Things aren’t the way they were before
You wouldn’t even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me in the end
You kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when I tried so hard
– In The End, Linkin Park

---

Thursday, January 4, 2018

Kiremit House: Lucky’s Bedroom

Lucky set a steaming cup of coffee next to the laptop, then cracked his knuckles, preparing for a few hours of personal research before the rest of the house stirred.  His brother kept to his study most of the time, pouring over old Cassadine records as if he’d find a new truth after more than a year. His father kept late hours, scouring the city when most had gone to sleep. Luke wouldn’t wake until late morning.

Britt was the wild card, but that wasn’t surprising. He’d chosen the second bedroom on the top story of the narrow house, wanting some distance between himself, Luke, and Nikolas. And maybe to annoy his father a little bit, to make Luke wonder about Lucky’s loyalties. It didn’t bother him to be so close to the devious brunette — Lucky knew he couldn’t trust her and didn’t have to pretend that he did.

There weren’t a lot of people in this world Lucky did trust anymore—

The cell phone at his side buzzed — Elizabeth’s face flashed on the screen with a text message preview. Need a video chat. Urgent.

Lucky flicked on the laptop, pulled up the video conferencing software and made the connection. Elizabeth answered almost immediately, her face filling the screen. Behind her, he could make out the dark shadows of the kitchen at the house.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately. “It’s late there, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s—it’s about one in the morning.” Her eyes were tired. “But I wanted to talk to you. Nothing’s wrong. Nobody’s hurt,” she added.

Lucky swallowed hard. She wasn’t going to press him on that last terrible conversation, was she? He didn’t really have it in him—

“What’s going on?”

“Spinelli put together a new folder with files—Lucky, we—” She took a deep breath. “There’s no easy way to say this. Lucky, you were Patient 2.”

The words didn’t process at first. He squinted. “What are you talking about? That’s not possible.”

“Lucky—”

“There’s a mistake. I wasn’t—I mean, what happened to me was years ago. A lifetime. And it wasn’t the WSB—” He wasn’t part of this. No. Not the experiments that had done so much damage to Jake, to his family—

“Lucky,” she said gently. “That’s the reason we didn’t think of you before. But earlier today—yesterday, I guess for you—I found records that began right after the fire. They were on the drive with a prefix for the date of the fire.”

He exhaled slowly, looked up, away from Elizabeth, and blindly out the window overlooking the desk. “I’m—That’s—I’m Patient 2.”

“Yes. And Spinelli found some video files that had the same file prefix. There are four of them. Lucky, I’ve watched them. Jason saw the first one because I wanted to prove that I knew—but no one else has. Or will. They’re security footage of you.”

His chest felt tight, and he couldn’t quite make it work in his head. “Security footage.”

“We think—I think—that Helena intended to use these to taunt your parents. Or me. Or maybe Nikolas. I don’t know. She never had a chance to use them because you didn’t come back on her schedule. But there’s no other reason for them to exist— it’s just videos of you trying to get out.”

“Screaming for someone to let me out,” Lucky murmured. He’d screamed until his vocal cords had seized and he’d lost his voice. For almost two weeks. “Did you read the files?”

“I’m working my way through them, Lucky, but I had Spinelli put them into an encrypted folder for you. Lucky—”

“Thanks. Um—” His mind started to pick up again, started to process, and he was able to think. Elizabeth had made the connection and had stayed up so he could be told personally. And was apparently trying to protect him by not letting anyone else see what happened to him.

Even now, after all these years, her instinct had been to take care of him. Wasn’t that a kick in the face? He sat in this damn house, two floors up from Nikolas, the man Elizabeth believed to be dead, and she was back in Port Charles, raising the boys he’d promised to love as his own. He’d been lying to her for years—

“Thank you,” he repeated, opening his eyes, meeting hers. “For staying up. For doing this. For telling me. I—I’ll go through them, but so should—Jason—and Drew. I mean—” He shook his head, trying to clear the last of the fog. “To see if there are people in common. They were there. The videos, um—Christ.” He put his head in his hands. “This included me. I’m one of the patients.”

“I’m so sorry, Lucky. Is Luke there? Can he—”

“It’s good. It’s fine. Um, it helps that it’s you.” It shouldn’t. He didn’t deserve the consideration. And he didn’t know why it was hitting him like this. He’d known Helena had screwed with his brain, had planted triggers and traps inside his mind to destroy his life and use him as a weapon—why did it matter if his records had a number attached to him?

Because Jake had been the next number? Because Lucky hadn’t been the first or the last? Just one of many.

“Lucky.”

“Hey. Listen.” He looked at the screen, meeting her gaze, almost wishing they were in the same room. “You know—you know that—” All the words he wanted to speak were trapped inside. How could he do this? What right did he have to feel grateful to her when all he did was lie and hurt her? She’d never deserved it. Not even after the affair.  “I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“It’s a hard habit to break,” she admitted ruefully. “And I know that seeing those reports, it brought me back to what happened back then. How hard it was. How much I wish we’d known it wasn’t over. It kills me that the numbers went on. That Jake and Jason and Drew—God, what if there’s a Patient 7, Lucky?”

“We’re going to stop it this time,” Lucky told her. “Jake is the last child they’re going to use. I don’t want our boys to be part of this fight. Never again.” He gripped the sides of the desk. “The boys—and Spencer—all of them. You and I know what it’s like to have our lives destroyed by the Cassadines. We’re finishing it this time, I promise you.” He paused, wincing when he realized he’d referred to the boys as his, and hoped she was too tired to notice. “I’ll go through the files, and you—you show them to anyone who wants them.”

“Okay. Take care of yourself, Lucky.”

“You, too. Go get some sleep.”

“I will. The folder is in the drive with the rest of them, Lucky. Same encryption key.” Her eyes were sad. “Good night.”

The call ended, and Elizabeth disappeared from the screen. With a few clicks, he was inside the folder, and brought up a record at random.

July 12, 1999

Patient 2 is combative and impossible to control. Sedation works for a time, but he’s fighting through it. Developing a tolerance. Have related to Madame that he may not be a good subject for the procedure and that we should consider other methods of control. Madame has sent for Cesar to implement the next stage.

Beneath the report were the initials L.O.

Liesl Obrecht.

Kiremit House: Study

Three hours later, and two floors below Lucky, Luke Spencer was awake and ready to get back to work. Armed with a cup of coffee—his second of the day—he went to relate the progress they’d made the night before to Nikolas.

“I crossed off two sites,” he told Nikolas, setting the cup on the edge of the desk. “The first was a clinic, the second was an office building. No signs of a lab externally. Watched them both yesterday and did some recon last night inside to be sure. People come and go, the inside looks pretty standard. If they’re hiding something more, I can’t find the evidence.”

Nikolas grimaced. “I suppose it’d be too easy to find Valentin in the first two days,” he muttered. “Do you think it would help if you had Lucky on this?”

“Nah. He and Little Obrecht are making some progress on those files. Lucky told me last night they went through the old WSB records. Interesting that so many of them ended up on the old bat’s drive, huh? Looks like old Uncle Vic gave her anything she wanted.”

“The idea that Grandmother had unfettered access to their files isn’t a cheerful thought, no. And why the old Ice Princess files? Was she even involved in any of that?”

Luke shook his head. “Maybe behind the scenes, but never saw her until a few months later when Laura and I got married. It was just the brothers and Alex Q.” He picked up the coffee, took a seat. “I have two more places on the list today, and one of my guys from the old days is scoping a few more addresses. Spinelli gave us a few, too. I’ll start on them in a day or two, when we’ve cleared yours.”

Nikolas sighed, scrubbed his hands down his face. “Just all feels like a wild goose chase sometimes. I wanted to be part of it. Staying in Marseilles while you and Lucky looked for leads into Valentin’s origins and Britt was up in Russia last year — but we still have nothing.”

“Let’s hope that Spinelli gets into Maddox’s files. I’d be mighty interested in Jason’s records and finding out why Little Obrecht couldn’t get him out of that bed.  He says he woke up after she left. You don’t wonder about that?”

“No. She tried to explain the protocol to me once, but it—it didn’t make sense to me. And I looked at the notes we had from Robin. It—” Nikolas made a face. “It’s something about brain waves. And you needed just the right formula to get the brain waves back to consciousness without damage. You can’t just use the same one for each patient. I guess she couldn’t get the formula right, but maybe it stimulated everything enough that he could wake on his own.”

“Still, might be worth talking to her again. Let Cowboy handle the interrogation—”

“You think Britt’s not telling the truth about last year?”

“Hey. I don’t think anyone’s telling the truth, even my own kid. Question everything, that’s the Spencer motto.” Luke shrugged, sipped the coffee. “Don’t see why you trust Britt at all. Maybe she’s a double agent. She went on the run with her father, didn’t she?”

“If I take her at face value, she risked a lot to go to that lab,” Nikolas said slowly. “And I’m inclined to believe that she couldn’t wake Jason on the schedule we needed because he did wake up. Just wish we’d known. We could have extracted him ourselves—”

“And then you’d be forced to reveal yourself because no chance in hell Jason agrees to stay dead so you can go after Valentin Cassadine.” Luke snorted. “Look what he did as soon as he did get out of that lab. Went straight home, could have brought the whole world down around him, but it didn’t matter.”

“What do you make of the fact that nothing’s happened since he came home?” Nikolas asked. “Beyond Anna’s accident and Valentin’s trip here.”

“I think that the guy running that place in St. Petersburg didn’t know what to do with Jason once he was awake. If you’re right, and Britt’s work actually woke the guy, that wasn’t the plan. The doc at the lab sent men after Jason—but it stops when he gets to Port Charles. Because Valentin knows Jason’s awake. No reason to keep covering your tracks when the secret is out.” Klein pulls back, and Valentin takes a minute to assess things.

“What about Anna’s accident?”

“She got into that accident right after Maddox told her about the files. But Valentin doesn’t know that. All he knows is that the PCPD has Maddox for several weeks, then finally gets transferred to a cushy prison. And Anna was the one who questioned him. So whatever she knows from Maddox — he tries to stop her from doing anything with it.” Luke shrugged. “That’s my feeling. I think Valentin was perfectly content to let sleeping dogs lie when Morgan got home. For all he knew, Morgan accepted the conventional wisdom that Victor and Helena were in on it together with assistance from Faison. Valentin’s only connection is Ava Jerome and the clinic visit.”

“Which fits with our theory about Chimera last year,” Nikolas said. “Valentin triggered it and arranged for himself to look like the good guy. We never did find out how those men knew to invade the ballroom and come after it. But he got a lot of goodwill after that, or so you said.”

“Yeah, Laura told Lucky that it was getting harder to find anyone who was angry about what happened to you. Outside the family,” Luke added. “You were, uh, a bit erratic those last few years. Most people were willing to accept the self-defense theory. Not like Ava had a lot of credibility.”

Nikolas grimaced, looked away. “So Valentin was going to let Jason rot in that coma and just live his life. He wanted my money, my power. And once he had it—”

“He acted to secure it. Which means if he’s here in Turkey now, there’s something here he wants.” Luke got to his feet. “Like I said, Nikolas, I may not love the idea of Laura and Lulu mourning you back home, but you being dead used to be the only thing keeping Valentin quiet. Things got all stirred up with Morgan coming home — but they settled back down. You walk back onto the stage, no telling what Valentin does. He nearly murdered a ballroom of people just to boost his reputation.”

“And he’s the one that pilfered Chimera from the WSB for Helena in the first place. No one admitted it was missing until they got it back.” Nikolas met Luke’s eyes. “I’d hate to find out what else he stole from the WSB.”

“You and me both.”

Maslak Lab: Office

Valentin scrolled through his phone, deleting all but Nina’s most current voicemail, keeping one ear on the conversation with Klein.

“We have hopes for Herr Cassadine to awaken within a day or so. His brain waves are stabilizing, and rising towards the level of consciousness—”

Valentin glanced up, frowned. “What? Oh. Right. What do you expect his condition to be when he wakes? Will he be able to talk, to think, answer questions?”

“It’s difficult to say as of yet. His medical records don’t go back very far — he was transferred to this location only three years ago.”

“Three years.” Valentin considered this information. He hadn’t thought to ask how long Stefan had been in Turkey, but it might give him more insight into what Helena had been planning. “When exactly?”

Klein checked his notes. “Ah, November 12, 2014.”

“That…is interesting.” Nikolas had appeared to join his mother’s ranks about that time. Had he learned about his uncle’s survival and hidden him away? Or had Helena worried that Nikolas would find Stefan and moved him? “Do you know where he came from?”

“The lab in Mykonos. It was closed at that time and relocated here, but no one knew why. Most of the people who work here came from there. I’ve been gathering information, but Stefan is the only patient and has been for as long as anyone knows. The longest term of employment is six years.”

“Which means my dear old brother has been a vegetable since at least 2012. His records didn’t come with him?”

“No. Not that we’ve found. Does that matter?”

“It might. Mother never cared much for Stefan,” Valentin said. “If she kept him around, it was for a purpose. I’ve wondered if she used him as motivation for Nikolas, but it’s more likely that the Webber boy was Nikolas’s motivations. He had a way of going along to keep Helena happy, but I thought he was trying to undermine her from within.” But Mother never saw it that way. Nikolas likely would have done anything his grandmother required to protect the boy.

“Back to the matter at hand. You saw Morgan wake from a coma that was five years long. What was his condition?”

“We kept him under sedation,” Klein admitted. “When his brain waves began to improve. But the protocol notes disappeared from the clinic around that time. We had no way of knowing that the sedation meant he was awake, but—” He grimaced. “It was a type of locked-in syndrome.”

“Poor bastard,” Valentine murmured. He wasn’t a monster after all. He’d left Morgan in Russia because he wasn’t useful. But it didn’t mean there wasn’t a twinge of sympathy for someone who couldn’t move or talk or do anything but think. “How long did that last?”

“A few weeks. And once we stopped the sedatives, it took him some time to regain his strength. But he never communicated with us or acquiesced to any of our tests, so it’s really difficult to know. From what we know about the other brother, he had periods of consciousness, but it took a day or so to be fully awake. Most of the records were destroyed when the lab in New York burnt.”

“Yes, that tracks.” And Faison’s daughter had clearly taken the protocol notes with her when she’d left Russia. He’d contacted his father who claimed that he had no idea why Britta would have been doing anything related to Jason Morgan. It worried Valentine that Liesl’s daughter and his half-sister was out there, working on her own agenda, but it was a low priority. He believed his father — for now.

“Keep me informed of the progress. I need to return to Port Charles as soon as possible—” He looked back at his phone, at the text messages from his daughter. “My absence has been noted.”

Kiremit: Lucky’s Bedroom

Britt tapped on the inside door frame, her tablet in hand. “I need your help to make sense of these records—”

Lucky jerked his head away from the laptop screen, frowned at her. “What? What time is it?”

“Almost noon. I have these medical records, but I don’t understand how they fit in with the rest.” She folded her arms, frowned. “What are you doing in here? You haven’t come out all morning.”

“Let me see—” He held out his hand, and she handed him the tablet. “These are about the freezing techniques? Am I reading that right?”

“Yes. But—”

“The date—it’s the weather machine. I told you about that. Alexandra Quartermaine, Tony Cassadine, and Mikkos — they all ended in the machine and died.” Lucky frowned. “But this—this suggests that they’re working on defrosting brain waves.”

Britt sat on the edge of the bed. “Did the WSB take the weather machine apart? Learn anything about how it was built? Or worked?”

“If they did, we don’t have the files yet—” Luke looked at her. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, coming from a pair of supervillains myself, I have to ask — why would you create a machine that might accidentally kill you? Is it possible—knowing what we know about the Cassadines and what they’re capable of—the freezing technique wasn’t designed to kill—”

“Oh, hell.” Lucky exhaled slowly. “Maybe they were experimenting with freezing someone until they could be brought back. Cryogenics. That would explain these medical reports. We know Helena eventually perfected it. They had to start somewhere. Why not here?”

“It’s just a theory.”

“It’s not a bad one. I’ll put it on the list of notes to shoot back to Port Charles.” He handed her back the tablet.

She squinted at the computer screen behind him. “I thought we were supposed to be working on the Ice Princess records—those look more recent—”

“These came over this morning.” Lucky handed her the laptop. “I wanted your opinion on this one.”

Britt skimmed the report, began to read out loud. “Despite previous reports, Patient 2 is susceptible to the control words. After some consultation with Cesar—” Her voice faltered, but then she continued, “we determined that Madame’s request to continue the experiment was possible. Patient 2 was detained after he completed his mission, and Madame used the anchor to instruct Patient 2 that he does not love Elizabeth Webber and never has—” Britt stopped. “What is this?”

“It turns out that Patient 2 was a sixteen-year-old kid from Port Charles.” Lucky looked at her, his eyes grim. “He went to sleep one night in April 1999 with candles burning. They were later blamed for the fire that engulfed the garage where he lived. Patient 2 was removed to a research facility named Crichton-Clark where he was kept for the first two months while a team of doctors kept him sedated, and after some failed procedures that I don’t know about yet, they called in an expert. Cesar Faison came in, created control words, and brainwashed Patient 2 into becoming Helena’s pet.”

He looked back, out the window. “Patient 2 was aggressive, violent, and controlling because he knew something was wrong in his brain, but he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t stop himself from saying and doing things that hurt the people around him. He nearly killed a man with a knife, poisoned his cousin, and committed a variety of other crimes in the name of his queen, Helena Cassadine. Even though his family knew after a certain point that there was brainwashing, they couldn’t break the control. Not fully, and not forever.”

“Lucky—”

“Right before the brainwashing and control over Patient 2 was finally destroyed, they played one more little trick. They told Patient 2 that he didn’t love the girl that had stood beside him at great personal, emotional, and physical risk. And even after the control was broken, Patient 2 never quite came back the way he’d been before. He never loved that girl the way he had before. And he was still aggressive, violent, and controlling. Because he knew something was wrong with him and he was never going to be able to fix it.”

Britt’s throat was tight as Lucky related these facts, his tone even and devoid of emotion. “You were Patient 2.”

“Yes.”

“And Helena used you like a weapon.”

“Yes.” He looked at her. “Go to the bottom of the report, Britt. Look at the initials.”

“I don’t have to,” she said softly. “I knew it as soon as I saw the notes. No one calls him Cesar. No one except my mother. She was your doctor.” She sighed.

“Yes.” He took a bracing breath. “Liesl Obrecht worked on my case and recommended Cesar Faison to brainwash me.”

“1999.” Britt looked at the report. “We lived in New York then. Scarsdale. Mother had a research position. I was in high school. I remembered it as a normal time. She had a steady job, and I was a cheerleader.” Her smile was thin. “You were the stable, steady job that made it possible for me to complete the last two years of high school in one place.” She slid the laptop across the bed. “Patient 2. That’s a long gap between you and Patient 3. Between you and Jake. That’s interesting, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is. Ten years.” Lucky cleared his throat. “You were a cheerleader?”

“Pom-poms and all.” She rose to her feet. “I’d apologize for my mother, but it wouldn’t make a difference. I can tell you I’m sorry for what she did. But she wouldn’t be. You were probably a means to an end. She never cared about the collateral damage. Only for the research. It’s why she never calls you by name.”

“Yeah, well, I guess she didn’t learn enough. Because she went back to work for them.” He looked at her. “If I find out your mother had anything to do with Jake—”

“You don’t need to tell me that my parents have forfeited their lives by what they’ve done. Prison can’t hold them. The world will be a better place when they’re gone.”

I’m on the outside lookin’ through
You’re throwin’ rocks around your room
And while you’re bleeding on your back in the glass
I’ll be glad that I made it out
And sorry that it all went down like it did
– Motion Sickness, Phoebe Bridgers

---

Port Charles High: Cafeteria

Emma clutched the edges of her lunch tray with both hands and scanned the crowded room for Cameron’s burnished gold hair, but all she saw was a sea of unfamiliar faces. She and Cameron had attended a smaller middle school near their neighborhood on Lexington Avenue—Spencer had been away at boarding school, and Joss had gone to a school closer to her home on Harborview Road.

But the high school was city-wide and three times the size of the middle school. Emma hadn’t recognized anyone in her classes that morning. She really hoped Cameron or Spencer were in at least one of the afternoon classes, or this move home was going to be harder than she’d thought.

She’d settle for Trina or Joss at this point, even though she wasn’t entirely sure of herself there. Before her family had moved to Berkeley, Trina had been Emma’s best friend but now—well, now things felt awkward. Trina was dating Emma’s ex-boyfriend. Which was great, of course, and Emma wasn’t jealous at all.

Well, maybe a little, Emma thought as she took another, slower look around the room. She and Cam had always had a shorthand with one another—they could communicate with a look and a few words. A laugh or an eye roll. Emma always knew everything would be okay if she could find Cam in a crowd.

But that had to be done with. And it was. It was totally over. It had been Emma’s decision. If Cam had had his way, they’d have kept up long-distance, but it had been for the best. Cut him loose and let them figure out things on their own.

She bit her lip, unsure what to do if she couldn’t find Cameron at all. She could have sworn—

“Em!”

At the familiar voice, Emma turned and nearly wept in relief. There he was. Cameron. Her touchstone. He was waving at her from a circular table in the corner. Joss was there, laughing at something on the phone with her boyfriend, and Spencer looked all sullen, ignoring whatever Trina was showing him on her school computer.

And Cam was half out of his seat, arm extended high above his head, his smile bright, his eyes just as she remembered.

“Hey. I thought I wouldn’t be able to find you,” Emma said, approaching the table. She set her tray down in the empty space between Cameron and Oscar. “I don’t know anyone, it’s so weird—”

“Yeah, it feels like I never see any kids from Kennedy.” Cameron shrugged. “You get used to it. What classes do you have after lunch?”

“Oh—Honors Geometry with Reilly and French with, um—” Emma scanned her schedule. “Butler.”

“That’s my class,” Trina said, and Emma locked eyes with her on the side of Cam. “I was just telling Spencer—”

“They still won’t let me test out,” Spencer muttered darkly. “I’ve been taking French and Latin since I was a child.”

“So you’ll tutor us,” Trina said easily, with a roll of her eyes. “But geometry, that’s all you and Cam.”

“Cam?” Emma repeated, surprised. “Honors? Really? You almost flunked seventh grade—”

Cameron shrugged. “Not sure what happened, but glad. Can’t get into med school without math.”

“Med school?” Emma repeated. “When—I didn’t know you were interested in medicine.” They talked all the time, she thought. But she didn’t know he wanted to be a doctor. He’d never mentioned it.

“What, like you have the market cornered on being a doctor?” Joss tossed at her from across the table. Emma swung her gaze to the acerbic blonde who had never liked her much. “Anyone can do it—”

“I didn’t—of course—”

“Don’t start, Joss.” Cameron twisted off from top of his Gatorade bottle. “I didn’t think about being a doctor before, but now it’s what I want. We have to start thinking about colleges next year and I want to get a soccer scholarship somewhere.”

