness—”

“He was one of six people who left Kelly’s in the same time frame. He has zero motive against the victim outside of your fever dreams, and so far all we know, Nadine Crowell is a witness to lunch.” Mac folded his arms. “What we suspect, what we know, and what we can prove are three different things, Scott. Not that you give a damn about that—”

“What does that mean—”

“It means that you see Zacchara or Corinthos and your brain turns off. Do I think Johnny probably did it? Yeah, I do. Do I think I can prove it? Not right now. But Nadine Crowell is the unknown. She’s strikes me as pretty honest and not willing to cover up for a crime. She stuck her neck out to testify in that trial—”

“She protected Johnny—”

“You called her!  You knew she wouldn’t point the finger at Johnny, but you tried to bully her anyway!” Mac exhaled slowly. “Let’s just see how this shakes out, all right? Let’s wait to hear from the Vegas city registrar.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Scott clenched his jaw. “I’m not letting Zacchara get away with this. Not again. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to make him pay.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

General Hospital: ICU Hallway

“Hey.” Carly pulled her sweater closed in front of her as she slid the door closed to Sonny’s room. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I called the hotel. They said you were here.” Jason looked past her through the clear walls of the ICU and saw Sonny lying on the bed, a breathing tube taped to his mouth. He exhaled in a rush, turned away.

“Have you been in there yet?” Carly asked, putting a hand on his back. “It’s…it’s not easy to see him like that.”

“No. It’s—” He’d avoided it, Jason thought. He’d filled the day with a thousand small tasks so that he could stop thinking about what was happening in the background — to avoid the reality of Sonny’s injuries and what the prognosis meant —

“You don’t have to go in right now. Come on. We’ll take a walk.” She wound her arm through his and guided him away from the room, and Jason let her because he still wasn’t ready to look at Sonny’s broken body and to face that what had made Sonny who he was — that it was gone and that they’d never get him back—

Just like April. Just like Michael.

“I’ve been thinking about how to tell Morgan,” Carly said when they reached the sitting area in the waiting room. She sat down, folded her hands in her lap, waited for him to sit next to her. “I should have yesterday, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. He’s been through so much, you know? I don’t know what this will do to him. He still asks for Michael.”

“I wish I knew the right words,” Jason said. “I don’t—I don’t know how to do it. To…” Say it out loud. He looked around, but the area was deserted. “Carly, you need to know—I know who did this.”

She looked at him, her eyes somber. “Is it—it’s someone I know?”

“It’s—Sonny shot first,” Jason said instead. “It was self-defense. I don’t know if the PCPD will ever believe it, especially with Baldwin in the DA’s office, but I know Sonny went looking for him. There was a witness who said Sonny shot first. But Baldwin isn’t likely to believe her either.

“Someone Scott hates?” Carly echoed. “Self-defense? It was Johnny.”

“Yeah. I think Sonny was set up to go after Johnny, to make him believe Johnny arranged for Kate’s shooter. Johnny wouldn’t—”

“Oh, no. No, of course not. Not with Lulu in that condition.” Carly was horrified by the possibility. “No, of course he didn’t. Sonny must have been out of his mind to think that — I thought we’d convinced him—but you said—”

“It was a very convincing setup.” He grimaced, thinking of Karpov. “Johnny came to me. He was worried what his family might do. And I agreed to help. Which means—”

“You’re protecting Johnny. Even though he did this.”

“Yeah. It’s—” Jason’s lips thinned as he pressed them together. “It’s the right thing to do. I just—I needed you to know.”

“Yeah. Okay. I can see that.” Carly stared at the linoleum floor. “It doesn’t feel real, you know. Even when I’m looking at him in that bed. It—I can’t imagine a world without him, Jason. It’s…even though I wanted to murder him most of the time, I never—I never wanted this. I don’t—” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “I always thought he’d be there. And now he won’t.”

Jason wanted to agree with her, to say his thoughts mirrored hers, but he couldn’t form the words. Couldn’t push them past his throat, so instead he stared at his hands and wondered how long he’d feel frozen like this.

“How’s Elizabeth?”

“Fine. I need to get back to her. Audrey can’t do everything—” Jason rose to his feet and Carly followed.

“Are you going to tell me why you took her home after she’d just had surgery or is this one of those things you need me to stay out of until you’re ready for me to know?”

“The second thing.” Jason kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand. “Don’t—don’t stay here too long, Carly. He…”

“Doesn’t know I’m here, yeah, I know. I just…I hate the idea of him sitting here alone.” Carly’s voice faltered. “I’ll go home when Morgan gets out of school. The house…it’s just too empty. I need something to do, I went to the hotel this morning, and people were just looking at me.”

“All right. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. And same to you, even though we both know you won’t do it.” She forced a smile. “Go home to your family, Jason. Be with your son. You deserve it.”

You know there ain’t no rest for the wicked
Money don’t grow on trees
We got bills to pay
We got mouths to feed
There ain’t nothing in this world for free
I know we can’t slow down
We can’t hold back, though you know, we wish we could
Oh no, there ain’t no rest for the wicked
Until we close our eyes for good
– Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked, Cage the Elephant

---

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

General Hospital: Kate’s Room

Maxie peeked inside the room, then nearly did a dance of joy when she realized Kate was alone. Dictator Falconieri was probably making someone else’s life miserable, she thought, then came through the door.

“I just talked to Genie at the office,” Maxie said, sliding her phone out of her purse. “And everything is going smoothly—”

Kate winced, fumbling for the controls on the bed. Maxie scurried to help her. “I want to know what else my cousin has been keeping from me.”

“I don’t know everything she’s told you, so like, I’ll just tell you what I know, and we can go from there. You had a few surgeries, and there was something about your spine and physical therapy—”

Kate tugged at the thin, scratchy white blankets to reveal her toes, then wiggled them. She exhaled in a rush of relief. “I can move them.”

“Yeah, no paralysis—you’re all good there. I think Patrick was handling your case, so I can page him—”

“Yes, do that. But what about Sonny? Did you find him?” Kate rarely looked her age, but without makeup, in the harsh lighting of the hospital room, Maxie could believe she’d grown up with Sonny.

Maxie glanced over her shoulder, and when she was sure Olivia wasn’t on her way. “I called him, but I’ll call again. And I’ll call Spinelli, and we’ll get Sonny right over here now that you’re awake and Benito Falconieri can go home—”

“I can’t decide whether to be appalled at the comparison or impressed that you know a historical figure,” Kate said dryly, and Maxie almost burst into tears because Kate sounded like her old self. The reign of terror was over. “Yes, call Spinelli—”

“On it.” Maxie fished the phone from her purse.

“Maxie.”

“Yeah?”

“Is…I didn’t think about it. The shooting. Did it upset Lulu?”

Maxie froze, her finger hovering over the speed dial, then raised her eyes to Kate’s. “Oh. Oh. Right. You, um, you don’t know.”

“Oh, no. She had a setback?” Kate’s hands fluttered. “How bad?”

“Bad. They couldn’t—” Maxie cleared her throat. “They couldn’t…she went, like, deep inside herself, I guess. And they couldn’t get her back. She’s—her brothers took her to a treatment place in California.”

Kate closed her eyes. “Oh, no.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Well, it’s not. But it will be okay.” Maxie had to believe that. “She’ll get help, she’ll come back, and I can make fun of her for her terrible fashion again. For now, let me track Sonny down so at least one thing can go right.”  She pressed the speed dial and raised the phone to her ear. “Sonny is going to be so happy to see you—Spinelli! Hey! Awesome news. Kate is finally awake and back in control, so you get Sonny up here—” She stopped, then looked at her boss.

“Maxie?” Kate prompted when Maxie closed the phone without another word. “What did Spinelli say?”

“Um…there’s been a development. About Sonny.” Maxie took a deep breath. “He’s already at GH. As a patient.”

General Hospital: Conference Room

Spinelli shoved his cell phone back into his pocket, then slid into the seat next to Patrick. “Sorry about that. Maximista wanted to relate that the Glacial One is awake and asking for Mr. Sir. I, uh, I had to tell her…” He gulped then looked down.

“I should go talk to Kate,” Patrick muttered. The list never seemed to get any shorter, especially today. “What about you?” he asked Jason. “Are you ready to get Elizabeth out of here?”

“Yeah, I made a few stops when I left earlier,” Jason said. “I’m going to get Epiphany now and try to make sure Elizabeth is comfortable enough to travel. I was thinking about the machines you talked about. The dispensary ones that are acting up. Spinelli might be able to help.”

Spinelli perked up. “You have a job for me?”

“I—” Patrick hesitated. “I don’t know—”

“There’s…” Jason grimaced, stared down at his hands. “I know you said this doesn’t seem like it was tied to me, and maybe you’re right. The thing is…” He hesitated. “This needs to stay between us.”

Patrick dragged a hand through his hair. “My hospital almost murdered Elizabeth, Jason. I’m not in a position to cast any stones—do you think there’s something that can help us?”

