October 10, 2019

This entry is part 21 of 31 in the All of Me

Now that we’re here,
It’s so far away
All the struggle we thought was in vain
All in the mistakes,
One life contained
They all finally start to go away
Now that we’re here it’s so far away
And I feel like I can face the day, and I can forgive
And I’m not ashamed to be the person that I am today
So Far Away, Staind


Friday, September 12, 2003

General Hospital: Kelly Lee’s Office

 Sarah’s surprise visit was able to keep Elizabeth from obsessing about her doctor’s appointment and while dinner with her sister and Jason was a bit awkward, it was drama free. They dropped Sarah back at the condo while they went to the penthouse for the night.

The next morning, they headed to the hospital where Kelly Lee, a doctor Monica had recommended from Buffalo, had been granted temporary privileges and office space to treat Elizabeth, at least for today. She knew she was receiving special treatment from her connection to the Quartermaines, but it was hard to argue with it when it benefited her and the possibility of keeping her child.

From the moment Elizabeth and Jason entered Kelly’s office at General Hospital, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Kelly was enthusiastic, warm, and most importantly — direct.

“I can understand your cardiologist’s concern,” Kelly said as she looked through Elizabeth’s chart. “You’ve had a difficult few months health wise. That being said…” She lifted her eyes to the nervous couple seated in front of her. “Your recent scans are clear for blood clots, your bloodwork is clean, and none of the tests you’ve had so far show any damage to your heart and lungs.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly and looked at Jason. He took her hand in his, squeezing it. “So, it’s not crazy to think I could carry this baby to term and be okay?”

“It’s not crazy, no,” Kelly told her. “But we also can’t ignore that Dr. Quartermaine is entirely correct. You are at an elevated risk for another embolism, and pregnancy does place stress on the body that you probably don’t really need right now. That being said, there are a lot of things we can do to monitor you and stay on top of any problems.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, bit her lip. “But I can—I can keep the baby.”

“I’m sure you’ve both been through a lot since you found out a few days ago,” Kelly said when Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at her. “Looking at your records, you had some scary close calls, Miss Webber.” She flicked her eyes to Jason. “And I’m sure that was difficult to watch. But you’re on blood thinners. Usually, we take you off those about ninety days after the embolism, but we’ll keep you on them for the duration of the pregnancy.”

She scribbled something else. “You’ll see me monthly—Dr. Quartermaine—the Chief of Staff—offered me a staff position so I won’t just be a visiting doctor. At home, however, I want you to monitor your pulse daily and your blood pressure once a week. Any deviation from the norm, you’re to come straight to the hospital so we can look into it.”

Elizabeth stared at her for a long moment. “But—but that’s it? That’s all we can do—”

“Well, normally, I’d remind you to take it easy. To avoid stress, but I understand you’re due to testify in a trial,” Kelly told her. “We’ll keep a close eye on you during that period, but honestly, Elizabeth, considering how fragile your situation was two months ago, you’ve gotten yourself back into decent enough shape that we can get you through this.”

She tipped her head. “But no unnecessary activity. Take it easy. Pregnancy can cause extreme fatigue, and you’re still rebuilding your stamina. If you feel tired, sit down. If you feel dizzy, lay down, call me. Try to avoid being alone for long stretches of time or make sure there’s always someone there to take your call.”

Kelly waited a long moment. “Are you a high-risk pregnancy? Yes. Do I think you need to worry? Not all the time. From your case file, it looks like the symptoms of your blood clots were masked by the drugs your ex-husband was giving you. But you’re aware of the symptoms now.” She leaned forward. “Follow my directions to the letter, and I honestly think you have an excellent chance of a smooth pregnancy.”

She tapped her pencil against the desk blotter. “Where we might have issues is delivery and directly after. We can discuss it as we get closer to your due date, but I might want to check you in ahead of time to monitor you closely in case a clot develops.”

They scheduled a follow-up appointment along with an ultrasound, and before Elizabeth knew it, the two of them were in the hallway of the hospital on their way to the elevator.

“I feel…” Elizabeth managed a laugh. She led Jason to a small alcove near the elevators and sat down on the sofa. “I feel so silly for all the drama and the crying, and the—” She shook her head. “She made it sound so easy.”

“Yeah, I have to admit, she’s not asking you to do anything much differently than you did after you left the hospital.” Jason took Elizabeth’s hand in his and held it palm side up, tracing the veins of her wrist. “And to be honest—”

“You already take my pulse at least once a day, if not more,” Elizabeth finished. “Yeah, I noticed.” She exhaled slowly. “I mean—we can—we can think about what’s next now. Because—I mean obviously we’re going forward with this.” She met his eyes. “Now that it’s—it’s safe. We can be happy. If you…”

“I am happy,” Jason told, softening his voice. “I was…afraid to be happy. I didn’t want to get used to the idea until we knew—”

“Until we knew,” she repeated when he stopped talking. She turned her hand back over and laced her fingers in his. “We’re having a baby.” Her smile spread until her cheeks nearly ached from it. “Maybe your mother—I mean, Monica—maybe she was right. Maybe this part is the miracle. Why we survived last summer.”

“You don’t have—you can call her my mother,” Jason told Elizabeth. “So, you said we can think about what’s next. We haven’t talked about it, but if your medical records are open to Ric—”

“He’ll know about the baby,” Elizabeth finished. She pressed her lips together. “Yeah, I talked to Bobbie about it, and I’d be insane not to worry about it. The miscarriage tipped Ric over the edge, so if he finds out I’m pregnant again—after what happened with that stuff in the papers…” She shook her head, her smile fading slightly. “I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s why I want—I want to move to the penthouse,” Jason told her. “You can do whatever you want to it, but as secure as the condo is—”

“The Towers are a fortress,” Elizabeth finished with a nod. “Yeah. We can do that.” At his surprised look, she shrugged. “I needed a place to get myself together. And the condo was great for that. And if it were just me, maybe we could discuss it further, but I remember how secure the penthouse was last year. All of that stuff you guys installed after that bomb got up to Sonny’s a few years ago and everything.”

She got to her feet and they started for the elevators. After she pressed the down button, Elizabeth said, “I also want to let Scott Baldwin know.” When Jason grimaced slightly, she continued, “I don’t want him to be blindsided if Ric finds out from my records. After he offered to make a deal when it would be better publicity for him to go to trial, I feel like I owe it to him to be fair.”

“Okay.” Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Whatever you need, that’s what we’ll do.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

 Carly checked her watch and scowled, tapping her foot nervously against the floor as she stared at a magazine. She just wanted Jason to call and tell her about the doctor’s appointment—she was worried about both of them if the doctor gave them bad news.

She didn’t know if she actually liked Elizabeth Webber, but after everything they’d been through together, the least Carly owed Jason and Elizabeth was civility and her support.

She eyed her husband, pouring yet another bourbon at the minibar. Since Sonny was determined to be a jackass—

Her phone rang and Carly almost fumbled it in her haste to open it, but—” Oh, hey, Mama. No, he didn’t call me yet. You either?”

Sonny turned to look at her, a questioning look in his eyes. She silently shook her head as Bobbie continued to talk. “Oh, man. I mean…you warned me, I guess. Yeah. Okay. We’ll deal with it. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. I’ll call you if I hear anything.”

Carly closed her phone, then pressed it to her forehead, silently counting to five before looking at her husband. “She was calling because she got a subpoena from Ric.”

Sonny grimaced but sighed. “That makes sense. She was there the day you were found and helped look—” He stared at her. “What?”

“She was also there when you had your breakdown, Sonny. And she didn’t tell Scott outright, but he knew enough that the judge decided it was Brady material—” When Sonny scowled, she hurried to add, “He would have been in trouble if he didn’t turn over whatever he knew about you—”

“Fucking Baldwin,” Sonny muttered. He threw back his bourbon. “So, your mother is just going to spill her guts? She could get in trouble for giving me that injection, you know? Why doesn’t she plead the Fifth?”

“No one who knows about that is going to tell anyone.” Carly pulled herself to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “What’s the big problem, Sonny? Even if Ric makes you testify about your breakdown, it doesn’t change anything—”

“If you would just let me take care of that little fucker, we wouldn’t have to worry about this!” Sonny roared. “And now my mental health is going to be on everyone’s lips! I’m gonna look even weaker than I already do!”

Carly rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, Sonny, is that what you’re worried about? Typical. You had a breakdown because I was gone. That just makes you sympathetic—”

“You think Anthony Zacchara is going to find me sympathetic?” Sonny demanded as he stalked towards her. “What about Hector Ruiz or Sammy Tagliatti? You think any one of them is going to think it’s no big deal that I was hallucinating my dead wife?”

She exhaled slowly. “We talked about this. You’re not touching Ric. Not before the trial—”

“You know if I get rid of that asshole DA, that would take care of this too,” Sonny muttered. “Get rid of Baldwin, and the case gets postponed. No trial. No deal.”

Carly’s blood felt frozen beneath her skin as she stared at her husband. “Are you—are you threatening the district—you’re not serious, are you? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You seem to forget who I am, Carly.” Sonny pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes bulging with fury. “I am fucking Sonny Corinthos and no one is going to make me look weak. The only reason Ric is still alive is—” He shook his head and turned away from her.

Pressure built behind her eyes as she struggled to form the next words. “Because Jason refused to do anything. And you don’t have the connections to do it without him.” She fisted her hands at her side. “What, did Jason tell everyone who works under you to leave Ric alone? Did you already try to give the order, Sonny? After everything we talked about—did you try to have Ric killed?”

Sonny didn’t answer her and just poured himself another drink.

“If you touch Scott Baldwin, if you go after Ric, Sonny, after everything we’ve talked about—everything I’ve been through—” Tears slid down her cheek. “That’s it. I’m gone. We’re done.”

He turned back to look at her. “Well, maybe that would be for the best,” he said simply.

Her heart pounding, she nodded. “Yeah, maybe it is. I’ll have Leticia pack Michael up. We’ll go to my mother’s.”

And when Sonny didn’t say anything else, Carly went upstairs and started to pack.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Taggert had planned to visit Chicago to interview Theresa Lopez, the victim of the April 1999 attack, but he’d gotten lucky — she had flown in for her grandmother’s birthday and agreed to talk to him. Even better, he’d finally managed to convince all three victims from earlier that year to talk to him as well. Provided they met out in the open, away from the PCPD, and not in their own homes.

He spoke to Theresa first. She was no more than five foot three, maybe a hundred and ten pounds with brown eyes and pale skin. In the photos taken in the hospital four years earlier, her had been a deep chestnut brown, worn long with a tendency to curl.

Her attacker, the report read, had wrapped that hair around his first. Smelled it. Commented on it.

It was now short, in what his ex-girlfriend Hannah Scott had called a pixie cut, he remembered. And ash blonde.

He couldn’t blame her.

“Did you find him?” she asked flatly after she took a seat across the table from him, a large flowered purse held in her lap, her arms wrapped around it as if she could use it as a weapon any moment.

“No,” Taggert admitted. “But we have a lead—”

“Great. A lead,” she repeated, those eyes flashing. “You brought this back because maybe—”

“We’ve linked your case to others,” Taggert cut in as gently as possible. “Your kit was processed and came back with a match to a few other open cases. There’s no hit in the national database, but if his profile is ever put in there, we’ll be able to match it. But we’re actively pursuing him, Ms. Lopez.”

Her shoulders deflated and she looked away. “They didn’t test it back then. No suspect. It made no damn sense to me, you know? How the hell do you get a suspect without—” She shook her head. “And the first cop was an ass. He blamed me.”

As that first cop had been that lazy son of a bitch Vinnie Esposito, this didn’t surprise him in the slightest. “You don’t need this from me, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, well thousands of dollars in therapy later,” she muttered. She huffed, looked at him. “What do you need from me?”

Taggert hesitated. “I need to take your statement. The one we have is a bit…” Incomplete. Half-assed. “There are questions you weren’t asked. Some ground I wanted to cover.”

“Because there’s this link, you said.” Theresa nodded.

She’d gone to the movies with a friend, she told him. A girl friend, so they’d met there and parted ways. She didn’t have a car then and the theater wasn’t far from her house. If she cut across Port Charles Park, she could be home in ten minutes.

“But I tripped over a stupid rock,” Theresa sighed. “Or a crack in the pavement. I don’t remember now. My sneaker was untied, so I stopped at the fountain.”

“Which one?”

“The one on the north side of the park, closer to the movie theater. It wasn’t really cold. One of the first nights it wasn’t freezing, so I only had a windbreaker on. I sat on the bench, before I could tie my shoe…” Theresa looked away. “He grabbed me. I kicked, tried to scream. I never did see that sneaker again. Flew right off my foot.”

It was sitting in an evidence bag, found soaking wet in the fountain when the crime scene investigators had swept the scene, but Taggert didn’t tell her that.

“He threw me to the ground,” Theresa said, her voice as flat and lifeless. “And he hit me. Hard in the face. And he grabbed my head, slammed it against the ground. I—I saw stars for a minute and by the time I could breathe—he’d flipped me on my stomach and handcuffed me.”

Taggert’s pencil slipped and he looked up. “Handcuffed.”

“Easier to hold me down when I can’t use my hands.” Theresa pressed her lips together. “I guess. I don’t know. He put me on my back. God, my fucking hands hurt. I was terrified, but all I could think was how tight the cuffs were. I didn’t—I didn’t tell that other cop that. I didn’t remember it.”

“It’s okay—”

“I didn’t remember most of it,” she admitted. “Not until later. When my parents made me go to therapy after I tried to kill myself the first time.”  She picked up the glass of water, her hands shaking a little. “But now it’s all I can remember. How much my hands hurt, how my shoulders felt like the muscles were being ripped into two. I guess it distracted me, because the next thing I knew, my jeans were off, and—”

Her voice broke. She took a deep breath. A huge gulp of water. Taggert said nothing, just sat there. Let her do it in her own way.

“He jammed himself inside me, and God it, hurt so fucking much. I wasn’t a virgin, I’d had one boyfriend steady since I was a freshman. Was having sex regularly. I tell you that because I know how it’s supposed to feel—”

“Theresa—”

Her eyes fastened on his. “It’s the only way I got through it.  I cried to my boyfriend in the hospital. I’d felt like I cheated on him, and God, he just—he never said a word against me. I pushed him away. Refused to see him, and he stuck. We’re still together.” She flattened her hand on the table. And now he saw a tiny diamond glinting. “Maybe we wouldn’t have made it if this happened, but he stuck with me through this and I guess once you go through the worst thing and get through the other side, all the other drama seems like bullshit.”

She exhaled slowly. “I don’t know how long it took. It felt like forever. And it felt like a few seconds. He had his hand in my hair the whole time. Talked about how nice it smelled, but it wasn’t the best. It wasn’t right,” she said slowly. “That’s what he said.  He finished, hit me a few more times—and the last time, he hit me so hard, I blacked out. That’s why it got reported. Because I was unconscious, and someone found me. I don’t know if I would have called anyone, and after I met Officer Fuckface, I didn’t want to keep going. Another guy came later. Garcia or something. He was nicer, but I couldn’t—after the first one, I just didn’t want to talk to the PCPD anymore.”

Taggert hesitated. “I’m sorry—”

“He told me that maybe I shouldn’t walk at night,” Theresa said flatly. “Like I’m not a fucking taxpayer. Like it’s my fault some asshole needed to prove something to himself. But I didn’t get angry then. I blamed myself. And after the first six months, I took a bunch of pills and tried to make it stop. But my mom found me and committed me to the psych ward. Told me I had to do something. My boyfriend cried. My dad cried.”