Soccer. Something else new. Joss and Trina sharing the same lunch table when they’d wanted to murder one another in elementary school, and the picture tucked into the id pocket of Trina’s computer case reminded Emma that things had changed a lot since she’d moved during eighth grade. The photo was Cam and Trina on the sofa at his mother’s house, smiling, his arm around her neck.

Maybe moving home wasn’t going to be as much fun as she’d thought.

Jerome Gallery: Main Floor

Ava’s heels clicked on the floor, rapidly eating up the distance between the entrance and the exhibit wall where Franco stood, studying the pieces that hadn’t sold at his showing a few months ago.

“It’s about time you showed up. You’re an hour late—”

“I lost track of time,” Franco murmured. He turned to face her, and she scowled. “What?”

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week. What’s wrong with you?” She took a step back. “Are you sick? Because I really don’t have time for your germs—”

“Your concern is touching.” Franco rubbed the back of his neck. “Not sleeping well. I know I owe you some pieces. I’m working on it.”

Ava pursed her lips, tipped her head. “Kiki’s been asking about you. Says you’re not returning her phone calls. I appreciate you’re heartbroken because your little nurse tossed you over, but don’t you think it’s time to stop wallowing?”

“Who says I’m wallowing?” Franco demanded, defensive. “I told you. I can’t sleep.” He rubbed his shoulder. “Some strange dreams. I’ll get you the work I owe.”

“And you’ll call Kiki so she’ll stop worrying about you and complaining to me? Move on, Franco. From what I can see, your nurse isn’t sitting around thinking about you.” Ava left, and Franco glared after her.

Why did everyone have to remind him that Elizabeth had thrown him out, turned her back, and was pretending he didn’t exist?

Well, she’d get hers eventually, Franco thought. Jason would hang around until he got bored and went back to Sam, and then Elizabeth would find out what it was like to be forgotten.

Ashford Investigations: Office

 “Don’t mind the files—” Curtis moved a pile from the chair to his desk. “I’m always in the middle of reorganizing.”

“No worries.” Robert set the file box he’d taken from the PCPD archives in the chair Curtis had cleared. “And thanks for clearing this with Jordan.”

“Yeah, she said she trusted you to keep the chain of custody intact, but she wasn’t all that worried. The case is pretty old, basically ancient history.” He winced, remembering who the commissioner at the time had been. “Well, not ancient—”

“My back and knees remind me every day I’m not as spry as I once was.” Robert removed the box lid, tucked it away. “Not a great deal of physical evidence, I’m afraid.” He held up an evidence bag with a blue dress. “Just some items we found around the house.”

“Take me through the night. From your memories and notes. All I had was the case report, but it’s not the same thing.” Curtis leaned against the desk. “Let’s start from the top. Who was Susan Moore?”

“Well, Susan Moore is how we remember her now,” Robert said, picking up a small notebook, flipping through it and smiling at his cramped handwriting. “But she was Susan Baldwin at the time. She’d married Scotty, oh,” he frowned, trying to place it. “Couldn’t be long before she died.”

Curtis leaned over to his manila folder. “I pulled public records for her. She and Scott Baldwin married the December the year before she died.”

“That tracks. She’d only lived in town a few years. Came here after Heather Webber and her mother, Alice.” Robert paused. “Heather was a different woman back then, you have to know. Manipulative and clever, but the crazy, murdering type — no. What I read about her doing a few years ago to Carly Corinthos—Just doesn’t seem like the same person.” He shook his head. “We start with Heather’s history, we’ll be here a long time. Anyway, Susan’s affair with Alan wasn’t her only brush with the Quartermaine family. She was in a relationship with Tracy’s husband, Mitch Williams, before and after the marriage.”

“Tracy?” Curtis said. He tipped his head. “She’s back in town, you know. I heard about it at Kelly’s. She retired from ELQ last year and went abroad, but she’s home.”

“Really?” Robert said, his eyes sharpening. “When did she get in town?”

“Oh, definitely within the last day or two. She wasn’t here at New Year’s. You think that’s connected?”

“Tracy shows up here right after we bring this to Monica’s attention? Yes, I think it’s worth an extra look.”

“So Susan had a thing for married men.”

“Oh, yeah. Mitch, Alan. Even Scotty was originally Heather’s boyfriend. She recommended his legal services to Susan, and, uh, well, didn’t take it well when Susan got involved with him.” Robert flipped through his notes. “Susan left town when she got pregnant. Had Jason in New York City.”

“That tracks with the birth records we found.” Curtis made a face. “Still can’t understand how the younger twin gets farmed out to Betsy Frank unless we take Heather’s original twin story for the truth. Said the twin died at birth or that Susan never knew, something like that.”

“Yeah, it’s the piece of the puzzle that doesn’t make sense since you’ve dug up evidence that Susan may have known about the boy at some point.” Robert flipped another page. “Alan filed for divorce from Monica after Jason was born, and he and Susan got back together. But then Alan withdrew the divorce and reunited with Monica. It was at that point Susan started to go after the Quartermaine money.”

“Enter Scott Baldwin.”

“He won a trust fund for Jason in the amount of a million dollars. With inflation, that’s easily double if not more today. And tucked away until his eighteenth birthday, the interest would have done him well. It was a good deal.” Robert grimaced. “Which is why there’s no way Susan knew about the second boy at that point.”

“No, she’d have taken double.” Curtis nodded. “That’s what we’ve always known. Okay, so Susan’s got a thing for men who are already taken. I can see why she’d have a few people mad enough to do murder, but there’s a blackmail attempt, too?”

“That brings us to the night of the murder. It was a Friday night,” Robert said. “Susan had arranged for Jason to be away for the night with the housekeeper—she was expecting visitors late that night. Alice Grant — Heather’s mother — witnessed a vicious argument between Susan and Scotty about money spent from Jason’s trust fund. Alice left before Scotty, so she didn’t know how it ended.”

“Okay.”

“Around 9:30, 9:45, Jackie Templeton came over. A reporter for the Herald. Dogged, relentless,” Robert remembered with a fond smile. “Never missed a detail. Susan had invited her over. Said she had a story for her. Jackie waited inside, then saw water coming through the ceiling. Went up to check and found Susan on the floor in her bedroom—”

Robert dug through the box until he found the crime scene photos. “She was dressed in a slip, water running in the tub in the adjoining bathroom. While Jackie was upstairs, Edward, Alan, and Monica arrived. They rushed up at the scream, and then we arrived on the scene.”

“The Qs were there about the blackmail, weren’t they?”

“We didn’t know that then, but yes. Susan had evidence from Crane Tolliver that his divorce from Lila hadn’t been finalized which made Lila guilty of bigamy.” Robert smiled thinly. “Would have been quite the scandal back then, though it seems quaint now. Susan and Tolliver were blackmailing the Qs. The gun found at the scene was later traced by to one kept in the Quartermaine study.”

“All roads leading to them.”

“They claimed they were there to talk about Jason and finances, but I never bought it for a moment. It was ten at night,” Robert said, “on a Friday. And Monica wouldn’t have been there. Not a chance in hell. She spent most of her time trying to pretend the kid didn’t exist.” His brow furrowed. “I’ll never forget it. Alan realized Jason wasn’t in his room and he was worried. He wanted us to look for the boy. Monica and Edward? Couldn’t be bothered. Wanted Alan to focus on what really mattered.”

“That seems cold.”

“Monica was colder than ice back then. She always treated Alan’s affair with Susan as some sort of devastating crime when she’d been the one to cheat first. In fact, AJ Quartermaine’s paternity was in doubt for some time,” Robert reported. “Monica started the cheating. Alan just continued it. I always found that hypocritical, but—” He paused. “Jackie’s presence was why I doubted Tolliver’s story about the blackmail. He claimed he killed Susan because she was going to burn the evidence of Lila’s bigamy and scuttle their plans.”

“But why invite a reporter?”

“I think she was there as a reminder to the Quartermaines what might happen if she went public with those charges. But Tolliver confessed, and he’d created an alibi for himself. A drunk with his ID was put into a jail cell,” Robert clarified. “So the evidence made sense, it’s just left unanswered questions.”

“Like why was Jackie Templeton there?”

“And when exactly did Susan change her will from descendant to descendants?” Robert looked through the box. “The rest of this is related to suspects we later ruled out. Scotty looked good for it for a while. He had motive, opportunity — we arrested him, but couldn’t make it stick. And when we found the Quartermaine gun, we took a closer look at them, but—”

“Tolliver confessed.”

“And then died in the hospital before we could push it.” Robert paused for a long moment. “Tracy Quartermaine never liked Monica. She saw Monica’s son as a competitor for a trust fund from Edward’s father, set up for the oldest grandson, which was her son Ned until AJ was born. And she’s never been wild about Quartermaine relatives showing up for a piece of the pie at ELQ. The million-dollar trust fund would have been more money that wouldn’t go to her son.”

“You think she’s the one that put Drew in the foster system?”

“I think it’s interesting to ask why she’s back after all this time.” Robert nodded. “Perhaps we should look more closely at Tracy Quartermaine.”

Pozzulo’s: Dining Room

Michael stepped into the restaurant, glanced around the few diners eating an early dinner, looking for Sonny. He found him at a back booth with a glass of wine.

“You left a message?” Michael slid into the booth. “Said it was urgent. Did something happen?”

“It’s urgent but not serious. Thanks for coming. I, uh, know I’m not your favorite person,” Sonny said, stroking his chin. “But Jason listens to you.”

“Jason?” Michael repeated. He leaned back. “What about him?”

“Sam filed for divorce last month. You know about that, right?”

“Yeah. She went nuclear on pretty much everything. I know Jason was thinking about letting her have her way on Danny, not wanting to put him through any of it, but I was hoping between me and Elizabeth, we talked him out of it. Did something happen?”

“Diane told me we got subpoenas for the business. The coffee business. Sam’s demanding half of that.”

Michael exhaled slowly, then shook his head. “Well, that’s a stupid move. But I’m sure Jason can handle it. I don’t see how this is my problem.”

“It’s—I went to see Sam today. To see if maybe I could talk her down. You know, maybe she was just mad and not thinking. Or Alexis just wasn’t thinking. I wanted to believe it was all a mistake. But Sam knows exactly what she’s doing.” Sonny pressed his lips together. “It got…heated. I didn’t mean to argue, but she just…it pisses me off, what she’s doing to Jason, and I got the feeling that maybe she’s starting to have second thoughts.”

Michael frowned. “About what? Going so nuclear, or—”

“About which brother she took home. I think maybe she’s heard Jason hooked up with Elizabeth, and that always makes her angry.” Sonny dragged a hand down his face. “And you know, maybe she’ll start thinking of ways to get him back.”

“I’m still not seeing how this involves me,” Michael said. “So what if Sam decides she made a mistake? Jason’s done with that. I’ve seen him with Elizabeth. They’re happy.”

“You’re too young to remember any of this, but I just have a bad feeling—”

“How is this any of your business or mine? You know, I’d expect this from Mom, but not you. I get it, if Sam gets access to some of the financials, it puts you and Jason in a rough spot. But that’s the risk you took. As for Sam wanting Jason back? Well, that’s Jason’s problem. Not mine. I’m staying out of his business. You and Mom should try it some time.”

Morgan’s Auto: Jason’s Office

 Elizabeth stopped in the doorway of Jason’s office, frowning slightly when her approach hadn’t seemed to be heard. His head was bent over an open manila folder and didn’t budge. She knocked lightly on the inside of the door frame, and he jerked up, blinking. “Hey. You haven’t been doing that all day, have you?”

“What?” Jason cleared his throat. “Oh, no. Monica came by earlier. And Carly.” He got to his feet and came around the desk to kiss her lightly. She sighed, trying not to show her disappointment when the embrace was brief, nothing more than the brushing of their lips. He closed the door behind her. “Spinelli told me what you found at work.”

“I didn’t get very far — I was only reading on my break.” She dropped her bag on his empty chair, stripped off her white winter jacket. “The place looks—and smells—better already. The cleaning crew came through?”

“Yeah. And the bathroom guys will be here this weekend.” Jason went back to his desk, his fingers trailing over the records he’d been reading. “Spinelli—”

“How did it go with Carly?” Elizabeth asked, not wanting to talk about the files yet. It would take over their entire evening, just like it had yesterday. And she already knew from Spinelli Jason hadn’t spent much time out of the office today. She just wanted a little bit more normal.

“Oh.” He frowned. “Okay. She was happy, just like you said. Especially when I told her it was an unlimited budget. She was good. And Monica. She said she wanted to do dinner or something. With me. And you. The boys, too. All of us, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s good. I hope she’s reaching out to Drew. She backed off a lot last month, I guess. After everything with AJ, and the way Michael was taking it. I don’t know. I noticed she was a bit more distant. She’s probably thinking a lot about Alan these days.” Elizabeth grimaced, suddenly remembering the conversation with Drew before the holidays. She should follow up on that with him. Maybe he’d left it alone — maybe there’d been nothing to find. “I’ll call her and set it up.”

“Good. Good. Spinelli said you think you found Lucky’s files.”

Well, she’d delayed the conversation as much as she could. “I don’t just think.” Elizabeth retrieved a tablet from her bag and flicked her fingers across the surface. “He sent me the link to the secure folder he set up with the videos. I watched the first one.” Her throat was tight. “It’s security footage, Jason. Of Lucky in captivity. The day we—” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. How could the pain still feel so clear after all this time? “The day of the memorial service.”

Jason took the tablet and pressed the play button on the screen. The room was sparse, with a twin bed. Some metal shelving. And a boy on his knees at the door. There was a scraping sound.

Then the boy got to his feet and started banging on the door, screaming. “Come on! Show your face, you coward! Why are you keeping me here? Why are you keeping me here?”

 Lucky’s voice. Lucky trying to escape. Jason set the tablet down. “Why would Helena keep that?”

“Why would she go to the trouble of giving me a fever so high that I was delirious and bringing me all the way to Spoon Island?” Elizabeth’s eyes burned. “To let me hold Jake, to let me see him, and hear his voice. And then to make sure no one would ever believe me. Why would Helena do this? To taunt Laura. To torture Luke. Because she could.”

He sat down, staring at the still image of Lucky Spencer, forever sixteen, banging on a door, screaming to be let out. “Do you think the rest of them are like this?”

“I don’t know. I just…” Elizabeth brushed at a tear. “I don’t know why we didn’t think of Lucky being one of the patients. Maybe because Victor wasn’t involved with him. At least that we knew of. But Faison was. He was in charge of the brainwashing, or at least that’s what we thought at the time. He was brought to a lab here in New York. Just like Jake and you. And Drew. Helena kept you all close enough—” She turned away, dug the heels of her palm into her eyes.

Jason set down the tablet, came to her, and drew her into his arms. “Spinelli told me. It wasn’t far from here.”

She gripped his shoulders tightly, then pulled back. “To think of our little boy so close. To know that Lucky was a few hours away while Laura nearly killed herself from the grief, Nikolas spiraled out of control with Katherine Bell, and well, you know what I was dealing with—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I need to be the one to talk to Lucky about this. Or maybe it needs to be Laura, but Lucky’s sensitive about that time period—” She saw the grimace cross his face. “Jason.”

“No, I get it—”

“This isn’t like—” She sighed, watched him go back to the desk. “It’s not like before, all right? It isn’t. This isn’t that terrible blind faith I had in him. Or the guilt that kept me feeling trapped when we were married. This is about that boy, screaming to be let out. And the girl who was saying goodbye in a church the same day.” She took a deep breath. “For the boy who never came home. And all the people around him who never let him forget that.”

Jason hesitated, then looked at her. “He’s clear, though. From the brainwashing — that was over, wasn’t it? You were sure of it when it happened the last time?”

“Yes. As far as we know — and there’s never been any evidence since that last time. Since Stavros and Endgame.” Elizabeth took the tablet back, put it in her back. “We’ll know for certain when we go through the files, but I think Helena’s plans for Lucky were scuttled because the brainwashing wasn’t strong enough. She turned her attention to other methods. To the trigger she put in Jake’s head. And the memory experiments on you and Drew. And whatever she did to Patient 4, who we still don’t know anything about.”

She considered her next words carefully. “I understand that Lucky is a difficult subject between us. I hurt you every time I chose him.” She met his gaze. “But this—Lucky is where I started in all of this. If Helena targeted you—and Drew—and Jake—because of me, it starts with this. With Lucky and Endgame. She hated me so much that she wanted me dead, and even that wouldn’t have been good enough for her. She thought I was dead, Jason, when she brainwashed Lucky into forgetting me. That’s how much she wanted to erase me. So when I say that I want to be the one to handle this part of it, it’s because of the history I shared with Lucky, but it’s also because —” She paused. “If I had gone away with you when you wanted me to, I wouldn’t have been there. And maybe Helena wouldn’t have hurt him again. I feel responsible for part of it. She made it about me.”

Jason nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’re not going to argue because you won’t win or because you understand?” she asked skeptically.

“Okay, I understand why you think this is how it has to be,” Jason told her. “I know what it’s like to blame yourself when you shouldn’t. I blamed myself when Michael was shot. I knew, logically, that wasn’t my fault. And Danny being kidnapped the day he was born — I blamed myself for that. You tried to tell me it wasn’t my fault. But it felt like it was. It still does. I don’t know how to make that go away.” He pressed his lips together. “If you think that talking to Lucky about the Patient 2 files and handling that part of it—if you think that will make part of it go away for you, then I want that.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth nodded, a bit shaky. She went to him at the desk. “Okay. It’s not about protecting Lucky. Not like that. He’s not a factor for me anymore. You trust that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I trust that. I trust you.” Jason took her hand, kissed the tips of her fingers. “I just hate that you still blame yourself for anything that happened with him after the fire.”

“I don’t know how to let go of it. How to wish I’d been smarter, faster, more clever, I guess. To spare not just Lucky — but myself. To spare Lucas Jones who was poisoned, or Tony who was blackmailed into helping Helena revive Stavros so that she’d save Lucas. And for poor Chloe, who Stavros murdered. We thought we broke the brainwashing and we just let it go for all those months.” She sighed. “We thought it was over, Jason. And went on with your lives. I’m tired of being wrong. I’m tired of thinking we’ve beat Helena back, only to find more evidence of her evil.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “And I’m terrified we’re going to find a video of that night in the lab, holding my little boy, and watching her take him away all over again. She was going to break him and use him and hurt him just like she did Lucky. That sweet boy who saved my life. I could never, ever, save him. No matter how much I tried. I don’t want that for you and for Drew, and for Jake. I want it to be over.”

“It will be over.” He put an arm around her shoulders, kissed the top of his head. “We’ll make it over. Let’s go home and see Jake. You’ll feel better when you can hold him and remember that he did come home.”

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

---

NEXT WEEK

Britt’s throat was tight as Lucky related these facts, his tone even and devoid of emotion. “You were Patient 2.”

“Yes.”

“And Helena used you like a weapon.”

“Yes.” He looked at her. “Go to the bottom of the report, Britt. Look at the initials.”

“I don’t have to,” she said softly. “I knew it as soon as I saw the notes. No one calls him Cesar. No one except my mother. She was your doctor.” She sighed.

“Yes.” He took a bracing breath. “Liesl Obrecht worked on my case and recommended Cesar Faison to brainwash me.”

—

“Monica, you don’t—”

“No, you have to understand that I look back at that woman, that version of myself, and it horrifies me. Jason was a child, just a baby really. And maybe if I had been more accepting,” she said slowly, “Edward might not have fought so hard against the trust fund that was set up. And maybe Susan wouldn’t have hidden you away, if that’s what she did. I’ll never understand why she did that—if you’re right, and she knew. I never—I don’t understand it, Drew. But if I had been a better person, you would have been ours.” She met his gaze. “You must believe that if we could have brought you home, we would have. It would have been the delight of Alan’s life to have another child.”

—

Frisco was quiet for a long moment. “I understand your frustration. I do. And I don’t like this stain any more than you do. We’ve given our time, our energy, our lives to this agency. I gave up my family. My girls. I can never get any of that back, Anna. But even if I could get you in to see Andre, he’d never tell you more than he already has. There’s no reason for him to.”

“Well, then I will find a reason to make him, Frisco, and when I do, you will let me in to see him. I won’t be taking no for an answer.”

As I walked out on the ledge
Are you scared to death to live?
And I’ve been running all my life
Just to find a home that’s for the restless
And the truth that’s in the message
Making my way away, away
– Still Breathing, Green Day

---

Wednesday, January 3, 2000

General Hospital: Staff Room

Elizabeth twisted off the cap from her water bottle, took a sip, then prepared to dive into another set of medical records. She had a fifteen-minute break, and she thought if she could get through her stack of files by the end of the week, maybe Jason would, too. And then they could put it away and do something—anything—else on the weekend.

She wanted answers, too, and of course, she worried about the danger. Anna’s car accident had certainly been a sobering experience—but it had been the only sign since Jason’s arrival that there was anyone willing to kill to continue keeping secrets. And what if it had been just a car accident?

What if there was nothing more than the greedy Valentin who had murdered Nikolas to get his filthy hands on the Cassadine fortune and had used Chimera to gain some sympathy? Valentin could have known of his mother’s plans without participating or intending to continue them.  It would be nice if there was nothing else out there haunting them.

But they’d never know for sure who was involved without checking off every item on the list — which included the files. Elizabeth flipped from a brain scan to a medical report. She sat up, her heart pounding when she saw the date at the top of the page.

April 25, 1999

Patient 2 has been admitted to my care under sedation. He is a healthy, sixteen-year-old male, five feet nine inches, 132 pounds.

Her fingers tightened, and her eyes blurred. It’s not Lucky. It’s not Lucky.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Why hadn’t she thought of this—why hadn’t it occurred to her—the wave of grief swept over her, quick and keen, just as if she was still sixteen-years-old, standing in front of Marcus Taggert, assuring him over and over again it wasn’t Lucky. That it couldn’t be Lucky—

“You good?”

She looked up, saw the concerned eyes of Griffin Munro standing over her. He sat across from her. “What’s wrong?”

Elizabeth cleared her throat, swiped at an errant tear. “Ghost from a lifetime ago. Um—” She held up the medical report. “We’re reading old files from the Cassadines. Hoping to find Jason or Drew’s records so we can maybe reverse the procedure on Drew. But there’s thousands of them, and—”

She thought of the brain scan that had been attached to the report and reached for it. “This—can you tell me anything about it?” Griffin was a neurosurgeon. Not as good as Patrick, but then again, no one was.

Griffin held it up to the light, squinted. “Looks good. Healthy brain. No damage. Why?”

“No, that makes sense. Um, thanks.” It felt wrong somehow to tell him about Lucky, to tell anyone who hadn’t lived through that horrible time that Lucky was one of the patients.

Now, they knew the identities of every patient except for 1 and 4. and Lucky gave them a timeline that far exceeded what they’d been working with.

“Elizabeth?”

“I’m okay. I just—I trust you,” Elizabeth told him. “And if this were just mine, I’d tell you everything. But it’s not, you know?”

“I get it. But you know where to find me if you need anything.” He squeezed her hand, then took his coffee, and left the staff room.