“It’s the timing. You said it started last night. Last night, Andrei Karpov showed up at Greystone with someone he claimed was Kate’s shooter.” Jason met Patrick’s eyes. “And then when Sonny brought that to me, instead of being able to do anything with it, I got called to the hospital. Sonny decided to handle it on his own. He went after Johnny Zacchara on the docks.”

“Oh, damn.” Patrick sat back, stunned. “Johnny shot him?”

“He came straight to me,” Jason continued, “and I believe him. Sonny’s had it out for the kid all year. Since Michael—” He closed his eyes. “Since Michael went missing the first time. He’s blamed Johnny for everything. I was able to keep him from doing it this time because of Lulu, but Karpov’s guy claimed to be hired by Johnny. And Sonny was too furious to think clearly. Johnny says he was on the pier, and Sonny shot at him first. Johnny only shot back in self-defense. I called a source at the PCPD. There were definitely shots fired from Sonny’s gun.”

“You think someone sabotaged Elizabeth’s medication to distract you,” Patrick said.

“I don’t know. But it’s a strong enough chance that we can’t rule it out. Spinelli, whatever Patrick needs. This is the top priority. Find out if it’s a bug in the software or deliberate. Fix it. Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Spinelli cleared his throat. “The Jackal is so sorry, Stone Cold. For Mr. Sir and for the Fair Elizabeth. He will do his best.”

“You have suspicions about other patients,” Jason said to Patrick, “but it was Elizabeth that really made you worry. Let’s make sure we know what we’re dealing with before we jump to any conclusions. Either of us.”

“Are you going to tell her?” Patrick wanted to know as Jason rose to his feet. “About the medication switch?”

“When she wakes up, yeah. But I want her out of the hospital first.” He exhaled slowly. “About Johnny — I’m not just asking you to protect him right now. Nadine Crowell was with him—”

“Noble Nurse Nadine?” Spinelli jerked to attention, blinking rapidly as Patrick looked to the sky and muttered a curse.

“Of course she was. Burning clinics, dead bodies, mob shootouts on the docks—if there’s chaos, Nadine isn’t far away. Is she okay?” Patrick wanted to know. “What can I do?”

“Right now, they’re safe. And they’ll stay that way until they figure out how to deal with her being a witness to a shooting in broad daylight.” Jason made a face. “I’ll let you know what they decide.”

“I’ve lived in Port Charles long enough to know where that conversation is going to end up,” Patrick muttered, following Jason to the door. He pulled it open.

“Where?” Spinelli asked, but the tech closed his mouth abruptly when they found Mac Scorpio standing on the other side.

Penthouse: Living Room

Nadine stared at Johnny, waiting for the punchline, but he said nothing, only staring at her with a dark, brooding, intense gaze.

“Spousal.” Her tongue was thick in her mouth, and the word sounded strange. “Relating to the Latin word sponsus? The past participle of spondere? It means to bind oneself—”

“How do you—” Johnny’s brows drew together, bewildered. “Is that true?”

“Yes. I think. Latin’s the root of most of the words in the English language. Also Greek, but Latin—never mind—” Nadine threw up her hands. “Spousal privilege. Are you kidding me? You’re actually joking, aren’t you?”

“No. Look, okay—” He raised his hands in front of him. “Hear me out. I know neither of us woke up today thinking this was the plan, okay?”

She folded her arms. “This is so far from what my day was supposed to be, and it’s your fault for looking sad, and mine for being a schmuck—”

“Right. Right. And if this were a better world, none of this would be necessary. You’d tell the PCPD what happened, I’d still be a free man, and we’d all just…” Johnny swallowed. “Look, I’m not asking you to do this for me. I can handle myself. But unless you’re willing to let Jason make you disappear—in a good way,” he added when her eyes widened, “you need to consider this plan.”

“Spousal privilege,” Nadine repeated. “That means marriage.”

“Yes—”

“As in you and me.” She pointed at him, then jabbed the finger into her own chest. “Man and wife. Husband. Wife—and you know, that’s a really sexist part of the vows, almost as bad as obey—damn it.” Nadine turned away, put her head in her hands. “No. The answer is no.” She whirled back, and now she jabbed him with the same finger.  “Okay? There’s another way. You just have to think harder! You’re not even trying!”

“I did think of something! I said you should go back to Nebraska!”

“Ohio!”

“Same thing!”

“If you think I’m going to marry you just so you can stay out of jail—”

“It’s to keep you out of jail, you lunatic! Scott already hates you! He’s never going to believe it was self-defense. He’ll think you’re sticking up for me again! Or worse, that you helped! Nadine, you don’t—” Johnny scowled, stalked away. “What, do you think I woke up today and thought, let me go drag the first woman I see into a situation where I have to marry her?”

“Well, no, but you sure came up with the marriage thing pretty fast,” Nadine shot back. “No one is going to believe this!”

“That’s not—look, do you think I give a damn about me?” Johnny demanded. He charged back towards her, his face flushed. “I nearly went to jail to protect Lulu because I knew what Logan did to her! I knew the cops wouldn’t believe her! They never believe the woman! So don’t tell me I’m trying to get myself out of trouble! I’m trying to save you!”

Nadine pressed her lips together, wanting to argue with him, but he wasn’t wrong. He’d gone on trial, knowing all along what had really happened that night. He’d tried to protect Lulu until the bitter end. “So what if Scott thinks I’m lying? He can’t prove it—”

“He’ll arrest us both,” Johnny said flatly. “We were both there. Fine. Fine.” He grimaced, took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to the cops. They want me anyway. I’ll tell them I shot Sonny. And I’ll make them promise to keep you out of it.”

Nadine blinked at the sudden reversal. “But you just said they won’t believe you—”

“It doesn’t matter.” His shoulders slumped, and he exhaled slowly. “I can make a deal. They keep your name out of the report, I’ll cop to whatever they want—”

“I don’t care about being a witness—”

“I told you about my family,” Johnny said, his voice almost empty, and she closed her mouth. “My father made…he was unhappy I tried to protect Lulu. He…made threats. And you know…” He met her worried eyes. “You know what he tried to do to her last year. What he nearly did to you. He wasn’t even targeting you, Nadine. And he nearly killed you. If he finds out you’re a witness, and you can put me in jail…that’s why I brought you to Jason. He can keep you safe.”

Nadine rubbed her arms, a bit disconcerted now. It had seemed so clear just a few minutes ago. “How does marrying me stop that part?” she asked. “I mean, I get, um, how it works for the cops. I can’t testify against you. Or you against me. But—if your dad would have hurt Lulu, someone you cared about—”

“Because then maybe we can keep it all quiet. The cops can’t drag me in, and I’m not in danger. Maybe my dad won’t care if I’m not in danger of being arrested,” he added. “I’m not saying it’s perfect, Nadine—” Johnny leaned against the back of the sofa.

She chewed on her bottom lip, then went to him, leaning against the sofa, too. “It just seems like a really dramatic solution. There’s so many questions. How long would we have to be married? And won’t they know why we did it? I mean, it’s not like we’re dating, and we hopped a flight to Vegas. We only sort of know each other, and you…there’s Lulu.” She swallowed hard, and their eyes met again. “Everyone knows about you and her. And then there’s me and Nikolas. Well, there’s not now, but there was, and people know there was—” Nadine closed her mouth. “How do you know this would work?”

“I don’t,” Johnny admitted. “But it’s the best idea I got right now that keeps us both in Port Charles, preferably breathing. Do you have a better one?”

General Hospital: Hallway

“Jason.” Mac stepped back so that the trio could exit the conference room. “How interesting to find the three of you together.”

“I was updating them on Sonny’s condition,” Patrick said smoothly, and Jason glanced at him. “Spinelli, you’re going to want to let Maxie know and, uh, make sure she breaks it to Kate gently. You know how she can be. I’ll be along to check on her soon.”

“The Jackal will see his duty completed.” Spinelli edged away from the commissioner’s pointed gaze and darted down the hallway.

“I need to check on a few post-op patients, which include Kate—” Patrick raised his brows at Mac. “Unless there’s something you need?”

“No. Just keep me informed if Sonny’s condition changes.” Mac’s curious eyes followed the doctor as Patrick left in the opposite direction as Spinelli before he focused on Jason. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Jason folded his arms. Said nothing.

“Elizabeth doing better? Carly told me there was a setback.”

“She’s fine.”

Mac waited a moment, then nodded. “When was the last time you talked to Sonny?”

There was no point in lying or avoiding the question, Jason thought. He’d done nothing wrong, and he had no doubt that if he turned Johnny Zacchara over to the cops, all of this would just get worse.

“This morning. He came by the Towers. You can ask the security guards, the time he got there,” Jason added, having already told the front desk to confirm as much. “And when he left. We were talking when I got the call about Elizabeth needing more surgery. And that’s the last time I saw him.”

Mac tipped his head. “According to Patrick, there’s a pretty big chance Sonny isn’t going to wake up. You don’t have a reaction to that?”

Jason tensed. “A reaction?”