She looked at her hands. “I’d never seen either of them do that and I guess I realized what it would do to them. Even if my pain stopped, theirs would just start. And I didn’t want that. So, I went to therapy. And I got through it.

“Did any of that help?” Theresa asked after a long moment.

“Yeah.” Taggert set his pen down. “I’m sorry that the first cop you talked to was an asshole.  I can’t make excuses for him. And I wish I could promise you I’ll get him. That’s not a guarantee I can make.”

“I guess not.”

“But this case is all I’m working on,” he continued. “And I’m not going to give up until there’s nothing left to do.”

“You said there were others,” Theresa said. “How many?”

“Six,” he admitted. “One before you. Another after you. And then nothing until four this year.”

“Four this year.” She exhaled slowly. “He’s still…he’s still out there.”

“Yeah. But…” He looked at her hair. “Keep the blonde hair. Keep it short.”

“All long-haired brunettes.” Theresa nodded. “I was thinking about growing it out for the wedding next year, but I think I’ll go get my roots touched up.”

She left then, and a half hour later, Dana Watson arrived. She was only twenty-one and according to the photos, in February, she’d been a brunette with long, curly hair.

It was now a chin-length bob, worn stick straight and dyed a firetruck red. And her story was similar to Theresa Lopez. Identical, even, Taggert thought as he considered it later. On her way home from the movies. Had stopped by the angel fountain to check the time on her cell phone because she’d forgotten to put on her watch that morning.

Grabbed. Handcuffed. Hit. Her attacker had also commented on her hair. Had also smelled it. Said it wasn’t right. Had hit her hard enough to knock her unconscious.

Her story, Taggert thought later at his desk at the station, was all but identical to all the other statements. After Theresa and Dana, he’d also met with Renee and Wendy. He’d talked to Veronica Logan on the phone earlier that morning, the last victim from the first round of attacks.

All of them had described stopping at a fountain in the park, being grabbed. Handcuffed, then hit. The attacker had smelled their hair—

And then hit them hard enough to cause unconsciousness when it didn’t smell right.

While Elizabeth’s statement hadn’t been very detailed—Taggert knew she hadn’t remembered a lot of the attack during that first interview—he knew her case was different. She’d walked away from her attack and didn’t report being hit in the face at all.

He wondered, with therapy and the passage of time, if she’d remember any comments about her hair or if she’d been handcuffed. Had that detail come back to her like it had for Theresa?

Six young women with long brown hair had been attacked after her and had been told their hair wasn’t right. They’d been beaten more. Knocked unconscious for someone else to find. It was possible Elizabeth had just been his first victim, someone who whet the appetite for more brutality and sadism, but there was also the distinct possibility that somehow…

Elizabeth had been the trigger, the victim he kept searching out, the attack he kept trying to recreate.

Taggert exhaled slowly and pushed the files away. He’d put it off long enough, but it was time to bring Elizabeth into the investigation.

Port Charles Airport: Arrivals Hall

Kelsey exhaled slowly as she studied the notes Lucky had passed her when they’d left work that night, heading to the airport. She wasn’t nervous.

Not even a little bit.

She’d already met his aunt and his sister. They liked her. Lucky got along with her mother and hadn’t even scowled at Scott Baldwin the night she’d dragged him to dinner with her boss.

Two months into their relationship, everything was going great. They clicked intellectually, he was sexy as hell, great in bed, funny—

Outside of a dormant blood feud with some supervillain and a bout of brainwashing, Lucky Spencer was basically perfect.

So, what the hell was her problem?

Lucky reached over and put a hand on her knee. Kelsey scowled down at it—she hadn’t even realized it was bouncing up and down and she restlessly tapped her foot. “I’m not nervous.”

“Right.”

“I met your aunt.”

“I know.”

“And your sister is crazy. I think she asked me a thousand questions and if she weren’t only eighteen, I’d be worried she was running a background check. But she likes me.”

“So does my aunt.”

Kelsey narrowed her eyes at his easy tone. “I’m not nervous. He’s just your brother.” She huffed. “A Russian prince who has more money than God, a villainous grandmother, and a castle in the middle of the lake. Completely normal.”

“He is normal.” Lucky reached for her hand, covered it with his. “He used to have a giant stick up his ass, but we yanked it out years ago.”

She laughed, rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, that’s a weird thing for brothers to do, but whatever.” She glanced back up at the arrivals board. The private flight from London had landed, which meant the prince was somewhere in Customs. “I guess you read over Taggert’s interview notes from today.”

“Yeah.” Lucky took them back from her. “He’s going to talk to Elizabeth tomorrow. I guess he wants to give her one more night before—”

“All of these women—” Kelsey shook her head. “And the way they talked about the responding officer—Vinnie’s not just lazy, Lucky. He’s a misogynistic asshole who has no business being anywhere near rape victims. And apparently, he was in Special Victims while he was in Buffalo. How many women did he chase away? Did he scare? Blame?”

“Yeah. I know. I read the notes from Theresa’s interview. She attempted suicide six months later. With pills. Just like Brooke.” Lucky was quiet for a long moment. “We put them all through this again, but what did we even learn? Nothing.”

“Hey. Don’t count the statements out yet. We’ll get Elizabeth to come in, do her own follow-up, and then we’ll look at all the cases together. So much about them is the same, you know? But where they’re different—” She touched his arm. “That’s how we’re going to get him. He’s not a mastermind, Lucky. He’s just a sick, sadistic asshole. We know him now.”

“Yeah. Well, we’ll see.” Lucky gestured as a man with dark hair walked through the door of the arrival hall, a few men behind him pushing a baggage cart. “Come meet my brother.”

Kelsey slid her files into her bag and put away dark thoughts of serial rapists. She rose to extend a hand to Nikolas Cassadine, who smiled warmly at her and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“You, as well.” Nikolas released her hand, then rested it on his brother’s shoulder with a teasing grin. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucky rolled his eyes but embraced his brother. “You still up for dinner or do you want to head home to get some sleep?”

“I slept on the plane, and I’m looking forward to getting to know Kelsey. You’ve managed to win over our sister, Miss Joyce,” Nikolas said as he took Kelsey’s arm in his. “Do you know hard it is to impress Lesly Lu Spencer?”

“Hopefully harder than it is to impress a Russian prince,” Kelsey offered as they started out of airport. “But I guess we’ll find out.”

PCPD: Conference Room

 Scott leaned back in the chair and grimaced. “Any idea why Elizabeth wanted to meet with the both of us?” he asked Taggert as the lieutenant took his seat. “You think she knows about her case?”

“I don’t know,” Taggert said, tossing a folder on the table. “Spencer swears up and down that he didn’t tell her—that he’s not in any hurry to bring that up for her either. Maybe it’s about the Lansing case.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’s changed her mind about not wanting to go to trial.”

Scott’s grimace deepened. “I could live with that, but—”

The door opened then, and another officer stuck his head in the door. “Miss Webber is here. You ready for her?”

“Yeah, let her in.” Both Scott and Taggert stood as Elizabeth entered in, one of her hands clutching the strap of her purse at the shoulder. “Elizabeth, what’s on your mind?” Scott asked as he gestured for her to take a seat.

“Oh. Well…” Elizabeth sat and waited for them both to retake their seats. “I wanted you both to be the first—well, the first outside of my friends and family to know—because I don’t want either of you to be surprised if it ends up in my medical reports for the trial.” She looked at Scott. “I’m pregnant.”

There was a long beat of silence as Scott digested that news, then looked at Taggert who looked very uncomfortable. “Ah—”

“My doctors—Monica and the OB I’m seeing—they’re going to do what they can to keep it from being obvious. Monica ran some tests at my checkup which gave the positive result, but while she’s consulting with my OB, her name never appears in the file.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I don’t think this counts as something you’d have to tell Ric, right?”

“Ah…” Scott pressed his lips together, still a little thrown. “Ah, no. I don’t think so. I mean, I have to tell him anything that might be evidence of his innocence.” He furrowed his brow. “Maybe if it discredits a witness or contradicts them, but I’ve got a lot of leeway with discretion.” He looked at Taggert. “Now, Ric would claim it’s evidence of an affair, am I right?”

“Yeah, probably.” Taggert cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly in his seat. “But I filed a report on the assault charges at the time. It was, and remains, my official opinion that the Sun was fed a false story in order to shake up the case. That’s the official PCPD statement as well, and Capelli was reprimanded for it.”

He looked at Elizabeth. “Are…are you okay? I mean, it’s not too soon?”

“My OB is optimistic that as long as I try to avoid stress and monitor my vitals I should be okay, but I was worried that Ric might get this information as part of my medical records, and I wanted you to be prepared for it, Mr. Baldwin.”

“Well, I appreciate that, Elizabeth. Like I said, there are a couple of things I’m being forced to hand over to Lansing—because he’s specifically requested it. If, as you say, the breadcrumbs are in your file and he doesn’t notice it, then, well…” Scott shrugged. “Not my problem, right?”

Elizabeth visibly relaxed, her shoulder slumping. “Thank you. I—I’ll be relocating to the Towers, though, starting this weekend. With Ric out on bail, even with the protective order, we’re both worried what he might do if he does figure out I’m pregnant.”

“After what he did when he just thought you were having an affair, I think that’s probably a smart move.”

Elizabeth thanked them again, then left. Scott turned to Taggert and just stared at him, the cop looking down almost blindly at the table.

“Avoid stress,” Scott repeated. “She’s supposed to avoid stress at the same time I’m prepping her to testify against a man who tried to kill her and—” He scowled, thinking back to the therapy notes he’d read. He knew more about Elizabeth Webber’s psyche than he ever needed to know anyone’s. “You’re investigating her rape which was bungled by the cops—”

“It’s more than that,” Taggert said with a sigh. “I interviewed the last of the previous victims today and started to really put together a picture of this guy. Scott, I don’t think Elizabeth is just the first known victim—she might be the first victim. The trigger victim. I think this guy knows her.”

“Fuck me.” Scott scrubbed his hands over his face. “Tell me everything.”

October 7, 2019

This entry is part 20 of 31 in the All of Me

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
Mad World, Gary Jules


Wednesday, September 10, 2003

PCPD: Squad Room

Vinnie shook his head vehemently as he read through the report Taggert had written, linking together the first trio of cases. “No way in hell,” he muttered as he flipped through the statements. “No way I could have made the connection. They were months, years apart. The profiles didn’t match—”

Taggert sighed, rubbed his eyes. “No one is blaming you for not linking these,” he told the younger man, patiently. It was a demoralizing feeling to know that you had failed the people you were supposed to protect, even when you were doing your best to do the job. “You were a patrol officer when the Webber and Lopez cases happened—”

“I—” Vinnie exhaled slowly. “But I should have seen it, I guess. All in the park. All near a fountain.” He shifted at his desk, uncomfortable. “And there’s DNA?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think we’d get hits on all the cases, but maybe this asshole is either dumb as a rock or too cocky that we won’t catch him.” Taggert shrugged. “After five years, he’s probably just used to getting away with it. That’s why he’s not changing his signature.”

“Signature?” Vinnie frowned. “What, the fountain?”

“He’s hit all four fountains almost twice. The only one he hasn’t gone after again is the Martin Memorial for some reason.” Taggert rubbed his chin.

“Well it wasn’t there before 2001.” Vinnie furrowed his brow. “Yeah — I think they built it after I moved to Buffalo. I remember coming home that summer and reading about it.”

“So, he hasn’t gotten around to it.” Taggert made a notation to double check that information. “Well, we got uniforms all over the park now. He won’t be able to do this crap again.”

Vinnie was quiet for a long moment. “I thought they caught the guy in the Webber case,” he said finally. “What’s the deal with that?”

“It’s a long story,” Taggert replied, leaving it at that. “Look, no one blames you—”

“You don’t blame me, maybe, but I bet when this hits the papers, the mayor is going to come for my ass. Ashton is kicking him up and down the street in the polls now.” Vinnie shook his head. “No, they’re going to make me the bad guy.”

“Maybe,” Taggert allowed, but he privately agreed. Floyd was nothing if not selfish and conniving. He’d already sacrificed innocent women to maintain his public profile. What were the odds a lazy, idiot cop like Vinnie would escape the pressure? “Look, I’ll do what I can. You’re not on this case officially which should smooth a lot of feathers. If they think you screwed up before, we’ll just remind them what you were working with. An understaffed unit without much of a budget for lab work.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time to think about a transfer,” Vinnie muttered. “I never should have come back to Port Charles. What a goddamn waste of my time.”

General Hospital: Monica’s Office

Monica was both pleased and a little bit worried when her receptionist reported that her son was there to see her. In the months since Carly’s kidnapping and Elizabeth’s illness, she was happy that her relationship with Jason had taken a more positive turn but that didn’t mean he dropped in for no reason at all.

She’d been thinking about Jason and Elizabeth since Elizabeth’s appointment a few days earlier, worrying over them. She’d even spent some time with Lila and Emily as they worried together. She worried Elizabeth might make a decision she’d regret later—or that this might lead to a setback and another blood clot.

There was only so much Monica could control with medical treatments. So much of medicine was still up to the individual and the universe.

“Jason, hello. I wasn’t expecting you.” She embraced him lightly and quickly, which he allowed, and she savored. “I don’t have to guess why you’re here.”

“I know you can’t tell me anything about her case,” Jason told her as they sat on the small sofa in the corner of her office. “I guess…” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m here, not really.” He looked at her. “You were honest with me when Elizabeth was in the hospital. You told me it’d be a miracle if she survived after the cardiac arrest.”

“We were lucky,” Monica admitted. “I’ve had other patients under similar circumstances that didn’t make it.” She pursed her lips. “I hate telling you how much of this is a crap shoot, Jason. The OB/GYN she’s seeing Friday will hopefully have some more concrete information for you.”

“If she were anyone else,” Jason said slowly, as he stared down at his hands. “Would you recommend going through with the pregnancy?”

Monica bit her lip. “It’s not my position to say one way or the other, Jason. Have you and Elizabeth talked about this?”

“Yeah.” He sat back and scrubbed his face with his hands. “She brought up not having the baby, but—I know this is something she wants. It’s something I want. Just…not like this. Not when we have to think about what it might cost us.”

“Jason—”

He shook his head. “But I know I’ve come down too hard on making safe choices, and she doesn’t want to live like that. Maybe everything will be fine.”

“And it might very well be, Jason. She’ll have the best medical care money can offer,” Monica reminded him. “Access to the best doctors in the state, if not the country. Any medicine she needs. Any scans. Weekly visits if that’s what Dr. Lee recommends. I know you’re worried. Jason—” She touched his forearm, waiting until he turned to look at her. “I know what it was like to wait that night in the hospital. To watch her struggle for breath and her heart stop in front of you. I’ve been through it with your father and his heart problems. With Edward and his.”

“All the money in the world doesn’t make her body stronger,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t change the fact that she was drugged for months, had a miscarriage, an overdose, an embolism, cardiac arrest—Monica, is she really strong enough to do this?”

“I can tell you that her scans are clear for blood clots,” Monica said. “That while I worry about long term organ problems, we haven’t detected any damage to either her heart or her lungs. That doesn’t mean they’re in perfect condition, but Elizabeth recovered from all of that as well as anyone could after two months.”

Jason didn’t say anything, so Monica continued. “I understand being terrified for the person you love. Being afraid to hope for the best because you’re not used to the universe being on your side.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason took a deep breath. “She said we got a miracle this summer. When she didn’t die. And she’s afraid—I’m afraid that she’s right. How many miracles do we get? How many times does she get to risk her life without—”

“There’s another way of looking at what happened this summer,” Monica told him. “I have to believe that maybe Elizabeth was spared—if she fought back because this is what was supposed to happen. Maybe this baby—this child neither of you planned but both of you want—maybe this is the miracle you were waiting for.”