Elizabeth picked up the manila folder where she’d found the scans, ran her fingers over it. These must be Lucky’s records. Had there been anything else? She picked up her cell phone.

Spinelli answered on the first ring. “Hello, Fair Elizabeth. You’ve reached the Jackal. How may I assist you?”

“Spinelli. Hey.” She paused. “You said that there were no file structures, right? Like folders. It was all just thrown together.”

“Yes. I tried to match things by the file name and the date of creation. I was quite fortunate as most of the files retained their original creation date when they were moved into the thumb drive. Did you find something?”

“The folder I took — you labeled it 2423—” Her voice trailed off. Oh, God. “99,” she finished. “Um, sorry, let me repeat that. 242399. Why did you use that label?”

“Probably because those files all had the same prefix. One moment, I shall look at my records—yes. Yes. I printed all those files, and filled three folders with those documents, and then four video files—”

“Video files.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Okay. I need you to set them aside, Spinelli. Those videos. I need you to put them separately—and that prefix. They go together. They’re all—”

“Elizabeth?” His tone changed. “Should I get Stone Cold?”

“No. No. I’m—” Elizabeth paused. “It’s not that it’s serious. Or urgent.” No, it couldn’t be. It had been almost twenty years ago. “But I know what that prefix stands for and who these files are about.”

“Can I pass a message?”

“Yeah, I guess. Um, the prefix is for Patient 2,” she said. “I found Patient 2.”

“You sound sure.”

“I am. It’s Lucky. Lucky’s Patient 2. And these are his. Those videos, don’t watch them yet. Please. Let me do that first—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Just put them in a folder or something so I can make sure Lucky finds them.”

“Of course, Elizabeth. I will tell Stone Cold and set these files aside for you to share when you’re ready. Can I—can I ask when Lucky would have been part of this? I mean, for our timeline—”

“It’s right there in the file name. The date of the fire. April 23, 1999. When Helena kidnapped him, and we thought he was dead. So whatever she was doing, whatever this is—it goes back at least that far.” And God only knew how much more than that. No wonder the Ice Princess had been part of the records.

Just what had Helena done to Lucky that made him part of these experiments? Why had she needed his brain scans? How many lives had Helena destroyed?

Jones-West Apartment: Kitchen

Maxie was unwrapping the last chocolate Popsicle in the freezer when she heard her husband’s voice drawing closer.

“You deserve so much better—” Nathan appeared, one hand holding a phone to his ear, the other scratching his head. “Nina—”

Maxie scrunched up her nose and slid the Popsicle in her mouth. Nina still wasn’t that fond of her sister-in-law, though she was a little bit less frosty once they’d announced her pregnancy.

“Yeah. Okay. Okay.” Nathan finally put the phone down, then frowned at her. “Is that a Popsicle? It’s not even eleven in the morning.”

“The baby wants what it wants.” Maxie shrugged, then leaned against the counter. “So, Nina still complaining about Valentin being gone?”

“Yeah. He’s not returning calls or when he does, he’s waiting until he knows she can’t answer.” His expression was dark. “I don’t like this. We know he’s part of all of this, but she’d never believe me if I told her.”

“Even now?” Maxie wanted to know. “I mean, she clearly suspects something is up. She’d be a great ally—”

“She thinks he’s having an affair.” Nathan yanked open the fridge, found his protein drink. “She’s never wanted to listen to me about him. He plays a good game, but he’s just using her.” He grimaced. “And if we told her what we think Valentin is guilty of, she’d just tell him. And you’d lose any leverage.”

“Yeah, I guess there’s that.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I know it bugs you that Nina won’t take your warnings seriously. And Spinelli agrees with you, for what it’s worth. He doesn’t want us to tip Nina off that we know about Turkey.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, Spinelli’s right.” Nathan sighed. “My sister can’t be trusted. Not until Valentin does something truly terrible and forces her to see the truth. I just hope that day comes soon.”

ELQ: Michael’s Office

If Ned wasn’t satisfied with this proposal, then Michael didn’t know what numbers would make his cousin happy —

He glanced up at the knock on his open door, then smiled a bit quizzically when his older, half-brother stepped inside. “Dante. Hey. Did—” He frowned. “Did we have a meeting or something that I missed?”

“No. No,” Dante Falconieri said as he came into the office. “I was just in the neighborhood and your secretary said you were between meetings. I talked to my mother a while ago and she said that Tracy’s back in town, making a stink about ELQ. Figured I’d touch base. See how things were.”

“Yeah, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Michael got to his feet. “You want anything to drink or—”

“Nah, I’m good. Things have been, uh, a little frosty, I guess since the holidays.” Dante tipped his head. “Or since all that business with your dad came up again.”

Michael grimaced, then went to get himself some water. “You’re not here to plead Sonny’s case, are you?”

“Hey. I wouldn’t do that to you, you know that. And while Dad and I have worked hard to build a relationship, I’m not blind to his flaws. If you’ve decided that you can’t live with what he did after all, then I’m not telling you different.” Dante paused. “I just feel like maybe Tracy coming home to take another stab at ELQ after all that probably didn’t help.”

“I’m not losing sleep over it, if that’s what you mean. She can give me a headache, but she doesn’t have enough pull to make anything else happen.” Michael returned to his desk. “I have the shares I inherited, my father’s shares. I have Jake’s proxy, too. So I have more than she does.”

“And the rest of the Qs are on your side, too, aren’t they?”

“Last time I checked, yeah. I can’t see Drew wanting to vote against me, or Oscar. I just met him, but he seems like a good kid.” Michael considered the question. “I haven’t really talked to Sam since any of this went down, but she and Tracy hate each other. So, yeah, I’m in good shape.”

“Strange, don’t you think?” Dante asked. “Her coming all this way to make a fuss when she doesn’t have the control to make any changes. Ma thinks you should just, you know, be on your guard.”

“No, I get that. And I appreciate the check-in. But you’ve got your hands full as it is.” Michael lifted his brows. “Or is Charlotte finally settling down?”

“You know, I think we’re gonna turn a corner eventually,” Dante said slowly. “It hasn’t been easy, and we’re still in the middle, really. Charlotte grew up with Claudette as her mother, so Lu sliding in—it’s not gonna happen overnight. I know she’s acted out a bit.”

“A bit?”

“A lot,” Dante admitted. He dragged his hand through his hair. “To be honest, Michael, it’s mostly calmed down except Charlotte’s still picking at Aiden Webber all the time.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it. She’s not that friendly in general, but with Aiden, it’s like she’s dug in for the long haul.”

“I saw what she did on Thanksgiving. She’s not just going after Aiden, Dante. She takes shots at all three of Elizabeth’s kids. Aiden’s just the easiest target because they’re the same age.”

Dante grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t like how that looks. We got no choice but to deal with Valentin, and he’s supposedly behind all this crap with Jason and maybe he played a larger role in what happened to Jake last year — Lu’s trying to keep out of it, mostly, but it’s getting harder. Maybe Charlotte’s not the easiest kid to deal with, but we hate sending her back. Feels like it makes it worse.”

“I can’t imagine what that’s like. I’m sorry.”

“I know they’re taking their time figuring out Valentin’s role, if he played one. But it’d be great if we could hurry it up and get him out of our lives already.”

Garage: Lobby

Anna swung the door open and made a face when she stepped inside. “You’re not planning to be open soon, are you?”

Spinelli’s head popped up from the counter, his expression relaxing when he recognized her. “Oh. No. Stone Cold’s got Valkyrie redecorating. What brings you in?” He frowned. “I wasn’t expecting you, was I?”

“No, no. I was driving past, and I thought I’d check in. I had a call from Robert, he’s working with Curtis on something in Drew’s background, but he wouldn’t say what. Drew knows, so—” Anna wrinkled her nose. “We’re planning to meet in a few days, to have Luke call in from Turkey to see how things are going.”

“We haven’t heard anything,” Spinelli muttered. “I still think someone should go—” He looked at her. “Don’t you?”

“I talked to Frisco last night, and he finally offered some field agents from the Istanbul office. I put Luke in touch with them.” She sighed. “But my assignment, such as it is, is to remain close to Jason and Drew and monitor things from here. To be here when you break into Maddox’s files.”

Spinelli flexed his fingers on the keyboard, glaring at the screen. “That’s not going well. The encryption is layers thick, and you have to do it all at once, so I’m peeling each layer back individually, then being shoved all the way back to the beginning every time I fail. I’ll get there, but it’ll take time.” He glanced at her. “Still no chance the WSB will get us in to talk to Maddox?”

“I’ve pulled the strings I have left, Spinelli. Frisco sends his regrets, but even as head of the agency, he still has politics to answer for, and those who fund the WSB very much want to sweep this under the rug. Jason and Drew are alive and returned to their lives. Why keep digging?” She shook her head. “It’s terrible, but it’s where we are. Robert and I won’t stop. I promise.”

“And neither will I,” Spinelli said. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to destroy all these lives at once. We still don’t know why or how they went about a lot of their business. And until we have those answers, we can’t know for sure it’s over.”

Aurora: Drew’s Office

Diane slid on her reading glasses and flipped through the paperwork one more time before sliding it across the desk towards Drew. “If you could put your initials on the marked pages—”

“Feels bloodless,” Drew murmured, but did as she asked, scribbling his signature and initials wherever she pointed. “I’ve seen Kim, what, once, twice since all this started?”

Diane lifted her brows. “Do you want me to stall this out? I mean, you seemed pretty clear on what you wanted a few months ago—”

“Yeah.” Drew sighed, stared at the petition. Andrew Cain. Kimberly Nero. They had a past, these two names. He’d seen the wedding photos on his one brief visit to the house. And he’d asked her for a divorce almost before all of this had settled. He hadn’t thought about her, not really. They’d had a plan, he and Sam. Divorce the spouses neither of them wanted and remarry each other.

Two months. Was that really all the time that had passed?

“Drew?”

He looked up, caught Diane’s eye. “This is fine. It’s just…when you see it in print, it’s real. I existed before Port Charles in a world that I don’t remember. With people that I left behind, unintentionally or not.”

“It’s a lot to take in, and I think you—and Jason—are doing the best you can under the circumstances.” She pressed her lips together. “Am I, uh, putting together any paperwork for a new marriage? Maybe a prenuptial agreement?”

Drew’s smile was faint. Diane would never change — she’d wanted a prenup when he’d remarried Sam, and he’d turned her down. Sam was supposed to be his forever.

“No. No marriage. I don’t—” He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen there. I moved out. I’m at the hotel right now.” He tapped the paper. “Like I said on the phone, I just want to get everything in order. Sam and I were already getting a divorce to clear everything up, but we didn’t include the kids.”

“No, as I recall that paperwork was meant to be clean. You walked in with what you brought to the marriage.” Diane pursed her lips. “There’s also the small matter of Scout’s birth certificate. Ah, legally—”

Drew sighed. “Right. Her birth certificate says Jason Morgan—”

“Legally, she’s his daughter. And Danny is his, as we well know.  Now, Scout isn’t an issue. Jason will sign a termination petition the moment we place it in front of him, and it’ll be a quick hearing to get you on the paperwork—”

“It never stops, does it? It just keeps going.” Drew slid the completed divorce paperwork across the table. “I know Danny can’t be part of the agreement. At least not until she and Jason settle things. But I want—I need my name on Scout’s birth certificate. Can you make that a priority?”

“We should be able to get it on the calendar by the end of the month. Don’t worry about anything, Drew. I’ll take care of it.”

Morgan’s Auto: Jason’s Office

Spinelli knocked on the inside of the door. “Stone Cold?”

“Hmm—” Jason glanced up from a report about weather machines and death by freezing. “What’s up?”

“I just—Fair Elizabeth contacted me with a few follow up questions—” He pursed his lips. “She said she’d be by later to talk about it with you, but that I could relay the information myself.”

“What did she find?”

“While reading the files, she identified Patient 2.” Spinelli’s expression was sober. “Lucky Spencer. Kidnapped on April 23, 1999. I looked at the files when she hung up. He was admitted a few days later to Crichton-Clark, a lab that the WSB was running as a front for some of their research. It burned down a few years ago, but it was here in New York.”

“Lucky.” Jason leaned back, thought about what it must have been like for Elizabeth to find those records, if it had taken her back to a darker, dangerous time, or if she’d been taken all the way back to that terrible April night.

He’d never forget the way she’d crumpled at Taggert’s feet. Jason had stood there, frozen, while Sonny had caught her before she’d hit the ground. He’d known Helena had kidnapped and brainwashed Lucky, but for some reason, it had felt separate from all of this. Like another lifetime. “She’s sure?”

“Yes. And so am I. The first report is dated just after the fire here in Port Charles and describes Lucky. There are also video files.”

“Videos,” Jason repeated, a bit slowly. He wondered what they’d see. Videos of Lucky in captivity, of the procedures themselves? “Are there a lot of videos on the drive?”

“More than a few. I’ve been organizing by file prefixes. That’s how she made the connection,” Spinelli explained. “The prefix matches the date of the fire.”

Videos. Were there videos of Jason? Videos of Drew? Jake? What if they were just security videos Helena had saved? What would it be like to watch yourself being experimented on? Jason hadn’t been around for the worst of Lucky’s brainwashing, but he’d been the victim of it. “What does she want to do with them?”

“She asked me to collect everything into one folder so Lucky can find it. Fair Elizabeth wishes to tell him herself. Other than that, I don’t know.”

He’d talk to her later then, to see how to handle it. “Okay. Thanks.” He paused. “Did you— you said you looked at the files. Do you know what they did to him?”

“I just looked at the first few records to get a sense of it. But he was brought to the lab under sedation and kept him that way. Not a coma.”

“So that came later or maybe they didn’t want it for Lucky. Okay. Thanks—” Spinelli turned when he heard the front lobby door open. “I’ll go check on that.”

“Okay.”

A moment later, Monica was in the doorway, her cheeks a bit flushed. “I’m sorry to just show up here without—”

“You can always stop by,” Jason interrupted, and she smiled at him. “Now if Edward were to just show up without invitation—” He stopped. “I forgot for a minute,” he realized, and her smile turned wistful. “He was—he was still here when I—”

“He always did seem immortal. He passed just a little while later. He never knew—I think if he’d lost another grandchild or thought he had, it would have killed him then and there. He never gave up hope you’d come back to us.”

Jason nodded, his throat tight. “Yeah. I have—I have regrets. I should have made more of an effort after Alan died, but I guess I thought the old man—I never thought he’d die, to be honest.”

“Neither did the rest of us.” Monica looked around the office. “Uh, this is…nice.”

Jason decided not to tell her that her words had been almost identical to Carly’s that morning. “We’re working on it. A cleaning crew got the worst of it today, and I have someone who’s going to make it—” He gestured. “Better.”

“Oh, good, so I don’t have to pretend.” Monica cleared her throat. “I was hoping that we could—I’ve been trying to let you settle in. You and Drew,” she added. “But Michael told me about this place, and that you and Elizabeth are seeing each other again.”

“Yeah. Yeah, um—” Jason felt a bit out of sorts. He and Monica had been better when he’d gone off the pier, but he still hadn’t quite shared his life with her. But she was already in that life, wasn’t she? With Michael and Elizabeth’s children. “Yeah, I know Elizabeth would love to have you for dinner one night. Or something. The boys haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving, I think.”

“I try to keep busy around the holidays,” Monica admitted. “To keep myself from thinking about all the people who aren’t there. But I’d love to have dinner. I’ll call Elizabeth.” She hesitated. “Not that my opinion matters, but I’ve grown to be very fond of Elizabeth, you know. Having her around sometimes feels like your sister is still with us. You couldn’t do better than her, I’m sure you know that.”

“I do.”

“Good. Good. I’ll see you.”

When she was gone, Jason exhaled in a rush. He hoped it would get easier to be with Monica. To be around everyone who wasn’t Elizabeth, Spinelli, and the boys. Even with Sonny and Carly, it felt like he was walking on eggshells. Like he’d say or do the wrong thing, even if that didn’t make any sense.

He sat back at the desk and reached for another file. He wanted that terrible feeling of not belonging to go away — and it would when he knew everything that had happened to him.

Back to work.

All the writers keep writing what they write
Somewhere another pretty vein just dies
I’ve got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see
That you’re the antidote to everything, except for me
A constellation of tears on your lashes
Burn everything you love
Then burn the ashes
In the end everything collides
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see
My songs know what you did in the dark
– My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark, Fall Out Boy

---

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

 Metro Court: Restaurant

 Nina Reeves-Cassadine tossed the phone down with a huff, then glared at her breakfast partner. “That son of a bitch. When he comes home, I’m going to twist his balls off—you’re not even listening to me.”

“Huh?” Franco Baldwin blinked, then focused on the aggrieved redhead. “Sorry. No. You were complaining about Valentin again. I didn’t care, so I stopped listening.”

Her scowl deepened, but then she sighed, her expression fading from fury into resignation. “Everything was so lovely on New Year’s,” she murmured. “He’d been distracted for months, but that night, it was just like Morocco again.”

Franco was trying to care, he really was. Nina was one of the few friends who hadn’t turned her nose up at him after his disastrous breakup with Elizabeth, but all she cared about these days was her stupid step kid and marriage.

“Look, I get that my problems aren’t all that interesting—”

Franco tuned back in because he realized she was glaring at him. “What?”

“You’re still not listening. You know, a brick wall would be a better friend than you right now—”

Franco rubbed his neck, sat back. “I didn’t sleep well,” he said finally because that was partially the truth. He hadn’t slept well in months. The strange dreams about his childhood and the brother who wasn’t his brother, and now the dreams had shifted to hospital beds and restraints— but as his father had so recently reminded him, he didn’t have so many bridges left in this stupid town that he could afford to burn another. Time to be a good friend. Or something.

“Look, your husband is being an asshole. When he gets home, scream at him all you want. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s ruined your day. Threaten to have an affair. I don’t know. Pick whatever terrible advice you want me to say, then take it. Or ignore it. Just stop whining already and do something.”

“Oh, I’ll do something,” Nina bit out. She shoved her chair back and stood, then stalked out of the restaurant. Franco rolled his eyes. So much for staying in her good graces — he’d let her sulk and find her later.

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

Ned poured himself another cup of coffee, then sat at the table. “Well, Mother, how was your first night back? Did you sleep well?”

“Who redecorated my bedroom?” Tracy demanded. She slid a suspicious glance at Ned’s wife of only a few months, Olivia. “Was it you?”

“No.” Olivia said nothing else, which meant she was taking Ned’s advice. Short, simple answers. Don’t elaborate. Smile and nod only, if possible. Never give his mother anything to work with. Olivia picked up a piece of buttered toast and bit into it.

Tracy made a face, then looked back at Ned. “So. We have another prodigal relative with their claws into ELQ? Did you already deal with diluting the shares?”

Ned stirred cream into his coffee. “Yes.”

Tracy narrowed her eyes. “I seem to remember Jason’s share was being controlled by that street urchin. Is that still true? And do not give me another one-word answer, Ned. I’m not in the mood.”

He sighed. “All I know is that Jason’s share, along with Scout and Danny’s, were in Sam’s control the last time I checked. Drew received his shares around—” He frowned, looked at Olivia. “Thanksgiving?”

“Something like that. We were with my family this year,” Olivia reminded him. “Why does it matter? Your shares aren’t affected.”

Ned winced, and Tracy turned her shark-like focus on his wife. “And you don’t have any to start with, so why don’t you stay out of this conversation?”

“Hey, I was just minding my business with my bacon and eggs.” Olivia shrugged. “You sat down and started talking in front of me. Suck it up.”

Ned saw his mother calculate the energy it would take to respond, then decided it wasn’t worth cost. She turned back to Ned. “And there’s a son, isn’t there?”

“Yes. Oscar. Drew was married twice before he was kidnapped.” Ned folded his arms. “A wife that died of cancer when Oscar was four, and then Kim Nero. She works at the hospital. And yes, Oscar was also issued shares as a great-grandchild.”

Tracy sniffed. “I am tired of all these idiots coming out of the woodwork and getting their hands on my father’s company. At least the grandchildren are finally past child-bearing stage and this won’t happen again.”

Olivia arched a brow. “Oh, Ned didn’t tell you? He’s adopting my son, Leo. Which would—” She looked at Ned, smiled, “legally make him a great-grandchild.”

Tracy hissed. “No—”

“Oh, and I do believe Jason is dating Elizabeth Webber again. You know, those kids — I always wanted to work it out. Wouldn’t it be nice if they sealed their reunion with a bouncing baby girl?”

“I think it would be amazing,” Olivia said, and grinned at him. “I’ll light a candle at Mass—”

“Oh, hell.” Tracy’s coffee cup clattered in the saucer. “Don’t tell me you’re a Catholic. What did I ever do to deserve this?” she demanded of Ned. “Haven’t I been through enough?”

“Mother, please try to remember that you are not the victim here. You inherited ten percent of the company from Alan without once having to be nice to him. Grandfather spent a great deal of money and effort to get the other ninety percent back under his control. He chose to share it with his grandchildren and their children. To keep the Quartermaines together.”

“And besides, it’s a little cold to be so rude about Drew and his kid getting what’s owed to them.” Olivia shrugged. “Not like Drew asked to be separated from his brother and tossed away like garbage. He doesn’t even remember his own son, Tracy. You don’t think maybe you could have some sympathy for the guy and what he’s been through?”

“Oh, amnesia—” Tracy sneered. “Like we haven’t heard it before. It’s a tired story—”

“It’s quite possible, Mother, that Drew will never remember the years before he woke up in Port Charles,” Ned told her. “Just like Jason will never remember his childhood. Olivia’s right. They’ve been through enough. Let them have their piece of the pie and share it with their kids.”

“I can still hope that guttersnipe gets kicked out into the cold,” Tracy said. “Sam,” she clarified when Ned rolled his eyes. “Jason and Drew are both alive and capable. They should be in control.”

“Okay, well the next time Jason or Drew ask my advice about their shares, I’ll be sure to mention your opinion.” Ned rested his folded arms on the table, leaned forward. “Now, Mother, why don’t we discuss your visit and how I can make you go back to Amsterdam without leaving chaos in your wake.”

“Ah, my son—” Tracy picked up her coffee. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Chills,” Ned declared to Olivia. “Right down my spine. God help us all.”

Penthouse: Hallway

Sonny rapped on the door, then waited. He heard some shuffling inside, so when it didn’t automatically open, he knew Sam had looked through the peephole and was ignoring him. He knocked again, then braced his hands on either side of the door frame.

“Sam. I know you’re in there. Answer the door. Or I’ll do it for you. I still have the keys.”

Sam yanked it open a split second later, scowling. “How do you know I didn’t change the locks?”

“Because you don’t own the damn building, I do. I know when any tenant changes the locks. And—” Sonny lifted a brow. “You don’t own this penthouse, either.”

Sam pressed her lips together. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want to fight with you. Or have this conversation in the hallway. So can I come in or not?”

Sam huffed, then stepped back, holding the door all the way open. “You can come in, but I reserve the right to toss you at any minute.”