“Well, he’s been your business partner and best friend for more than a decade. You just found out he’s been shot in the head and won’t be walking around again, probably ever.” Mac waited for a beat. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Bother me,” Jason repeated slowly. He looked away, towards the large windows that would have offered a view of the hospital hallways if not for the shades drawn. He waited for the irritation, for the anger, for the frustration that came with talking to the police.

There was nothing.

He looked back at Mac. “Would it make you feel better if I put my fist through a wall? Lost my temper with one of the doctors?”

“I just—”

“Does my reaction have something to do with your investigation? Do you think I shot Sonny?”

“No. No. You have a clear alibi, it’s just—”

“Then I don’t have anything else to say to you.” And standing here would waste time Jason didn’t have. Elizabeth had survived the attempt on her life, and every minute she was in this hospital was one that only increased the likelihood that someone would try again.

“You don’t even want to know what we have on the shooter? That’s strange,” Mac said as Jason passed him. Jason stopped, looked back. “Unless you don’t have any questions—”

“Do I need a lawyer, Mac?”

“No, but—”

“Then we’re done with this conversation.” Jason brushed past him and went into the hall.

“I’m sorry, do you have something more important to do than find out who all but murdered your best friend or shot his fiancée?” Mac demanded, following.

Jason turned. “You want me to do your job for you?” he bit out, and Mac scowled. “You know, it’s not my fault you don’t know who shot Sonny or Kate,” he added. “You should be used to that by now. You weren’t the one that found out Ian Devlin put Michael in that coma—and you sure as hell weren’t able to find out who was killing people last year before Elizabeth nearly went over that bridge—”

“Hey—” Mac’s eyes flashed now, because of course he’d lost his own stepdaughter in Diego Alcazar’s murderous rampage, but Jason was out of patience.

“Let’s not forget that you couldn’t get anyone out of the damn hotel before Alan had a fatal heart attack—I know you’ve gotten used to me doing your job, Mac, but you’ll have do it yourself this time. If you have any other questions, you know how to contact Diane. We’re done.”

GH: Patrick’s Office

Patrick stared at the stack of files on the corner of his desk — each one representing a patient that had died in the ICU in the last month. He would be breaking all the laws if he made copies of these files and let them leave the hospital but if he didn’t use all his resources, and someone else got sick or died this time—

He’d never forgive himself.

There was a light knock on the door, and Patrick glanced up, jerking to his feet when he saw Robin. “Hey. You’re supposed to be at home. Resting.”

“Light rest, Kelly said. I just saw her today, and she said everything was fine. ” She came in, closing the door behind herself, then crossed the office to kiss him. “It’s been all over the news what happened to Sonny—”

“Yeah, I meant to call you. To see how you were doing.” Patrick avoided her gaze.

“We’ll talk about that. Were you going to tell me you were in the operating room?”

He looked at her now, frowning. “Did Epiphany call you?”

“No.” Robin paused. “Matt did.”

“Matt—this is none of his business.” Patrick turned away, picked up the files. “And I’ll make sure he knows it—”

“Don’t do that. He didn’t sound happy about it, and tried to get me to promise not to tell you it was him.” Her lips curved into a smile. “He reminds me of you.”

“Don’t start with that—”

“It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?” she said softly. She rested her hands on the back of the chair. “Elizabeth has a horrible setback, and then Sonny—” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “It almost doesn’t seem real, you know? If you even knew how many times someone has tried to kill him—”

“He’s not dead.” Patrick stared blindly at the desk blotter. “But he might as well be. I can tell the family all I want about the possibilities, but I saw—I know better. And I don’t give a damn about Sonny Corinthos,” he bit out. Then winced. “I’m sorry. I know you do—”

“But you don’t. And you’ve lost patients before. Is it because of Michael? Because you had to tell Jason and Carly that there was little hope again?” Robin came to his side, stroked his shoulder. “On top of almost losing Elizabeth.

“It’s part of it, yeah. But—” Patrick shook his head. “I can’t get into it.”

“Because I’m pregnant?”

“Because you’re almost nine months pregnant. It’s not fair to keep putting more on you—”

“Would you tell me if I weren’t pregnant?” Robin asked. When he just sighed, she nodded. “Okay, so tell me. Is it Jason? He’s not the type to sue over missing the internal bleeding if that’s the concern—”

“There’s a chance—” Patrick grimaced, then sighed. “Do me a favor? Sit down first, okay?”

“Okay,” Robin said slowly. She lowered herself into the seat in front of his desk, rubbing her belly absently. “Is Elizabeth not out of danger? I thought—”

“She is. And she isn’t. There’s a chance this was deliberate. That—” Patrick sat down behind the desk, rested his elbows on the surface, then roughly combed his hands through his hair. Leo didn’t miss the bleed. He looked through the footage — that kidney was bruised. Not bleeding.”

Robin frowned. “But—”

“And when Jason got the call about Elizabeth crashing, when you called him, he was standing in front of Sonny demanding he deal with something. I can’t get into what. If Jason wants to tell you, he can do that.”

“It’s fine—keep going.”

“Jason left, came to the hospital. And Sonny went out to deal with the problem on his own.”

“Oh.” Robin’s eyes rounded. “Oh. But how could someone know that Elizabeth was going to crash—”

“When we ran the toxicology reports, Elizabeth tested positive for warfarin, and not a single trace of the pain medication I prescribed. She had three doses of medication that absolutely would have caused the bruising in that kidney to start bleeding and overnight—”

“Medical sabotage. You’re saying someone in this hospital tried to kill Elizabeth so Jason would be distracted from Sonny.” She pressed two fingers to her lips, took a deep breath. “Let’s go over it again. Start from the top.”

Zacchara Estate: Living Room

“On a scale of one to ten—” Trevor paused, leaning against the door frame of the room. “How ruthless would you say Jason Morgan is?”

Ric glanced up from his newspaper at the sound of his father’s voice. Then folded and set it on the side table next to the sofa. “Judging from the expression on your face, that’s not an idle question. Johnny hasn’t checked in yet?”

Trevor made a face, then came into the room more fully. “No. And Anthony is starting to make threats. Real ones,” he added. “I know the difference after all these years. Should I be worried that the boy is already sleeping with the fishes?”

Ric considered the question, thought about screwing with his father, but then sighed and rose. He crossed to the mini bar, poured himself a whiskey. “That’s not a simple question, you know. Jason’s not necessarily a predictable man.”

“I ask because you’re still breathing,” Trevor said, “and we both know you probably shouldn’t be.”

“Well, as you were so fond of telling me all my life, I have my mother’s eyes.” Ric lifted the whiskey to his lips. “It seems Sonny agrees with you. Funny how it didn’t do much to endear me to either of you.”

“So, Jason is under a mandate not to lay a hand on you.”

“Oh, no. He’s laid plenty of hands on me. I’ve been thrown against walls, over the hoods of cars, dangled over a railing—but he’s not allowed to kill me. Not while Sonny breathes.” Ric took a long swig of his drink. “So, yes, in his way, he’s an extremely ruthless man who’s created his own moral code. If you violate that code—well, you don’t live to tell the tale. Unless you’re related to the boss.” He lifted his glass in a mock toast.

“It’s likely that John put Sonny in that coma. Overdue,” Trevor muttered. “And of course, he couldn’t do the job properly. The bastard still breathes. But he’ll never wake up.”

Ric let that roll around in his head — it was strange to think of a world without Sonny. He’d tried so hard to get in his brother’s good graces, and when Sonny had rejected him, Ric had tried to destroy him. And now…there would never be another battle between them. “Do you think Johnny hunted Sonny down and pulled the trigger?”

“What?” Trevor scowled. “No. Of course not.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. If Johnny did this, it was almost definitely self-defense. Jason’s gone out of his way to protect Johnny from Sonny. You know that,” Ric added and Trevor nodded begrudgingly. “This won’t be any different.”

“Why? What’s the point? John’s nothing to him—”

“Well, Jason would never admit this, but he probably identifies with the kid. Johnny doesn’t want any of this. He’s told you and his father that over and over again. You know Claudia does, but it doesn’t matter. Johnny can’t escape this. No matter how much he wants to. He wanted a different life. A different future. And if it weren’t for Anthony Zacchara, he’d have it.”

“I do what I can to keep Anthony off his back—”

“And because you know the second Anthony is out of power, you’re out of luck, but sure, you’re just being kind,” Ric said sardonically, and Trevor scowled. “At any rate, it’s the same for Jason. If it weren’t for Sonny Corinthos taking advantage of a kid with brain damage who didn’t know any better, Jason’s life might look very different. Tell Anthony Johnny’s probably laying low until things cool off.”

“That’s not going to be enough this time, Richard.” Trevor came over, poured his own drink. “He’s talking crazy. Wants to send someone up to Port Charles and snatch one of those kids.”

Ric’s hand tightened around the crystal glass. “Those kids?” he said.

“The nurse’s. The older one probably. He’s the one in school. Anthony knows exactly how to get to him. Which troubles me,” Trevor muttered. “How could he know that when the nurse has only been on the radar for a few days?”