“I don’t know if I can believe that. If I can…” Jason shook his head, falling silent. “But that’s the kind of thing that Elizabeth could believe. I don’t really have dreams, not like she does. She’s always been able to look at things and see the good in them.”

“I will be here for you any time you want to worry without making Elizabeth upset,” Monica offered. “And you know that your grandmother and sister will be here for you both. I hope for the best after your doctor’s appointment, Jason, I really do. I want to see you happy—I want you to both be happy.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

“I feel like I haven’t done anything except worry and think about this,” Elizabeth said with a sigh as Georgie served her and Bobbie their lunches.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Bobbie offered as Georgie went back inside. “We can talk about something else. Anything else.”

“Like what?” Elizabeth muttered, stabbing at her salad. “The mayoral race? Where poor Brooke Lynn gets dragged through the mud every five minutes by Floyd and his team?” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not good company today.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to be any kind of company for me,” Bobbie told her. “We can just sit here and eat quietly. We can talk about television. Bad music.”

Elizabeth set her fork down and looked at Bobbie. “The thing is that I think I know what I want to do. I’m just…I’m scared that this doctor will tell me something that will make me change my mind or that I’ll look at Jason and how worried he is—” She bit her lip.

Bobbie moved to the seat directly next to Elizabeth so she could take the younger woman’s hand in hers. “You have to do what’s right for you. And that’s such a useless thing to say because how do you even know what’s right for you?”

“I just…I’m scared of the risks, but part of me is…I’m really happy. Losing the baby in May—even with everything I know about how the drugs Ric gave me might have hurt her, even knowing it was Ric’s child—” Her voice was tight as she tried to force the words out. “I wanted that baby more than I ever thought I would. And now, to have another chance at being a mother, to create a family with Jason—this is everything I ever wanted in my life. And I can’t stand the idea that Ric might take this away from me, too.”

“Sweetheart—”

“I hate that he’s still in my life. Even when he’s not actually here in Port Charles, even when I’m not thinking about the trial, the reason I don’t get to be excited about being a mother is because he stole it from me. I can’t let him keep running my life.”

“That’s true,” Bobbie said slowly, “but—”

“I just want Jason to be happy, too. I don’t want him to spend the next eight months with that look on his face—I want him to be excited—” Elizabeth shook her head and shoved her plate away, her appetite disappearing. “Everything about our life together so far has been haunted by Ric. We couldn’t even have sex without an oxygen mask nearby—’” She broke off, flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry that this is happening,” Bobbie told her. “And you’re not wrong to worry that it will be difficult for Jason to see this as a blessing. But you’re seeing the doctor on Friday. And she might give you guys something more concrete to hold on to. You’re both getting yourselves so worried and caught up in something that might not end up being that serious.”

“I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t seem to work.” She sighed. “And if we do go through with it, of course, I’m worried about what happens with the trial. I mean, Ric’s kept away from us, but—” She met Bobbie’s eyes. “He went insane after I lost the baby. I mean, he was already pretty far gone before that. I know that now. But he kidnapped Carly to get to her baby. He wanted to replace our child with hers. And now…”

“And now you’re pregnant.” Bobbie sat back in her chair. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Can I even keep this from him? It doesn’t feel like it’s relevant, but maybe…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “It’s just one more thing Ric is controlling, and I hate it. I should…if I go through with it and keep the baby, I should warn Scott. But then is he honor bound to turn it over?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Bobbie admitted. “But let’s take this one step at a time and get you through this appointment. We can cross all those bridges after that. And you know you’re not going through this alone. You or Jason. I’m here for you. Emily. Monica. I’m sure Lila. And Edward—” Bobbie pursed her lips. “Well, we’ll see what works out. Oh!” Bobbie snapped her fingers. “And I completely forgot — Nikolas is coming home on Friday.”

“Oh?” Elizabeth managed a smile. “I knew he was planning it soon, but that was more quickly than I expected. What about the rest of the family? Is Laura coming home, too?”

“Laura will be transferred to Shadybrooke in another month,” Bobbie said, “but Nikolas seems to think she’ll be on outpatient treatment soon. She might even be home by Thanksgiving.”

“Well, that’s good news. I know how hard it’s been for your family since she got sick.” Elizabeth grimaced as her phone rang. “One second.” She opened the phone and her scowl deepened. “Sarah. Hey—really? Okay. Okay. Sure. Yeah, I—I’ll figure something out.”

After the brief conversation, Elizabeth tossed her phone in her purse. “First time I’ve heard from her since Gram died.”

“What did she want?” Bobbie asked as Elizabeth started to search for her wallet. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. She’s interviewing for a position at Mercy tomorrow and her hotel reservation got lost.” She managed a humorless smile. “She wanted to know if she could stay with me.”

“With you?” Bobbie repeated. “That’s…”

Not something I need right now. The idea of my sister in the same city as me, even if it’s across town—” Elizabeth tossed some bills down. “Maybe Jason and I can avoid her, and she can stay at my place while we go to the penthouse or something.”

“Do you have to go take care of it now?”

“Yeah, I have to give her name to the guards in the front lobby, so they’ll let her in. She’s at the airport now.” Elizabeth got to her feet. “I’m…I don’t know how much she knows about what’s going on, so if you see her—”

“I won’t say a word.” Bobbie hugged her. “Good luck. And call me tomorrow.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac stared down at the report Taggert had prepared, including the lab reports and the more detailed statements from the victims who had agreed to be re-interviewed.

It was like a shot to the gut to realize just how badly he had handled the sexual assault cases during his tenure—how incredibly he had failed the women he had sworn to protect.

“Mac, I need to understand,” Taggert said, drawing his attention up to look at his lieutenant seated across from him. “I need to understand what happened with Elizabeth Webber’s case. Because she’s going to ask, and I can’t—” He shook his head. “I won’t lie to her. I won’t pretend that she wasn’t lied to. We told her that the dress came back negative.”

Mac exhaled slowly. “You have to understand that I honestly thought Tom Baker was the guy. I believed her—I still believe—that he said something to her, that he did something that convinced Elizabeth that he had confessed. I believed her.”

“I did, too,” Taggert admitted. “I went back and looked at the statement — based on her own words, she said it first. And he ran with it. He repeated a phrase her rapist had used—and Elizabeth accused him of being the guy. I think he ran with it to control the situation. To get her locked up so he could escape.” He rubbed his head. “Knowing now that he’s been excluded, that makes sense. But then—I wanted to believe it was him, too. Because I wanted that nightmare to be over.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t explain what you did with the rape kit—”

“Floyd was concerned that Baker’s case would drag on,” Mac cut in with a weary sigh. “Edward Quartermaine was putting all kinds of pressure on him because of Emily’s involvement, and when I told him that we wouldn’t be able to fast-track the trial because of the rape investigation—because it would take six weeks, maybe more to get those results back—he hit the roof.”

“He wasn’t even up for election,” Taggert said, his lips curling in disgust. “Why the hell—”

“Because he was, and remains, terrified of pissing off the Quartermaines. He wants me to feed the department to the wolves and blame my officers for this rape case—he’s going to want Vinnie’s head on a stick so he can parade it around.” Mac rubbed his eyes. “But I thought Baker was the guy. And I thought—well, maybe I can spare her the trial. I can make it so this is easier for Elizabeth. She doesn’t have to go up and confront him. He was gonna go down for twenty-five years on the kidnapping charges. So, I told you I’d take care of the kit but that we were going to mark it for cold storage.”

Taggert shook his head. “That doesn’t explain—”

“At the trial, after Elizabeth accused Baker in open court—Edward Quartermaine made another call. He hadn’t known the rape case was part of this. Had no idea what had happened to Elizabeth. He wanted Floyd to do something to help her. To make it better.”

“So why—”

“Because of the mistrial. We were lucky to get that quick date in December. The next opening wasn’t until March — and a rape investigation might not have been done by then. Floyd did not want this case dragging through the spring and into the election season. He wanted me to make it go away. And by then, Dara Jensen was worried that she might not be able to convict him at a second trial. She wanted to make a deal.”

“So why falsify the lab report?” Taggert demanded. “Why bury her damn case, Mac?”

“Because Floyd needed the Quartermaines off his back.” Mac shook his head. “Making it look like that case could never get off the ground. Baker goes to jail for five to fifteen years and we give Edward Quartermaine the news that there simply wasn’t enough evidence to go after him on the rape. The report was supposed to back that up if anyone looked. And…”

“You made sure no one looked.” Taggert glared at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? You hid her file, you went out of your way—”

“I thought Baker was the guy. I was trying to protect her and Emily. And my job, yeah.” Mac’s stomach twisted. “Because I had a family, too. And Floyd threatened to fire me. I put it away. I had to. And then Sonny Corinthos was back, and the mob wars started again—I got distracted. The garage fire. The Cassadine crap.”

“You threw her away, Mac. You and Floyd. And you made me part of it.” Taggert shook his head. “Two more women were raped after Elizabeth. Then four more this year. All of that we could have stopped—”

“Could we have?” Mac demanded. “Doesn’t change the fact that we didn’t have the money to change the policy on testing rape kits. Didn’t change the fact that senior officers flee this town like their asses are on fire. That second part is on me—I’ll admit it. The PCPD isn’t such a great place to work. But I did the best I could—”

“Yeah, well, your best isn’t good enough.” Taggert’s mouth twisted as he got to his feet. “Six women were traumatized because you wanted to keep your job.” He raised his brows. “But you won’t have to worry about that for too long, will you, Mac? Latest polls show that Ned Ashton is going to clean Floyd’s clock in two months.”

“And until then, you still work for me,” Mac reminded him, getting to his feet. “I made mistakes. I’m not perfect. But don’t pretend that you’re any better than me. We’ve all been selfish. We’ve all ignored the oath we swore—so how about you stop standing in judgment of me and go do your damn job.”

Elizabeth’s Condo: Living Room

Sarah had left Port Charles the year before to take up a residency program in Los Angeles, and she and Elizabeth had barely stayed in touch. A few phone calls around the time their grandmother had died—mostly Sarah making her excuses for not being able to make it and sending her bank account information so that Elizabeth could transfer her inheritance.

She met her sister in the lobby of the building, finding Sarah eying the men behind the desk with an air of suspicion. “Sarah, uh, hey.”

Awkwardly, they embraced, then Elizabeth led her to the elevators. “What brings you back to Port Charles?” she asked as they stepped into the car.

“Oh. Well, after Gram died, I felt bad about not being around more,” Sarah offered, with a shrug. “I don’t want to work at General Hospital—too much pressure to live up to Gramps and Dad, I think. But Mercy offered a fellowship.” She glanced at her sister. “Last time I was here, you were living in that rat trap on the docks. This is an upgrade.”

“Yeah, Nikolas helped me find it,” Elizabeth said, as the doors slid open and they started down the hall. “I only have the one bedroom, so you can stay here tonight. Jason and I are going to his place.”

“Jason?” Sarah repeated. She waited as Elizabeth unlocked her door. “You guys got back together?” She set her overnight bag on the sofa and started to walk around the room, checking inside the bathroom before heading for the kitchen. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as her sister inspected her apartment like it was a goddamn hotel room.

Sarah would never change, and in a lot of ways, there was a comfort in knowing that.

“Something like that,” Elizabeth said as she took her own overnight bag out of her closet and started to toss some things into it, from both her drawers and closet as well as Jason’s drawer.

“I knew you got married and you were separated—is that someone else? Steven didn’t know the details.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “But that last part didn’t sound like you.” She sat on the side of the bed, then frowned. She tugged on a piece of the plastic tubing that connected the mask to the oxygen mask. “What is this?”

Elizabeth sighed, wishing she’d had advance notice of her sister’s visit so she could have packed in advance. She took both pieces from her sister and tucked into the bag. “I got sick this summer—”

“Elizabeth—” Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, and just looked at her with those sad eyes Elizabeth remembered all too well. “I know we’re not close, but why didn’t you—”

“I couldn’t.” Elizabeth sighed. “I had a pulmonary embolism and went into cardiac arrest. Sometimes I have trouble breathing, but it’s mostly—it’s a long story, Sarah. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Cardiac—” Sarah’s face was pale as she pressed her fingers to her lips. “Jesus, Liz. Are you serious?”

“Yes, but I really am okay now.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “Look, yes, I got pregnant and married the father. He turned out to be…not a great guy on a lot of levels, okay? I lost the baby, and then later, I found out he was drugging me with birth control pills to keep me from getting pregnant again. That’s how I got the embolism. It was rough for a while, but I got better, and I’m okay now. I also filed for divorce. Jason and I got back together because after all of that, the reasons we were apart seemed incredibly stupid.”

Sarah blinked at her, then shook her head. “That can’t be all of it, Elizabeth. Something like that—why didn’t Nikolas or Lucky call me? Why didn’t Emily?”

“Because they didn’t. It’s—” Elizabeth met her sister’s eyes. “It’s really not something I want to go into right now, but if you end up coming back to Port Charles — if you take the job at Mercy, then we can get into it. Okay? You’re only in town for a night. Do you want to get dinner? Jason and I were going to go to Eli’s.”

“Okay. If Jason wouldn’t mind me tagging along.” Sarah folded her arms, looked away. “I should have come home for Gram. I should have been here for you—for her. I just—it’s hard to be here and not at the house. To know she and Gramps are both gone—it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be. But I should have been a better sister to you.”

“Well, as I learned this summer,” Elizabeth said after a long moment, “it’s never too late. C’mon. Jason and I are meeting at the restaurant.”

“Thank you for letting me stay on such short notice,” Sarah told her as the sisters headed for the doorway. “Really. I knew I could count on you.” She smiled, a bit of bitterness underneath it. “And I can’t say that about pretty much anything else.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Sarah—”

“I’m only in town for one night,” Sarah reminded her. “We’ll get into it if I move back home. Let’s go. I’ve missed Eli’s ribs and I want…I want to actually get to know Jason.”

October 3, 2019

This entry is part 19 of 31 in the All of Me

What if I told your lies
What if you cried with my eyes
Could anyone keep us down
What if you were me
What if I were you
What if your hand was my hand
Could we hold on and let go
What if your life was my life
Can we love what we don’t know
What If, Five For Fighting


Tuesday, September 9, 2003

 Quartermaine Estate: Garden

“Ugh. Why did I become a doctor again?” Emily demanded as she flopped down on the wicker loveseat next to Lila’s wheelchair and across from Elizabeth, seated in a wicker armchair. She’d just worked an overnight shift at General Hospital.  “You know, Mom and Dad made this crap look easy—”

“I tried to remind you you’re not a morning person,” Elizabeth said with a half-smile as she accepted the lemonade Reginald handed her before he refilled Lila’s glass and poured one for Emily. “But you wanted to be a doctor.”

“You love to say I told you so,” Emily muttered as she sipped her drink. “Hi, Grandmother.”

“Hello, dear. It’s nice of you to join us,” Lila said with her usual gracious smile. “Despite how tired you are. It makes me happy to have my darling girl home.” She hesitated. “I only wish Brooke Lynn could be here.”

“I know,” Emily said. “Lucky doesn’t talk much about the investigation, but at least there haven’t been more attacks.” She looked at Elizabeth. “What did you want to talk about? It sounded serious on the phone earlier.”