Sonny walked into the living room, then swung around to face her as Sam closed the door. “You’ve been around all of this for years. This divorce with Jason, it’s not even the first time you’ve gone down this road. So I can’t believe you didn’t know what you were doing when you wanted half of everything Jason owns.”

Sam didn’t look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’d give you anything you wanted, you know that. He’d give you this penthouse. He’d give you money. Any property you want. But you’re asking for half of the coffee business. You know that’s not on the table. It was his before the marriage. At best, you’re entitled to half the profits since your original marriage.”

“I’m asking for what I’m owed. Jason didn’t sign a prenuptial agreement—”

“To my everlasting regret,” Sonny cut in, and she looked at him now, her eyes flashing.

“It’s not my fault that your business is dirty, Sonny—”

“What are you doing, Sam? You went for blood in those papers—you attacked Jason in every way you can — you going after his freedom now, too? Those five years he spent locked in a coma while the world moved on without him, that wasn’t enough? You want to force the books open so the government can come in and put him away?”

“That wouldn’t be my fault,” Sam said, her teeth clenched.

“Really? You want to think about that again?” Sonny’s hands curled into fists at his side, his resolve to find a civil tone sliding away. “I don’t understand you. I really don’t. Jason’s been through hell. You know now he was kidnapped and held hostage inside his own body. He wanted a life with you, with Danny. The only reason you were in this penthouse the night he went off the pier is because he brought you here to start that life.”

“That was a long time ago,” Sam said. She lifted her chin. “And I’m not obligated to do anything because of it. And if he has a problem with what I’m asking for, then let him deal with it. Why do you even care? Is Jason not getting rid of me fast enough for you?”

“You’re taking me down with him, you know that, don’t you? It’s not just him you’re going after—”

“Oh, I see we’ve come to the reason for this little visit.” Sam smirked. “I knew you weren’t here out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Yeah, I got a stake in it, Sam, so what? That doesn’t change what you’re doing to someone who doesn’t deserve it. I just want you to stop kicking the man when he’s down—”

“Oh, yeah, he looks real down to me, Sonny. He asked me for the divorce, you know. He got tired of waiting for me—”

“That’s it.” Sonny stabbed a finger at her. “There it is. I knew I’d get there.”

“What? What do you think you got?”

“You’re pissed because Jason asked you for the divorce. You filed it as soon as he asked for it, making sure you hit all the high points. Going after the coffee company, using Jake? And that was a real piece of work, wasn’t it? That’s where you decided to hit low.”

Sam narrowed her eyes. “I had those papers ready to go, damn you! It had nothing to do with that—”

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He looked positively gleeful which made her want to murder him. “That’s why you went nuclear on custody and the financials, I believe that was always the plan. But how you’re demanding custody? Abandoning Jake? You’re telling me you were always going to use him to prove Jason was an unfit father?”

“You can believe what you want—”

“You know what I think, Sam?”

“Can I stop you from telling me?”

“I think you found out Jason was spending a lot of time with his son. With Jake. And Jake’s mother. You know, Carly wanted him to talk to you. Oh, man, she tried over and over again to get him to call you. But Jason thought, well, you’d made your choice that night. And if you wanted to make a different one, you’d find him. Why should he have to beg the woman he’d married to believe in him?”

“He wasn’t thinking about me at all,” Sam said, her teeth clenched. “And I wouldn’t have him back even if he did beg. On his hands and knees, I wouldn’t have—”

“Oh, yeah, this answers a lot of questions. Everyone kept saying you’d changed, you’d matured, but I knew—” He wagged a finger. “I knew deep down who you were was always underneath. You’re just a chameleon, Sam. You fit yourself to the man you want, but you don’t know how to do that this time. Because you want them both, don’t you?”

“How dare you—”

“I don’t hear a no,” Sonny taunted, but as he spoke, the door behind them started to open, and then Kristina was there. His daughter looked back and forth between them.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked. “I heard shouting.”

Morgan’s Auto: Parking Lot

Carly took a deep breath. Whatever Jason wanted from her today, she’d agree even if it was having a spa day with Elizabeth. Not that it would ever be that, but if it was, Carly would do it. He’d given her a second chance—more like a fifty-second—and Carly wasn’t going to let Jason regret it. Not this time.

She would think before she spoke, listen to every word he said, and not take any mention of Elizabeth as a personal attack. Three simple rules to a kinder, gentler Carly. She could do this. She had to. It was her last chance.

She pulled open the door, stepped inside the lobby, and the smile immediately dropped from her face and her nose twitched. “What is that smell?”

Spinelli’s head bobbed up from behind the counter and he sighed. “I don’t know. Stone Cold thinks maybe something died in the corner over there and we disturbed its resting place when we cleaned. We came in this morning, and it was terrible—”

“Oh, never mind—” Carly waved her hands. “I don’t want the visual.” She scanned the room, taking in the cracks in the tile, the streaks in the glass windows set into the concrete wall separating the lobby from the garage bay, the splits in the sofa that had probably been in the same spot since before the moon landing— “This is, um, nice.”

Spinelli smirked. “No need, Valkyrie. Stone Cold knows the place is crap. Lemme go grab him. Wait here.”

“Do I have to?” Carly muttered, but thankfully, it wasn’t long. Jason stepped in from the back hallway, wiping his hands on a towel. “Hey. I got your message. You said you needed me.” She would save that message, too. Jason had needed her. What a wonderful phrase he’d probably never said before.

“Desperately, actually. Elizabeth took one look at this place—even if she had the time—” He shook his head. “But I was already going to call you. Uh, I want to open in three weeks.”

Carly pressed her lips together and swallowed her thoughts. “That’s, uh, great. Place looks, um, ready.”

Jason arched a brow, waited a beat. “Did that hurt?”

“Nope. I—” She squared her shoulders. “I support you in whatever endeavor you pursue. This is Carly 2.0. One who listens and supports and—” Her cheek twitched as the smell nearly overwhelmed her.

“The cleaning crew is starting in the back,” Jason said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “And you’re right, even if you didn’t say it. The place is bad. I picked it for the location. It’s close to the water and to Kelly’s, like the warehouse. And the garage bay is in decent condition. But I need you to make this place, especially the lobby, look…well, make it better.”

“You need to me make it better? Like decorating?” Carly narrowed her eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“Nothing. You have an unlimited budget. Just needs to be done by the end of the month. Or mostly. The cleaning crew said they’d be done here after tomorrow, and I’m having the bathroom in the back ripped out and replaced this weekend. But after that, it’s all yours.”

“And full control,” Carly said. “Right? I can do whatever I want?”

“Yep.”

She squealed and nearly hurled herself into his arms, but then stepped back with a wrinkle of her nose. “What were you doing back there? Are you grimy and disgusting?”

“I was in the office reading files,” Jason said dryly. “It’s safe.”

“Oh, great.” Carly threw her arms around him. “You won’t regret this! I promise! I will make this the best garage in the entire state. No, country, no—”

“I’ll settle for the best one on this street,” Jason said. “Have at it.”

“I have so much to do. I need to take pictures, and measurements.” Carly turned in a slow circle, with a completely different perception of the lobby. This was her playground now and she could do whatever she wanted. Jason had asked for her help, and it was something she could do really well! This was the best day ever. “I can’t wait to get started.”

Penthouse: Living Room

Kristina closed the door, still frowning. “Dad? Sam?”

“Kristina—” Sonny took a deep breath. “Sam and I were in the middle of something, so if you could give us—”

“No. No! I want her to hear what you’re saying to me!” Sam cut in, slicing her hand through the air. “I want your daughter to hear what you’re accusing me of!”

When Sonny hesitated, Sam turned to Kristina. “He thinks I want Jason and Drew. He thinks I’m nothing more than a gold-digging whore who doesn’t care who she hurts—”

“Oh, that’s not true. Dad, tell her it’s not true—”

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it in those words, but if the shoe fits,” Sonny said, with a shrug.

“You have no right to speak to me like that!” Sam turned away from her sister, angry tears sliding down her face. “I don’t want them both! I want the life I had before—”

“Sure,” Sonny shot back. “The life you thought you had with Jason, only you don’t get to have that do you? If you want that life, you have to stay with Drew, but you don’t want him, do you? You want Jason. Go ahead, deny it. Tell me I’m wrong!”

Sam’s throat burned. “No—no, that’s not—it’s not—”

“You made a living turning yourself into someone new every year or so, looking for the next mark—” Sonny smirked. “Let’s see, for Jax, you were a tough as nails salvage diver. For me, you were, uh—” His eyes raked down her body, then back up to her face. “The willing mistress—”

“Go to hell—” Sam was nearly incandescent with fury.

“And for Jason—the delicate damsel in distress that needed him to save her. Over and over and over again—”

“He didn’t save me, did he?” Sam demanded. “Franco got me, and then you all let him walk around here like he didn’t rape me!”

Kristina flinched at this reminder of her sister’s trauma, bit her lip, looked to her father, hoping he’d back down.

Sonny’s expression shifted, some of the anger melted into shame. “Yeah, okay. That’s true. And you get to be mad about that—”

“No, no, you don’t get to give me permission,” Sam spat. “You don’t get to pretend that what I go through every time I see that freak out in public doesn’t matter! So maybe I am angry that Jason came home and ignored me. How was I supposed to know what he wanted! How was I supposed to know that he even cared—he went straight to you—”

“But he did come here,” Sonny said, and she stumbled to stop. “Before he came to me. He called you from Russia, but Drew picked up the phone, so Jason hung up. When he got to Port Charles, he came here. To the penthouse.”

“No—” Sam swallowed. “No, he didn’t.”

“He did. He came here, picked the locks, because all he thought about was coming home, Sam. But then he walked through this door and saw those pictures—” Sonny gestured behind her, and Sam turned to see the row of photos on the mantel. “His desk is gone. The pool table. This wasn’t home. And then you came in with the kids, and he saw the man you’d married. And you looked happy. He didn’t want to mess that up, so he left.”

Tears slid down her cheeks, and she closed them. “He came here. He never said—”

“Why would he? Why would he want to make this harder for you? You went home with the other guy. You stuck with the other guy, so he thought you’d made your choice. That’s why he’s not in your face.” Sonny stepped back. “You see, Sam, that’s the difference between me and him. That’s why I’m the one here, and he’s not.  It’s why you decided to go nuclear. Because you needed him to beg for you, to chase you, and that’s not who Jason is or ever will be. So I’m gonna ask you again — what can Jason give you to make you back off?”

Sam jerked open the door. “This conversation is over. Get out.”

“I’m not—”

“Dad.” Kristina stepped in now. “I think you should go now.” She opened the door. “Please.”

“Fine. I’ve said what I needed to say,” Sonny snapped, then stalked out. Kristina closed the door behind him, and Sam pressed her hands to her face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kristina asked.

Sam just closed her eyes, hugged her torso. Jason had come here. He’d come to her. And he’d seen Drew. He’d come to her. Oh, God. She hadn’t known that. She hadn’t known.

“Sam—”

“No.” Sam took a deep breath, then looked at her sister, forced a watery smile. “Scout’s upstairs, napping. Can you check on her?”

“Sure, but—” Kristina hesitated. “About what my dad said. About Jason. About him coming here first— ”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam said, almost inaudibly. “It doesn’t matter at all.” She couldn’t let it matter. “Please go check on Scout. I need a minute. Okay? Please.”

“Okay,” Kristina said warily, then went for the stairs.

Sam pressed her hands to her cheeks. Oh, God. Jason had come to her, had seen Drew, and left. What if she’d seen him? What if she’d—

Her conversion with Molly the day before drifted back, and Sam closed her eyes. She’d been convinced that someone else had put Jason up to asking for the divorce, and now? Knowing Jason had come home—had come to her—she was sure of it. He’d wanted her. Why had he stopped?

Sam exhaled slowly, took a deep breath. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t. She needed to keep moving forward, to stop living in the past.

She reached for her phone.

“Mom? Yeah. I need you to call Diane and make it clear that I don’t want to talk to anyone about my divorce but you and her. Everyone else needs to stay away. Make sure Sonny knows that.”

I’m tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface
Don’t know what you’re expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
– Numb, Linkin Park

---

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Istanbul, Turkey

 Pendik District: Reyhan Caddesi

 Luke was already in a terrible mood even before he had to drive clear across the damn city — he’d gone back to the airport to pick up a second rental van since Lucky’s ridiculous sports car would only seat two—and would stick out like a sore thumb in most districts. Lucky had done it just to annoy his father, Luke was sure of it.

By the time he’d secured the nondescript van and headed towards the first of the addresses Nikolas had given him—it was almost noon. As Luke drove along the D100 highway, he wondered just how current Nikolas’s intel was — the area didn’t look anything like the kind of neighborhood where Helena might tuck away a research lab.

Then again, the old bitch had hidden one deep beneath General Hospital, so there was no telling what she might do or where she’d do it.

Luke parked the van across the street from the address on his list and settled in to watch the comings and goings. Pendik was on the Asian side of the city, higher up in elevation than their place in Fatih. The whole area was populated with tan and cream colored buildings, business and residential. The one he was staking out was two stories, supposedly a clinic. People came and went at a pretty rapid and regular rate.

Too many people, Luke thought. Actual patients, likely. Doctors and nurses and other medical staff members. More likely Helena or another Cassadine had poached doctors from this clinic for her plans. Or she’d sold off the building and moved.

After three hours of watching the comings and goings, Luke took out a small piece of paper from his wallet, scratched a line through the top address.

One down. Time to move on to the next.

Kiremit House: Study

It had been nearly a year and a half since the morning he’d washed ashore in Greece, since he’d sworn his revenge on Valentin Cassadine — and yet Nikolas still toiled away in darkness and secrecy.

He’d spent most of that time hunting down leads from a flat in Marseilles, scouring the European continent for any information about the mysterious Cassadine bastard that no one had ever heard of before Helena had first spoken of him to Luke a little less than a decade ago.  But no one knew anything about him, not even the aliases they’d managed to pin to him.

Valentin was a cipher who had appeared out of thin air—managing to be in the right place at the right time as Helena embarked on her final revenge. He’d used his connections to play games with Jason and Drew, switching the brothers as a little joke no one but he would ever understand. He’d sat back and allowed Helena to spin her plot, thinking she’d sent the real Jason Morgan back to Port Charles when he was actually comatose in a Russian clinic.

But if Chimera had been the plan all along, Nikolas wondered now, sitting at the desk, poring over old ledgers and journals for what felt like the thousandth time, what was in it for Valentin? And if he’d had access to Chimera all that time, why had he concocted that ham fisted attack in Greece? Putting Sam and Drew, Laura and Kevin, Ava — all of them in danger. All of them witnesses. Why not unleash Chimera and get rid of the obstacles that way?

The pieces didn’t fit together, and nothing Nikolas had done in all this time could explain all that had happened. If Valentin had the will, why hadn’t he used that first, then disposed of Nikolas? He could have orchestrated an accident to make it all go down more smoothly—

The will he’d produced weeks after Nikolas’s plunge into the sea had given Valentin all the power, but it wouldn’t keep Nikolas or Spencer safe if Nikolas returned to the land of the living.

Nikolas steepled his hands on the desk, looked over at the last photograph of his son — one taken the last time he’d seen him. Luke had offered updated ones, but Nikolas had refused. He didn’t want the visual of how much time he’d lost. He thought of his own youth — from the ages of thirteen to fifteen, he’d grown almost a foot. His voice had changed.

He bowed his head, took a deep breath. It hit him more often now— the time he was surrendering to this — time he would never get back. Time that Lucky would never have with his own sons.

But a few years lost would be worth it if Nikolas could be sure that Valentin was gone. If he could be sure that this time, finally, Helena’s schemes were over. That the darkest days of the Cassadine family were behind them.

Until Nikolas could be sure the world was safe for his family and the people he loved, it wasn’t safe to return.

He turned back to the journals, prepared to dive into the pages once again for some hint, some lead into Valentin’s past, hoping to unravel the mystery of where in the hell he’d come from.

Pendik: Bağhat Caddesi

 After eliminating the second address in the Pendik district and feeling like he’d wasted an entire damn day, Luke stopped at a kebab counter. He wasn’t looking forward to returning to the house without any results — or spending much more time in Istanbul with the Dark Prince and Little Obrecht.

He’d meant what he’d said to Nikolas — having him stay dead meant Valentin thought he was safe, but it didn’t sit right with Luke to be working with Nikolas at the same time he knew Laura was back home worrying over the Cassadine war starting again. He’d mostly ignored the guilt over the last year. It’d been easy. Nikolas had been in Europe, and Luke had avoided him like the damn plague.

But now he was sharing living quarters. Reporting to the man like he was a fucking general at war. It itched at him, right between the shoulder blades. Laura sure as hell wasn’t going to agree everyone was better off thinking her son was dead. And when she found out Lucky had been lying all this time, too—Luke hoped he was no where near his ex-wife when she discovered that minor detail.

He paid for his order, then wandered over to a bench to take in some scenery while eating. No reason he had to hurry back to Fatih and give Nikolas the bad news. It was the prince’s damn list, Luke reminded himself. He’d wanted to start with Spinelli’s, but Nikolas had been sure his research was better. More accurate.

Absently, Luke tugged his cell phone out and scrolled through the calls and voicemails he’d been ignoring since he’d landed. Most were from Laura — hoping for an update. And a message from Tracy. “Well, what does she want?” he murmured.

Curious, and a bit bored, Luke decided to return the call—and Tracy must have been staring daggers at her phone because the call connected almost before the first ring had completed.

“It’s about damn time you called me back!”

“Now, Spanky, is that any way to talk to your loving husband?”

“Ex-husband—” Tracy took a deep breath. “I need your help.”

“I’m a little busy right now. Haven’t you heard about the return of the prodigal son?”

“I know you’re hunting down Valentin Cassadine, but you have the connections to get this done without a trace.”

Intrigued, Luke tipped his head. “Are we hiding a body?” When she hesitated, he sat up a little straighter. “Tracy?”

“No. The body’s been dead for forty years. And someone else did the deed. Susan Moore.”

“Ah. I’m vaguely familiar with it, but I don’t know why it matters to you. Neither of us were in Port Charles when the old girl got done in.”

“No. But—” There was a pause, and Luke could almost picture his ex-wife looking around furtively to see if anyone was listening. “Look. I’m not a good person.”

“Who is?” Luke perked. This was certainly shaping up to be an interesting conversation.

“I did something back then that was…perhaps not exactly a good thing. But it felt necessary—”

“Tracy, cut the bullshit.”

“Monica found out that there was a twin. She called me, and I arranged for Drew to disappear into the foster system.”

Luke’s mouth dropped slightly because he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. “Uh, run that by me one more time?”

“Damn it, Luke—”

“The last time I was in town, Robert was digging that old case up because they were trying to figure out how Victor knew about the twins. Don’t tell me—”

“No. No, God, no. I didn’t…I didn’t have anything to do with that. But yes, Robert and Curtis Ashford are looking into the case. Monica is freaking out. She’s the weak link,” Tracy muttered. “I may have hated the cold-hearted bitch she used to be, but at least you could count on her to keep a damned secret.”

“Tracy—”

“Look, I just need to make sure they can’t trace it back to me. Or to Monica. So she can keep being grandmother of the year, and I can stay out of trouble.”

“I can make some calls, but I can’t promise it’ll have my full attention. At least not for a few more days.”

“Anything. Please. I can probably swing two, maybe three weeks of distraction. I’d appreciate it, Luke.”

“I’ll do what I can. Don’t kidnap anyone else while you’re waiting.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t joking. I’ll be in touch.” Luke ended the call, slid the phone back in his pocket. Tracy was never boring, he thought. He tossed the remains of his kebab. Time to head back to the other side of the peninsula and face the music. On their first day in town, they were exactly where they’d been the day before — nowhere.

Kiremit: Lucky’s Bedroom

Lucky leaned back in his chair, tapped a few keys, frowning at a lab report from the 1970s. What the hell was Helena doing with WSB medical records from over forty years ago?

“Didn’t they vet any of this before they sent it to us?”

Lucky grimaced, swiveled in the chair to face the doorway. Britt stood there, tablet in hand, a scowl on her face. “What?”

“This crap in the shared folder. Everything I open is like fifty years old and has nothing to do with any of the experiments—” Britt flopped onto his bed, scrolling again on the tablet. “It’s like they wanted to make your life miserable.”

“There wasn’t a file structure,” Lucky said, his shoulders tensed. “It’s not like Helena named the files top secret memory experiments. She probably dumped everything in here to annoy my mother—”

“What’s the purpose?” Britt muttered. “She sent the files to your mother to protect Nikolas. Why make it so difficult?”

“You obviously never met the old bitch.” Lucky crossed his legs, resting them on the bed. “And there might be something to this. The WSB started to cross paths with the Cassadines a few years after some of this is dated. The Ice Princess? That’s late seventies, early eighties.”

“What does that have to do with memory experiments?” Britt demanded. “I thought we were supposed to be looking for this memory protocol—”

“We’re looking for anything that we can use to put the Cassadines out of business. Didn’t you go to college? Don’t you know anything about research?” Lucky retorted. “You can’t always get what you want without a lot of work. Then again, you’re the one who couldn’t bother to get pregnant on your own, right? You had to steal my sister’s embryo.”

Britt gripped the sides of the tablet, dropped her eyes. “You’re right. I’m looking for the shortcut. I want this to be done. I want whatever answers Nikolas is looking for to be in the first damn file we look at.” She shoved herself to her feet. “Or is this your idea of a good time? Wandering around the world, looking for demons and ghosts while the rest of the world goes on without you?”

Lucky stilled. “What does that mean?”

“It means exactly what I said, doesn’t it? I can’t go home because I’ll be arrested on sight. But you? You could go home tomorrow. Probably go back to being a cop. You’ve got kids. A mother and a sister. But you’re here lying to all of them. So either you enjoy this or maybe you can understand my frustration. I’ve spent all day looking through this junk and nothing is worth knowing—”

“I can’t go home,” Lucky cut her off, and she closed her mouth. “Not until I know that Helena didn’t lay one more trap for my family. I can’t. We thought she was gone, didn’t we? And then, from beyond the grave, she came back and almost had Jake killing a ballroom full of people, including himself and his mother.” He shook his head. “I want the world to forget those boys were ever Spencers. Because maybe then whatever Cassadines are left will leave them the hell out of this war.”

He rose from his chair, the heat rising in his cheeks, in his chest. He wanted to hit something, to put his fist through the damn wall. “I didn’t ask for this. The Cassadines stole my mother, traumatized her. Did the same to my grandmother. They took me, played with my head and used me like a weapon. And then, for her final act of revenge, the old bitch stole my son and made us think he was dead. Do you understand what it’s like? I had to tell Elizabeth Jake was dead. Stand over his grave. But please, keep telling me how you’re being inconvenienced by having to read some lab reports. I’m dying to hear how you’re the victim.”

Britt exhaled slowly. “Okay. We’re not getting anywhere like this. I’m sorry. Okay? Let me just—I’m sorry. You’re right. I made this situation what it is. I lied and I destroyed my own life. So I get it.” She cleared her throat. “And maybe I’m frustrated because I’m reading all of this, and I don’t understand it. Why it’s here or how it fits in. I’ve wasted so much of my life already. I don’t want to keep losing time. I’m not going to apologize for wanting this to be over faster.”