“For you. But not the rest of the world.” Ric swallowed hard. He’d told Anthony about Elizabeth. As proof that he knew things. He’d gone after her on the stand, forced her to lie about the younger boy’s paternity. He’d delighted in showing off how valuable he’d be if Anthony found a place for him. He exhaled slowly. “Anthony needs to give Johnny more time.”

“I told Anthony that the older kid doesn’t even belong to Morgan, so it won’t even work—”

The older kid. Cameron. The little boy that had nearly been Ric’s. “Oh, it’ll work,” Ric murmured. He poured himself another drink. “It’ll work but Jason will burn this place to the ground again—and this time, he’ll make sure Anthony’s inside it.”

Trevor frowned. “What?”

“I know it’s hard to understand that a man could love another man’s child—if you’d managed that, maybe my mother would still be alive,” Ric bit out, and Trevor’s eyes flashed, “but I’m telling you it’s a mistake to go after those kids. Not over something like this. Because you hurt a hair on Cameron’s head, and Johnny will be dead. So, tell Anthony if he wants to see Johnny again, he’ll find some patience and wait.”

Trevor tipped his head to the side. “All right. I’ll pass that along.”

“You do that.” Ric paused. And if Anthony laid a single finger on Elizabeth or her kids, Ric would help Jason light the match to burn it all to the ground, but he kept that to himself.

General Hospital: Elizabeth’s Room

Audrey rose to her feet when Jason came in, Epiphany on his heels. “Are we ready?” she asked, moving out of the way.

“Yeah. I just got the call that the last of what we need has been delivered.” Jason folded his arms, watching Epiphany give Elizabeth another dose of her pain medication, mixed with a sedative that would be sure to keep her out until they were home. “Carly still has the boys. She, uh, went home a little while ago,” he added when Audrey parted her lips in surprise.

“I’m sure she needed something to distract her.” Audrey touched his arm. “As do you. Well, we’re all set. I’ll feel much better once Elizabeth is out of here.”

He hadn’t told Audrey about the possibility someone had tried to kill Elizabeth as a distraction for Jason — before he broached that uncomfortable conversation, he wanted some actual proof. Either way, Elizabeth wasn’t safe at General Hospital and getting her out was the only thing he could think about right now.

Later, he’d let the news about Sonny sink in. And maybe then he’d try to think about what to do about Johnny Zacchara and Nadine Crowell. And Kate’s shooter.

But that was later, Jason thought, as Epiphany and an orderly came in wheeling a gurney. Eventually, he’d have to think about everything that had happened in the last five days.

But not yet.

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.

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I’m getting old, and I need something to rely on
So, tell me when you’re gonna let me in
I’m getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin
And if you have a minute, why don’t we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So, why don’t we go somewhere only we know?
Somewhere only we know
– Somewhere Only We Know, Keane

---

Friday, October 3, 2008

 Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Cameron’s eyes lit up when he saw his mother on the sofa that afternoon. “Mommy! You’re still downstairs!” He released Jason’s hand and raced towards her.

“Whoa—” Elizabeth smiled, held up her hands, and Cameron halted just by the sofa. “I can give hugs, but you still have to be gentle.”

“Cause of your owie,” Cameron said. He dropped his book bag on the ground, wiggled out of his coat, then came over to perch on the edge of the sofa next to his mother. He wrapped his tiny arms around her neck, and she hugged him, kissed his temple. Behind him, Jason picked up the belongings Cameron had discarded. He set the bag on the desk, then hung up the coat in the closet.

“Where’s Jake?” he asked, unzipping the bag to remove Cameron’s daily green folder. “Is he down for his nap?”

“Yeah, Gram put him down before she went out to lunch with Bobbie.” Elizabeth accepted the folder. “Thanks for grabbing him. The school pick up line is the worst, so I know it probably took forever.”

“It was fine.” Jason folded his arms. “You okay? Do you need anything?”

“No.” Elizabeth bit her lip. Something felt strange. Off, she thought. They were exchanging information politely. Distantly. Almost like Jason wasn’t really there. She winced, tried to sit up a little more. “Um, Gram said she’d be back for dinner, so if there’s somewhere you need to be—”

“No. Not right now.”

“Oh.” So that wasn’t it. Elizabeth opened Cameron’s folder to see the report from his teacher. “Hey, you got a smiley sticker today! That’s so great! Mrs. Wallace says you took a really good nap.”

“Yeah. I don’t like when they wake me up,” Cameron grumbled. “But then we had snacks and Morgan shared his apples.” He furrowed his brow. “Mommy, what’s a coma?”

Elizabeth’s hands stilled as she stared at her son. “What?”

“One of the helpers, she told Morgan she was sorry his daddy was in a coma, and Morgan didn’t know what that meant, but then she said maybe he was with Michael, and that’s Morgan’s brother who got hurt.”

Behind Cameron, Jason grimaced and dug out his phone.

“What did Morgan say?” Elizabeth asked, thinking about that poor little boy who’d already lost a brother, and didn’t even know yet about his father—

“He said thank you very much, but I don’t talk about my daddy. That’s what his daddy told him to say because people always ask him.” Cameron made a face. “No one asks me nothing about my daddy. They sposed to?”

“No. No, they’re absolutely not.” Elizabeth winced and pulled herself up again. Jason pointed at the phone to indicate he’d connected with Carly, and then went towards the kitchen. “And I’m glad Morgan didn’t say anything.” She kissed his cheek. “You want to go play?”

“Yeah.” Cameron headed over for the play area in the corner, and Elizabeth pulled herself to her feet, grimacing but determined. She paused for a moment, her hand braced against the back of the sofa to catch her breath before resuming her task.

She made it to the kitchen by the time Jason was sliding the phone into his pocket. His eyes widened when he saw her in the doorway. He came forward, put an arm around her waist, guided her to sit at the table. She leaned back, keeping pressure off her middle.

“I would have come to you—”

“It’s—” Elizabeth steadied herself. “It’s okay. I don’t have a lot of pain thanks to the medication, but I need to get around or it will just be harder to get the stamina back later. I wanted to talk to you where Cam couldn’t hear. Is Carly okay?”

Jason sighed, sat across from her. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “She didn’t tell Morgan yet. Mostly because she doesn’t know how to tell him. He doesn’t even really understand about Michael.” He looked away, towards the wall. “Why the hell is a teacher doing that? Saying that to him? Don’t they know better?”

“They’re supposed to, but people are human. It’s terrible that Morgan has to memorize a response for something like that.”

“Learned the hard way with Michael,” Jason admitted. He sighed. “Carly said she’d talk to him tonight. Is Cam okay?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t know what those words mean, which is a blessing, I suppose, since that means Morgan didn’t either.” Elizabeth hesitated. “Is…I mean, is that situation changed? He was supposed to have another surgery wasn’t he—”

“No, nothing’s changed.” Jason rose from the table, went to the fridge. “Should I get Jake’s snack ready now—”

“Jason.”

Something in her tone must have broken through, because he stopped, but didn’t look at her. His hand rested on the handle of the fridge, but he didn’t try to open it.

“I know this is how you handle things. You look straight ahead and focus on what needs to be done. I know that. But—” She bit her lip. “You can’t sit in one spot longer than a few minutes. And you can’t look at me.” Her fingers curled in her lap. “I know it’s been a lot, and I was unconscious for most of it—”

“It’s fine. I’ve got everything under control,” Jason said, but he still didn’t turn around or look at her.

“I never doubted that. You’ve always been calm in a crisis, and it helps everyone around you to steady themselves.” Elizabeth hesitated. “But then it’s over, and you move on to the next thing, and that’s all you’ve been doing for more than a year—”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do.” Jason now looked at her for just a moment, then dropped his eyes to the table. “Move forward.”

“Can you at least look at me long enough to tell me you’re really fine?” Elizabeth challenged.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jason said, and now he did look at her, his jaw clenched, and she took an uneasy breath.

“I just—Sonny’s so important to you. Can we talk about it?”

“Sonny’s in a coma. He’s not going to wake up. I can’t do anything about that. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then sighed. This wasn’t the moment either, not with Cameron in the next room and Jake nearing the end of his nap. “Nothing. Nothing. I’m sorry. I don’t want to argue. I’m just frustrated I can’t do more to help. I can’t go to the hospital, I can’t do anything with my boys. I can’t even do anything for Carly to help her with Morgan the way she helped us.”

Jason’s expression eased and he pulled out another chair, sat down. “There’s nothing you could do at the hospital that isn’t already being done,” he said, and she made a face. “Or help Carly tell Morgan about his father. And if you want to help me—”

“Oh, don’t say it—”

“You can let me take you back into the living room or upstairs to lay down until dinner. The boys and I—and your grandmother—we all need you to get better.”

“Fine. Fine. I give up.” She threw up her hand in mock surrender. “I’ll go back to the couch.” She flattened her hand against the table, pushed herself to her feet, but before she could even take a step, Jason had scooped her against his chest. “I can—”

“I know. But I—” His throat worked, and their eyes met for just a moment before he looked away. “But I want to.”