Elizabeth paused, unsure if she wanted to get into it around Lila, not wanting to worry the elderly woman after everything she had been through this summer. But she had always appreciated the relationship Lila had with the rest of the Quartermaines, especially Jason and Emily.  “I had my check up with Monica yesterday, and she told me something I wasn’t really expecting.” She bit her lip. “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant,” Emily repeated, her eyes widening. She traded a look with her grandmother who, to her credit, looked as apprehensive as Elizabeth felt. “That’s…is that safe? I mean…”

“Monica said it’s not her area,” Elizabeth said. “And she wants me to talk to someone to specializes in high-risk pregnancies because…”

“Forgive me, my dear,” Lila said gently. “Is there a precise health concern or is Monica worried you haven’t entirely recovered?”

Remembering that Lila had had her children in the 1940s and might not be familiar with the risks they knew about now, Elizabeth told her about the blood clots and risk factors of embolisms in pregnancy as well as the probability that faulty condoms from an ELQ company might be to blame for the surprise. “The thing this, Monica said this isn’t an area that’s been studied a lot.”

“Yeah, women’s health is, like, at the bottom of the list,” Emily said, grimacing. “Robin complains about it when we email each other. She wants to specialize in medical research, but she had trouble getting funding for anything that didn’t benefit men more.” She rolled her eyes. “And God forbid we study pregnancy — I mean, women only keep the species going—”

“Darling,” Lila said, bringing Emily back to the conversation. She looked back to Elizabeth. “So there isn’t a lot that Monica can tell you?”

“Beyond the fact that, having already suffered a pulmonary embolism accompanied with cardiac arrest and a mild heart attack—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, because she couldn’t understand how that was her life. How that was now her medical history. “Having had those conditions, my risk level is elevated. There’s some thought that it drops after a year, then further after five. But nothing right on point about percentages.”

“And I guess she doesn’t really feel qualified to tell you how pregnancy might raise that risk factor,” Emily offered. “I mean, it does, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. She thought so. I could have a blood clot tomorrow. Six months. Right after the birth. And I think she’s also worried about the stress on my heart and my lungs.” Elizabeth rubbed a restless hand against her chest. “Jason and I talked about having kids down the road, but this…this feels so soon.”

“What does Jason say, my dear?” Lila asked.

“All the right things,” Elizabeth said, shrugging one shoulder. “He’ll support me whatever I decide, but…he’s not telling me what he actually thinks. Maybe he’s afraid to sway me either way.”

“Maybe,” Emily admitted. “But you know he’s been…you guys have argued more than once about your health and recovery. He’s tried to step back from worrying too much.”

“I just…I don’t know what I want to do.” Elizabeth set her glass down on the little table in the middle before staring down at her lap, at her hands tightly clasped. “I want children. After the miscarriage, I knew it was something I really wanted. And Jason was such a good father to Michael. I know he wants children, too. But…”

“But at what cost?” Emily asked, tilting her head. “You’d be insane not to think about the alternatives, Elizabeth. There’s no law that says you have to have this baby because the Quartermaines are bad at making condoms.”

“I just…those last few hours before I collapsed — the chest pains, the struggle to breathe. I can remember that last phone call with Jason, trying to find the button to free Carly—and then everything just goes dark. I don’t even remember, not really, laying on the floor, talking to him. Waiting for the paramedics. And then when I woke up, it hurt to breathe. It took me almost a week before I could walk down the halls in the hospital. Two weeks before I could go home.”

“You came so close to dying.” Emily leaned forward. “I can still remember the fear in Bobbie’s voice when we talked on the phone, and I was terrified you might die before I could get home. Mom said it was that close. You almost died, Elizabeth. Don’t blame yourself for not wanting to do something that puts that back on the table.”

“But what if the way I feel is just that? It’s an emotion. I’m terrified, Emily,” Elizabeth admitted. “I don’t want to die…but I also don’t to turn away from something I know that I want because of how scared I am.”

She waited a long moment before continuing. “And I also…I’m also scared that if I were to—if I decided to terminate the pregnancy, I don’t know if that’s something Jason can live with.”

“I think,” Emily said, carefully, “that Jason would probably be okay. He’s always been logical about these kinds of things. If having kids right now is a risk to your life, can you honestly see Jason telling you he’d rather have the chance at a child than you?”

“No, but…” She bit her lip. “I don’t know. And I don’t even know how long I have to make up my mind.”

“I think you’re right,” Emily told her. “That right now, everything is an emotion. Mom even said this isn’t something she can really talk about with any expertise. She can talk about conditions to minimize another PE, but she doesn’t know if there are ways to do that with pregnancy. Make the appointment with the OB/GYN. Maybe what you’re worried about isn’t as bad as you think. Maybe it is. But at this point—”

“It’s all just worry and fears.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I can live with that. Wait to talk to the doctor.”

“And, my darling,” Lila said, “whatever you decide in the end, this family will support you.” She offered her hand. Elizabeth grasped it, taking her first easy breath since her appointment the day before.

Warehouse: Sonny’s Office

Jason had planned to talk to Sonny about Elizabeth’s pregnancy when he got to work that morning, hoping that Sonny might have something…anything to offer him in the way of comfort or advice. He’d always been able to take his problems to Sonny in the beginning of their friendship, but Jason could see now he’d been doing that less and less over the last few years—

And Sonny had drifted away from him in a lot of ways, becoming less and less concerned with Jason’s life. When Carly had gone missing that summer, Jason’s entire life had become laser focused on getting her back. Elizabeth had been kidnapped the previous summer, and Sonny had offered little to no help at all.

It was frustrating to admit that Jason wasn’t sure exactly when their friendship had gone off the rails — maybe it was wrong to blame Sonny when Jason knew he’d stopped talking to Sonny in a lot of ways after that terrible December night when Carly had waltzed down the penthouse stairs, clad only in a badly buttoned dress shirt.

When Jason arrived at the office, however, Sonny was already complaining to Bernie and Johnny O’Brien, one of their guys in charge of security, about an argument he’d had with Carly.

When Jason appeared in the doorway, Sonny scowled and gestured at him, saying to Bernie and Johnny, “And look, here’s someone else who doesn’t seem to get it! That fucker has to die!”

Johnny glanced at Jason out of the corner of his eye, lifting his brows slightly as if to offer an apology.

“We’ve been over this,” Johnny said, patiently. “You don’t want to give the PCPD any reason to look at us while Bernie and Justus are still getting the paperwork in order. We had six months without a business manager and full-time attorney.”

“I’m tired of sitting around and waiting. You saw how the system worked against Elizabeth,” Sonny shot at Jason. “Taking you off her case, putting her under Ric’s control—”

“For less than a day,” Jason retorted. “But we got it back. And forget the heat the PCPD would put on us, I’m not convinced that going after Ric wouldn’t also put Trevor Lansing on us. We don’t know if he was involved in any of it—”

“Oh, I thought it wasn’t business,” Sonny drawled, raising his brows in a truly impressive display of sarcastic concern. “You told me it was personal—”

“Kidnapping Carly was,” Jason insisted. “If she’d been part of the plan, no way in hell she’s put in a panic room and kept there. But Ric came to town working with Faith Roscoe. Trevor called him to Crimson Point right at the beginning of all of this. Lansing might just need an excuse to give Zacchara to justify going after us. We don’t know that yet.”

He shook his head. “Right now, everything is quiet. No one is making any noises about Ric being free and alive. Business is moving along. Carly’s in her third trimester, and Elizabeth—”

Jason pressed his lips together. Was this even the time to tell Sonny that Elizabeth was pregnant? That she might end up in a high-risk pregnancy where stress needed to be avoided at all costs?

“I promised Elizabeth and Carly that I would do what they needed when it came to Ric,” Jason reminded Sonny. “I’m not breaking it.”

“Who the hell are you to promise my wife anything?” Sonny demanded.

Johnny and Bernie traded glances at each other that Sonny caught. He turned his attention back to them. “Oh, yeah, I get it. Jason’s the guy that found her so he gets to be in charge, right? Is that what you’re thinking?”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Johnny said quickly. “It’s not my job to think.”

“Damn right,” Sonny muttered. He looked at Jason. “Is that what this is? You want to be in charge? You don’t trust my judgement?”

How the hell had it gotten to this? Jason blinked, trying to understand exactly what Sonny’s problem was.

“When it comes to Ric, no,” he admitted. “You’re angry at yourself for not taking care of him in May. I’m angry at myself, too. We could have spared everyone a lot of grief. But you had your reasons then, and I agreed to let you deal with it. Because Ric was your brother. Your problem to fix.”

Jason shook his head. “But he didn’t just go after you. He went after Carly. Your wife. Twice. He went after your sister. But he nearly killed Elizabeth. Twice. He drugged her for months, Sonny, and then he assaulted her. All Elizabeth ever did was help us. She put her life on the line to bring Carly home. Because of me. Because of you. And because that’s who she is. The night Carly went missing—”

Sonny exhaled slowly closing her eyes. “She was barely able to stand on her feet, but she took our side. Refused to leave. Wanted to help.” He sank into the chair behind his desk. Behind Jason, Johnny and Bernie both left without another word.

“You think I don’t want Ric gone?” Jason asked, a bit more quietly. “I want him out of our lives, too. But that’s not going to make this over. Just having him killed isn’t going to end the nightmares for Carly or Elizabeth. They want their day in court. To face him. And then they want him to die in prison. That’s what they need. And after Elizabeth nearly died, after seeing the room Carly was held in, I have no issues letting them get what they need.”

Sonny didn’t say anything, so Jason continued. “Elizabeth found out yesterday that she’s pregnant.”

His partner’s head snapped up at that. “What? Now? It’s—” He shook his head. “It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

“It…wasn’t planned,” Jason said, not willing to go into the clusterfuck of ELQ and their faulty condoms. “With everything else that’s going on, after what happened with Brooke this summer, her sessions with Gail, the last thing I’m going to do is pressure her into doing something that makes my life easier. You can do whatever you want with Carly, but I’m not breaking my promise to Elizabeth. Not ever again.”

When Sonny had nothing else to say, Jason just left.

Manhattan: Courtney’s Apartment

Courtney stepped back to let her sister-in-law in, then hugged her nephew as Michael followed her, all bright smiles and happiness. She’d been surprised to hear from Carly—the first time since Courtney had moved from Port Charles to the city three weeks earlier but had agreed immediately to host Carly and Michael for a visit.

Sonny, Carly had informed her tersely, was not available.

After dinner with Michael, Courtney settled him in the guest room he would share with his mother before settling on the sofa with Carly in the living room. “So what brings you down to the city?”

Carly scowled. “I can’t visit my best friend? You moved. I missed you.”

Carly probably hadn’t thought much about her since Courtney had left the penthouse, but she let it slide. It wasn’t Carly’s fault, and one entered friendship with Carly realizing that she was relatively selfish. “Okay. Then tell me about the baby. How do you feel?”

“Like a parade float,” Carly muttered. She rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I needed to get away from Sonny. From my mother. From everyone. I feel like they’re all screaming I told you so and I am just…really not in the mood, you know?”

“Sonny still having issues?” Courtney asked quietly as she tucked one leg underneath her. “He was so angry after you came home. I mean, after the relief had passed. And I know he was pissed about what you and Liz wanted to do about Ric. Is that still an issue?”

“We don’t talk about it anymore,” Carly admitted. “He’s angry that I don’t seem to get how hard this was for him, and I guess—I guess I don’t get it. I don’t get how he thinks what he went through is so much more important than me. And if what happened to him—”

“The breakdown?” Courtney asked. “He hallucinated Lily, Carly. It was terrifying to see him like that. I honestly thought he’d be…”

“Committed?” Carly asked dryly. “Yeah, well…I used to think it was just…part of the marriage vows. For better or for worse. In sickness and health and all of that, but I guess…” She picked at the seam of the sofa. “I guess I took it for granted that the sickness part of that meant he would try to make himself better. Mama asked me why it was anyone else’s job but Sonny’s to give a damn about his mental health? Jason’s at the end of his rope—they’re arguing all the time.”

“Because Jason agrees with you,” Courtney said slowly, then sighed. “And because he probably promised Elizabeth he’d handle it her way.”

“Basically. And Sonny is just…so angry at all of us. Maybe I’m being selfish. If this bothers him so much—”

“Because Sonny’s a control freak,” Courtney said bluntly. “And that was clear this summer. Look, I made mistakes. And I—handled everything wrong. But Sonny fell apart. And that drives him insane. He couldn’t fix it. He’s not the one who brought you home. That was — that was Jason and Elizabeth. Your mother. Even Nikolas Cassadine who doesn’t even know you. All of them did more than Sonny. Demanding to deal with Ric, Carly? That’s Sonny trying to control everything again. And I’m sorry, but you’re not obligated to play into that.”

Carly bit her lip. “But—”

“I’m not denying that Sonny had a breakdown. That he was traumatized by the whole thing,” Courtney told her. “But you know what? It’s bullshit that he’s got you thinking you got to step back from something you need to make things better for him. When the hell is it your turn? You were kidnapped. Threatened with death. Locked in a room.” She shook her head. “Sonny should go see a therapist, figure out what’s wrong him, get on medicine, or whatever. But he needs to stop taking this out on you and Jason.”

Carly lifted her brows. “Where is this coming from?” she asked, shaking her head. “You and Sonny—”

“I don’t matter to Sonny,” Courtney told her. “Except as something he thinks he owns. I left Port Charles and you know what? He doesn’t call. He hasn’t bothered once. Bernie helped me sign the paperwork for this place, and my alimony from AJ is taking care of the bills for right now until I get a decent job. But my so-called brother only gave a damn about me when I was doing what he wanted.”

She took a deep breath. “Time and distance from Port Charles, even after three weeks, it’s put things into perspective. I didn’t like the person I was turning into there, Carly. Being around Sonny—having my life revolve around the rules necessary to be part of it—it was driving me out of my mind. I was going to marry a man who didn’t love me—who I knew didn’t love me—because it brought me closer to Sonny. I deserve better than that, you know? And so do you.”

She got up from the sofa and peered out the window. “You said Elizabeth agreed with you about wanting to testify, about wanting Ric to rot in prison.”

“Yes,” Carly said, her tone hesitant. She rubbed her belly absently. “So what?”

“Do you know if she had to talk Jason into it? Or did she explain herself and he said, yes. That’s it. You need this, so this is what we’ll do.” Courtney looked back at her sister-in-law. “Because he loves her. Because he loves you. He’s not just fighting with Sonny over a promise he made to Elizabeth, is he?”

“No,” Carly admitted quietly. “He promised me the same. And he told me that Elizabeth—that she said if I wanted Ric gone, it was up to me. She’d do whatever I need.” She shook her head. “Sanctimonious little martyr,” she muttered, but the words were without heat and almost an automatic defense. Carly didn’t bend easily.

“Everyone traumatized by this summer, Carly, is on your side. Jason and Elizabeth want what you need. Bobbie probably wants what you need. Everyone else who matters agrees with you. So why is it that you think you need to change for Sonny?”

Condo: Living Room

Elizabeth was frowning at a pot of sauce on the stove when Jason got home from work that night. One of the few recipes he’d taught her was a simple tomato sauce—because, as she’d said to him with a roll of her eyes—even an idiot could boil pasta.

“What’s wrong with the sauce?” he asked, after tossing his jacket over the back of the sofa. “You look like it’s burning.”

“I think I did something wrong,” she muttered. She held out a spoon for him to taste and his eyes nearly crossed at the amount of salt. “Yeah, see? I don’t know how that much salt got in there, but it’s there and it’s ruining—”

“Let’s just heat up the lasagna from the other night,” he suggested, kissing the top of her forehead. She turned off the burner, then switched the oven on for preheat. “Did you go to see Lila today?”