Lucky dragged a hand down his face, then sat down again. “It’s all part of a story,” he said. “We don’t know when the Cassadines and the WSB became intertwined. Was it when Victor went to work there? Or were they working together before then? And if they were, then that just doubles all the places we have to look for traces of Helena’s plans. The WSB has properties and resources in every damned country. I get it, you’re here to get Nikolas back on his damned throne. You want to cut to the chase. But I can’t cut corners. Not this time. Every time I think it’s over, she comes back again. I have to be sure. Even if I have to read every damn file on this drive twice, I’m going to do that. You can either help me or you can go to tell Nikolas to give you something else to do.”

She looked down at the tablet and was quiet for a long moment. Finally, she sighed. “I keep expecting to find my parents’ names,” she said, her voice almost inaudible.

He frowned. “What?”

“They worked for whoever would hire them. Mother didn’t really have any conscience or loyalty. Just whoever would fund her projects. And well, my father—you know what he’s capable of. Some day, their names are going to show up in these files. I don’t know everything they’ve done. I’ve never wanted to know.” Her pained eyes met his. “They played with your head, right? That was my father. And my mother was working with Victor around the time Helena had Jake. She probably knew about it. You want the story, Lucky, and I want to pretend none of this is happening. At the same time my mother was helping me steal your sister’s child, she probably helped Helena hold Jake captive. My family has done nothing but destroy lives for generations. It’s all we’re good at.”

This he almost understood — the fear of knowing your parents might be capable of evil, of not wanting to see or believe it. He’d been a teenager once, standing in his living room, listening to his father recount the horror he’d inflicted on Lucky’s mother. On the woman Luke had always said he loved more than anything. His father had fallen hard and fast from the pedestal Lucky had always placed him on, and he’d never really been able to get his foundations back.

“Then you have a choice, Britt. You can stay and help so they can’t ever do this again. Or go back to Geneva and wait for the statute of limitations to end. Either way, I’m going to find out the truth and make sure that the Cassadines or anyone else in their world can’t hurt the people I love again.” He lifted his brows. “What’s it going to be?”

She looked away, then sighed, and met his eyes. “I’m not going to apologize for being selfish. For wanting my life back. But maybe you’re right. Maybe we’ll never be safe if people like my parents are out there. So let’s get back to reading these files and hope we find something worth knowing.”

Somebody get me a hammer
Wanna break all the clocks and the mirrors
And go back to a time that was different
A time when I
Didn’t feel like there was something missing
Now my body and mind are so distant
Don’t know how to escape from this prison
How can I free my mind?
– i can’t breathe, Bea Miller

---

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Spencer House: Living Room

Laura Spencer glanced up as her grandson came through the front door, smiled at him, then returned her attention to the phone. “How long does Spinelli think it’s going to take to decrypt both drives?”

“Oh, well, Helena’s is going faster,” Elizabeth said. “She had the same password for almost everything, so he wrote a program to unlock—never mind. That’s just a matter of getting them printed and organized. There’s—God, there’s so many. He’s going to do a batch a time, so we’re not overwhelmed. But there’s some files that had a different type of security, and he still can’t crack Andre’s decryption key.”

“Well, can’t Anna or Robert help with this? Andre wanted Anna to have the files—”

“I can’t tell you what Andre was thinking. He wanted her to have them but didn’t say anything and just left them in a snow globe—” Elizabeth huffed, and Laura could just picture her daughter-in-law rolling her eyes. “Honestly, he’s watched one too many Bond movies. Anna’s trying to get in to see Andre again, but I guess the WSB isn’t keen on digging up more bodies. They want it to go away.”

“All right, so what’s our plan?”

“Jason and I sorted through the first batch. I grabbed anything that looks medical, and he kept the rest. I have to call Drew to see what he wants. You can stop by the garage and grab some from him. Unless you want to drown in brain scans and medical reports—”

“That sounds terrible. Did you send a copy of the medical ones to Patrick and Robin?”

“They’re on the shared drive we gave to Lucky. They’re organizing on their end, but Patrick thinks we won’t have a full picture until we have all of them. You saw that drive’s content, Laura. It was like someone dumped everything at once. No folders. No organization. Just thousands and thousands of files to sort through. I mean, we’ll get our answers, but Helena isn’t making it easy. Spinelli’s trying to go by the date they were created or modified, but—” Elizabeth sighed. “I guess when we wanted a breakthrough, we should have been more specific.”

“I suppose. Well, at least it’s something. Maybe we’ll get a real break, and Luke and Lucky will find something in Turkey.”

“Let’s hope. I’ll talk to you later.” Laura ended the call and looked at Spencer. “How was lunch?”

“Good, I guess. Emma’s gonna stick around town until her parents get here, so we really just mourned the end of winter break.” Spencer leaned against the back of the sofa. “Was that Aunt Liz?”

“Yes.” Laura picked up some dishes from the table and went into the kitchen. Spencer trailed after her. “Did you walk home or—”

“Yeah, it’s not that far. You were talking on the phone about files. Are they, uh, the files you guys found in that law book?”

Laura frowned, studied her grandson. “How did you know about that?”

“I guess that’s a yes.”

“Spencer, I wanted you to come home to keep you close with everything that’s going on.” Laura dried her hands on a dish towel. “And because I wanted you to be with me. With your cousins and your friends. Not so you could sign up for the war.”

“All I did was ask about files, Grandmother.” Spencer shrugged, traced a pattern on the counter. “Is it breaking the law to confirm that they exist?”

“Yes, we found a thumb drive of files from Helena in the law book she left me in her will,” Laura said after a long moment. “But I don’t want you to worry about it. We’re handling it.”

“I can help. I want to help.” He leaned over the counter. “Let me read something or talk to someone, or—”

“No.” Laura shook her head. “Absolutely not. You’re fifteen years old, Spencer—”

“And I’ve already been kidnapped twice,” Spencer pointed. “My father is dead because of this. Can you—”

“Yes, your father is dead because of this,” Laura repeated. “My son. I lost him. I lost pieces of my other son. My daughter was kidnapped and nearly frozen to death because of the Cassadines.”

“I am a Cassadine, Grandmother. I have the right—”

“But you aren’t Helena. Or Stavros or Mikkos. Or Victor—or any of the terrible people that have come before. Neither of my sons ever asked to be part of this, but they weren’t given a choice. You have one, Spencer. Please. Go be a normal teenager. Don’t be part of this.”

Spencer opened his mouth, then looked away. “Yeah. Okay. Fine.”

She watched him leave, then sighed, knowing this wouldn’t be the end of the conversation.

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

Monica Quartermaine grimaced, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, I was hoping your voice was a waking nightmare.”

Tracy smirked and tossed her coat at Alice. “Hello, sister dear. Miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” Monica said. As she brushed past Tracy, she hissed, “It took you long enough.”

“A whole twenty-four hours. Sorry I didn’t hop on the first plane.” Tracy followed her into the front room and closed the double doors. “You were cryptic and useless on the phone. Tell me what they know and how close we are to disaster.”

“Close enough. They found the form that surrendered Drew to the state.” Monica folded her arms. “And it was dated six weeks after Susan died, so they know it wasn’t her.”

“Well, what did you expect?” Tracy demanded. “Did you want me to leave the kid in that place for an entire year for extra cover? Heather wasn’t a raving lunatic back then. She could have spilled her guts. And if Betsy Frank ever figured out who she’d been taking care of, we’d all be screwed.” She took a deep breath. “The form? That’s it?”

“You might not think that’s a lot, Tracy, but that’s because you were never a suspect,” Monica shot back. “As soon as they found that damn thing, all eyes turned on me. Drew and Robert came knocking on the same day. I’m the only one left standing who had a reason to want Drew gone.” She shuddered. “Oh, God. Listen to me. I didn’t—”

“No one thinks you wanted the kid dead, Monica. You just didn’t care where he landed in the system.”  Tracy went over to the minibar. “You said they know, but all you have is that they suspect. That’s not the same thing—”

“How else are they going to explain why Susan’s name is on a document after her death — and after Tolliver croaked in the hospital. It can’t be him either. So now they’re looking for an accomplice to murder! Take this seriously, Tracy!”

“Oh, I am. Believe me.” Tracy tossed back a shot of whiskey. “You said you didn’t kill Susan, and Tolliver confessed. What’s the problem?”

“The problem—” Monica took a deep breath. “It took years for Jason to consider himself part of the family. Now he has. He comes on Thanksgiving. His children are part of my life. Tracy, I can’t risk losing that—”

“Well, then you should have thought of that forty years ago—” Tracy stopped when Monica just glared at her. “Okay. Well, that’s water under the bridge—”

“Don’t act like you did me any damn favors. You didn’t want Susan’s boys anywhere near the Quartermaine name, either. Every dime that went to Jason was another that didn’t go to Ned. Another son was your worst nightmare, too.” Monica closed her eyes. “Oh, God. If I could just go back — if I could just have another chance—”

“Water under the bridge,” Tracy repeated, but more gently and her sister-in-law turned. “We were harder, colder women, Monica, who didn’t see or care that they were innocent children. They were pawns on a chessboard. I think we both have our regrets, but unless your conscience is bothering you enough to come forward—”

“Jason will just think that every terrible thing he believed about this family is true. And he’d be right. But that’s not who we are anymore, Tracy. That’s not who I am. I need this to go away. How do we make sure it stays buried?”

“I already have a cover story to explain why I’m home. I’m going to cause a little trouble at ELQ—oh, relax. It’s nothing Michael can’t handle. I don’t control enough of the company to do anything but irritate him. But it will distract them long enough to give me a chance to look into this. I want to see what they know. And to be sure that my—our—tracks were covered.”

“Okay. What do you want me to do?”

“Go on like normal. Spend time with Drew and Jason,” Tracy said. “Stop looking so damn guilty. You used to be a hard-ass bitch, Monica. Maybe that’s not the top layer anymore, but she’s somewhere underneath. Find her fast.”

Morgan’s Auto: Lobby

Sonny stepped inside the building, casting a dubious gaze around the room. Jason, in the corner by the window, straightened. He tied off the trash bag in his hand and tossed it by the door where a few more were piled.

“Hey,” Jason said, swiping a hand across his forehead. “Give me a minute.” He turned back to the counter. “How’s it looking over there, Spinelli?”

The hacker popped up from behind the high counter across the room. “Almost fit for human habitation, Stone Cold.”

“You can hire someone to do this, you know,” Sonny said.

“We did. They’re starting tomorrow.” Jason gestured for Sonny to follow him towards the open doorway in the back. “You can wait here. I’m gonna go wash up.”

“Uh huh,” Sonny said, still skeptical. The room where Jason had told him to wait was probably meant to be the office, but now it held little more than a battered desk that had probably been constructed in the 1940s with a rickety wooden chair behind it. By the windows, there was a circular table with two more damaged chairs that matched the one at the desk.

The table and the desk were stacked with papers, so Sonny went to the desk to sift through, curious as to where it all could have come from.

“Sorry about that. I wanted to get some of the worst of it before Carly comes to take a look at it,” Jason said. He closed the door. “I’m hoping she’ll take over making it more than just habitable. Was I expecting you today? I lost track of time—”

“No, no. It’s good. I’m on my way to pick up Joss at Kelly’s. Figured I’d stop in. See how it’s going.” Sonny held up the paper. “This is a WSB case file. Don’t tell me it was on Helena’s drive.”

“Yeah.” Jason reached for it. “It’s about an auction from 1981. Robert wrote it up. The Ice Princess was placed up for auction, then disappeared. I don’t really know much about it or how it fits in. I know it’s important, not why.”

“Yeah.” Sonny squinted, trying to place it. “I don’t know the lore. Elizabeth would.”

“I’ll ask her tonight, I guess. I was just hoping I could do this part on my own. She already took the medical stuff, and that was plenty.” Jason set the report back on the stack. “I don’t know the backstory though, so I can’t really fit in the context. All I think I ever know was that Helena kidnapped Lucky, brainwashed him, and then there was something with Stavros.”

“Most of that went down while you were out of town. You got the tail end of the first go around, I think, and then the beginnings of the last time. It’s like finding puzzle pieces but you don’t know what the finished product is supposed to look like. Elizabeth and Laura can make it fit, and you’ll eventually get the gist.” Sonny eyed the stack on the desk, then gestured at the table. “You’ll have plenty of reading to catch up.”

“I don’t even want to think about it. Maybe this is Helena’s revenge,” Jason muttered. He dragged his hand through his hair.

“I actually wanted to ask you about something Diane said. She thinks I should get a new lawyer. For me,” he added when Jason looked up, frowned. “She didn’t get into the details because it’s about your divorce, but I got the sense that there’s been some legal filing other than the papers before Christmas.”

Jason grimaced. “Diane left me a voicemail, but I haven’t gotten back to her yet. Alexis filed a motion to subpoena all my finances. Property. Bank accounts. Drew and I were still digging all that out. There’s things he did when he was…in control,” he said after a moment. “And he should get those, but he’s being stubborn—anyway. I have to get a new accountant, I guess. I don’t know who you’re using. Since…”

Since Bernie had died the same night Jason had gone off the pier. “Yeah. I’ll get you in touch with Donnie. He’ll put things to rights. Like I said, Diane didn’t get into the specifics, but if Sam’s going for half of everything — some of that is mine.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “She’s asking for the coffee company? But—” He closed his mouth, clearly stunned. Just like Carly, Sam had always known the coffee company was a lucrative front to hide their smuggling income. Just like the handful of nightclubs Sonny controlled was able to hide their gambling profits. Jason didn’t have his hand in any of that — he’d always preferred buildings to put his money in. Assets that Sam was going after now.

“You didn’t know that? Don’t you and Diane talk?”

“I told you, she left a message and said not to worry right now because she was filing a motion to dismiss it, so I didn’t make it a priority. She didn’t go into the details, and I never thought…” Jason sat behind the desk, a bit scattered. “Sam knows better. Or I thought she did.”

“You ever file a response to her divorce papers? Don’t you only got twenty days or something?”

“Business days,” Jason said absently. “I have until the twenty-third. Diane’s handling it.”

“You’re not going to let her have custody, are you? Because this is why she’s doing this. She’s trying to scare you into letting her have her way. She knows what she’s doing. And if she didn’t, Alexis damn well did. She handled my first divorce from Carly.”

Jason exhaled slowly, dragged a hand down his face. “No. No. I’m not. But I didn’t really—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. You did nothing wrong. Except marry her. I should have locked you in a damn basement the second you told me you’d reunited with her,” Sonny muttered. Or been a better friend while Jason had been contemplating a future with Elizabeth. “Diane can end this tomorrow. You know what she can do.”

“I know that she still has information that might be a problem for Sam, but not as much as it used to be,” Jason said. “A lot of those statutes ran out—”

“The ones you know about. You never wanted to know the full story about what she did before Port Charles.”

“It didn’t matter to me. And it still doesn’t. It doesn’t,” Jason repeated when Sonny just rolled his eyes. “Look, that’s an option if we need it. But let Diane work the system. She’s confident she can get the scope reduced. And maybe Sam will back down—”

And maybe pigs would fly, but Sonny wasn’t going to argue the point right now. “Fine. I just hate to see Sam push you around on this. You didn’t do anything wrong—”

“Hey—”

They both turned at the new voice. Cameron, in the doorway, smiled nervously. “Sorry. Mom said I was supposed to come by for a ride to the house. Spinelli said to come back.”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was.” Jason sent Sonny a meaningful look which meant drop it, and Sonny nodded.

“Hey, Mr. C,” Cameron said. “Joss is waiting not so patiently back at the diner, so good luck with that.”

“Yeah, I’ll head over now. You know, you can call me Sonny,” Sonny told him.

“Not in a million years, Mr. C,” Cameron said, and Sonny laughed. He patted Cameron’s shoulder as he left.

Jason wanted Diane to handle it. He wanted to believe Sam would see reason.

Sonny wasn’t interested in leaving anything to chance. If Jason didn’t want to deal with it head on, Sonny would have to take care of it.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

“I think maybe Emma and I could be friends this time around,” Joss said, sipping her third milk shake. “I mean, you and I get along now, so anything’s possible.”

Trina didn’t think Joss would be making that claim if she knew all the ways Trina had visualized stabbing Joss with a straw all afternoon, but if Joss wanted to live in a world of delusion, that was her choice. She continued to scrub down the table.

“Plus, the whole reason Emma and I got off the wrong foot was that she stole my soulmate. I mean, yeah, she can argue that she saw Cam first, but—” Joss picked up her shake and followed Trina to the counter. “But now that we’re not fighting over the same boy, we could totally bond, right?”

“You were never fighting over Cameron,” Trina told Joss. “Emma never had to do more than lift her pinky and Cam went running. He never, ever thought of you that way.”

Joss narrowed her eyes. “He could have. You don’t know.”

“I do know. I was there.”

“Okay, so then why do you and I not get along? Because we never fought over a boy—”

“For the same reason you didn’t like Emma.” Trina shrugged. “I was another girl that Cameron paid attention to. Even before we started dating. You had an issue with me from the first day we met in fifth grade.”

“I did not—”

“You did. I was friends with Emma and Cam, and therefore I was the enemy. You’re getting better about sharing him, Joss, but you still think he’s yours.” Trina tipped her head. “What’s that about? Doesn’t Oscar have an issue with you always being obsessed with Cam?”

Joss set her milkshake down with a thud. “I am not obsessed with him. You just never liked me, okay?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you get a little truth that hurt?” Trina snorted and started to sort through her receipts. “You know, I was talking to my mom about this a few weeks ago, and she thought it was a hysterical that you’re just like your mother.”

“I am—” Joss stopped. “I am nothing like my mother.”

“Really? Your mom got all hot and bothered last month because your uncle Jason—who isn’t even your uncle—wasn’t bothering with her. You told me yourself that she was being really mean to Cam’s mom. And now any time a girl comes near Cameron, you’re all bitchy and possessive.”

“I am not. You’re the one who can’t handle that his best friend is a girl—”

“I never—”

“No! No! I’m not like my mother.” Joss’s eyes suddenly brimmed with tears, and Trina closed her mouth. “I’m not like her! I would never try to hurt someone else just to feel better. Take it back.”

“Joss—”

“Cameron is my friend, okay? And he’s always been my friend, even when things are hard, and I get annoying. But he’s my friend. Maybe I liked him for a while when we were kids because he’s so nice and sweet, and I don’t have a lot of that in my life. And he was so nice to me when my mom was dating Franco and all the other kids were making fun of me, and he never did!” Joss swiped at her cheeks. “So you’re damn right I’m protective of Cameron. He took care of me then, so I take care of him now.”

Trina exhaled slowly. She came around to the counter and sat on the stool next to Joss. “I forgot about that. What happened at school when your mom was with Franco. I didn’t—I wasn’t one of them, you know.”

“I know.” Joss smiled at her a bit weakly. “Maybe back when we were kids, I was jealous of any girl who looked at Cameron, but it’s really not like that now. He’s just my friend. Oscar—he’s great. And I really like him. I think maybe I could love him, you know? Cam’s safe from me. He always was because you’re right. He never wanted me.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Joss. I’m sorry. And you’re not like your mother. I shouldn’t have said that. My mom doesn’t know you.”

“I thought we were getting along better, but you’ve been so pissed off at me all day. Did I do something? Because sometimes I do, and I don’t know about it. Cam usually lets me know when I’m being clueless—”

“It’s not you.” Trina sighed and went back to work. “It’s—I know it’s stupid. It really is. But it’s Emma.”

“Oh.” Joss nodded. “Yeah, I figured. Okay, I was having fun with that part. Sorry. I was kind of enjoying having Emma be the one on the outside looking in for once, when it was always the other way around before. She broke up with Cam, you know? It was her idea. He wouldn’t have done that in a million years. And he was all sad and sappy for months. But now he’s not because of you. So now she gets to see what she threw away, and maybe that shouldn’t make me happy, but it does.” She frowned. “Okay, so maybe I’m little bit like my mother.”

Trina laughed, and then Joss did, too. “It’s stupid. Cameron’s great. He’s not going to break up with me because his middle school girlfriend is moving home. You’re right. She broke up with him, and now we’re together, and it’s perfect. But Emma’s my friend, too. Maybe we can all be friends this time,” she said. “It’d be interesting.”

“That’s for sure.” Joss glanced down at her phone. “Oh, that’s Uncle Sonny. He’s in the parking lot. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Webber House: Kitchen

It wasn’t exactly the evening that Elizabeth had planned — which had been dinner with Jason and the boys, and then maybe some cuddling with Jason on the sofa after the boys went to bed for the night. They’d decided on no overnight stays with the boys in the house, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t find other ways to enjoy the new phase in their relationship.

Instead, Jason had brought Spinelli over for dinner and the boys had argued to eat in the living room with their video games as one last hurrah before they returned to school — leaving Elizabeth in the kitchen, being quizzed on Cassadine lore.

“Laura would probably have more of the specifics,” she said, picking at the cheese on her pizza. “But the Ice Princess was an uncut diamond that everyone was obsessed with. Um, the auction you read about — I remember Laura telling me about it. The diamond was sent to Port Charles, and everyone was trying to find it. Alexandra Quartermaine — a distant cousin,” she said, when Jason frowned. “She was dating one of the Cassadine brothers. I told you there were three, remember? Mikkos, Tony, and Victor. Tony was a playboy, and he was dating Alexandra back then.”

“What was so interesting about this diamond?” Spinelli asked. “Couldn’t the Cassadines buy any that they wanted?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth frowned. “Well, back then, originally, I don’t know that there was anything special about the diamond itself. It was made into a statuette or something, and there was a formula hidden in the base.” She flipped through the file Jason had shown her and tapped the picture. “Here, see? This hid a formula that Mikkos Cassadine used for his weather machine.”

“Weather machine,” Spinelli repeated.

“Yeah, that’s why Robert was looking for it. He wanted to stop Mikkos. He was threatening to freeze the world. Anyway, Laura could tell you some really amazing stories about all of that. So could Luke — he used to tell them to Lucky like bedtime stories when he was kid.” She smiled faintly. “When we ran away, we used to sleep under the docks. I got scared a few times, and it was how he’d keep me calm.”

“You slept under the docks,” Jason said, a bit surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, I was feeling rebellious, and my grandmother wouldn’t let Lucky sleep on my floor. Of course, now that I’m a mother, I have so much sympathy for Gram, but back then—well, you know. If someone told me not to go through a door, I’d think about nothing else. So, anyway, I don’t remember a lot about what happened in Greece. Mikkos died, and so did Alex and Tony. Luke and Laura got away.”

She reached for her soda. “The next time I think I remember hearing about the Ice Princess was when Lucky came back. Luke had the diamond, and then Helena got her hands on it. It was used as the anchor to control Lucky when he was being brainwashed, and Ice Princess was one of the control words.” Elizabeth shuddered. “So, it definitely fits in with Cassadines trying to control people, but I’m still surprised to find it in these files. Helena wasn’t part of the Ice Princess stuff. At least not that I know of.”