Maybe it really did help him, Elizabeth thought, as Jason carried her back into the living room and deposited her onto the sofa. To focus on other people. But she just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more she could do. That she should do.

She’d just have to try again. And keep trying until it worked.

PCPD: Interrogation Room

Nadine really didn’t know at what point in her conversation with Jason she’d decided she was all in, but if she had to choose one—it had probably been the look on his face when he’d told her all he wanted was the safety of his family.

His family, which Nadine knew now included Elizabeth and her two boys. The family that also included Carly and her kids. And, until the other day on the docks, Sonny. Jason had protected Johnny, the man responsible for putting his best friend in the hospital bed, because he wanted peace. Needed it.

And if Nadine told the truth or if she backed out, peace would be impossible. Because it would be her fault, and Jason would probably be obligated to keep protecting her even if Johnny ended up in jail and the Zaccharas blamed her. Wouldn’t that be like aiming Anthony Zacchara right at Jason and his family?

Which didn’t even account for how unfair the cops would be about Johnny, especially considering what they were doing to him right now—Scott had dragged him in when Nadine knew they didn’t have any proof.

No. She needed to stick to the plan. The pressure would fade eventually, and then she and Johnny could…figure out how to make this all go away. It was all just insane, and when it was done, she wanted to be able to look back and know she’d done the right thing.

Sometimes the right thing and the legal thing weren’t the same.

Nadine paced the interrogation room, while Johnny sat sullenly at the table. He’d tried to make her go home, but she’d refused. She was his alibi, not that it would get to that she hoped. Johnny’s lawyer would make this all go away, but she wanted to be there just in case.

The door flicked open, and Scott strode in followed by Ric Lansing and, finally, by Mac. The commissioner closed the door and leaned against it. The special prosecutor scowled when he saw Nadine.

“What’s she doing here?” Scott jabbed a finger at her. “She doesn’t need to be here.”

Ric rolled his eyes, pulled out a chair and gestured at Nadine. She frowned, then sat next to Johnny. “Why is my client here?” he asked, sounding bored.

Scott snorted. “You must think I’m pretty stupid.”

“Actually,” Nadine began but Johnny silenced her with a glare. “Well, he shouldn’t give me an opening like that. It’s not fair.”

“Clearly, I was wrong at the trial,” he bit out. “You weren’t protecting Johnny to get in good with Nikolas Cassadine.”

Nadine offered him nothing but a blank stare. She’d expected this line of attack, so it didn’t bother her to hear it now.

“Does he know about this—” Scott gestured at them. “This happy union?”

“My clients are under no obligation to answer any questions, personal or otherwise,” Ric said calmly.

“Ah, bullshit. You can smell the stink on this from a mile away—”

Nadine opened her mouth, and Johnny kicked her. “Ow—” she rubbed her ankle. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Maybe you could just tell us where you were the day of the shooting, and we can get this over with,” Mac said before Scott could say anything.

“No. You tell me why we’re here, and I’ll decide if my clients have anything they want to share.” Ric arched a brow when neither man said anything. “If that’s all—”

“Twenty minutes before the first 911 call, Johnny and Nadine were seen exiting Kelly’s,” Mac said. “They had walked across that very pier to get to Kelly’s, so I assumed their car was parked on Elm Street and not at the diner. They were in the area. And with Sonny arrested last Saturday for going after Johnny, you can understand that we have questions.”

“Is that it? That’s your entire evidence? Fine.” Ric shifted slightly to face his client. “John, tell the cops where you went when you and Nadine left Kelly’s.”

Johnny looked at Scott. “We went for a drive. I proposed. We went to the airport. We went to Vegas. We got married. We came home.”

Scott leaned forward. “You think I believe a word of that?”

“I don’t care what you believe.” Johnny leaned in, too, his eyes locked on the other man’s. “Every single word of that statement is the truth.”

“John.” Ric touched his shoulder, and Johnny sat back. “Satisfied?” he asked Mac.

“I want to hear her say it.” Scott pointed at Nadine. “You always have something to say. Care to add on? Was it a romantic proposal?” he asked with a sneer.

Nadine wanted to feel sorry for this man who had lost his son in such a brutal, terrible way. And the truth of Logan’s death couldn’t have helped. What would it be like to know your son had died because he was attacking a woman? And Scott wasn’t wrong about any of it. Johnny had shot Sonny. Nadine did know the truth.

But this was not a man who cared about truth. He only cared how he could twist facts to fit into the story he’d already written. And Nadine wasn’t going to let him railroad Johnny again.

“Yes,” Nadine said. “Johnny and I had a great time in Vegas by the way. Let me know if you need a recommendation for a wedding chapel.” She sat back, folded her arms. “It was a very romantic proposal. You should be so lucky.”

“Oh, she’s lying through her teeth!” Scott waved his arm dismissively. “Little tramp would do anything to save the guy she’s currently banging—”

He’d no sooner finished speaking than Johnny shot out of his seat, jerked Scott up from the table and shoved the special prosecutor against the wall. “Don’t you ever speak about her that way again.”

“John!” Ric said. “Come on—”

Scott jerked out of Johnny’s grasp and glared at Mac. “Can you arrest him now?”

Mac raised his eyebrows at the still fuming Zacchara standing just inches from Scott. “For what?”

“Assault!” Scott countered, pointing at Johnny. “He assaulted me!”

“And you provoked him,” the harassed commissioner replied. Mac looked to Nadine. “I apologize on behalf of this department.”

“Accepted.” Nadine hesitated for a moment but crossed to Johnny and put her hand on his arm. “Can we go now? Have we answered all your questions?”

“For now,” Mac allowed. He hesitated and looked at Nadine. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

He took Scott by the arm and forcefully steered him towards the door. “You’re just determined to get this department sued, aren’t you?” Mac could be heard saying as they went into the squad room, closing the door behind him.

“Well, obviously he doesn’t believe me,” Nadine sighed, removing her hand. She glared at Johnny. “Do you like being arrested or something?”

“If I had let it go unpunished, Baldwin might have thought he could get away with treating people like that. I had enough of him doing that to Lulu. He wanted me to react, wanted a reason to keep me locked up.”

“Can I please recommend in the future that we refrain from physical interaction?” Ric wanted to know.

“With Baldwin around? I’m not making any promises.”

Jacks Estate: Living Room

Carly looked down at the cell phone again, willing it to ring with a miracle, for some news from the hospital that would stop her from having this conversation. But it remained stubbornly silent, and she knew she was out of time. Morgan had started to pick up pieces, and he’d be even more confused if it continued. She’d already waited too long.

She looked across the living room to her son. Morgan was tucked in his play area, his head bent over a coloring book.

Morgan’s teacher said she was sorry his dad was in a coma. I don’t know if he understood, but—

She scrubbed her hands down her face, and went to sit by her son, arranging herself in a cross-legged position. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hi.” Morgan looked up, flashed her a sweet smile, his dimple winking.

“There’s something we have to talk about. You know how Michael got hurt this year? That he had to go to sleep, and we don’t know when he’ll wake up?” Or if. Her precious baby might never wake up.

“Yeah.” Morgan stopped coloring, raised his head again. “Miss Milly said she hoped my daddy was with Michael, but I didn’t understand ’cause Michael’s sleeping at the hospital, and Daddy got married to Kate.”

“Well, that…. something happened, and Daddy couldn’t marry Kate anymore. Then your daddy…he got hurt.”

Morgan drew his dark brows together. “He’s hurt? Can I see him? Maybe I can kiss it better.”

“You can’t—it’s not that kind of hurt, honey. It’s like Michael. Daddy had to go to sleep. And we don’t know for how long.”

“I don’t want Daddy to sleep. I want you to wake him up. I want you to bring him home!” Morgan shoved his coloring book away and climbed to his feet. “You call him, Mommy. You tell him to get better and wake up right now.”

“I wish I could. I really do. But it doesn’t work like that. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—”

“You’re a liar! I hate you! You hate Daddy and you sent him away! You were mad at him, and you were mad at Michael and now they’re gone! You made Jax go away too! I hate you!” Morgan shoved her hard and took off for the stairs.

Carly didn’t follow him, just stayed sitting on the living room floor, wishing she could throw a tantrum like a child, and scream at the world.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Are you sure it’s not too late?” Bobbie asked, handing her coat to Audrey. “I kept meaning to come by all day, but things just came up—”

“No, of course not.” Elizabeth sat up, wincing. Bobbie readjusted the pillow behind her back. “Thanks. You’re just in time actually. Gram is going to put the boys down for bed, and Jason had a meeting.” She sighed. A meeting that she wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t made up just to get out of the penthouse. “You can keep me from feeling sorry for myself that I’m stuck on this sofa.”

“Elizabeth is a terrible patient,” Audrey said to Bobbie with a smile. “And trust me, darling, I will happily hand bedtime back as soon as you’re capable of doing it yourself. Until that day, you’ll have to suck it up and let people take care of you.”