“Yeah, but it’s already starting to get too chilly to sit in the garden,” Elizabeth said, leaning against the counter. “At least for Lila. We’ll probably have to move inside in another week or so. Emily stopped by, too.” She bit her lip. “I told them about…” She looked away. “I told them,” she repeated.

“I told Sonny,” Jason admitted. He pulled the foil-wrapped lasagna from the refrigerator and set it on the counter, waiting for the oven to beep. “Not all of it. We were arguing about Ric again.”

“Still?” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “It feels like that should be settled. I mean—if Carly changes her mind, fine. But I don’t get—” She crossed her arms. “I mean, I guess I get why Sonny’s still mad, but what good does it do at this point?”

“Not much.” Jason glanced at her, then busied himself doing the few dishes left in the sink from breakfast. “What did Emily and Lila say?”

“I think when we talked about it yesterday,” Elizabeth said slowly, “part of you wanted to put an option on the table but you didn’t want to say it outright. When you said you’d support whatever decision I made, you meant…you meant I could have an abortion.”

The kitchen was quiet for a long moment as Jason thought carefully about his next words. He set the last plate in the dish rack, then dried his hands. “I—” He shook his head, turned back to face her. “Yeah. I guess I think it should be an option.”

“I think so, too,” Elizabeth said softly. “I was afraid to say it out loud. Because I know a baby is something we’ve both talked about wanting. At some point. And it feels like we got this surprise, and instead of being happy, we’ve both immediately—”

She shook her head and sat at the table. He joined her, sitting next to her. “We both immediately went to the risks. And I’m afraid that if we went through with the pregnancy, that’s what it would be. We wouldn’t be happy about the baby. We’d be scared all the time.”

He opened his mouth, then realized he didn’t really have anything to say to that. Because of course that was probably true. Hadn’t her health taken over everything since she’d left the hospital? The oxygen mask he still insisted on keeping ready on the side table despite not needing it for the last two weeks. The way he still took her pulse sometimes when she wasn’t paying attention.

Sometimes he woke with a start in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep until he was sure that her chest was rising and falling.

Keeping Elizabeth healthy had taken over almost all of his waking hours since she’d nearly died, and she was probably right—the next eight or nine months probably meant more of the same.

“And I have to admit, Jason—part of me is terrified that we’re right to worry. That…I could decide to take a risk and then maybe I get an embolism at five months or six months. And maybe I don’t get a miracle. Maybe this time that’s it.” Her voice broke. “And then you’re not just burying me, but the baby. And what if I get through labor, then have a clot? It happens then. Maybe the next clot will be an aneurysm in my brain.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d once been so good at ignoring the what-ifs, preferring to focus on the here and now. You couldn’t control the future, couldn’t stop it, so why bother trying?

But every one of those scenarios had run through his mind since she’d told him the news and probably a thousand other possibilities.

“If you’re worried about what I’d think if you decided to have an abortion,” Jason said slowly, “I told you. I need you here. Alive. Healthy. Whatever we have to do is worth that to me. We could adopt. There are surrogates—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips to quiet him. “And once I admitted that part of my fear was if you’d leave me if I didn’t have this child, if maybe I decided I never wanted to risk—I realized how insane that was. We’ve been through too much for any of that.” She took his hands in hers. “I’m scared, Jason. Because I don’t want to die. I feel like I’ve finally figured out my life, and I’m exactly where I want to be, you know?”

“So, you’re not going—”

“I also don’t want to live my life in fear,” she continued, cutting him off with a shake of her head. “Right now, that’s all you and I have. The fear. We don’t know if there’s a way we can go forward and feel confident.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “I mean, part of me feels like I got a miracle when I lived through the cardiac arrest and everything Ric did to me. What if that’s it? What if that’s the only miracle I get?”

Jason tugged her off the chair and onto his lap so he could wrap his arms around her, holding her as the sobs silently shook her shoulders.

“I don’t think that’s how miracles work,” he murmured, his cheek pressed against hers. “Everything inside of me is screaming at you not to take this risk. That nothing is worth the chance I might lose you.”

She drew back slightly so that their noses were touching. She framed his face with her hands, delicately wiping away his tears with her thumbs. “I don’t want to live my life running away from everything that scares me. I ran away from you. Twice. I want to stop running, Jason.”

He nodded, understanding where she was going with this. “You’re saying we don’t have enough information to make this kind of decision.”

“Having a family is our dream, Jason. And yeah, you and me? That’s enough for me. Because I love you and I know that you love me. But we both want children. And the universe…I can’t believe the universe would be so cruel to give this to us when we weren’t expecting it. So…Monica called and told me that she’d arranged for an appointment with a doctor at the hospital later this week. She’s one of the best in the state. And we’ll…take it one step at a time.”

“Okay.” Jason nodded. “Okay.” Behind them, the oven beeped, and he sighed. “I’ll go put in dinner. We should both eat.”

She lifted herself off his lap and watched as he went back into the kitchen. “Jason, if we decide to keep the baby, promise me that we’ll try to be more excited than we are scared.”

“I—” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can promise that.” Jason looked at her, feeling a bit helpless at her undaunted courage because he knew—even if she didn’t—that somewhere inside of her, she’d already made the choice. “But I will love you and the baby, and we’ll get through it together.”

September 30, 2019

This entry is part 18 of 31 in the All of Me

Is it dark, where you are?
Can you count the stars where you are?
Do you feel like you are a thousand miles from home?
Are you lost, where you are?
Can you find your way when you’re so far?
Do you fear, where you are?
A thousand nights alone
Longest Night, Howie Day


Monday, September 8, 2003

General Hospital: Monica’s Office

Elizabeth shifted in her chair and checked the clock on the wall. It had been at least ten minutes since Monica had gone to get her blood test results. Not that Elizabeth was all that nervous about her two-month checkup — the checkup that would, hopefully, go a long way towards reassuring Jason.

He’d gotten a lot better about her health in the last five weeks and she hadn’t needed the oxygen mask in two weeks, but she still sometimes caught him looking at her closely and hesitating before doing anything more strenuous than walking across the room.

Finally, almost fifteen minutes after Monica had left, Jason’s mother returned, a folder in her hand…and a carefully blank look on her face.

Elizabeth straightened in her chair, watching with trepidation as Monica sat in the empty chair next to her, not behind her desk. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Monica said. “There was…” She pursed her lips. “A result on the initial round of tests that came back that required further testing. The results of that second test just came in…” She looked at Elizabeth. “I had to run a pregnancy test.”

“Pregnancy…” Elizabeth trailed off with a shake of her head. “Well, I’m not pregnant. I mean, it’s too soon after everything that happened, and—” With a slight flush, she lifted her hands in confusion, letting them fall back into her lap. “Jason and I are careful. I mean, I can’t use the pill anymore, but we—Monica, we’re—” She bit her lip. “Did it come back positive?”

“It did. We can run another one if you’re really not convinced. When was your last period?”

“Honestly? Not since before the miscarriage.” Her heart plummeted into her stomach. “Oh, God. Monica. There’s no way I was pregnant before everything happened — I mean, I didn’t…I didn’t sleep with Ric again, but he was drugging me—”

Her stomach lurched as she turned away. Oh, God—

“No, no, of course not. We ran all of these tests at the last appointment and this is the first time this hormone level was elevated. I can assure you, Elizabeth, you were not pregnant when you came in for the overdose. I ran a full toxicology report at the time and pregnancy is just…it’s one of the basic things we test for in our female patients.” Monica exhaled in a huff. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you worry—it’s not Ric’s child. No chance of it.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay. Well, then, at the most, I couldn’t be more than seven weeks along. Um…” She looked at Monica, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “You still look concerned. Worried.”

“This isn’t my specialty,” Monica admitted, “but I will admit to being a bit…apprehensive about what a pregnancy means for your health—at this point. Unfortunately, there’s not a terrible lot of information out there about the risks of embolisms in pregnant patients after already having suffered an occurrence. But—”

“Blood clots, specifically pulmonary embolisms, are a risk factor in pregnancy,” Elizabeth finished. She stared down at her hands. “What else?”

“You didn’t just suffer an embolism, Elizabeth. You were in cardiac arrest. You had a mild heart attack when the second clot burst. You’ve struggled to regain your stamina and energy because of how severe the crisis was.” Monica waited a moment. “If you had come to me, asking for a timetable, I would have recommended waiting at least year.”

“We were safe,” Elizabeth repeated, more to herself. “Jason—I mean, after Robin—and you know obsessed he’s been about my health. He never would have—”

“I think—” Monica bit her lip. “It hasn’t hit the news quite yet, and of course, it depends on your brand, but one of ELQ’s subsidiary companies will be issuing a recall on a batch of condoms. For this very reason, apparently. They were…less than effective.”

“Oh, God.” Elizabeth pressed her hands to her face. “Enduro.”

“Yes.”

Pregnant. Less than two months after nearly dying from blood clots and cardiac arrest…she looked at her doctor, at Jason’s mother. “What…happens next? What would you recommend? I mean, if I were just any other patient—”

“You mean if you weren’t carrying my grandchild?” Monica asked. When Elizabeth nodded, Monica waited another moment before answering. “This isn’t my area of expertise,” she reminded Elizabeth. “I’m going to make some calls and get a recommendation for the best OB/GYN who specializes in high-risk pregnancy, but make no mistake, Elizabeth—this is a high-risk pregnancy. You’re at an elevated risk for another blood clot already, particularly because yours was hormone induced.”

“And adding a condition that elevates the risk even further…I could have a blood clot tomorrow,” Elizabeth murmured.

“You could. I just…” Monica reached for Elizabeth’s hands. “But I think you have time to make a decision. For you and Jason to talk about what it means, to consult a doctor—”

“We talked about children just…just a few weeks ago. I wanted them. I do. But…” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Can you make those calls? I’ll…talk to Jason. And we’ll see where we are.”

Port Charles Municipal Building: Scott’s Office

Scott glanced up from his paperwork as Taggert entered his office, followed by Kelsey. He exhaled slowly and got to his feet. “Judging by the looks on your faces, the tests came in as scheduled.”

“All fourteen rape kits have been processed. A few of them came back negative, but…” Taggert looked at Kelsey before continuing. “We have results in ten of the cases. Seven of them…linked.”

“Seven.” Scott closed his eyes. “All seven under investigation for the park rapes? Isn’t it unusual for—”

“It is,” Kelsey admitted. “But the lab report…” She set the results on his desk. “Apparently the guy didn’t wear a condom in any case at all. Which…can be a signature on its own. He’s…reckless.”

“He thinks he can’t be caught,” Taggert muttered. “And he’s right. Because Elizabeth Webber’s dress came back positive for semen, and her case matches the other six. Guess who got excluded?”

“Fuck me.” Scott perused the report as his stomach continued to twist and turn. “They covered it up. They made her case go away. Why? Why would they cover for Baker?”

“I don’t think they did.” Kelsey took a seat. “You said you talked to the ADA on the Baker case, right?” she said to Taggert.  “To Dara Jensen, about the rape kit results?”

“I did. Why?”

“Remember what she said about the media circus around the trial? Baker was accused of blackmailing and holding Edward Quartermaine’s granddaughter hostage.” Kelsey arched a brow. “Did Edward Quartermaine know about the Webber rape case and the accusation against Baker?”

“I—I don’t know why he would have unless Emily had told him. You don’t think—”

“I think it’s possible Edward Quartermaine leaned on Floyd to make sure Baker went away. Floyd leaned on the commissioner. And, I guess, look at it from the commissioner’s standpoint—if he believes Elizabeth Webber, Tom Baker admitted he raped her. And he’s going to trial on slam dunk charges that will put him away for at least twenty-five years, if not more.”

Taggert exhaled slowly. “Meanwhile, we got a rape kit that may or may not come back positive — and if there’s no DNA, it’s her word against his. The rape case was weaker.” He hesitated. “And to be honest, we hadn’t really talked about the case at the department after Baker was arrested. The evidence was weak. Dara didn’t tell us outright she wouldn’t file rape charges, but I think there was already an atmosphere…Baker was going to jail. We didn’t need to spend the time or resources.”

The lieutenant looked away, cleared his throat. “But that doesn’t explain what happened to her case. The dress in the evidence box, the way her case was pushed off the open list—”

“Exactly.” Kelsey leaned forward. “And look, if that had been the case — if everyone involved had agreed not to prosecute the rape because of its overall weakness, that would have been fine. But that’s not what happened. Without testing the kit, there was no way of knowing the strength of the case. All we know for sure is that in November, you were told to make the case inactive. If you’d run that kit and it had come back negative for Baker, it might have brought Elizabeth Webber’s credibility into question.”

“Because if she’s lying about his confession, the defense could have made her look hysterical and unstable. She’s the one holding the gun…” Scott shook his head. “Doesn’t explain the falsified lab report—”

“You said Elizabeth nearly caused a mistrial with her outcry in the court room,” Kelsey said. “Maybe Edward Quartermaine got cold feet about hurrying the case along.”

“Or, maybe he found out for the first time that the charge existed,” Taggert offered. “And Mac and Floyd had to cover their tracks. I—” He shook his head. “I thought I got a real big win when Mac said he’d sent the kit out for testing. Even though he wanted me to shelve it, he’d said he’d send it over. He never intended to do that.”

“It doesn’t make any of it right,” Kelsey said. “And the fact that the commissioner put her case in the closed archives rather than cold storage—it meant that we didn’t make the link. Think about this — the seven cases we have—the first three are spread out.”

“Yeah.” Scott looked at his list of dates. “February 1998. April 1999. January 2000. And then nothing until February 2003.” He tapped his pencil. “Taggert, I know you’ve been holding off telling Elizabeth that the case is reopened, but I think with these results—”

“Yeah, I know. I should tell her today, but…” Taggert shook his head. “Let me leave it for last. I’ll officially reopen the 1999 and 2000 attacks, take those victim statements.”

“And what does the delay give you?” Kelsey asked. “I mean—”

“It doesn’t give me anything. It just gives Elizabeth Webber a few more days, maybe even a whole week before I have to rip open that wound again.” Taggert held out his hand and Kelsey gave him back his copy of the lab report. “And yeah, I know it’s special treatment and maybe I should start with her first because, chronologically, she is the first known—”

“I think, for once, it won’t kill us to give Elizabeth Webber a break,” Scott told Kelsey. “This is a lot to ask her take on, and she may not want to get involved. I mean, what do we tell her about what happened with her file? She thinks her evidence was tested.”

“I don’t know,” Kelsey admitted. “I mean, we don’t know anything for sure.”

“I’m not going to lie to her.” Taggert shook his head. “She’s had enough of that from this department. And if I didn’t want to be kicked off this case or fired, I’d be calling the papers.”

“We’re not leaking to the papers,” Scott said. “It’s bad enough the papers are digging into the other three victims and dragging Brooke’s case out every time Ned Ashton makes a speech. You want Elizabeth in the middle of another media circus? With Ric Lansing out on bail?”

“Fine. But I’m not letting Floyd or Mac get away with this forever, Baldwin. So figure out how you want to play this.”

Brownstone: Living Room

Bobbie braced Carly’s elbow as her heavily pregnant daughter lowered herself onto the sofa. “I would have come to you in the penthouse,” Bobbie told her as she sat next to her. “You don’t need to drag yourself out when you’re feeling so tired.”

“Does it show?” Carly bit out as she set her purse next to her and leaned back. “And I needed a break from the penthouse. Sonny is…”

“Driving you crazy?”