“What happened to the diamond?” Jason asked. “Do the Cassadines still have it?”

“You know, I’m not sure. Maybe. I’ll ask Lucky the next time he checks in. I’m supposed to hear from him tomorrow.”  She nodded at the folders. “You should ask Laura, though. There might be pieces I left out.”

Elizabeth still had hopes that the night could be salvaged, but by the time she had dinner cleaned up and the boys were heading up to their rooms, Spinelli was packing his things up and she realized with a start that Jason was going to be driving him home.

“Oh, you’re leaving?” she asked, trying to hide the disappointment. It had been a long day, she told herself. And they’d been looking for answers for weeks.

“Yeah. I want to get a shower. I washed my hands at the garage, but—” Jason nearly shuddered and she laughed. “Do you have work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be home tomorrow night if you want to come by.” She glanced at Spinelli who was waiting at the door, then stepped back from Jason. “I’ll see you then.”

Jason didn’t notice her step back—he just leaned in to kiss her briefly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jason followed Spinelli out the door, and she went over to lock it, watching as they climbed into his SUV. Stupid to be disappointed, she thought. They were adults in the middle of a serious situation. There’d be plenty of time for them in the future.

She went upstairs to check on the boys and confiscate any electronics they thought she didn’t notice. Mother and Cassadine historian, Elizabeth thought wryly. Just what she’d always wanted.

 

---

NEXT WEEK

“I can’t go home,” Lucky cut her off, and she closed her mouth. “Not until I know that Helena didn’t lay one more trap for my family. I can’t. We thought she was gone, didn’t we? And then, from beyond the grave, she came back and almost had Jake killing a ballroom full of people, including himself and his mother.” He shook his head. “I want the world to forget those boys were ever Spencers. Because maybe then whatever Cassadines are left will leave them the hell out of this war.”

—

“So maybe I am angry that Jason came home and ignored me. How was I supposed to know what he wanted! How was I supposed to know that he even cared—he went straight to you—

“But he did come here,” Sonny said, and she stumbled to stop. “Before he came to me. He called you from Russia, but Drew picked up the phone, so Jason hung up. When he got to Port Charles, he came here. To the penthouse.”

“No—” Sam swallowed. “No, he didn’t.”

—

A moment later, Monica was in the doorway, her cheeks a bit flushed. “I’m sorry to just show up here without—”

“You can always stop by,” Jason interrupted, and she smiled at him. “Now if Edward were to just show up without invitation—” He stopped. “I forgot for a minute,” he realized, and her smile turned wistful. “He was—he was still here when I—”

“He always did seem immortal. He passed just a little while later. He never knew—I think if he’d lost another grandchild or thought he had, it would have killed him then and there. He never gave up hope you’d come back to us.”

Loving you was dumb, dark and cheap
Loving you will still take shots at me
Found loving you was sunshine, but then it poured
And I lost so much more than my senses
‘Cause loving you had consequences
– Consequences, Camila Cabello

---

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

ELQ: Conference Room

“All right.” Ned Ashton steepled his hands in front of his face. “Let’s walk through these projections again. I’m not happy with the bottom line on that bid, and I think we can get a better deal.”

“I want to be careful—” Michael Quartermaine flipped through the construction proposal again. “We don’t have a lot of companies to choose from — not if I want to make sure no one can tie us to anything illegal.”

“Michael, you know better than anyone that you can’t do business in Port Charles and not brush up against the mob.” Ned raised his brow. “Doesn’t Sonny have his hands in construction?”

“No.” Michael took a deep breath. “No. But even if he did, I wouldn’t use him. The whole point of this project is to take back the waterfront, to give Port Charles a better reputation and make it a tourist destination again. We lost that when the mob moved in and took over the port, and the local economy is showing those effects.”

“I’m not arguing with your goal, I’m just saying that you can’t hire a construction company in this city that isn’t doing something under the table. You’re not going to be able to shake the ties anyway. Not as long as Jason is part of the family.”

“He’s out,” Michael said. “He’s not going back to that life. He’s got a chance to be with Jake, and hopefully Danny one day—that’s not the point anyway.”

“I’m not sure what the point is. We can go back for a better number, Michael. You don’t have to accept the first offer—”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“I didn’t—” Ned stopped and took a deep breath. “No, but this is your first major project on this scale. A hotel, the pier — it’s a lot to take on at once. I like the project, I told you that. But that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? If you want a yes man, then you’re barking up the wrong alley.”

“No, I want your opinion.” Michael smiled weakly. “Sorry, I guess it’s just a sore point with me. It’s been…a rough couple of months with my mom and Sonny. I’m just—I’m trying to move past that—”

“I know—” Ned paused at the light knock on the door. “Yes?”

“Sorry to interrupt, but—” Sarah, the secretary smiled grimly. “Miss Quartermaine is on her way up from the lobby.”

“Miss—” Ned closed his eyes. “Oh, man.” He scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Miss Quartermaine?” Michael echoed. “Wait. Do you mean Aunt Tracy? Why would she be here?” He looked at Ned. “Did you know she was flying in?”

“I absolutely did not know that. Which is not a good thing. Unexpected visits from Tracy Quartermaine usually end in tears.” Ned rose to his feet just as they heard the familiar, prickly tones of the woman in the question.

She swept into the room, her dark hair gone entirely gray. She wore it long now, braided and tucked up in a tight chignon. Clad in a gray silk dress and a black coat that looked more like a cape draped over her shoulders, chin lifted defiantly, and mouth set grimly, Tracy Angelica Quartermaine looked ready to go to battle.

Michael already had a headache.

“Mother,” Ned said, rising to his feet. “What a lovely surprise—”

“What moron gave the okay for this damned white elephant down on the docks?” Tracy demanded. “Are you trying to bankrupt the company that we handed you on a silver platter?” she demanded when Michael turned to her.

“Aunt Tracy,” he said. “You look well.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Tracy stripped off her coat, tossed it on the conference table. “Ned, I left you here to look after this child, and you’re letting him run amok—”

“You retired, Mother,” Ned said. “How’s Amsterdam?”

“Lovely in the spring. Miserable in the winter. Answer my damn questions. Did you okay this project?”

“He doesn’t have the final say, Aunt Tracy.” Michael organized the paperwork they’d been reviewing into his leather portfolio and closed it. “And if you wanted to have any input, then maybe you shouldn’t have moved across the ocean.”

“Well, maybe I made a mistake.”

Michael stared at her for a long moment, bewildered. “What does that mean? You can’t do anything about it—”

“Oh, rookie mistake.” Ned winced, shook his head. “Never look directly into the sun, and never—”

Tracy stepped up to Michael, one brow lifted high. “You think I’m powerless? You think I can’t take an infant and an idiot? I could wipe the floor with you in my sleep.”

“Mother—”

“Aunt Tracy, I understand you have concerns and I’ll be happy to listen to them,” Michael interrupted. “But my point stands. You control ten percent of ELQ’s shares. You might be the largest single shareholder, but that doesn’t give you any real control. If you’ve changed your mind about retirement, then that’s something we can discuss. But until then, I don’t have to listen to this.”

He left the room. When he was gone, Ned looked at his mother. “What are you up to?”

“That’s none of your business.” Tracy picked up her coat. “The infant wants to take me on? Let’s see what he’s got.” She strode out.

Ned looked around the empty room and sighed. “Well, that could have gone better.”

Aurora Media: Drew’s Office

Drew glanced at the sound of the knock on his open office door and gestured for Curtis Ashford to come in before turning back to his call. “No, Diane. I’m not ready to file anything. I just want to get things in order. Yeah. Okay. Let me know what you need. Thanks.”

He set the phone on the desk, returned his focus to Curtis who’d sat at the conference table with a manila folder set in front of him. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem. Legal thing?” his friend asked.

“Oh.” Drew sat across from him, made a face. “Not sure. I, uh, stopped by the penthouse just to get a sense of things today, and it didn’t—” He leaned back in the chair. “It didn’t go well. She wants to go scorched Earth in the divorce from Jason—to force his hand on terminating his parental rights, and I don’t think that’s going to help our situation that much. Mine and his,” he clarified.

“She really wants him out of Danny’s life that much? Kind of cold considering what he’s been through.”

“Yeah. I tried to point that out, but she just can’t see past what happened when she was pregnant. She wants to treat Jason like he’s this villain who ruined our perfect life, but it’s not true.”

“No, all the guy did was come home. He didn’t ask for any of this. And I figure you’re both handling this as well as anyone could expect.” Curtis sat in the chair across from Drew. “But they had a history. A rocky one, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah. And I get what Sam means. She thought she was forgiving him when we got together, but it wasn’t him. And maybe seeing his face and voice brought it all back in a different way, but I just can’t—” He shook his head, leaned back. “I can’t really forget what she said about Jake. I think I always knew—” He dipped his head. “Somewhere in the back of Jason’s mind, the memories I have, I think he knew Sam never meant to tell the truth. To hope Maureen just kept him forever.”

“I guess hearing her admit it put a lot of things into perspective, like that car accident a few years ago. I’m sorry, man. You want me to talk to her? Get some sense of what’s going on?”

“No. No. I’m just going give her a few days to cool off.” He shook his head. “We all need to take a breath. A lot’s happened, maybe it just needs to settle.”

“Fair enough. I, uh, actually came to talk to you about your mother’s case. I pulled the official case report back when I started to dig into it,” Curtis said, “but Robert said he was going to go through the archives and get the rest of it. His notes, the physical evidence, you know, the whole thing. Now that we have this angle of maybe Susan knowing about you, we wanna see how that theory fits anything else in the case.” He paused. “Have you talked to your brother about this?”

“My brother,” Drew repeated, testing the phrase. “No. I haven’t. I’m still trying to come to terms with thinking Monica is the reason I ended up in the foster system. And Robert thinks that maybe it ties back to the murder. I don’t even know how to have that conversation. I can barely have it with myself, but going up to the brother I just found out existed and telling him? How do you even do that?”

“They don’t make a Hallmark card for this, that’s for sure.” Curtis raised his brows. “It doesn’t have to be you. Elizabeth knows, doesn’t she?”

“I doubt she remembers. We had that conversation about Monica before Christmas, and I never followed up. Feels like a thousand things have happened between now and then. No, Jason and I are—we’re dealing with each other better these days,” Drew said. “Maybe since I stopped thinking he was gonna swoop in and take everything that I thought was mine. And now he knows I’m not the bad guy either. It’s just…” He shook his head. “Awkward,” he said finally. “Because I know all these things about him and his life that I shouldn’t. I wish I could get these memories out of my head.” He focused on Curtis. “But until Maddox helps us or we find the protocol formula, there’s not much we can do about it. I have to live with it. We both do.”

“Give yourself a break, Drew.” Curtis got to his feet. “And maybe give Sam one, too. She’s not handling this well, but it’s not like there’s a handbook. She thought she was married to one guy, and instead she’s married to that guy’s brother. How do you make sense of that? You add in the Cassadines, and mix it with some old-fashioned jealousy, you get a pretty bad mix. You’re right to give it space. Let her cool down, see where you are in a few days.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. You’ll keep looking into the case, right?”

“Yeah, me and Robert are on it.  If we get something that ties Monica to this, you’re going to have to tell Jason. You should get ready for that.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

“One day,” Trina Robinson grumbled, “one day I’m going to buy that girl a clue and then smack her with it.” She snatched up the tip that Sonny Corinthos had left when he’d dropped off his stepdaughter, then glared at her boyfriend. “Don’t smirk at me. It’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t smirking,” Cameron Webber said. He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Joss wasn’t thinking about you working when she said we should have a goodbye lunch for Em here. You know she doesn’t think before she speaks—”

“Do you ever get tired of apologizing for her? Maybe it’d be nice if you guys found somewhere else to hang out sometimes so I wouldn’t have to serve Joss like I’m her damn servant.” Trina shot a dirty look across the diner, which thankfully Josslyn Jacks couldn’t see, because she was facing the window.

“Trina, her grandmother owns the diner, and my mom’s been bringing me here since I was a baby. Probably even before that. I told you that if you got the job here, you’d have to deal with people from school.” Cameron waited for her to meet his eyes. “I thought you and Joss were better. Like, you were getting along.”

“You never take my side.” Trina just shook her head. “It gets exhausting sometimes—”

“I take your side when you need me to. And today, Joss didn’t do anything. No, don’t look at me like that,” Cameron said when Trina narrowed her eyes. “Joss said we should get together before Emma flies back to Berkeley and we go back to school tomorrow. Where else are we going to go? You’re the one that thinks everything Joss does is about you.”

“And you’re the one that spends his life explaining her. So—” Trina took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Fine, this time, maybe she didn’t mean anything by it. But the next time she makes a smart remark, I expect you to stick up for me.”

“Yeah, okay.” Cameron twisted off the stool when the bells jingled over the door, and another pair of teenagers walked in. Emma Scorpio-Drake was laughing and looking over her shoulder at Spencer Cassadine as they came in.

“Spence, you’re absolutely insane. There’s no way—” Emma broke off when she saw Joss and Oscar already seated. Cameron came over and took one of the leftover seats. “Hey! Sorry we’re late.”

“No, it’s cool, Oscar just got here, too.” Joss sat up, looked towards the counter. “I’ll wave Trina down to get some drinks—”

“Ah—maybe not.” Cameron stopped Joss before she could raise her arm. “She’ll be over in a minute. Spencer, let’s push that table over here so we can all sit.”

Trina came over with her notepad. “Can I take your orders?” she said, darkly. “You know, since I’m working.”

“Oh, I’m glad you’re here, Trina. Before we order, I wanted to tell you guys why I was late.” Emma’s pretty brown eyes sparkled. “I was on the phone with my mom, and she finally agreed to let me stay in Port Charles.”

“What?” Trina repeated as Cameron straightened, suddenly alert. “I thought you were going home and coming back next month with your parents.”

“Yeah, that was the plan, but then Spencer said he was starting after the holidays, and I just figured maybe I could start now, too. Make it easier. I’m gonna stay with my grandmother. Mom was on the fence about it, so I didn’t want to say anything.” Emma’s smile faded a bit. “I mean, that’s good, right?” Her gaze swept around the circle, when no one else said anything. “I don’t have to go back. I can stay here with you guys.”

“That’s great,” Joss said. “Cam, isn’t that great?” There was a wicked glint in her eyes that he’d have to yell at her about later. Because he knew why she was asking him.

“It’s—” Cameron couldn’t quite think or wrap his head around it. He knew Emma’s parents were moving back to Port Charles, and of course, he knew that meant Emma was coming back, too.

But there was supposed to be more time, and now there wasn’t because Emma was here. And was going to stay here. And that didn’t matter. Of course it didn’t. She’d been gone for two years. He cleared his throat. “It’s awesome. You and Spencer can be the new kids together.”

“Yes, I can’t wait to go to school with civilians,” Spencer muttered. “They put me in French. Elementary French. Can you believe it?”

“Oh, perish the thought, you might have to take an introductory class,” Joss said. “How ever will you survive the insult?”

Spencer’s eyes darkened. “Va te faire foutre—”

Emma flicked him. “Hey!”

“What’d he say?” Oscar asked. “I’m in Spanish. Cam?”

“He told Joss to go fuck herself.” Trina smiled when the rest of the table looked back at her. “Hey, I might be in Elementary French, but I googled the insults the first day of class last year. You know, considering you’re so worried about mixing with the hoi polloi,” she told Spencer, “you’d think your French insults would be a bit more highbrow. Can I take the drink order now?”

Davis House: Living Room

Danny ran past Sam into the house, nearly leaping onto Molly who was curled up on the sofa. “Danny, hey, slow down.”

“It’s okay.” Molly cuddled with her nephew, kissed the top of his head.

“It’s really not,” Sam said with a sigh. She boosted Scout on her hip, then pushed the door closed. “I thought Mom would be home by now.”

“She got held up in court, but she’ll be here for dinner.” Molly ticked Danny. “Hey, kid, do you want to play with my Nintendo Switch? It’s in my room on the dresser. You can play the games I got for Christmas.”

“Best aunt ever!” Danny said, punching his fist in the air. He raced for the stairs.

She sat up. “We’ve got at least twenty minutes before he gets bored, and you looked like you need to talk.”

Sam tossed the kids’ bag on the armchair and handed Scout a toy for her to play with. “I’m just not having a great day. Not that I can really remember what a great day is like.” She perched on the arm of the chair. “Maybe the day we were supposed to launch Aurora. Or the day before. When we were in New York. We signed the papers and took the train back to Port Charles. Just the two of us.”

“It’s been a hard couple of months.” Molly sat cross-legged. “Um, Mom said Drew moved out after Christmas. I saw him at the New Year’s party, but I didn’t talk to him. How…have you?”

“Earlier. We’re…exactly where we were before or maybe worse. And I know what you’re going to tell me. The same thing Mom and Kristina did. I just—” Sam crossed her arms, shrugged. “I don’t know. Every time I make a choice, I think it’s the right one, and then a dozen people tell me how it’s wrong, and I second guess myself.”

“We just want you to be okay, Sam. You and the kids. We can disagree on how to get there,” Molly added, “but that doesn’t mean we still don’t want the same thing in the end.”

“It’s—I just know that everything would be better if Jason could just…stay out of my life. Out of my life, Danny’s, and Drew’s. If it could just go back to being us. And Drew can’t understand that—or he won’t. I don’t know how to see past that.”

“Why would it be better?” Molly asked. “Drew just found out he’s not the guy he thought he was. And that guy is actually his twin brother. What if you found out you were our sister, and someone said you needed to stay away from us? Would you listen?”

“It’s—it’s different. It is. It’s not just someone, Mol. It’s Jason.” Sam’s throat was tight. “It’s been wrong since that night. He’s back, and he’s acting like we have to all forget it’s been five years. Maybe it wasn’t for him, but it was for me—”

“Did he want to get back together?” Molly furrowed her brow. “You never said.”

“No. No. The opposite. He asked for the divorce.” Sam pressed her lips together. “He came over before Christmas. He said he’d waited for me to make a choice, and then I didn’t, so he was going to. And what right does he have to do that? To force me into dealing with this? Maybe I needed more time.”

“More time to do what?” her sister asked, and Sam looked at her, confused. “What would time change? Would you have decided you didn’t want to be with Drew after all? That you did want Jason back?”

“I—” Sam shook her head. “No. N-No. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him I didn’t want him. But I wasn’t ready for that—and it’s just happening so fast, Mol. And it feels like I can’t breathe.”

“Take your time. Breathe. I mean, Jason wanted a divorce, and I’m sure that was hard. But it’s not like you’re getting it overnight. It’s probably for the best you and Drew are taking a step back, to think things through. Everyone needs to reset. Jason got to do that, but you and Drew kept going forward.”

Sam cocked her head to the side. “I guess…yeah, I guess when you think about it that way, it makes sense. Jason didn’t go back to the life he was living. He didn’t come home to me at all,” she muttered, glancing away, missing the way Molly’s eyes crinkled in confusion. “He went home to other people who were in his ear. I bet they made him file for divorce. Jason wouldn’t have done that to me. He would have waited. To let me make a choice.”

“Right,” Molly drawled. Her tone didn’t sound as certain or sympathetic now, but Sam wasn’t paying attention to that.

“I wonder if it was Sonny. He was really mad when I filed. ” Or it had been Elizabeth. Sam knew Elizabeth had shoved Jake in Jason’s life — Sam could have done that if she’d wanted. She could have used Danny to get Jason right back in her bed. If she’d wanted that. She didn’t.

“Sam, it doesn’t matter who gave Jason advice,” Molly said, and Sam looked back at her. “He filed. He’s moving forward. You need to figure out what you want to do next. There’s no rush. Mom can slow the divorce down if you want more time.”

“Yeah. I’m not worried about that.” The financial demands Sam had made would guarantee that. She’d done it out of anger, out of spite, she admitted to herself. Wanting to lash out and hurt Jason where it would do some damage— the business. But it would also keep things in limbo. She didn’t really know what she wanted, and there was nothing wrong with making sure no one else could move on until she did.  “Thanks, Mol. It was good to feel like someone was on my side.”

“Well—” Molly held up a finger, but Sam had already turned away and was heading upstairs.

“I’m gonna go up and check on Danny.”

When she was gone, Molly sighed, looked at her niece with her sweet smile and dark hair. “I didn’t exactly tell Mommy I was on her side, but if it makes her happy to think I am, I guess there’s no harm in that.”

Nero House: Sidewalk

Oscar trotted up the stairs, still shaking his head at the antics of his friends. Sometimes he was pretty sure everyone hated each other except for him and Cam. Joss had spent the whole time being way too happy that Emma was moving back — Oscar didn’t know her that well yet, but he did know Cam and Emma had dated since they were in elementary school and hadn’t broken up until she’d moved across the country. Joss didn’t even like Emma all that much, but she loved antagonizing Trina. And she enjoyed chaos.

He wasn’t sure she was above creating it on her own if things were too boring, so he’d have to keep his eye on that —

He shoved open the front door, saw light spilling out from the living room. “Hey, Kim—” He stopped when he saw his stepmother on the sofa, tears staining her cheeks. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“What—Oscar—” Kim slammed the photo album in her lap shut and set it on the coffee table. “You’re back earlier than I thought—or I lost track of time—” She swiped at her eyes. “How are your friends?”

He frowned, followed her into the kitchen. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen?” Kim never cried. Not even when his dad had gone missing or come back. She was strong. His dad had used to tease her about being tougher than a Navy SEAL.

“I’m fine. I just—you know—” Kim took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Oscar went back to the living room and picked up the photo album she’d been looking at. He flipped it open —

Kim and his dad were standing in front of the altar at the church, Kim smiling brightly, and his dad looking at her like he’d won the lottery. Oscar forgot sometimes how much his dad had loved Kim. From the moment Drew had brought her home — he’d just fallen like a ton of bricks.

“Oscar—”

He turned to look at his stepmother. “You were looking at your wedding album and crying.”

“Oh. God.” Kim closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Oscar. Okay. Okay. Look, my lawyer called. The divorce—it’s going through at the end of the month, and it hit me harder than I thought. That’s all.”

He flipped to the next page, saw the picture of all three of them. He didn’t really remember his biological mother, though he had lots of pictures of her. He’d loved Kim from the beginning, too. “He—am I going to live with him, or something?”

“No. No. Your dad—he said he didn’t want us to lose each other—unless that’s what you want.” Kim focused on him. “And that’s okay. It really is—”

“It’s not.” Oscar closed the album and set it down. “I didn’t even really think about how this is for you. You don’t say anything, you know? You just seemed like it wasn’t bothering you. And I thought, well, okay, we thought Dad was dead, so maybe you were already kind of moving on. You didn’t go to see him or try to get him to remember you—”

“Maybe I should have,” Kim murmured. She bit her lip, then sat on the sofa. She patted the cushion next to her. “Let’s talk. We haven’t really done that since the news hit.”