“I hate that,” Elizabeth muttered when her grandmother had disappeared up the stairs. Bobbie, sitting in the armchair, lifted a brow. Elizabeth’s cheeks heated. “I know it sounds ungrateful, but they make me feel like I can’t do anything for myself. Jason almost has a heart attack every time I take a few steps. And don’t tell me how scared everyone was. I don’t care.”

Bobbie just tilted her head in that way, and Elizabeth looked down, her throat tight. “I care, I do. I just—the world keeps falling apart and I can’t help the people I love make it okay—they won’t let me.”

“They? Or Jason?”

Elizabeth smiled faintly, lifted her gaze to Bobbie’s. “Bullseye. Gram fussing over me, that’s normal. But Jason—he uses it as an excuse,” she murmured, more to herself than Bobbie. “And I don’t know where he learned how to guilt trip someone, but he’s good at it. Keeps telling me that all he needs is for me to be okay, so that’s what I should focus on if I want to help.”

“The worst part of that,” Bobbie said, “is that he means every word of it.”

Elizabeth let her head fall back against the pillow. “Oh, my God. I know. And if you push back against that, you’re just an asshole, right? Like, oh, no the man you love wants to wait on you hand and foot, woes me, right? I know I’m lucky to have him and everyone else that’s helped.”

Bobbie leaned forward, picked up the tissue box on the coffee table, then came closer and sat on the sofa, by Elizabeth’s legs. She held out the box, and Elizabeth plucked out a tissue. “But?” she prompted.

“He won’t talk about Sonny, like, at all. He says facts, but he’s not letting himself process it. I know it hasn’t hit him. What happened with Michael, it was too big, too awful, and he’d only barely pulled it together after losing Emily—” She couldn’t speak, couldn’t force any more words out. “He loved that little boy. He still loves him like his own son, and I think a piece of him just went away when he found out Michael might never wake up. And I don’t know how to help him.”

Bobbie’s eyes were damp as she reached for her own tissue. “You’re right, you’re right. It’s this enormous hole at the center of all our lives, and I just—I watch Carly struggling with it, and she’s only barely scratched the surface of processing it. For Jason, to lose Emily and Michael so close together, and now Sonny—”

“I should be able to help him. I should be able to get through, you know? Why can’t I find the right words? Gram keeps saying I’ll know the right moment and what to do, but I won’t I’ll just mess it up. I always do. I always hurt him worse, and that’s all I’ll do now, I know it.”

“Honey—”

“I did—he lost Alan, and I asked him to give up Jake a few days later, did you know that?”  She pressed her lips together, struggled to force the words out. “Emily died, and I asked him to let Lucky keep raising Jake. To keep the lie. And Michael—I agreed with him. I let him go, and I shouldn’t have done that. He needed me, Bobbie, and I didn’t hold on. And now, he’s lost Sonny, and I can’t even help him. Of course not, why would he trust me to do that—”

“All right, all right, you need to stop all that because I can’t hug you without hurting you,” Bobbie managed, and Elizabeth laughed, then started to cry harder. Bobbie stroked her hair. “You are doing the best you can, honey—”

“But he deserves better—”

“He deserves you. You deserve each other, and those boys deserve a family.” Bobbie took her hands, held them together between both of hers. “Jason learned a long time ago that it was easier to close himself off than to feel. And he learned that long before you came along. Those were lessons learned from the Quartermaines, from Robin and from Sonny, and Carly.”

“I did my own damage,” Elizabeth said. She twisted the tissue in her hands. “But I used to be able to tease him out of it. I used to…he used to look at me, Bobbie, and I’d feel so much love. When I was in the hospital, before Sonny was shot, he was still doing that. Still looking at me. He was talking. But now I’m here, and he just talks past me. Talks about the boys, talks about me resting, or what’s for dinner. And I’m afraid that I’ll just keep poking at him until he blows up, and that’s not what I want.”

“You want to skip the part where you have to dig and prod,” Bobbie said, and Elizabeth nodded, wrinkling her nose. “Well, that’s fair, enough. But that kind of ease, it comes with time. You and Jason have been around each other for years, but—correct me if I’m wrong—this is the first time you’ll actually be…together. In the open. Building a life where people can see you.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point. Just because Jason and I have been in love for years, it doesn’t mean we know what to do with each other now.”

“And your grandmother had a point. The time is going to come when you’ll know what to say. How to reach him. But it might not be easy. And you may fight and hurt each other and keep going in circles. Because he has to be ready. And there’s no amount of pushing, poking, or prodding that’s going to make that happen.”

Elizabeth smiled wryly. “No, that’s true. I guess I’ll just have to be patient. Which is exactly what Gram said. Since you guys are two of the smartest women I know, I guess I have to listen.”

Struggling between the facts and fiction
I’m alone
But I’m alive
Everyone around me is trying to make a statement
Then there’s me
I’m just trying to survive
– Disarray, Lifehouse

---

Thursday, October 2, 2008

General Hospital: Conference Room

Leo released a quick breath of relief, ran a hand through his dark black curls. “I gotta say, I know this is bad news for you and maybe the rest of the hospital but knowing I didn’t screw up that surgery is a relief.”

Patrick wished he could share in Leo’s relief but learning that Elizabeth’s medication switch had been deliberate created more questions than it answered. He tossed a few files aside. “The plan now is for Spinelli to determine how these—he’s calling these coding glitches misfires, and I guess that’s the best word for them—we want to find out exactly how and when this glitch was inserted into the machine codes. And once he knows that, maybe he can fix them.”

“What about getting new machines? Something like this has to convince the board—” Leo hesitated, sat back when Patrick just looked down. “You’re still not going to escalate this? We know it’s a deliberate hack into the system—”

“Spinelli says the misfires go back to at least July. Whoever did this to Elizabeth—either they were lying in wait, hoping for the opportunity to go after her or she’s not really the first—”

“Or someone hacked the system looking for a way to screw with Elizabeth after she was admitted,” Leo said, “and found this glitch. We don’t know, Patrick—”

“And I want the answer to that question before I make this someone else’s problem.” Patrick got to his feet. “I thought you were on board with keeping this quiet—”

“Until we knew what was going on. Now we do. Our machines were faulty — that’s not news, Patrick.” Leo also got to his feet, folded his arms. “And someone took advantage of those issues and went after a woman connected to Jason Morgan at the same time people around him were dropping like flies—”

“Hey—”

“The fact Elizabeth is one of us—that she’s part of the hospital—that doesn’t have to matter. I don’t know what the problem is, dude. You’ve been on record demanding new machines for months. In fact, if it ever gets out that the board rejected these requests over and over again, it’s going to look bad for them.”

“I know. I know all of that, but—”

“You keep quiet now,” Leo said, “you’re doing it to protect Jason Morgan—”

“I’m doing it to protect the hospital—we’re just barely digging out after last year—” Patrick scowled. “Why the hell would I care about protecting Jason Morgan—”

“Because Elizabeth’s your best friend. Because Morgan’s got history with Robin. Or maybe because you operated on two of his family members this year and you feel a little guilty you nearly didn’t save a third. I don’t know, Patrick, pick a damn reason. Either—”

“It’s a result, but it’s not the reason. This hospital gets another black mark, another round of lawsuits, they’re going to cut something else,” Patrick retorted. “They shut down the nursing program, Leo! We don’t have much left. They’ll go for the pro bono cases we all take. They’re going to cut the daycare. The AIDs wing—”

“That’s supported through donations—”

“It’s not self-sustaining and hasn’t been in five years. You don’t know the shit I’ve seen since I took over, Leo. We’re hanging on the edge here, and one more news story hits that patients aren’t safe at General Hospital, and that’s it. This place will be even more miserable, and we’ll have even less to take care of patients. So, yeah, right now, I’m keeping quiet until I know exactly what I’m dealing with, how serious it is, and how far it goes back.” Patrick headed for the door, then looked back at his friend. “And if my reasons aren’t good enough for you, Leo, feel free to go above my head and do it yourself.”

Leo stroked his chin, then sighed. “All right. All right. I hear you. The nursing program—that was a jolt, and I didn’t think it could get worse, but it has. So let’s…let’s just see what Spinelli comes up with.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re not the only one who loves this place, Patrick. But I don’t like the idea of helping Jason Morgan. All he and his kind do is put more bodies on my table.” And with that, Leo left.

Zacchara Estate: Driveway

It was nearing dusk when Johnny pulled his car into the long drive curving in a semi-circle in front of his family’s house. Nadine had spent all the hours since this morning in a constant state of turbulence, castigating herself for how she’d lost the plot in Las Vegas and allowed Johnny to talk her into bed twice.

Maybe she was just lonely, Nadine thought. She looked up at the huge house, with its forbidding exteriors against the backdrop of the dying sunlight. “Did you really grow up here?”

“When I wasn’t in private school or in college.” Johnny switched off the ignition, looked over at her. “It’s not going to be that bad.”

She squinted at him. “Wasn’t one of your selling points protection from your family?”

“Yeah, but—” he pressed his lips together, clearly trying to think of way around that particular challenge. “They’re not going to threaten you to your face. At least not today.”