“I wish.” Carly sighed. “He’s barely talking to me since Elizabeth and I told Scott that we didn’t want a deal.”

“Is he that angry he’s going to have to wait a few more months for Ric to have an accident in jail?” Bobbie said, rolling her eyes. She crossed into the kitchen as Carly remained seated. “I get that he wants it all over—”

“He’s not mad about that, even though he’d prefer it already be over. He’s mad because I told him…I told him no accidents at all.”

Bobbie hesitated behind the counter where she was pulling out her tea kettle. She filled the kettle and placed it on the stove before rejoining her daughter in the living room. “No accidents ever?” she asked.

“I want Ric Lansing to rot away in a small cell for the rest of his life. I want to visit him there and make sure he knows who put him there.” Carly sat up straighter. “Death is too easy. Too quick. I want him to suffer. Is that so goddamn bad?”

“No,” Bobbie admitted. “And now that the image is my head, I have to admit, I like it. Elizabeth…felt the same way?”

“She didn’t talk to you about this?”

“Not really. I knew she didn’t want a deal either, but…”

“Yeah, it’s one of the few things we’ve ever agreed on,” Carly said, with a shrug. “And of course, Jason was on board with it. Whatever she needs, he gives it to her. But I get stuck with Sonny, who’s so goddamn selfish—”

She let her head fall back against the sofa. “I get Sonny’s life, Mama. I get it. And mostly, I don’t give a shit about it. But this happened to me. Not him. And it’s getting really old trying to balance worrying about Sonny’s mental health when I’m just trying to get through my own day.”

“Are you…” Bobbie pursed her lips. “Are you still having nightmares? I thought Kevin’s sessions—”

“I’m not sure the nightmares will ever go away,” Carly admitted. “But Kevin taught me how to avoid the panic attacks, to manage the stress. But I’m tired, Mama. You know when you told me you wanted Sonny to get help, and I told you not to worry?”

“Because you and Jason would handle it?”

“Well, I’m thinking about what you said back then. About how that’s not fair. And I thought—well I’m his wife. That’s the role I agreed to. It’s in the vows. And Jason is his best friend. That’s how this is supposed to work. You stand by each other until the bitter end. The thing is…” Carly sighed. “I think I’m starting to get to the bitter end part of it, and I have a feeling Jason isn’t far away. He wants his own life. To put Elizabeth and her needs first. And what kind of bitch would I have to be to demand he put me and my family first? He has his own.”

“Carly—”

“I’m just having a bad day, Mama. So I need…I need a break from Sonny, from that penthouse…because I’m starting to forget why I’m there in the first place.”

Port Charles Hotel: Renaissance Room

Alexis walked away from Elton Herbert as the flamboyant and verbose party planner prattled on about the menu for Ned’s fundraiser later that evening.

She might be Ned’s events coordinator (she still wasn’t sure how that had happened) but there was not enough money on God’s green Earth to make her listen to that man for another second.

“Do whatever you want,” she called over her shoulder as Jax, who had been appointed as Ned’s actual campaign manager, entered the room. “Thank God. Tell him to stop asking me about serving caviar or langoustine. I don’t even know what the second thing is.”

She pursed her lips, spying Jax’s pensive expression. “What’s wrong?”

Jax sighed, then steered her over to an empty table in the corner of the room. “I’m worried.”

“About what?” Alexis drew her glasses out of the purse she’d left on the table and reached for the sheaf of papers in his hands. “Are those the polls Ned commissioned? It looks like he’s neck and neck with Floyd, which is good considering—” She caught Jax’s eye. “It’s not good? Why?”

“Because…” Jax sighed, leaned against the wall of the room and watched as the workers on the far aside continued to assemble the stage. “Because in two months this campaign will be over.”

“Uh huh.” Alexis shook her head and removed her glasses. “I’m still not seeing the problem, Jasper. With two more months, Ned could easily overtake—” She tipped her head. “I thought we were in agreement on this. Floyd is a boil on the butt of humanity and Ned was the perfect choice to not only clean his clock but to take over.”

“And I still think that. I just worry…that we’re not doing the right thing by Ned,” Jax shook his head. “I don’t know if he’s really…grieved yet. He lost his daughter. He lost his fiancée last year—” he grimaced, obviously remember Ned’s fiancée had been her sister. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s been a very difficult year for all of us,” Alexis offered. “But this is how Ned gets through things. You know that. You only got out of bed after Brenda went over that cliff because your family lost its fortune and you had a goal.”

“Yeah, I had a goal to get back what my family had lost. To rebuild my future,” Jax reminded her. “Ned got into this for revenge. I think, even if he beats Floyd, he’s going to wake up and realize how empty that really is.”

“I don’t know. I got my revenge on Luis Alcazar,” Alexis said, pitching her voice slightly lower. “And that felt damn good then and still feels good now.” Even if she hadn’t entirely meant to shove him over the balcony, oh man, it had been sweet. Apparently, she’d inherited something from her ancestors.

Even if she’d immediately locked it right back up after pretending to have her mental breakdown and losing custody of Kristina. Nothing ever went well when she unleashed her inner Cassadine.

“Don’t remind me,” Jax muttered. “I’m just worried about him. About the day after the campaign. What if he loses?”

“Let’s just get to the end of the campaign,” Alexis suggested. “One day a time, isn’t that what we said we’d do?”

“Yes, but—”

“It’s healthy for him to focus on the campaign. To have a reason to get out of bed. I know you don’t disagree that keeping him busy is the best idea.” Alexis patted his shoulder. “This isn’t something we can fix, Jax. All we can do is follow his lead and be there when he falls down.”

Kelsey’s Apartment: Dining Room

Somehow, without Kelsey realizing it, her life had fallen into a routine. Working the serial rapist case full-time had allowed for a regular working schedule for Lucky, which meant they finished their day about the same time. Lucky had started to wait for her outside the Municipal Building, across the street from the department.

She’d driven them back to her place where they both compared notes on their day, on the cases, over dinner. Then they’d go to bed—together. And start over the next day.

They weren’t living together—it was way too soon for that but for right now, they were both eating, breathing, living with this case and somehow, being together made the horrors bearable.

The day the DNA matches came in, they didn’t talk about in the car. Lucky talked about his brother who was coming home in a few days while Kelsey related how much she was looking forward to her mother driving up for dinner again.

But once they got home, spread out their files along with their dinner from Kelly’s, the light banter had ceased. Lucky stared down at his case notes, brooding as Kelsey studied her court docket for the next day.

“You feel guilty,” Kelsey said after a long period of quiet. She pushed her spoon around the bowl of chili. “Because Taggert still doesn’t want to tell Elizabeth.”

“I guess.” Lucky shrugged. “I mean, I get his argument. I understood it back in July. Until we had physical evidence, what was the point of dragging her into this, but we have it now. And Elizabeth would at least sit down with us. She’d give us a statement.”

“Taggert still having issues getting the others to agree to a follow-up?”

“He’s trying to find Logan and Lopez now. They moved out of town, and Taggert’s having trouble finding family members to ask.” He reached for a notebook. “Watson, Norton, and Morris weren’t returning our calls two months ago. What makes anyone think they’ll change their mind now?”

“You don’t think Taggert could persuade them?”

“He could.” Lucky sighed. “I guess I just—I’m not in a hurry to bring that back for her. But waiting for the others to give their statements just delays our progress—”

“I think it’s more that Taggert hasn’t figured out how to tell Elizabeth her case is opened again without explaining why suddenly we have a DNA profile we didn’t have before. Unless he lies to her, she’ll know something happened.” Kelsey shrugged. “He’s taking her case personally. The way you are. And neither one of you wants to let her down. So he’s waiting until he has all the evidence before he has to come clean.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Lucky asked, eyebrows raised.

“I think…” Kelsey looked down at her case notes, at the collection of photographs she kept just inside the top folder—a photo of every single victim prior to their attack. She kept them there to remind herself that they came first, and that everything they did was for them. “I think that after the PCPD screwed up their cases in the first place, the least we can do is avoid further harm. We don’t have a suspect, Lucky. We don’t have a lead. Do you want to tell Elizabeth that we’re reopening her case with nothing more than what we could have had five years ago?”

“I guess. I just don’t want her to fall through the cracks again.”

Port Charles Mall: AMC Movie Theater

It was the first time they’d attempted to have another movie night since Brooke’s rape two months earlier. They’d gone to the mall in the middle of the day, deciding that it would be different enough to keep their minds off that tragedy.

Only Lucas hadn’t really taken into account just how much had changed since that sweltering July night. Maxie had brought Kyle again, but Lucas wasn’t paying that much attention to him. Not since Maxie and Georgie had both suggested he bring Felix.

Lulu had also joined them, sitting with Dillon and looking cozy, which gave Georgie an excuse to glare at the blond who, up until two weeks ago, been one of their closest friends. Lucas didn’t know if his cousin was dating Dillon or not, but Lu liked to cause drama. So she’d hung over him maybe a bit more than she might have otherwise, sharing his popcorn and laughing at any joke, no matter how feeble.

“How long before she goes for the hair?” Felix murmured in his ear as the movie lights dimmed and Georgie got in one more shot about how hard Mac was working that day, which only made Dillon tense more. His cousin really was an idiot, Lucas thought with a grimace.

“Oh, let’s hope we at least get through the movie. I’m not in the mood to get kicked out of another one.”

They managed to get all the way through Maxie’s pick, Intolerable Cruelty, but even she was wrinkling her nose when they filed out of the theater and into the mall at large. “Ugh, that should have been better. It’s a romantic comedy. Why do I not feel flirty and happy?”

“Maybe it’s the company,” Georgie said. “Can we go now?”

Maxie huffed at her younger sister, then turned her back to look at the rest of them. “Wanna go to Kelly’s or the food court?”

“I’m going home,” Georgie announced. “I have work to do. Some of us want to graduate college.” A flick of glance in Lulu’s direction made it clear who she meant.

“Oh, get off it, Jones. We only started classes a week ago,” Lulu said. She rolled her eyes. “You need to get a grip.”

You need to—”

Lucas stepped in front Georgie as she stepped forward while Kyle edged preemptively in front of Lulu. “Let’s just calm down.”

“Oh, relax,” Georgie said, with a roll of her eyes. “No one is gonna stalk off in a sulk—” she pressed her lips closed as the group stilled and Dillon’s already irritated expression grew more furious. “Whatever. I’m going home.”

She stormed off towards one of the mall entrances, leaving the rest of them to stare after her. “Ironically,” Kyle offered, “she’s storming—”

“We all caught it,” Maxie said, pressing her lips over her boyfriend’s mouth. “Don’t mansplain it.”

“Mansplain—”

Anyway,” Lulu said, with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Can we go to back to the part where we get lunch? I’m starving.”

They opted for the food court, then went off in different directions to get their food. Maxie and Lulu headed for Salad Works while Felix and Lucas decided to get Chinese food.

Kyle followed Dillon to the burger stand, and as they waited their turn, he cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m sorry about Georgie.”

“Why are you sorry?” Dillon muttered. “We broke up two months ago. And Lulu is our friend. She’s been Georgie’s friend longer than I’ve known either of them.”

“Who didn’t mind playing up the new girlfriend role,” Kyle offered. “No, I mean, it just…it sucks that she’s taking it this way. I mean, Maxie is messed up about Mac, too. All the crap that’s been in the press. She’s…” he hesitated. “She’s cried a few times about it. Says Mac’s a great guy, but she doesn’t understand why he didn’t tell them. So she could have warned Brooke, too.”

“She gets it then.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she likes it.” Kyle jerked a shoulder as they moved up in the line. “And you know it’s been a lot worse with your brother running for mayor. It’s on the news, it’s in the papers. And Georgie’s…she’s always been a…” he trailed off.

Dillon eyed Maxie’s boyfriend, wondering when he’d stopped being annoyed by him. Maybe it had been Kyle’s steadiness in the park that terrible night or later, after Lucas had introduced them to Felix, Kyle had been the first to suggest Felix come to the next group thing.

“Maxie’s made a lot of mistakes in her life,” Dillon said after a moment. “Gotten into trouble. Done dumb things. It’s easier for her to see that other people aren’t perfect.”

“But the thing this—with Mac in the papers all the time, it just means Brooke’s still in the papers. And I know you guys knew that would happen when Ned decided to run, but still—I’m sorry, man, but every time I read another account about how she left us while we were arguing, I get angry at myself all over again. I don’t know what the hell Lucas and I were thinking. Or why it seemed so important.”

“Maxie and I were bickering, too. We were all ignoring Brooke.” Dillon stepped up to the counter and put in his food order. When he and Kyle had moved over to the pick up window, he took a deep breath. “Lucky Spencer told me that it might take a long time to forgive myself. That even though I know, logically, it wasn’t our fault…”

“It still feels like it is,” Kyle finished. “Yeah. Well, I know all about not being able forgive yourself for the dumb stuff you actually do. What happened with Maxie—”

“Is not something anybody but Maxie needs to forgive you for,” Dillon interrupted. He looked back at the table where Maxie and Lulu had returned to. “Can you get Maxie to call Georgie in a few more minutes? Make sure she got home okay?”

“Yeah, but I bet that’s why she’s pulling out her cell phone now.” They picked up their food and headed back to the table.

Condo: Living Room

Elizabeth told herself to put it away for a few hours, to stop thinking about Monica’s announcement, and the implications of it until she could talk to Jason after he got done work.

She had to stop herself several times from going straight to the warehouse and dumping this on him, but truth be told…

She didn’t know what Jason would do when she told him she was pregnant. Because as much as she wanted to be happy—she was terrified. She’d gone to the library and checked out a bunch of pregnancy books, pouring over the side effects and all the possibilities. She’d tried a few Internet searches while there—she still didn’t have a computer of her own—but everything seemed to tell her she was dying.

Instead of calming her down, the fact that pulmonary embolisms were listed as a side effect in every single pregnancy book only worried her more. Did that mean they happened a lot? And apparently, they were more common after birth, which meant her baby might live but Elizabeth would die.

And was that a risk she wanted to take? Was it a risk Jason would be on board for?

She thought about talking to Bobbie or Emily, even calling Nikolas, but she managed to keep the phone on the hook. Jason deserved to get this news first. Even if she didn’t know exactly what to tell him or what he might say.

Finally, around six, Jason walked through the door. He offered a smile as he pulled off his jacket and hung it in the closet next to her door. “Hey.” He joined her in the kitchen where she was perusing the freezer and their selection of frozen pizzas. He kissed her, his hand cupping her jaw. “What’d you do today?”

“Um…” Elizabeth closed the freezer door. “I had my appointment with Monica.”

“Right, the two-month checkup. You said something about it this morning.” Jason followed her out of the kitchen, his brow furrowing. “How did it go?”

“Um, good. I think.” She turned to Jason. “Monica…had to run a secondary test, though. To check out one of my results—” God, why was she stalling?

“Is everything okay?” Jason asked, his voice sharpening. “Elizabeth—”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just…” She sat on the sofa, to stop herself from pacing. “I guess it’s just…I don’t know. I’m pregnant.”

“Preg—” Jason closed his mouth and sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. “How—what—”

“Turns out the condoms we use are from ELQ, and Monica said they’re going to recall them for…you know, not actually doing their job—” Elizabeth twisted her fingers together. “It’s yours—”

Of course it’s mine,” Jason said with an irritated frown. “Why—” He exhaled slowly. “Right. Because you were drugged and not sure—but they would have known in the hospital in July.” He exhaled slowly. “Okay. What…what does that mean? I remember from Carly’s pregnancy that one of the possible side effects—”

“Long story short is that I’m already at risk for another PE. Pregnancy makes that risk higher, but Monica said she didn’t know exactly how high. And she said there was…other issues. My recovery was long and I had heart issues…” Elizabeth shook her head. “She didn’t say it, but I think she was a lot more concerned than she let on.”