“I know it sucks, but—”

“When you came home that night and told me what you thought—and when Cam’s mom wanted to set up the test—I did it all without saying a word, you know? I just—I thought it wasn’t true. That there was a mistake. Drew loved us. He’d never just walk away and create a new family.” Kim stared at her hands, and Oscar realized with a start that she was still wearing her wedding ring. “So I ignored it. I treated it like it wasn’t happening. My Drew — he was thousands of miles away, lost in a desert. He’d never leave me. He promised he’d never leave me.” She brushed at her cheek. “Even when the tests came back, I refused to accept it. I carried on like nothing had changed.”

“Dad said you were stronger than him.”

“Then he came here to the house. He didn’t look like Drew, but he had your dad’s voice. His eyes. God—” Kim closed her eyes. Took another deep breath. “He asked me for a divorce. I said yes, and that was it. I decided to keep ignoring it. To keep pretending it wasn’t happening.”

“I’m sorry, Kim. I thought you were okay.”

“If you’d been even five minutes later,” she told him, “you’d still think that. This is not your problem, Oscar. And it’s not even really a problem. I know Drew didn’t ask for this. I believe him and everyone else when they tell me that he didn’t remember us.” Kim got to her feet. “I fought so hard for the navy, for anyone, to keep looking for Drew because I knew he’d never leave us. I was right. He didn’t. He didn’t choose this, Oscar. And he’s handling it.”

Oscar stood. “But you were crying—”

“We were just—I thought about how in love we were. How much we loved you, and how we were going to have more children. I thought you’d be such an amazing big brother, and Drew loved you so much, he should have more kids. And I was doing okay at being a mom, I think—”

“You’re a great mom. I should have called you—”

“No, we decided a long time ago that you weren’t going to call me Mom, remember? You were scared it meant you’d really forget your mother, and I said we’d keep her alive for you. I was going to be Kim, and she’d always be Mom. You don’t need to feel guilty about that.” Kim touched his face. “It’s just a word, baby. It doesn’t tell our story. I never needed it.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s hard to accept the end of a dream, Oscar. That’s all. And I didn’t know I was still holding on to it until the lawyer told me we had a date to finalize it. Drew doesn’t remember me. And it hurts. Even if it’s not his fault.”

“I guess that makes sense. But you don’t have to pretend not to be hurt, Kim. I’m here. I can listen.”

“I know. I love you for that.” She closed her arms around him, and he hugged her tightly. “But I’m the parent, and you’re the kid. We can talk about this if you need to, but I need to handle this the best way I know how, okay? And that’s by just…going on with my life.”

“Okay.”

“Good. You should go upstairs, make sure you have everything you need for school tomorrow.”

“It’s barely six—” Kim just looked at him, and he got the message. She needed a minute to herself. “Yeah, okay.”

Oscar left Kim in the living room, still troubled by the entire conversation. He’d remembered his dad talking to him about maybe having more kids. And Drew had done that, hadn’t he? He had a daughter. Oscar hadn’t met his sister yet, but Drew had gone on to live the life he’d planned with Kim, only he’d done it with someone else.

And Kim had kept holding onto his dad. Fighting for him to come home or for the Navy to find out what had happened. She’d never had those kids she wanted. It must have sucked to learn about Drew’s life here in Port Charles.

Oscar sat at his desk, staring at a photo of himself with his father before he’d left for that last tour of duty. Drew had replaced the family he’d left behind, hadn’t he? New wife, new son. New daughter. And he hadn’t realized anyone was missing from that picture.  He hadn’t really thought about what Kim was going through, but she was a real person who was hurting, and she was the only one who couldn’t get any piece of that life she’d wanted back. It didn’t seem fair that she was the one left out in the cold when she’d held on the hardest.

He picked up the picture and took it out of the frame, shoving it in the drawer, then went over to a shoebox where he’d dumped a bunch of photos. He searched until he found one of himself and Kim when he’d graduated eighth grade. Then he put it back in the frame and set it on his desk.

From now on, he’d remember what—and who—mattered most.

Fell in love with my aggression
But I think you learned your lesson
I’m intense, your stare is self-defense
Don’t blame me now you’re all fucked up
I’m the same me that you wanted tucked up in your bed
Now, you want a bullet in your head
– Warning Shots, Gabbie Hanna

---

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Metro Court: Restaurant

He was getting tired of the pariah treatment.

The hostess that had shown Franco Baldwin to his father’s table had given him a dirty look, and the expressions on the other diners in restaurant weren’t much better. Years of cultivating a better reputation demolished in a single night.

It put him in a rotten mood which only got worse when his father refused to pick up on any of the hints Franco had been dropping since they’d sat down to breakfast. How many damn times did Franco have to ask about the stupid party before Scott just told Franco what he wanted to know?

Scott sipped his coffee. “It’s a shame you couldn’t come—”

“Don’t act like I was invited, Pops.” Franco snorted, digging his fork into the home fries. “I am back to persona non grata in this damn place—”

“Well, what did you think was going to happen when you got into a fight with a teenager?” Scott demanded. “Franco, I told you that wasn’t going to make things easier. Why didn’t you take my advice and go back to New York? Or Rochester? Or anywhere that wasn’t filled with people who have bad memories of you—”

“If you want me gone, just say that—”

“That’s not—” Scott pressed his lips together. “I just think maybe you’ve burned a few too many bridges around here,” he said carefully. “And you might feel better with a fresh start. Robert Frank has a bad reputation — Franco Baldwin doesn’t—and you had that art show a few months ago. It went pretty well. You could start over somewhere else.”

Franco tipped his head. “I’ll grant you that I don’t have many friends here. But I have Ava and Nina. There’s Kiki. You, when you’re not annoyed with me.” He picked up his coffee. “I guess I’m just frustrated. I feel like Elizabeth and I could have resolved our issues if Jason Morgan hadn’t popped up like a goddamn Whack-a-Mole and reminded her of all the bad things I’ve done—”

“Franco, that’s not why—”

“I could have gotten around her if it wasn’t for him,” Franco muttered. “And now I’m going out of my mind wondering if she’s been dragged back into all of this. He’s going to hurt her, Pops, just like he always does. You don’t know—”

“Franco—what’s between the two of them is between them. Elizabeth has made it very clear she doesn’t want you in her life. You need to let it go.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He considered his next question carefully because Scott wasn’t going to stay on the topic much longer without getting really irritated. Or suspicious. “Okay, look, just—tell me straight, okay? If you know. Are they together? So I can prepare myself,” he added hastily. “I don’t want to just—see them. I want to be ready.”

“I don’t know for sure,” Scott said slowly. “But they were at the party, and they left together. That’s all I know.”

Franco made a face, then looked back at his plate. That wasn’t much more than he already knew. But it was Jason Morgan, wasn’t it? He’d leave her for Sam. Didn’t he always? Elizabeth had confessed how much it hurt and how she’d lied to protect herself from that — so Franco just had to bide his time and hope that when it finally came crashing down, he’d be there.

Now, whether he’d want to pick up the pieces or grind them into the ground — well, he hadn’t made up his mind on that. Only time would tell which Elizabeth deserved.

Morgan’s Auto: Lobby

Elizabeth Webber did a slow turn around the garage’s lobby, taking in the dreary concrete walls, the rundown counter, and the stains on the floor. “I know you’re not into interior decorating, but—”

“Yeah, I know.” Jason Morgan folded his arms, leaned against the doorframe that separated the lobby from the office area in the back. “I should probably do something about that before it opens.”

“You know, some people are into the ruined look.” She stripped off her jacket, tossed it over the counter, then laughed. “Oh my God. How old is that computer?”

“Spinelli wants to keep it.” Jason came to her side as they looked at the ancient monitor that was roughly the size of an old television. It had probably been white in a former life, but now looked like it was coated with a thick layer of orange…something. The keyboard didn’t look much better, and the tower that sat next to it still had a drive for floppy disks. “He says it might be historically significant.”

She snorted. “He probably wants to put it in a glass case.” She ran a finger down the counter, wincing at the grime. “We’re not doing this all ourselves, are we?”

“Relax.” Jason’s hands came down on her shoulders and she leaned back against him. “I’m going to ask Carly to handle the customer service areas. She’ll know who to call for all of this and make it look…”

“Habitable?” Elizabeth said. He laughed. “That’s a great idea. You’ll make her really happy.”

“Silver lining. Thank you.”

“For what?” Elizabeth turned in his arms, raised her brows. “For not turning and running the minute I saw the lobby? You know, you were only concerned with the garage bays when we were looking. I don’t think we even considered the rest of the building.”

“No, thank you for putting up with Carly. I know it’s not easy—”

“Carly lashes out when she’s hurt.” Elizabeth shrugged and went towards the office area. Behind the door was a long thin hallway that opened into what would be Jason’s office, a space for a staff room, and a bathroom at the end. The door to that room was open, and she could see the grimy tile from here. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere near that toilet.”

“I’ll have it replaced. About Carly—”

“Jason. Carly and I will never be friends, but we understand each other. Yeah, what happened last month—that was bad. But are we really going to pretend that I don’t do that, too?”

Jason made a face. “You’re not like Carly.”

“Oh, please.” She folded her arms. “I never said anything cruel to you when I was angry? I never wanted to hurt you the way I was hurting? Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I hurt you, too—”

“And that’s why we forgive each other, right? Carly wanted to hurt me, Jason. To push me away, so you’d need her. And she knew what buttons to push. You don’t have to worry about that. We talked about it on New Year’s, and I think she’s really going to try this time. You’re going to make her entire day asking for help with something she can do better than I ever could. She’ll make this place look great, and every time she comes here, she’ll see it and remember that you asked her.”

“I’d ask her for more if I thought she wouldn’t go overboard and do too much.” Jason sighed, then shook his head. “But you’re right. It needs to be done and she’ll do a great job. And we’ll be able to concentrate on everything else.”

“Speaking of which, I got a message from Lucky,” Elizabeth said. She went back into the lobby to find her cell phone. “He and Luke landed in Istanbul this morning. Luke’s working on the addresses Spinelli gave him, and Lucky’s going to hook up with Spinelli to help with the files.”

Jason rubbed his chest. “I hate that we’re letting them handle Valentin. Do you really trust them?”

“Luke and Lucky? I don’t see a reason not to.” Elizabeth frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t like that the WSB couldn’t send someone else—”

“Luke’s got WSB contacts all over the world. Look, he’s not my favorite person, and neither is Lucky. But that’s personal. This is, well, this is business, I guess. They brought Jake home, didn’t they?”

“And I still don’t like how that happened. Helena just handed him over, and Luke wasn’t curious why?”

“Well, we know why now. Because she intended to send that box of magic tricks to Jake and trigger the Chimera toxin. I don’t know how Luke or Lucky could have known that before it happened—” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “What exactly do you think they’re going to do in Turkey?”

“Lucky waited more than two years to tell you it was Nikolas that sent him to Greece where he found Jake. As soon as we found that out, didn’t we start asking questions about Nikolas’s involvement? And Helena’s video confirmed it.”

“I—” She exhaled slowly and looked away. He grimaced. Maybe he shouldn’t be pushing this, but he hated that Elizabeth still had any measure of blind faith in the Spencer men after the way they’d manipulated her all her life.

“And if Helena wasn’t just bluffing, if Nikolas involved, then he could have known about Chimera—”

“Maybe he knew, maybe he didn’t. I can’t—I can’t believe he knew Jake was in danger and said nothing.” She wrapped her arms around her upper torso, troubled. “I know that he was struggling those last few years. That something dark was swirling. He kept so many secrets, Jason. I don’t know when it started. Or why. Even when I thought we were telling the same lies, I always knew there was something more he was keeping.”

“Hey.” Jason took her in his arms, relieved when she came willingly. He pressed his cheek to her hair. “I’m sorry. I know how much he mattered to you, that it hurts to think he kept Jake from you.”

“I just—it’s so hard to accept. I know, logically, if he was the one that sent Lucky to Greece, he must have known something. But I just—I guess until I have something in front of me that proves it, I can’t let go of who he used to be.”

Jason hoped, for Elizabeth and for Laura, that they never found that hard proof, but he had a sinking feeling that the Cassadine prince had been twisted up in all of this more than they could ever prove. He drew back so that he could see her face. “I didn’t mean to bring that all up. It’s like I said — we didn’t need much to start asking questions about Nikolas. Why didn’t they say anything?”

“I guess, but—”

“I think they know more than they’re telling us.”

“That’s usually true with Luke. All right. Do you—should we go to Turkey? I mean, you decided not to go yesterday. Have you changed your mind?”

“No.” Jason shook his head. “I don’t like it, but Luke’s our only option if the WSB isn’t going to give us anyone else on the ground. I don’t know the language, and I don’t have the contacts. That’s not the part of the world I can operate in. If we were talking about South America, it’d be different. I just—I don’t want to forget who we’re dealing with.”

“Fair enough.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. That’s enough of all of that. Do you want to call Carly today? If you want to be open by the end of the month—”

The lobby door swung open behind them, and Spinelli hurried in, a thick stack of folders in his hands. “Bonjour, hola, and good day,” he said, his tone bright. He dropped his satchel with his laptop on the counter, set the stack next to it. “I have decrypted some more files, and as Stone Cold requested—I have brought them to you.”

Elizabeth eyed the stack of papers organized into several manila folders. “That’s…a lot of reading.”

“Yeah.” Jason grimaced. “I guess it’s time to get to work.”

Penthouse: Hallway

This penthouse had been his home for a little over a year, Drew Cain thought, and he remembered it being his home for far longer, though he knew now those memories were nothing but more lies meant to deceive him into believing he was someone he wasn’t. For the first time he thought about what it meant for his brother, for Jason, to come to him that day in November, and knock on the door. To extend the olive branch to the man who was living his life.

“Before I saw you at the police station,” Jason continued, “I thought you were part of all of this. That you were behind it—”

“How dare you—”

“But I don’t anymore,” Jason said, and Drew fell silent. A door creaked upstairs. But no one made a sound. But Sam was there. Just not coming down.

Because she knew.

“I believe you when you say you remember your life. What you think is your life. But I have those memories, too,” Jason told him. “Jake told me—”

“Don’t go near my son—I knew Elizabeth believed you, but I didn’t think she’d really let Jake be part of it until we knew for sure—”

“She does know for sure,” Jason said. “But Jake told me that he loves you. And that you told him about the day he was born. I lived that day. I thought they’d both die—”

“I lived that day—” Drew opened his eyes, burning with bitterness and anger. “You think you can just come here and steal my life?”

“No, I just wanted to come home,” Jason said. “Whoever trapped me in a coma for five years also did this to you. And now we know who you were before the accident. Oscar’s test came back positive. He’s related to Jake, which means you’re—”

“I know who I am—”

“Andrew Cain,” Jason said, and the Drew closed his mouth. “You were a Navy SEAL, and people called you Drew. You lived in San Diego, and you had a son.”

“I am not—” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m Jason Morgan. I have the memories. I’m living my life. I have my sons—”

“I just wanted to make it clear that I know you didn’t do this,” Jason said, “and that if you want to find out who did—”

“Thank you for your concern,” Drew muttered, glaring at him. “Now get out.”

The memory faded, and Drew thought now of the kindness Jason had shown him. The patience and understanding that he hadn’t been obligated to demonstrate. He’d managed to stand in front of the man who’d stolen his life, unintentionally or not, and not think about the woman upstairs refusing to believe the truth.

Had that been the beginning of the break? Sam refusing to face the truth, even as she’d lied to his face? She’d called him Jason right until the results had come in—and she’d seamlessly switched to calling him Drew. Had it been a relief for her to stop pretending? Or had her old con skills kicked in?

Sam had stayed upstairs on that visit — and to Drew’s knowledge, she’d never looked Jason in the face again until just before she’d filed the divorce papers. He rubbed his chest. Maybe they’d always been doomed to fail.

He raised his hand to knock on the door that had been his home, and waited. He heard rustling inside, a soft sigh, then the door opened and Sam was standing there. Her expression was blank, her eyes guarded.

“Drew. I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“It’s been a few days—” he spied Danny behind her, and Scout scooting around the coffee table. “I wanted to see the kids, and I thought we should touch base.”

“Yeah, um, sure. Sure.” Sam stepped back, smiling as Danny tossed down his tablet and rushed towards him.

“Dad, Dad! I missed you!” Danny squeezed him tightly. “I’m taking really good care of Scout, just like you told me, but I miss you. When are you coming home?”

“I don’t know yet, buddy. But I missed you, too.” Drew sat on the sofa, with Danny next to him, then lifted his daughter into his arms. His daughter. One of the few pieces of his world that still belonged to him.

“Daddy.” Scout touched his face. “Love.”

“I love you, too.” He pressed his forehead to hers, closed his eyes.

“You should stay for lunch.”

He glanced over to find Sam watching them. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You can have some time with them, and then I’ll put Scout down for her nap. We’ll be able to talk then.”

Greystone: Living Room

It was never a good day when Diane Miller darkened his door unannounced, especially with that look on her face.

Sonny rose from the sofa, lifted his brows. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, it’s a business call.” Diane set her briefcase on the desk, tossed her fur coat over the back of the desk chair, then focused on him. “I’ve received some financial documents that make it clear that you may want to consider getting new legal representation.”

Sonny frowned. “Financial documents? Shit, Diane, did you get nabbed for insider trading or something—”

Diane scowled. “As if I would ever be ill-bred enough to get caught.” She sniffed, then cleared her throat. “I’m representing Jason in his divorce. How, uh, familiar are you with those papers?”

“I read Sam’s filing. I know she made a lot of—” Sonny grimaced, then stalked over to the minibar, giving one longing glance to the bourbon before pouring a glass of water. “She made a lot of financial demands. Half of everything. Half of the bank accounts, all of Aurora, which is insane, half of all property—” He stopped. Looked at Diane. “Shit. Interest in the warehouse. The coffee company.”

“Now, I stay out of that part of your world entirely. I don’t know who you have managing your business affairs these days, and I’m sure everything is in order. But I don’t have to tell you that having a court delve into any of that is risky. Even for law-abiding citizens. Which, of course, you are.”

Sonny exhaled slowly. “Carly never made the finances part of it,” he murmured. “We always tore each other to shreds over the kids. Over the legal money. But she never came for the coffee company. Or anything on the island. Damn it, Sam isn’t asking for any of that, is she?”

“Half of everything is everything. And you and Jason have always been equal partners, at least since 1999 when you co-founded the coffee company. Now, again, I can’t get into the specifics, though you’re welcome to inquire with Jason to see if he’ll offer any.”

“Yeah, I’ll be doing that. Christ. That’s the last thing I need right now.” Sonny sat on the arm of the sofa. “You got financial documents. Subpoenas?”

“To go into the tax records for the last ten years.” Diane winced. “Before and after the marriage to ensure nothing is being hidden. I mean, that type of thing is standard in divorce cases. I just—I’m filing a motion to quash, but I might lose it. I can’t get into more of it, Sonny. But at some point, there’s a chance your needs will conflict with Jason’s.”

“I’ll call—” Sonny winced. “I can’t call Alexis,” he muttered. “She’s filing these motions. Which means Sam knows exactly what she’s doing. That conniving gold-digging bitch.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to consider your options.” Diane retrieved her coat and briefcase. “You may want to remind Jason that I have the ammunition we need to make Sam go away quietly with nothing more than what she walked in, other than reasonable child support. If he’ll just let me off the leash, I could have this dealt with by dinner.”

Nero House: Oscar’s Bedroom

“Friday?” Oscar Nero frowned, looked at the school calendar pinned on his bulletin board. “Yeah, uh, that should work.”

“Are you sure? Because I can do whatever night you want. I can work around your schedule. I know you’re going back to school tomorrow—”

The voice on the other end of the phone was his father, which was still a strange thought for Oscar after five years of believing Drew Cain to be dead somewhere in an Afghani desert.

Then again, since Drew didn’t remember anything about his life before waking up in Port Charles, New York, in a lot of ways, Oscar’s father was still lost in the desert.

But that wasn’t fair, Oscar thought. His dad hadn’t wanted to leave him. And it wasn’t his dad’s fault that some evil supervillain had played with his brain and stolen all his memories. And it wasn’t his dad’s fault that he’d built a whole new family with a new wife and new kids—

No, none of that was Drew Cain’s fault. Sometimes, though, it was hard to remember that, but Oscar was determined to try.

“No, no. Friday is good.” Oscar cleared his throat. “But I gotta go. I’m supposed to be at Kelly’s in, like, ten minutes, and it takes fifteen just to bike over there. Joss is gonna be ticked.”

“Yeah, I know how she gets. I’ll talk to you later.” The call disconnected, but Drew’s final words rattled around Oscar’s head after he was gone. I know how she gets. Another reminder that Drew had lived an entire life that had nothing to do with Oscar.

He’d been lucky, Oscar thought. He’d moved across the country near the end of the year, and somehow it had worked out. He’d been put into an algebra class with Cameron Webber and Joss Jacks. Joss was so pretty and vibrant and funny that Oscar had just lost his mind and somehow she’d liked him back. And Cam was so nice — and his girlfriend, Trina Robinson, had been really nice, too. He’d made friends without even trying.  And now Joss was his girlfriend, and Oscar had a whole life in Port Charles that was great.

Except when he remembered that his dad knew Joss and Cam better than he knew Oscar. Maybe even better than Oscar knew them since he’d been around as they’d grown up and Oscar had only been here eight months.

He exhaled slowly. It was no one’s fault, he reminded himself. No one had asked for this, least of all his dad. They would build new memories.

He jogged down the steps and dashed into the kitchen where his stepmother, Kim, was unpacking grocery bags. “Hey. I’m going to Kelly’s.”

“Okay, but don’t stay out too late. You have to get up early for school tomorrow—”

Oscar made a face. “It’s not fair that I’m already going back. In San Diego, we’d have another week off—”

“I know, but you get out a week earlier in June, so you’ll be grateful then.” Kim flashed him a smile, and he grinned back at her. He’d been lucky here, too, he thought. His stepmother could have dumped him in the system when Drew had disappeared. Could have accepted when the Navy said Drew Cain had deserted his unit and washed her hands of the little kid that she’d only known for two years. But not Kim. She’d dug in. She’d adopted Oscar, she’d fought for his dad to be listed as missing in action, and she’d made them a family.

Maybe he’d lost his dad, but he’d found a mother, and that was okay, right?

“Yeah, yeah, but I’ll still complain. It’s my thing.” He stopped at the doorway, then turned back. “Oh, don’t worry about me for dinner on Friday, okay? My, um, dad called. We’re going to do something.”

“Oh.” Kim’s smile faltered, but then brightened again so quickly Oscar thought maybe he’d imagined it. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re spending more time together.”

“Me, too. It’ll be weird at first,” he said. “But I think we’ll be okay. Right? I mean, I didn’t know Cam before I moved here, and now he’s my best friend.”

“Exactly. You and your dad, it’ll come back to you. And everything will be just like before.” Kim smiled, and this time Oscar knew it was a little bit false, but he let it go. Adults were allowed to be weird, right? “Go have a great time. Say hi to your friends for me.”