“You’re really comforting, you know that?” Nadine shoved the door open and stepped out. She slammed the car door, but didn’t go near the house, giving Johnny time to come to her side. “Look, I get to be nervous about this. Your sister tried to blackmail me into lying to the cops this summer, your dad tried to kill me—”

“Yeah, but he likes you now—that’s not helping either, is it?” Johnny said. “By now, my sister has told them what’s going on. So let’s just go inside, they can say whatever they want, and then I’ll go grab clothes. We’ll be in Port Charles, right? They’re not there.”

Nadine glanced at the house again before sighing. “I guess you’re right. If they want to make me miserable, they’ll have to travel like an hour to make it happen, so we’ve got that going for us. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit.” He laced his fingers through hers and pulled her towards the front door. “Now, just remember our cover story, and this will all be fine—”

“The one where I come off as a gold digger taking advantage of the guy on the rebound, why not?”

Johnny stopped, swinging her around so that they faced each other. “No one is going to think that—”

“Oh, they’re all going to think that, but that’s okay. That was the attitude when it was Nikolas, so I’m used to it.” Nadine shrugged but kept her eyes downcast because every time they made eye contact today, she ended up taking off her clothes. “It’s better than being that crazy killer’s sister.”

Johnny opened his mouth, then shook his head. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Good. Don’t. We’ll go in there, I’ll tell them I married you because you’re rich and hot, and you married me because I’m good in bed or maybe because I wouldn’t put out without a ring on my finger—” Nadine wiggled her finger. “Maybe I should have let you stop on the way to the airport for a flashier ring.”

“You pointed out — correctly — that anything bigger would make it harder for you to do your job,” Johnny said. “And you’re not quitting that, so no one is really going to think you’re after me for the money. I don’t even have any, you know. It’s just a trust fund from my mother.”

“All my mother left me was the crazy killer sister, so—” Nadine closed her eyes. “I’m being bitchy and I’m arguing with everything you say because I don’t want to go in there.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“It’s just…” She bit her lip, looked at the house. “That’s the first step. People are going to know we got married. And then we’re going back to Port Charles. And more people are going to know, and it’ll be like this avalanche we really can’t control, and sure we can tell people until they’re blue in the face that we did this because we’re hot for each other, but everyone is going to know—”

“Then we’ll just have to change their minds.” Johnny cupped her jaw in both hands, and she had no choice but to meet his eyes, those intense dark brown eyes that seemed like they could see straight through her bullshit. “You don’t think we’re up to that?”

“I don’t—” She licked her lips. “I don’t know. I lose track of what I’m thinking when you do that. And don’t ask what, you know what—stop looking at me—”

“I like looking at you. It’s my new favorite thing to do.” He kissed her then, swallowing her next protest, and Nadine’s hands fluttered for a moment before sliding around his back and clinging to him.

“Well, this is an interesting development.”

They jumped apart to find Claudia standing a few feet away, in the open door. “You going to put on a show in the front drive, John, or are you going to bring the wife in to meet the family?”

General Hospital: Conference Room

Spinelli had three laptops set up, each screen covered in code that would look like gibberish to anyone else. There were also several stacks of papers with the same programming language. Spinelli had written a program to go through the mainframe of the hospital dispensary, but he didn’t want to rely just on the computers. Sometimes you found more when you used your own eyes.

He was so lost in absorbing the code that he didn’t hear the knock on the door — but he did hear it burst open, banging against the wall behind it so hard it bounced back. “I didn’t mean that,” Maxie said with a wrinkle of her nose. She stepped in and closed the door. “You didn’t answer my knock.”

Spinelli furrowed his brow. “I didn’t hear you knock.” He circled a set of codes, made a notation. “What does the fair Maximista need?”

“Answers. You’ve been in here all day, and I realized you were already at the hospital yesterday because you found me last night.” Maxie went to the opposite side of the table, planted her hands flat against the tabletop, then narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“The Jackal’s assistance has been requested and he is not at liberty—”

“Oh, no, no, you don’t get to disappear into that gibberish and try to distract me with your Jackals and wherefores and whatnots and heretofore—” She stabbed a finger at him. “Something is going on. I demand to know.”

Spinelli cleared his throat. “There is a software issue with one of the hospital’s programs. The Determined Doctor Drake has requested the Jackal see to it as a way to save money and receive quick, accurate service. Since I’ve been here anyway.”

Maxie squinted at him, her lips thinned. “There’s enough truth in that I’m gonna leave it alone. For now. Also, I need your help. Johnny hasn’t called me back, and you need to put like, a tracker on him.”

“The Septic Son? Why does Maximista even need him?”

“Because the last time I saw him, he was in a rotten mood. And it was the day of the shooting, don’t you remember? He and Nadine went off together, and then Sonny got shot—”

“Yesterday.”

Maxie stopped, blinked. “What?”

“Mr. Sir was shot yesterday.”

Maxie blinked, then dropped into a seat. “Yesterday. Yeah. I guess it was just yesterday. It’s been barely a week.” She looked at him. “It doesn’t seem so long ago that Lulu was here, and we were bickering with each other, you know? And now she’s gone. Johnny was so upset, and I guess I just—I’m looking for things to do. I’ve done everything I can at Crimson, and Kate doesn’t need me. I figured I could go bother Johnny because I don’t want him to go moping around. Lulu would hate that, you know? She said he brooded too much.”

Spinelli nodded. “The Jackal is painfully aware of the Blonde One’s feelings on the matter.”

“Do you think he shot Sonny?” Maxie wanted to know. She picked at her cuticle. “If he did,” she continued, not waiting for his answer, “it wasn’t his fault. I’ll make sure Mac knows it. Johnny never did anything to bother Sonny, but it’s not like that mattered.” She shoved herself to her feet. “You’re not going to put a tracer on his phone, are you?”

“No, Maximista, I am not.”

“Fine. You keep doing your top-secret work, and I’ll go bother someone else. But eventually—” She pointed at him. “I’m gonna figure out what you’re up to.”

Zacchara Estate: Foyer

Johnny kept his hand at the small of Nadine’s back, ushering her inside — only after Claudia had already swept in front of them. As much as he’d tried to reassure and distract her outside, she wasn’t crazy to worry about his family’s reaction to this.

Anthony Zacchara, on his best day, was an unpredictable bastard who thrived on chaos — a trait he’d passed down to his daughter. If Anthony thought Nadine was a threat to Johnny, he wouldn’t have any trouble disposing of her. And Johnny wasn’t so sure that Claudia wouldn’t be right there with their father to neutralize Nadine.

It was one of the reasons he thought marrying Nadine might help — it would prove to his father that Nadine was on his side. That she’d had the chance to go to the PCPD, and she’d chosen to protect him instead. It was essential that Anthony saw Nadine as being in their camp. It had taken months before his father backed off Lulu—

Johnny wasn’t sure they’d have months for Anthony to warm up to Nadine.

“Just let me do the talking,” he reminded her, guiding her towards the living room where Anthony waited, reclining in his wheelchair, Trevor flanking his side. Ric stood off to the side, looking through some papers, and Claudia was by the bar, pouring another glass of wine.

A typical family scene, Johnny thought almost bitterly.

“Well, if it isn’t the blushing bride and the groom,” Anthony drawled. “I guess you weren’t as broken up about LooLoo the Lunatic as I thought.” He smirked when Johnny tensed. “Or does one blonde feel the same in the dark as the other?”

Johnny bristled, but Trevor drew his attention next. “John, you ran off to Las Vegas without even running this past me,” he said, sauntering towards them. “You have a substantial inheritance coming your way, and you didn’t even let us protect you with a prenuptial agreement.” He lifted his bushy brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll sign a post-nuptial now?”

“I—” Nadine opened her mouth but Johnny held out a hand and she said nothing else.

“When I need you, Trev, I’ll call for you. Until then, don’t bother. My money is my money and Nadine’s welcome to whatever she wants—”

“Oh, don’t bother trying to make me think this is anything other than a cheap way to keep yourself out of jail again,” Anthony cut in sharply. “This woman saw you shoot Sonny Corinthos, didn’t she? And you think this is enough protection? What’s stopping her from going to the PCPD the first time you piss her off?” He shook his head. “No. No, John, I’m not letting you endanger everything I built.” He focused on Nadine. “You’ll sign whatever I put in front of you, and you’ll shut up about whatever you saw on the pier—”

“You’re not going to threaten her,” Johnny retorted. “I won’t let you—”

“Johnny—” Nadine’s voice was soft, and her hand on his arm was reassuring. He looked her, met her eyes. “They’re just scared, okay? Scared and worried. So let’s just try to reassure them, right?”

“I’m not scared—” Anthony began, offended.

“Sure you are,” Nadine said, and so stunned at being interrupted by a woman, Anthony closed his mouth. “And who would blame you? After what Johnny just went through these last two months. He was on trial and in jail just a few weeks ago. It’s natural that you’re worried he might be dragged back with even less evidence. Scott Baldwin made it really clear he didn’t care about Johnny being guilty. And you do have money. Just look at this house, right? I think my apartment would fit into this entire room.”