“Yeah.” Jason took a deep breath. “What…does she think—” he swallowed hard. “I mean, what do you think—” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That makes two of us. Monica said we should make an appointment with an OB/GYN who specializes in high-risk pregnancies.” Elizabeth watched as he pushed himself off the coffee table and started to pace. “She said, um, she—”

“High-risk pregnancy,” Jason repeated. He dragged his hands through his hair before letting his hands, still laced together, rest at the back of his neck. “Elizabeth—”

“She didn’t say it was too soon after what happened,” Elizabeth offered as she got to her feet. “But she also said if we’d wanted to plan it, she’d have recommended a year. Not…two months.” Her eyes burned. “You’re mad.”

“Mad—” Jason’s hands fell at his side as he crossed back to her and drew her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m not—I’m not doing this right. I’m not mad. Why would I be mad? We didn’t plan this. We were careful.” He edged away from her slightly, to frame her face with his hands. “Listen. I’m not mad,” he repeated. “I’m…worried.”

“Me, too.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “We talked about this. We both agreed we wanted children.”

“Yeah, but—” Jason closed his mouth. “Whatever you decide, Elizabeth. I’ll support you.”

“But what do you want?” she asked, covering his hands with her own. “Jason—”

“I want you,” he told her. “And I want you to be happy. At the end of the day…” he swallowed hard. “That’s all that matters.”

“But…” She bit her lip. “I’ll guess we’ll wait for Monica to recommend an OB and see what they say, right?”

“Right.”

She wanted desperately to ask him if he was even a little bit happy about having a baby with her, but she was afraid of what he’d say. Whatever she decided, Jason had told her. She hadn’t even realized a decision was on the table. Did Jason want her to get an abortion?

Did she want an abortion?

But she couldn’t ask him that. He would never tell her what he thought—after all—he’d support whatever decision she made.

But supporting a decision and living with it were two different things.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and tried to smile. “I’m not in the mood to make dinner. How about we order some Chinese?”

September 26, 2019

This entry is part 17 of 31 in the All of Me

‘Cause we break
And we burn
And we turn it inside out
To take it back
To the start
And through the rise and falling apart
We discover who we are
Who We Are, Lifehouse


Saturday, July 26, 2003

 Port Charles Municipal Building: Scott’s Office

Scott scowled down at the report from the special master who had emailed his preliminary decision regarding the medical records Ric Lansing had subpoenaed. He’d completed reviewing Elizabeth’s files, and—

He looked up as Kelsey, dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt, knocked on his open desk door. “What are you doing here? You’re young. Go have a life. Go call Lucky Spencer.”

His ADA smirked at him. “I was wondering when you’d bring that up. Did his aunt tell you?”

“She said you came to dinner.” And Bobbie had been very effusive in her praise of Kelsey dating her nephew, suggesting that Lucky hadn’t been this happy in a few years. “She liked you.”

“I liked her. As for why I’m here today—I had a meeting with Taggert to catch me up on the park rapist.” Kelsey tilted her head. “Why are you here? Don’t you have Serena this week?”

“Next week,” Scott said. “And she’s too old to be hanging out with her dad during the day. I got the special master’s report back last night—would you believe this asshole thinks all of Elizabeth’s medical records should be open to the defense?”

“Transparency,” Kelsey offered with a shrug. “How many cases do you see get nailed because a prosecutor held something back? He’s probably just erring on the side of caution. And so what? If Elizabeth Webber was traumatized—”

“It’s just crap,” Scott muttered. “Sure, she got her protection order, but she also gets to know her psycho ex has access to her therapy sessions and just based on Gail’s notes, they’re going deep and working through a lot that’s not relevant. Even if he can’t bring it up at trial—”

“He gets to know it. Well, maybe that will help her make up her mind about going to trial.” Kelsey took a seat at Scott’s conference table. “Listen, not that I want to give you any more bad news—”

“Oh, hell.” Scott shoved the special master’s report aside. “What now?”

“You remember when you said something was off in the way Mac was counting open cases? We had nine in cold storage, four open, but Mac said there was fourteen.”

Scott pursed her lips. “He wasn’t wrong, was he? Was there another case?”

“Yeah, but it’s…not good news.” Kelsey took out her notepad. “Elizabeth Webber.”

“Oh, man. Oh, no. Don’t tell me the PCPD screwed up her rape case. This is not something I need in my life. This is not something that she needs either.” Scott buried his face in his hands and moaned. “Give it to me, Kelse. All the bad news.”

“Well, according to her file, Elizabeth was attacked in the park on February 14, 1998. She was sixteen, which meant the statute of limitations didn’t start until she turned eighteen in 1999. She was raped at the same fountain as Brooke, but her injuries were much less severe, and a friend took her home. She didn’t report right away—even took a shower. But someone convinced her to do a rape kit at Mercy Hospital where pictures were taken, and she turned over the dress she’d been wearing that night.”

“Okay. So…?”

“She finally made a statement to the police a few weeks later, sometime in March. Alejandro Garcia and Dara Jenson took the statement, but there wasn’t anywhere to go. Couldn’t send the dress for testing with no suspect, and according to Garcia’s notes, she didn’t remember a lot of details. Some minor things came back to her over the next few months — he’d smelled like soap…and…” Kelsey waited for Scott to look at him. “He only spoke three words to her.”

“Oh, hell. ‘Not a word.’ The same thing Brooke Ashton said.”

“Yeah. Garcia left the PCPD, but Taggert took over. He did some work, but nowhere to go. Until Emily Quartermaine and Elizabeth get held hostage by Tom Baker. Apparently, Elizabeth said Tom Baker admitted to raping to her while they were alone, but he later denied it. He went to trial on the charges in the blackmailing and kidnapping case, but Elizabeth had an outcry—”

“I remember all of this, but what happened to the rape kit—” Scott leaned forward. “Once Baker was a suspect, they must have sent it over—”

“That’s the part where Taggert is getting a little squirrely. Because that’s what our records show. Around Christmas of 1998, Dara Jenson marked into the DA’s file that a rape kit was returned from the lab with no profile or anything else. The same report exists in the PCPD’s file…but…”

“Kelsey—”

“Taggert never saw the report. And he said he was told in November that the kit had come back negative and that the case needed to be made inactive. He fought it, according to him, but eventually agreed. He said he walked the case to cold storage and listed it as an open, but inactive investigation.”  Kelsey rubbed the back of her neck. “Tom Baker pleaded to avoid a mistrial on the rape outcry and a retrial. He’s in prison now, but up for parole in December.”

“Wait…” Scott held up his hands. “Taggert was told in November the kit was sent back negative, but the report we have is from December?” He frowned. “After Elizabeth went public, accusing Baker?”

“Yeah, he noticed that, too. He said he was told a report would be sent over and Mac would take care of the filing. Taggert said he didn’t send the rookies down to get that case, specifically, but Lucky Spencer—”

“Knows Elizabeth. He was the friend who brought her home, right? I remember they were dating when he got…” Scott sighed. “So, Mac faked a report? Why?”

“He also officially listed her case as solved and the box ended up in closed archives. Spencer noticed it when they pulled the other nine—hers was missing from cold storage.”

“I—” Scott stared at her. “That doesn’t make any damn sense. Her case had a suspect, but he wasn’t convicted—”

“Yeah, Lucky pulled it out of the archives himself. He and the rookies went down there a few days ago to look for similar cases. And Lucky knew the details of her case, so he was looking for her case. When he gave Mac the list of cases to reopen, Mac only sent the first two. He didn’t include Elizabeth’s.”

He hesitated. “He didn’t include it—”

“Taggert told me Mac gave him some sort of excuse about how Elizabeth’s case didn’t have physical evidence and, because of Baker, might have reasonable doubt. But that doesn’t explain why the lab says they have no record her kit was ever sent to them and the dress itself doesn’t have any notation it was sent anywhere.”  Kelsey shook her head. “Taggert doesn’t want to call it a cover-up, but either it’s a massive screw up—”

“Or someone wanted her case to disappear.” Scott let his head fall to the surface of the table with a loud thud. “Of all the cases in all the world, Floyd and Mac had to fuck up Elizabeth Webber’s. A young woman we narrowly avoided getting killed this summer. Fan-fucking-tastic. I quit.”

“He sent her kit over with the other nine to the lab.” Kelsey waited to continue speaking until Scott had gathered himself. “I also filed a court order to get Baker’s DNA tested. Elizabeth’s profile matches the other rapes, so I want to exclude him. But I don’t know what to do with all the rest of it. Baker was in jail for the rest of the attacks.”

“Let’s…” Scott took a deep breath. “Okay. When can we expect the DNA on all seven cases to come back?”

“I put a rush order on all of them, but I moved Webber to the top of the list. Maybe the first week of September.”

“Okay,” he repeated. “Tell Taggert to keep investigating, but let’s keep a lid on the case. If her case doesn’t have DNA, we can’t do anything with it anyway. And if she’s believed the right guy is in jail and has been all along, I am in no hurry to bring that trauma up. Not after what she’s been through.”

Not after the horrifying notes Gail had made about Ric Lansing drugging her to have sex. The last thing Elizabeth Webber needed to think was her first rapist was on the loose, too. Motherfucker.

“Scott-”

“I want to have all my ducks in a row before I accuse the commissioner and Floyd—because he’s damn well involved—of covering up the rape of a teenaged girl.” He swallowed hard. “Because that’s not the Mac Scorpio I’ve known for a decade. He has stepdaughters he’s raised practically since birth. He adores them. I can see holding off on a public warning, but actively covering up for another rapist—there has to be a reason.”

“Maybe,” Kelsey said. She sighed. “Lucky and I decided we’d bring this to you because we’ve only been here five minutes, and I think Taggert will probably go along with it but promise me…promise me we’re not going to let this slide. This is…this is sickening. This case, from the start, has been screwed up, but to know it goes so far back—” She shook her head. “I can’t deal with it.”

“I don’t care if I have to broadcast the news myself. If I can prove the PCPD and the mayor’s office covered up a rapist who was then allowed to continue operating, leading to six more rapes and the death of a young girl—I’ll burn this city to the ground.”

Monday, July 28, 2003

 General Hospital: Gail Baldwin’s Office

Elizabeth sat on Gail’s sofa with a smile on her face. “You’ll be happy to hear that I just had my check up with Monica and she said everything looks great.”

“Really?” Gail asked as she set her notebook in her lap. “Your scans are still good?”

“Not a clot in sight. I’ll still have to be careful about exertion because I still get winded easily, but she said that should really start to subside as long as I stick to the physical therapy regimen.” She smirked and rolled her eyes. “And once Jason gets his hand on it, there’s no chance I’ll slack off.”

“He’s still taking your health more seriously than you I see,” Gail said, and Elizabeth winced at the admonition in her therapist’s voice.

“We haven’t argued about it since last week, but yes, Jason is a little more…” She hesitated. “Obsessed with it than I am. He’s been better, though and we’ve been…” Her cheeks flushed. “We went out of town Saturday night. Just overnight to a place he knows in the Adirondacks, not that far away. But we’re…we’re okay in that area, too. As long as he knows where the oxygen mask is.”

“Sounds romantic,” Gail quipped, and Elizabeth managed a short laugh. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“You mean, do I love the fact that the two or three times we’ve been intimate since last week, he stops everything to make sure the mask is within reach if I need it—” She grimaced. “It would, except I needed it on Saturday night, and it was right there. So, no panic attack. No hyperventilating. No embarrassing check up with my boyfriend’s mother in the middle of the night.” She shrugged. “Seems like an even trade. I get Jason, and he gets to make sure I’m alive.”

“I have to say…considering your hearing on Friday, you seem remarkably upbeat. You received my message about the special master?” Gail asked. “I’m so very sorry—”

“You have a court order, Gail. And, no, I’m not surprised Ric is trying anything he can to mess with my credibility. But what is he going to learn from those notes? That I had a damaged view of myself last year? That I thought so little of myself that Ric seemed like the best option?”

Elizabeth sighed, some of her cheer fading. “How does that change the medical reports or Carly’s testimony? I hate that he’s going to have an open window into my relationship with Jason, but you know? It’s more important that I get this right, with Jason, I mean. To understand why I did the things I did last year—to be able to think clearly and make good choices.”

She crossed her legs at the ankle. “I had a run-in with Courtney last week—we talked about that, remember?”

“Yes.”

“And…I remember trying to explain to Jason how knowing he’d gone to the Quartermaines and the police when I was kidnapped—how that would have helped me understand him more last summer. He’s so contained, Gail. I mean, he’s better than he was, but he still keeps so much locked away. And all I could see was him leaving me. Every time he had the chance, he left me to go to someone else…and…”

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Somewhere along the way…I decided it was difficult to love me, and that most of the time, people didn’t think I was worth the effort. That’s why…they left. Or forgot me. Or moved on. I thought…there’s something inside of me that makes it impossible for someone to promise forever and mean it.”

“Do you still think it?” Gail asked.

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth chewed her bottom lip. “I know I felt that way when I had the miscarriage. I think that’s what made losing the baby so much worse. I thought…I thought I would be a good mother. That I would love my child and give them the unconditional love I never had. And you know, it’s horrible to think this way…but with my baby, I wouldn’t be alone anymore. That I would just have someone who would love me just for…just for what I was.” She met Gail’s eyes. “That’s too much pressure for a baby, I guess.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it wrong.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I just…I made so many choices out of fear of being alone, but I guess I never thought about why I didn’t want to be alone. Why was I so desperate for Lucky to love me? For Jason to put me first? For Ric to give up his vendetta against Sonny? Why would I have…ignored all my instincts and stay when my feelings weren’t there. I agreed to marry Lucky and Ric, and I didn’t really love either of them.” She shrugged. “And you know…I did it because they were going to stay. And God, I guess…that was…I guess I was measuring love by whether someone stuck.”

Elizabeth looked out the window. “I should have found another way to measure it, I guess. It should be more than someone who doesn’t go away.”

“What should it be?”

“It should be…” She hesitated. “Someone who comes back. Who…doesn’t know what you’re thinking, but I guess, but can understand why you think it. Someone who…” she managed a half smile. “Who can cook but eats out because you can’t. Or will let you struggle with something he could do in five minutes because you’re trying to make a point and he respects you. Who watches movies even though he hates it because he knows you like cuddling on the sofa. Who compromises by making sure there’s an oxygen mask because he gets how important it is for you to feel normal and in love when he’d rather wrap you in cotton and keep the world away.”

Another tear slid down her cheek. “Someone who’s honest even when it hurts. Who doesn’t stay because he has nowhere else to go but because there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.” She looked at Gail. “It’s not hard to love me, is it? Jason’s shown me for years what it was supposed to be. I just didn’t know what I was looking at.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac paced his office, checked his watch, and swore when Floyd arrived, ten minutes later than their scheduled meeting time. “You know, you could return a few phone calls—”

“What’s so important that you’ve been badgering my secretary for the last week?” the mayor demanded, folding his arms across his chest. “I thought we agreed that I should make fewer visits—”

“Taggert sent officers down to cold storage to look at open cases, looking for a link to this guy.” Mac dragged both hands through his curly hair. “And he sent Spencer who damn well knew that the Webber case was supposed to be there.”