“Thanks. See you later!”

Penthouse: Living Room

After lunch, Sam settled Scout in her room for her afternoon nap, while Drew bribed Danny with some money for one of his tablet games so he’d hang out in his room. Divide and conquer had always been their approach to parenting before the world had fallen apart.

She came down the steps last, the wariness back in her eyes. “You wanted to talk.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, I know you were upset that I left. And we didn’t leave things on a great note—”

“No, that’s putting it mildly,” she murmured. She wrapped her arms around her upper torso and looked down.

Their final argument had been a terrible one — and Drew still didn’t know where to go from there.

I wanted him gone. As long as I wanted Jason, Jake was in the way.

What a terrible thing to learn about the woman you loved, the woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. And her anger was still so fresh, so raw—it had been present that awful day  a little more than a year ago when Sam had confronted Jake about pretending to be in trouble so his parents would reunite—and he’d run out of the house into the path of an incoming car. If she hadn’t been trapped in the basement—would she have gone for help?

Drew forced those thoughts from his mind—it was no good to dwell on any of that. Jake wasn’t a factor between them anymore and never would be again.

“I meant what I said on Christmas. Danny made his choice that day. He told Jason he wanted to keep me right now, and Jason was fine with it—”

“He doesn’t get a choice,” Sam began but Drew held up a hand.

“He does for me. Without his understanding, I couldn’t go forward. I told you that, and I get that you don’t want it that way, but that’s how it is for me. He’s my brother, Sam. You don’t have to like it, and I may not know what to do with it yet, but that’s how it is.”

Sam pressed her lips together, her eyes hot. “Anything else you want to dictate?”

“I’m—” He took a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to explain how I feel. There’s a lot going on in my head. Memories that aren’t mine, and a past I don’t know anything about. A son I never knew about. Sons that aren’t mine—not biologically,” he added when Sam opened her mouth. “I haven’t been able to reach out to Jake—”

“Because she made sure to shove Jake in Jason’s face, didn’t she? She used him from the beginning and she’s doing it again—”

A child slithered down his spine because he knew that look in her eyes, didn’t he? That tone in her voice. Of course he didn’t know it. He hadn’t lived through it. But he had the memories of the last time Sam had been furious at Elizabeth, resenting Jake’s entire existence.

“However it fell out,” he interrupted, and Sam closed her mouth with a snap. “It’s where we are. I didn’t reach out to Jake because it would be too hard. But I saw him on Christmas, and I think it’s going to be okay. I’m doing my best, Sam. We all are. There’s no right way or wrong way to do any of this. There’s just…what I can handle. I’m sorry. I know none of this is what you want to hear—”

“You don’t know anything about what I want to hear.” Sam’s arms dropped to her side. “I’m fine with Jake being out of our lives. It makes things simpler. Fine. Jason’s given you his stamp of approval. Danny’s yours. Scout’s yours. What else do you need?”

“I don’t know. I just know I’m not ready for either of us to go on pretending like the whole world didn’t change a few months ago. That’s what you wanted to do. To just go on with the life we’d planned. But that life isn’t possible. Not anymore.”

“Because you don’t want it—” Sam’s voice broke. “You don’t want me. You’re angry because I’m trying to get Jason out of our lives. I’m just trying to make it all go away so we can be happy again—”

“I don’t know if I want it to go away. You think you need Jason gone, and I respect that. But—” Drew swallowed. “I’d have to give him up, too, wouldn’t I? I don’t know if we can be brothers, but you’d have me cut that off before—”

“You don’t need him! You’ve gone your whole life without him—and Jason’s not so damn special that you have to destroy everything you have to keep him.” Sam scoffed. “Believe me, I should know.”

“I’m not destroying anything, Sam. I’m telling you I want that door to stay open. And I can’t do anything that’s going to close it. If I stay with you, if I come back right now, I’m co-signing everything you’re asking to do in those papers.” Drew shook his head, sadly. “I can’t do it, Sam. I’m sorry.”

Sam brushed away a tear, nodding. “Okay. Okay. Then that’s where we are. Because it’s a deal breaker for me. I want him gone from my life the way he was supposed to be—”

“He wasn’t gone, Sam. These last few years, he was me. I was him. Or did you never truly accept that?”

She drew in a sharp breath, then stared at the ground. “I don’t know. Maybe not. I just—I know that it has to be this way. I want it this way. And you don’t. So this is where we leave each other.”

Rise above the ground, where you lay
You’ve been laying there so long
You’ve just about forgotten how
To live your life
Well, you can’t find where you belong
No, you can’t find where you fit in
Don’t you think it’s time you gave your life a chance again
– Ready to Rise, Vaughan Penn

---

July 2016

Cassadine Island, Greece

Heat seared into his skin, burning through the tattered remains of his white shirt and dark pants. From the top of his disheveled dark hair to the tips of his toes, still tucked, oddly enough, inside waterlogged Italian loafers.

He lay nearly dead on the sand, his cheek pressed against the ground, arms spread at his sides, the dull roar of the Aegean and the brightness of the sun piercing his head with sharp pain—

It would be easier, simpler for all if he stayed where he was, waiting for the inevitable end when the tide rose and washed him back out to sea just as it washed him ashore.

Except…

He was a Cassadine.

Death was only the beginning, and simple was for the peasants they’d ruled for centuries. Who cared that the Russian Revolution had ripped away that aristocratic privilege? Or if society’s laws tried to reign in their desire for power and wealth?

It wasn’t even the first time this year that death had pursued him. It would take more than a gunshot to the chest and a plunge into the sea below to destroy most Cassadines.

And he was no mere Cassadine, as his grandmother had been fond of telling him, though when Helena spoke those words, they always sounded more ominous than proud.

You, my darling grandson, have the blood of czars in your veins. Of warlords and Cossacks. The world should tremble before you.

He was the son of Stavros, grandson of Mikkos; he could trace his lineage back to the beginnings of Russia, to what was little more than a cold wasteland known as Muscovy. The Cassadines had endured before the empire, and they would rise from its ashes like phoenixes.

He was Nikolas Cassadine, and he would not go quietly into the night and let all that belonged to him — his power, his wealth, his family — be stolen from him by some mere nobody, some bastard that had no sense of honor or compassion.

He might have the darkness of the Cassadine curse coursing through him, but he also had the gentle strength and love of Laura Webber Spencer, the quiet power that came only from doing what was right and good.

He’d lost sight of that, and maybe it was beyond his power to regain it, but —

He would not give up.

Nikolas pushed himself up on one elbow, his blurred vision slowly sharpening. Was anyone looking for him? Or had they given him up for dead?

Everything throbbed with pain, from his head to his toes — he looked at them now, wiggling inside the ruined shoes. Nikolas exhaled slowly.

Valentin. The bastard Cassadine who had threatened to murder Ava Jerome if Nikolas didn’t sign over the Cassadine estate and fortune. And he’d done it, hadn’t he? He dragged his hands down his face, wincing when the sand scratched his face. Christ. He’d signed away everything, and Valentin had still nearly pulled the trigger.

They’d fought—and then nothing.

Nikolas rolled to his feet, wincing as the pain bit into his shoulder anew. He looked around the beach, looked up to the cliffs. He was on the far side of the island. If they were looking for him, they might not have found him yet.

And if they weren’t looking, well—

Nikolas clutched his shoulder and started to walk. He’d get himself cleaned up, and then he’d take care of this usurper, this fraud, one way or the other.

He was Nikolas Mikail Stavrosovich Cassadine, and he would not go quietly.

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Istanbul, Turkey: International Airport

Luke Spencer flipped through his wallet, extracted a credit card which he extended to his son. “Go get us a car, Cowboy. A low key one,” he added. “Don’t get nothing flashy. This isn’t Budapest. We need to stay under the radar.”

“Got it, no sports cars.” Lucky Spencer picked up the bag he’d carried onto the flight, a tan satchel that he looped across his chest. “You got anything against monster trucks?”

“Smart ass,” Luke muttered. “I need to make some calls. I’ll meet you outside.”

Lucky offered a two-finger salute, heading for the rental counter where he got the car he wanted — a sweet two-seater Etox Zafer in a cherry red. If he was going to be dragged away from his own mission because his brother had some grand plan, Lucky was going to make it clear he wasn’t taking orders.

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to take them from Nikolas, of all people.

The rental agent behind the counter smiled as she slid the keys toward Lucky.

“Başka bir şey var mı, efendim?” she said.

Lucky’s Turkish was rusty, but he could hold his own. “No, I don’t need anything else, thanks,” he said, answering back in her language and leaving to meet his father.

The agent had reminded him of Elizabeth, he thought, shoving the rental paperwork into his satchel. Superficially — chestnut brown hair, light skin, blue eyes. Not uncommon on the European side of Istanbul, but it was still an unwelcome reminder. Lucky had spent the last week or so trying to forget his last encounter with his ex-wife, her harsh words, and the familiar disappointment in those eyes.

He’d never quite measured up to her expectations as a husband or a father, even before he’d left Port Charles, and he was mostly used to that. He’d never lived up to anyone’s expectations, not since Helena Cassadine had drugged and kidnapped him, then faked his death with a fire. He usually talked his way around Elizabeth when she was in those kinds of moods, but he hadn’t been able to shake her as easily this time.

He’d just wanted to leave, to follow up on a lead he was sure would break open the whole goddamn mess — but she’d looked at him with those eyes and reminded him of all the ways he’d let her down.

So he’d pulled out the big guns, and he’d told her the lie he’d been keeping in his back pocket.

I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to…

His chest tightened as he remembered the way she’d looked, when she’d understood what he was telling her. He didn’t stay in Port Charles and didn’t talk much to any of the kids because they didn’t feel like his.

A damned lie, Lucky thought as he found the car he’d rented in the parking lot. He’d never given Cameron’s paternity a second thought. Not since the little boy had looked at him with his mother’s eyes and called him Daddy. And Jake? God, he’d always love Jake. Believing him dead for four years had shattered his whole world.

And of course, he loved Aiden. The sweet, funny kid who looked just like Lucky, but had his mother’s smile—

He exhaled slowly. But Elizabeth had believed him, and Lucky had been able to leave. Had gone to Bosnia, sure that this time he’d found the smoking gun. That he’d be able to show Elizabeth the truth and there was time to fix the rest of it, wasn’t there?

But it had been another dead end. He’d ripped out Elizabeth’s heart and hurt her for nothing.

“You ready, Cowboy?” Luke came up, then scowled. “The hell is this?” he demanded. He yanked an unlit cigar from his mouth. “What’d I tell you about flashy?”

“I heard you. I decided I didn’t care.” Lucky opened the door. “You want to complain, or do you want get this over with?”

Luke grumbled but slid into the passenger side. “You really need to learn about traveling under cover.”

“And you need to relax and have a little fun.” Lucky tossed his bag in the small space behind the seats. “And work on your Turkish. You sound like an idiot.”

“You—” Luke sputtered, but his answer was lost as Lucky put the car into gear, revved the engine and pealed out of the parking lot.

Fatih District: Kiremit Caddesi

Kiremit Caddesi was a steep street in the Balat neighborhood on the European side of the old city. It climbed from the shores of Golden Horn estuary towards the Fatih district center and considered itself a tourist destination, which meant it was easier to blend in if you were an American woman on the run.

Britt Westbourne stepped out of the taxi and looked dubiously at the row of brightly colored houses, then down at the address she’d scribbled back in Geneva. This was the right street, she thought. And that was the house number — but she’d expected something a bit more —

Well, a bit more. She’d lived in that huge gothic mansion on Spoon Island, and she’d seen the estate in Greece. And one of the Cassadine properties in Moscow—

But this tiny street with the tall houses built so close together she almost felt claustrophobic—this didn’t feel like a Cassadine house. The bright blue building rose four stories from the ground, with bars covering the ground floor windows, and even the front door. Britt gripped the handle on her single suitcase tightly as she went to the front door and knocked.

A moment later the heavy oak door behind the bars opened, and she saw Nikolas. He unlocked the barred gate and led her into the tiny foyer. A flight of stairs was directly in front of them next to a skinny hallway that led towards the back of the house. To the side was a cramped room with sofas and a coffee table.

“Not exactly the Ritz,” Nikolas said, closing the door behind her. “But it’ll do for now. It’s good to see you.”

“Really? I haven’t heard from you since last April.” Britt set her suitcase at her feet. “What new hoops do you have for me to jump through?”

Nikolas arched a brow. “Come with me, I’ll show you the room  where you’ll be staying.” He picked up her luggage and started up the cramped set of stairs.

“Oh, you’re a bellhop now?” she muttered darkly, but followed. Three flights later — when they’d reached the top of the house, and Britt wanted to choke him, Nikolas showed her a bedroom overlooking the street. It was small and cramped, with a double bed tucked against the wall, a desk next to it and a tall dresser in the corner by the windows. “Are you planning to tell me anything at all?”

“Luke and Lucky are on their way,” Nikolas said, and Britt blinked. “Valentin is in Istanbul, so they’ve been tasked with locating him. I thought it would be a good time for us to gather and discuss what’s next.”

“Nikolas—”

He stopped at the door. “You should know I gave Luke and Lucky a cover story that has to do with you. They were following a lead for me last November and needed something to tell the others back home. I told them to use you.”

“Use me?” Britt repeated. “What does that mean?”

“Lucky supposedly caught up to you. We told them that you and Faison split up around the time Jason showed up in Port Charles, and that you spent a few weeks at the clinic last year and woke up Jason. Since it’s not far from the truth—”

“This is the story they told everyone back in Port Charles?” Britt demanded. “What happens if they find out I haven’t seen my father in over a year?”

“Then we’ll just tell them you lied.” Nikolas raised his brow. “They’ll believe that, won’t they? With Elizabeth there to remind them of your track record?”

Britt clenched her jaw at the reminder that her past was littered with lies and deception. “I prefer to do my own lying,” she said coolly, “so in the future, why don’t you ask me first?”

Nikolas tipped his head. “Do you have a problem with the arrangement, Britt? We had a deal. You help me bring down Valentin, and you get your life back.”

When she’d made that deal, she’d never dreamed that eighteen months later, she’d still be waiting for that miracle. But maybe this time — whatever Valentin was doing — maybe this time whatever she was asked to do, it would finally be enough.

“No, that’s still the deal. When does everyone else get here?”

“Soon. We’ll get started when they get here.”

“Can’t wait.”

Kiremit: Study

“You get the whole second floor to yourself?” Luke muttered as he followed Lucky into the room Nikolas referred to as his study but was nothing more than the smaller of the two bedrooms on the floor. He’d had the bed removed and a desk moved in. It overlooked the street, which meant he could track the comings and goings.

He needed to maintain control of the situation, knowing that the volatile mixture of the personalities gathered—himself included—would need little kindling to explode. That was the last thing he needed.

“You’re not in the States anymore, Luke,” Nikolas said dryly. “It’s ground floor, then first story—”

“Oh, who the hell cares—I still have to drag my ass up two flights of stairs just to get to my own room,” Luke began.

“It could be three flights,” Britt said from the doorway, and the three men twisted to look at her. Nikolas saw the dismay in Luke’s face and the irritation in his brother’s. “Oh, I see no one warned you that your trio was a quartet, huh?”

“What the hell is Little Obrecht doing here?” Luke demanded. “Look, I agreed to work with you, not with her—”

“Do you have a medical degree?” Nikolas cut in sharply, and Luke sat back. “No. Lucky, you said that Spinelli was planning to share files with you as he decrypted them. You said there were medical files.”

“Yeah. But—”

“Britt’s a doctor. I know she isn’t exactly the ideal partner, but as long as you assume every word she says is probably a lie, you’ll be fine—”

“That’s two,” Britt said, and he blinked at her. “You insult me one more time and you can read your own damn files. I’ll turn myself into the authorities back in Port Charles. Along with a really interesting story about a dead Cassadine prince. I am not the only liar in this room. ”

Nikolas clenched his jaw. “Don’t threaten me—you need me more than I need you.”

“A year ago, I agreed with you.” Britt folded her arms. “They don’t trust me, Nikolas. And they have every right to feel that way when you start off by calling me a liar who can’t be trusted—”

“Oh, is that how it’s going to be? You think you’re gonna disarm us by playing nice?” Luke got to his feet. “Listen here, Little Obrecht, I know what you did to my daughter—”

“What about what you did to my son?” Lucky’s quiet voice cut through the room and Luke fell quiet. Nikolas looked at his brother, startled at this reminder of Luke’s part in Jake’s accident. But Lucky wasn’t looking at him. He rose, facing Britt. “I don’t have to like or trust you, which I don’t. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have the same goal.” He looked at Nikolas. “And I still haven’t heard what’s so important that you needed me and Dad here. Dad could have handled it on his own — I had a lead—”

“You always have a lead,” Nikolas interrupted. “And it never pans out. When Luke told me Valentin was in Turkey, I knew this was our best shot to get what we needed. Plus, now we have access to more information than we’ll ever need—”

“I have access to it.” Lucky dropped back in his seat. “So you want me here because of the files.”

“Yes.” Nikolas took a deep breath. “I want to know what they know in Port Charles. And if possible, I want to know it first. I need to find Valentin before they do.”

“Obviously, I’ve been left out of a big part of this conversation,” Britt said. “You said the whole reason you needed to stay dead was to keep Valentin thinking he’s safe. But Jason Morgan is home now. Valentin has to know his time is up. Why aren’t you working with him and his brother? Don’t you all have the same goal?”

“You think anyone of them would work with you?” Luke demanded. “You don’t get to complain—”

“Dad, they barely work with us,” Lucky told him. He shrugged, looked back to his brother. “Look, you want Dad to look for Valentin, that’s fine. My focus is making sure every last trace of Helena and her plans, is erased. I need the files to know where to look. If Britt can help with that, great.” He met her eyes. “That sound good to you?”

“Yeah, that works for me.” Britt looked at Nikolas. “Unless you have other orders?”

“No. Both of you, the first priority is those files. Luke will focus on finding Valentin in Turkey, and I’ll continue to investigate the Cassadine properties around the world. I found that clinic in Russia, we’ll find others. We all have a role to play. Let’s play nice and make some progress.”

“Dismissed,” Lucky said. When Nikolas scowled at him, his brother just shrugged. “What? We were all thinking it. I’m going to get set up in my room upstairs. There’s two rooms on the your floor, right?” he asked Britt. “I’ll take the other.”

“Cowboy—”

“Dad, better go call your guy at the WSB. I’ll let you know when we have something to share.”

—

Luke watched Lucky follow Britt out of the room, and once he heard footsteps on the stairs, he closed the door and faced Nikolas. “You really needed her?”

“I know what she did to Lulu, Luke. But she has connections we don’t.” Nikolas sat at the desk. “And I’d rather have her where I can see her. I know you’re pissed that I’m here at all—”

“I liked you better in your little hole in Marseilles,” Luke muttered. He dragged a hand down his face and went to the window to look over the street. “Knowing you’re alive and saying nothing is one thing. Being in the room and working with you is another —”

“You’re free to go any time, Luke. I’m not forcing you to lie to my mother.”

“No, but I’m worried enough about what Valentin might do if he found out there’s still a threat to the Cassadine fortune.” Luke faced him. “He forged that will after trying to kill you backfired. He tried to take out Anna. He’s rattled, and my family is right in the crosshairs. As long as you’re dead and out of the picture, Valentin still believes he’s relatively safe. He’s not going to rock the boat any more than he has already. Anna was a panic move. I don’t expect him to be that stupid again, or for us to walk away unscathed.”

“Britt did her best last year, Luke. And if she’d been able to get Jason awake, we could have had him on our side then. We could have explained things—”

“You would have used him to kill Valentin,” Luke said, and Nikolas closed his mouth. “I’m not an idiot. You get to Morgan first, tell him Valentin is behind it all, and he’ll take out the threat. He takes all the risk, and you get all the reward if it goes right. ”

“That might have been one of the reasons I wanted Jason alive,” Nikolas said, slowly, “but it wasn’t all of it. I knew my grandmother had some kind of plans for Jake. Jason was insurance on that front. Another pair of eyes on him.”

Plans for Jake. Such a vague phrase. Had Nikolas known what those plans were? Luke had wondered but hadn’t let himself consider too deeply. Some secrets were better left in the dark. “You need to keep a close eye on Little Obrecht. Lucky doesn’t know her, but you do. She’s got a way of making herself into a victim. She played you more than once. Don’t let her screw with my boy.”

“Your boy can take care of himself—”

“Don’t you ever forget, Nikolas, you and I have a common goal,” Luke said. “But that doesn’t make us a team.”

Maslak, Istanbul: Lab

In the northern part of the city, in a building that looked like any other office tower, Helena Cassadine had hidden one of her many research facilities. It had taken Valentin’s men nearly two years to locate it —

But now Valentin stood inside of it with his hands on his mother’s research and on one of the Cassadine relatives that had been squirreled away for a rainy day. And yet, he was dissatisfied.

He stood in the small room, where the still body of Stefan Cassadine lay prone in the hospital bed, glaring at the vitals beeping on the monitor by his side.

“How much longer until he is awake?” Valentin demanded. “You told me—”

“I told you it would be some time.” Joseph Klein’s tone nearly sounded like a whine, and if he had another doctor to take this idiot’s place, Valentin would have done it already. “If Herr Cassadine would like to return to Port Charles to await further word—”

“No. If I go back now, I’ll only have to return when you’ve done your job.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he ignored it. “How much longer?” he repeated.

“We hope by the end of the week. We have so few case studies to utilize,” Klein reminded Valentin. “After all, only the twins have ever been woken successfully from these comas. And we don’t know how to interpret the formulas left behind by Dr. Scorpio—”

“What about what you used for Jason Morgan?” Valentin growled. “When you woke him on Faison’s orders last year?”

“Dr. Westbourne took those notes with her.” Klein scowled. “If we had those—”

“So get her—”

“We have lost track of her—”

“Imbeciles,” Valentin muttered, stalking out of the room and down the hall where he’d staked out a space for himself. He’d been too excited, he reminded himself. Too anxious to finally delve into the secrets his mother had kept. When he’d learned they’d found one of the pesky brothers who threatened Valentin’s inheritance — well, of course, he’d rushed to the scene.

He ought to have waited. To have taken a breath and called on his patience. But he found harder and harder these days to find it. At every turn he’d been betrayed. His own father had apparently sent Britt Westbourne to wake Jason Morgan. For what reason? Had Faison thought to challenge Valentin’s power? No, no. It couldn’t be. For his silence on the matter of paternity, Valentin had seen fit to keep Cesar Faison and Liesl Obrecht living in luxury. Though his father was not returning phone calls, he thought darkly. That needed to be dealt with.

Valentin fished out his cell and saw the missed calls from his wife back in Port Charles. He’d need a cover story for all of this, he thought. Something that would mollify Nina’s worries.

He’d think on that while he worked on the most important task — decrypting his mother’s files and locating anyone else who could challenge Valentin’s right to hold the Cassadine fortune. He’d earned every penny in his bank accounts, and he’d be damned if he lost it now.