Anthony considered her for a long moment, then folded his hands in his lap. “So you admit that you married my son for protection.”

“Well, not entirely, no. I mean, when we found out about the shooting, Johnny knew he’d be first in line as a suspect. Especially after what happened to poor Kate Howard. And he knew Scott wouldn’t believe I was an alibi. B-But you know, Johnny could just say talk to my lawyer, and I could find a lawyer of my own. That could be the end of it, right?” Nadine licked her lips. “But it’s okay now. Johnny and I are…we’re together, and we’re a team.”

“Not entirely?” Trevor echoed.

Anthony smirked. “That’s code for yes,” he said in a stage-whisper to the lawyer.

“It’s…more complicated than that. Ask Claudia what she saw when she went outside. Did it look like we were married to avoid being questioned?” she asked Johnny’s sister who pursed her lips.

“No,” she said finally. “A few more minutes, we might have had to throw water on them. I don’t know, Daddy. It might be interesting to see where this going.” She shrugged. “But then again, does my opinion matter?”

“No,” Anthony muttered, “but you’re not always wrong.” He hesitated. “You talk a good game, girl. You amused me during the trial. I think I might like to see what else you have up your sleeve. But you don’t get to lay a hand on my money—”

“Right. So I’ll sign whatever Mr. Lansing wants me to sign.”

“Nadine—” Johnny started, but she shook her head.

“I know what everyone is going to say.” She looked at him, biting her lip, and he knew she was thinking of their conversation back at the hotel. “But I don’t care that you have access to money. I can take care of myself. I’m not a gold digger. So you go pack what you need to come back with me, and I’ll go talk to Mr. Lansing about what he wants me to sign.”

“Pack?” Anthony repeated as Nadine released Johnny’s hand and followed Trevor out the room. “Where the hell are you going?”

Coffee House: Office

Francis dropped the phone onto the base as Jason came into the office. “Hey. I just talked to my contact at the DEA.”

Jason closed the door. “We’re all set for tonight?” He looked over at Cody. “Karpov will be there?”

“He was happy to hear you’d changed your mind about meeting him,” his lieutenant confirmed. “He hopes this will the beginning of a successful partnership.”

Jason grunted. “If we’re lucky, it’ll be the last time I ever have to see or think about him.”

Francis lifted his blond brows. “How’s Sonny? I thought he was supposed to have surgery again today.”

Jason went around to the other side of the desk, moved some papers around. “Nothing. Still waiting for some of the swelling to go down, but—” He looked up briefly before reaching for a stack of invoices. “They haven’t changed their prognosis.”

“Ah. Sorry to hear that.” Francis looked at Cody, tipped his head, and the lieutenant headed out, leaving Francis and Jason alone. “Elizabeth and the kids settle in okay? Her grandmother?”

Surprised by the question, Jason lifted his head again. “What? Yeah. No security issues—”

“I just—I could have confirmed this over the phone. You could be at home with them.” Francis folded his arms. “I know we’re not talking about why Elizabeth got discharged or why we needed to track down some hospital-quality equipment and meds, but—you don’t have to do more than show up at the warehouse tonight—”

“Are you telling me how to do my job?” Jason wanted to know. “Because if you don’t like—”

Francis came around the side of the desk, pulled open the top drawer. He put the picture frame on the desk. “No reason to hide that away anymore. It can go right next to Michael and Morgan.” He slid the frame so that it sat next to the double frame — Morgan that summer, eating an ice cone. And Michael’s last school photo.

“You’ve spent a lot of time hiding them,” Francis said. Jason clenched his jaw. “I told you a couple of days ago that I was glad we were done pretending. I’m not the only one that’s breathing easier knowing we can give your kid—both of them—the kind of protection they deserve. You know when Sonny did this job the best? When he was at his strongest? When he and Carly were good, he went home to his family. He didn’t know how to hang on to it. I sure hope you don’t make the same mistakes.”

Morgan Penthouse: Hallway

Audrey wrapped an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “Slower, darling. You’re still trying to do too much too fast.”

“I can’t help it,” Elizabeth said, panting as they paused, and she leaned against a window. “I have two boys, and Jason needs me back on my feet—”

“Jason—and those boys—need you to be healthy,” Audrey corrected, and Elizabeth didn’t argue when her grandmother steered her back down the hall. “These problems with the hospital will not be solved overnight.”

“I still can’t believe my medication was deliberately switched.” Elizabeth grimaced as her grandmother lowered her onto the bed. “That’s just insane to me. We’ve been having issues with those stupid machines, but this goes so far and beyond that.”

“I regret, you know, not doing more after Steve passed.” Audrey sat next to Elizabeth, handed her a glass of water. “And when I retired, I could have taken a seat on the board. Edward offered it to me.”

“I miss him being on the board,” Elizabeth said wistfully. “I can’t blame him for not wanting to be there after losing Emily and Alan so close together, but with Monica cutting back her hours, the closing of the nursing program, losing Bobbie—it doesn’t even feel like the same place.”

“The end of an era for sure.” Audrey sighed, rubbed her knee. “Your grandfather thought they’d be the next generation, you know. Alan taking over for him, Jason in medical school — perhaps continuing to follow in his father’s footsteps. And Tommy and his son, TJ. Instead…”

“Gram—”

“I’m not judging Jason for going a different way after the accident,” Audrey said, patting Elizabeth’s hand. “He spent so long in the hospital, surrounded by doctors poking and prodding at him, I’m not surprised he ran as far and as fast as he could. Lila always fretted that Jason continued to run from them—and that Alan and Edward couldn’t stop getting in their own way to heal the breach.”

Elizabeth rotated the glass in her hands. “I didn’t think about—you were around for all of that.”

“To a certain extent, yes. Your grandfather took a great interest in what was happening—he counseled Alan to have some patience, but well, it wasn’t to be. We lost him only a few months later.” Her voice hitched slightly, and she had to take a breath. “Oh, it’s been more than ten years, and it still feels so wrong to speak of him in the past tense.”

“I know. I’ve never stopped missing him.” Elizabeth handed her grandmother a tissue. “He’d be heartbroken at what’s happened to the hospital. He worked so hard to save it—” She looked away. The stress of the hospital had contributed to his fatal heart attack at the desk where he’d spent so much of his life. “When this is done, when we know what happened and we’ve fixed it, I want to do better to honor Gramps. And you. And Bobbie and Amy and all the nurses that came through GH. That nursing program — it gave me a future. A life for my son. I want to bring it back.”

“And I would love to help you, but first—” Audrey handed Elizabeth two pills. “We have to get you better.”

Elizabeth obeyed, swallowing the medication. She set the glass aside. “Gram, you were with Jason most of yesterday. Were—were you with him when he found out about Sonny?”

“I was. It was just after Jason and Patrick had shown me your toxicology reports. Epiphany called him from the Emergency Room.” Audrey tipped her head. “Why? Have you not spoken with him about it?”

“A little. Not much. Jason kind of—he locks in, you know? He focuses on what has to be done. One foot in front of the other—” Elizabeth had to pause, wincing and changing position to take some of the pressure from her sore ribs. “And right now, he has a list of things to do, and he can avoid dealing with it.”

“Ah, well, it’s not unusual, darling, for someone to lose themselves in their work or find something else to take their attention—” Audrey paused.

“It’s just—there’s been so much loss this year, Gram. And if I go back even further, when Alan died, Jason—” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at her hands. “If Jason hadn’t saved my life, he would have made it to the hospital in time to talk to Alan. I’m not saying he shouldn’t have, it’s just—I think about it a lot. I know losing his father hit him harder than he expected. And I then I had to body slam him by asking him to give up Jake—”

“Oh, darling—”

“Jake was born, and Jason couldn’t be with him, and oh, I could see how much he loved him. It kills me that I took that time—”

“He had to allow it, dear. He could have said no. You can’t carry that with you—”

“But I do. And I don’t know how to stop. Alan, and then not having Jake, then we got hit with Emily—and then Jason just kept losing. Michael. He loved him so much—loves,” Elizabeth corrected softly. “Because we can’t give up hope. But Jason lost another son. And now his best friend and brother—I just—” Her eyes filled. “I want so badly to do the right thing and I’m so terrible at it. I’ve done nothing but hurt him for so long.”

“I imagine Jason would have a very different opinion on that, but all you can do right now is have a little patience. It’s scarcely been a day. Let him absorb this. You’ll know when to push him. You will,” Audrey insisted when Elizabeth just scoffed, swiped at her tears. “Trust yourself, and Jason, that when the time is right, you’ll both know it. Until then, patience is my best advice.”

“Patience. I’ve never been good at that.” Elizabeth sighed when she heard Cameron in the other room. “He’s starting to talk to himself — he’s getting bored with playing, and he’ll wake Jake.”

“I’ll go fetch him, darling, and bring dinner up for all of us.” Audrey kissed her granddaughter’s cheek and left.

Elizabeth looked around the room — around Jason’s bedroom — and wondered why she couldn’t feel settled. Why it was so hard to believe it was different this time?