“So, it’s a mistake.” Floyd shrugged. “Her case was considered unofficially solved. Taggert knows that—”

“Dara Jensen called me this morning to ask why Scott Baldwin is asking her about the Webber case and if it was routine for her to check in lab reports a month after they were received.”

Floyd grimaced. “I knew we should have back dated that report to November.” He leaned against the table. “So?”

“So, Taggert sent the rape kit over for testing because he says it was never processed in the first place. I played it off like it was a mistake, but…” Mac shook his head. “You’re going to blame this all on me?”

“Should it come out?” Floyd lifted his brows. “Of course. That’s the deal. Now if it comes back at me, I can throw Edward Quartermaine under the bus. He’s committed so many atrocities against his own family, I highly doubt they’d think was beneath him. You’re worried about this too much. There are only three days left to file paperwork to run against me. By the end of the week, I’ll be officially running unopposed.”

“And how does that help me?” Mac demanded. “Look, maybe I should just come clean. I should resign.” He took a deep breath.  “That’s the right thing to do. I wanted to do it after Brooke, but maybe I’ve just been on borrowed time.”

“You told me Baker was the guy,” Floyd hissed, stabbing a finger at him. “You told me that he confessed. That you believed the Webber girl when she said he confessed. Do you think for one minute either one of us would have falsified that report and closed her case if we’d thought he was still out there?”

“I know I wouldn’t have,” Mac said, with a lift of his chin. “But this guy—the cases are too similar—”

“What purpose does it serve for you to come clean and resign?” With a firm shake of his head, Floyd rejected that premise. “Listen to me, you feel guilty, fine. You think the guy got away, fine. Make it right. Find the guy.”

Mac scowled but the mayor just left. Even if he found the guy, even if they were able to put him away for what he’d done to these women, if it was true that Mac had made Elizabeth’s case go away and left the real rapist out on the streets…

There was no making it right. He’d be handing in his badge one way or another. As soon as this case was closed.

This city deserved a better commissioner, and he hoped like hell a better man than Floyd ran for mayor.

Quartermaine Estate: Poolside

 Dillon scowled down at the computer and deleted the entire chunk of text he’d just typed. Nothing he’d worked on in the last week had been worth keeping, and just like every other screenplay he’d tried to create, this one would go in the trash.

He wanted to get away from everything, had told Reginald that, barring an emergency, no one needed to know where he was.

But better men than Reginald had fallen under the spell of a pretty girl, so Dillon was unsurprised when Georgie turned the corner around a hedge and offered him a sheepish wave. They hadn’t spoken since Brooke’s memorial the week before, and Dillon was okay with that. More okay than maybe he would have been considering they’d been dating for a few months.

But maybe she was here to ask for forgiveness, to apologize for defending her stepfather only days after Brooke had taken her own life. And Dillon could understand if Georgie had lashed out in loyalty. Her fierce devotion to people was one of his favorite things.

“Hey,” she said, taking a seat in the lounge chair across from him. “I always forget this is back here.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of the appeal. I’m the only one who uses it. Emily’s usually too busy.” Brooke had used it a few times, but he left that unspoken.

“When did you guys get back from New York?” Georgie asked.

“I drove back up with Alan on Saturday. Ned and Grandfather stayed until today to go over some business stuff, I think.” Dillon eyed her. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I just…I felt so awful about how we left things last week,” Georgie said. She sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that about Brooke. And of course, you blame everyone. I blame myself, too. We should have been nicer to her. Done more for her after, I don’t know. But…”

And she’d been doing so well. “Georgie, please don’t tell me you came over to plead your stepfather’s case again—”

“I’m not, not really. I just—” She shook her head. “I just thought with some time to calm down, you’d see that blaming someone and them actually being responsible are different. I know Mac didn’t do everything right—”

“He didn’t do anything right—” he bit off the rest of protest and shook his head violently. He closed his laptop, set it on the table next to him before getting to his feet. “I can’t believe you’re doing this again. Georgie, Brooke is dead.”

“And Mac isn’t—”

“I don’t know if she meant to take all those pills or if it was an accident, but either way, she had those pills because some asshole raped her and beat her within an inch of her life. He violated her, and your stepfather—he knew the park was being targeted. He took the time to warn his own kids but said fuck it to everyone else.” Dillon clenched his fists at his side. “So, if you don’t understand why the hell I think Mac should be fired—at the very least—then I don’t think we have anything else to say to each other.”

“Fine!” Georgie threw up her hands and whirled around to find Ned standing just inside the fence that surrounded the pool. “Um—”

“Don’t bother with condolences,” Ned said coolly, “or allow me to interrupt your storming out.”

Georgie’s face was bright red as she rushed past by Ned and fled.

“I’m sorry,” Dillon said, sinking back onto the pool lounger. “You don’t need to be hearing that shit.”

“She’s young,” Ned said after a moment. He sat on the lounger Georgie had vacated. “And she loves Mac. She’ll come around.”

“Yeah, but I think the part where we date is done now.” Dillon grimaced. “I didn’t realize you and Grandfather were back.”

“Just a little while ago. We, ah, stayed in the city for a meeting.” Ned hesitated. “We were hiring a campaign manager.”

“Oh, yeah, you found someone to run against the dick?” Dillon asked as he slid his laptop into his bag. “Who?”

“Me,” Ned admitted. “We filed notice on the way home. It’s surprisingly easy to get listed on the ballot run as an independent.”

“You?” Dillon repeated. “I didn’t see that coming—but I guess that’s good.” He hesitated. “But it means the press will be talking about Brooke all the time—”

“Which means they can’t forget about her case,” Ned said. “But yeah, it’ll be hard. I talked to Lois. She’s okay with it.” He studied his younger brother. “What do you think?”

“I think anyone is better than Floyd, even a Quartermaine,” Dillon said, only half-joking. He was relieved, and more than a little pleased, to see Ned laugh.

Maybe they’d be okay after all.

Condo: Bedroom

Elizabeth was already sitting up in bed, sketching, when she heard the front door open. Jason hadn’t promised to come by that night—only said he’d try to but there was a lot of work at the warehouse. But he was here.

When he appeared in the doorway, she smiled at him. “Hey. You look beat.”

“Yeah, it was a long day.”

She watched as he stripped down to his briefs and tossed his jeans and t-shirt into a duffel bag he kept in the corner of the room. “I cleared out part of the dresser.”

Jason turned to look at her. “What?”

Her cheeks were hot as she continued. “If you…wanted to keep clothes here. I could…um…wash them when I do mine.” Elizabeth bit her lip as he continued to stare at her. “I mean, it seems kind of crazy for you to keep going back and forth. You could just…keep them here.”

He sat on her side of the bed and she crossed her legs, moving into a sitting position to give him room. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, I mean…I know we haven’t really talked about it before…” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I got my all-clear from Monica, so we’re fine on that front, but I also…I had kind of a breakthrough with Gail today. Something she said we’ve been working towards for the last few weeks, and it’s just…encouraged me to make sure I’m taking charge. Creating the life I want.”

Jason hesitated. “Okay—”

“When we talked about last summer, I said I had this thing about staying, but I didn’t want to get into it. The thing is…I needed to get into it. I needed to understand why I doubted you last year. Why I doubted myself. And why I keep making decisions out of fear.”

“You’ve been through a lot—”

“I have, but it’s not why.” She took his hand in hers, tracing the lines on his skin, the rough calluses on his fingers. “People tend to have a hard time loving me.” When he scowled, she added, “And I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about my parents. My sister. My brother. My grandmother. Even Lucky at first. And they all…left me. So somewhere along the line…I decided it was me. That I should work harder to make people stay. To make them love me.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “Okay.”

“Knowing that doesn’t really fix anything, but it does…I can step outside of myself and see it. I look at you…and even after everything we’ve been through…sometimes I think there’s no reason you’ll stay. No reason to believe I can make you happy.” She took a deep breath. “But I don’t feel that way all the time. Most of the time, I can shut the voices up. It’s just…it’s hard for me to trust that I can do this. That we can make this work.”

“Elizabeth…”

“But the only way for me to get over it is to just…” Elizabeth shrugged. “Is to just do it. I’ve been scared to ask you about what’s next. What you want from me. What you want from us. And I keep hoping you’ll do it first, but I think you haven’t brought it up because maybe you’re just as scared as I am.”

“For a long time,” Jason began, looking down at their intertwined hands. “I didn’t think about the future. I didn’t really know what to do with the idea of one. I didn’t have a past, I couldn’t think past the moment. And, you know, Robin felt the same way. She didn’t really think of herself as having a future even though she planned for one.” He looked up, met her eyes. “But I want to think about it. With you.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “So, I’m going to start by being honest with you about what I want. And if it’s not what you want, you need to tell me that, okay?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

She bit her lip and looked down at their joined hands. “I want you to keep your clothes here. I mean, I guess you can keep your room at Jake’s if you want, but I want you to be here at night. And when you want us to, we can go to the penthouse. And maybe you can teach me to cook so we stop spending all our money on takeout.” She peeked up at him to find him smiling. “How are we doing so far?”

“All good things. I can bring over my stuff tomorrow—”

“Okay, good. Because I…I want children.”

His smile slipped just a bit as his eyes widened. “What?”

“Not now,” Elizabeth said immediately. “I mean, I said Monica gave me all the clear, but I still have physical therapy to deal with and I need to figure out what kind of career I’m gonna have, but…I want a family, Jason. And that’s going to be a deal breaker.” Her heart was pounding as she continued. “I don’t want to hear in a year or two that it’s too dangerous and we have to stop—”

“It’s never going to be perfect,” Jason cut in. “And I can’t promise you one hundred percent safety, but I won’t walk away from you because of it. And I would never walk away from a child. Which…” He nodded. “Yeah, I want that, too. When you want it. When you’re ready.”

“Okay.” She just stared at him. “Really?”

“Really.” He leaned forward and kissed her, sliding his hands through her hair, then framing her face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she murmured as she drew him back against the pillows, parting her legs so he could settle between them. “And before you ask…I already set out the oxygen mask.”

He laughed and reached over to switch off the light.

September 23, 2019

This entry is part 16 of 31 in the All of Me

I’m tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface
I don’t know what you’re expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow
Every step that I take is another mistake to you
Numb, Linkin Park


Friday, July 25, 2003

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Bobbie stirred sugar into her coffee and grimaced as she looked at her watch. “Elizabeth’s hearing starts in two hours. I wonder if she’ll change her mind.”

“She seemed pretty sure when she called yesterday.” Carly sighed. “She feels the same way I do about the trial, Mama. She told me that she and Jason talked about it, and we’re on the same page.”

“And Sonny is the odd man out,” Bobbie said, with a lift of her brows. “Well, he’s never been one to trust the police. I’m surprised Jason is going along with it—but—” She pursed her lips. “Maybe not. If Elizabeth said this is what she needs—”

“I knew he’d listen to her on this. Just like I know he’d have agreed to it if it was just me. It’s just…” Carly shook her head. “I understand why Sonny…I get it. But I’m kind of tired of this attitude he has—Courtney has a little bit of it, too. This—I get how awful that week must have been for the people looking for me. I mean, I watched Elizabeth and Jason—I watched you when you came over. And I know Sonny had a breakdown. I know all of that, but at the same time—is it wrong to be angry that everyone is treating my trauma like it happened to them personally?”

“No—”

“I mean, I’m in the hospital, barely recovering, and Courtney wants to know if I could see any evidence of an affair on the monitors. And Sonny keeps talking about how they all went through it, but I’m sorry, Mama —” She bit her lip. “And maybe I’m starting to get why you wanted him to talk to someone.”

“I just…I wonder how much more could have been accomplished if Sonny had been involved. If he’d been another set of eyes. I mean, what Nikolas suggested about a panic room—that shouldn’t have been brand-new information to us. It shouldn’t have taken us until Friday to talk to Ned and learn about Faith and Ric. But Elizabeth had her overdose less than twelve hours after you went missing. She nearly died, Carly. And after that—”

“She became someone else Jason had to worry about.” Carly said, with a sigh. “She refused to leave which ended up being the right call, but—” She shook her head. “I just…I want this to be over, and part of me wants Sonny to just…make a call and end it. To make it over tonight. It’d be so easy and—” Tears stung her as she looked away from her mother. “To be able to lie my head down tonight and know he wasn’t in the world anymore—it’s disgusting how much he hangs over me and he’s not even in the zip code.”

“But you still want to testify.”

“I think—and knowing Kevin, he’d agree—that maybe I’m still processing the worst of it. I said it out loud to Sonny the other day and had a panic attack about ten minutes later. And no, I didn’t tell you when I got to your place that night, Mama, because I knew you’d worry. I had the guard drive me around for a while.”

“Carly—”

“Ric was going to kill me. He was going to keep me in that room for as long as he could, then kill me and take my baby to give to Elizabeth. And if Michael hadn’t seen him, if Jason and Sonny hadn’t gone to the house that night and found Elizabeth drugged up—”

“It haunts me how close we came to losing you, Carly.” Bobbie swallowed hard. “It was easier for Elizabeth to believe what happened because we were there, telling her she was drugged. And Ric only doubled her dose because he doubted her. But if she hadn’t believed, if Michael hadn’t seen you—”

“I might have been in there for weeks,” Carly murmured. “Longer. Maybe Ric would have been able to move me. And it’s hard to admit how close it all was. How if one thing had been different, I might still be gone.” She sighed. “I think I need to look him in the face, Mama, so I can put it away. I need to be the reason he’s gone. I need to be part of it. And I need to know that he’s rotting away, dying in a cell, just the way I nearly did. So yeah, as easy as it would be to just tell Sonny to hell with everything else, end it tonight—it wouldn’t stop the nightmares. It wouldn’t stop the panic attacks.”

She picked up her fork to stab at her omelet. “And if Sonny doesn’t understand that, then I don’t know where that leaves us. Because if he gives the order—”

“Will Jason allow it?” Bobbie finished. “I hope we won’t have to find out.”

Warehouse: Sonny’s Office

 “I don’t know what the hell Carly is thinking,” Sonny said as he paced the confines of his office. He turned back to Jason who remained sitting quietly in his seat. “Doesn’t she get how weak this makes me look—”

“To who?” Jason asked, interrupting him. He’d listened to Sonny complain about Carly’s decision to testify and her request that Ric be allowed to rot away in prison. He hadn’t been surprised to learn Carly’s wishes aligned with Elizabeth—in a lot of ways, the two of them were similar though he’d probably be risking his life if he told either of them that.

And he couldn’t understand why Sonny was turning Carly’s reasonable request into some sort of betrayal. He wanted Ric wiped from the face of the Earth, too, but as long as he was sent to prison, away from Elizabeth and Carly, Jason could live with not actually seeing him dead.

If he ever got out—if he were a free man—well, that was a different situation entirely.

“Zacchara? Ruiz?” Sonny sneered. “They’re going to think I’m weak, that I can’t handle my business—”

“And they’d be right, wouldn’t they?” Jason said, irritated for having let Elizabeth head to the courthouse without him because Sonny wanted to have a meeting. Once again, he hadn’t been there for her because of Sonny. He promised himself this would be the last time.

“What the hell does that mean—”

“It means you should have taken Ric out back and shot him months ago,” Jason shot back. “When you learned about the shit he did to Carly. When he kidnapped Courtney. When he tried to kill you. He shouldn’t have been breathing long enough to get to Carly again, to put a hand on Elizabeth. But you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t kill your mother’s son. Do you think you don’t already look weak?”

Sonny glared at him. “You think I’m a coward for letting him live?”

“I think I don’t give a damn—” Jason bit off his words. “Elizabeth wants to testify, too. And she also wants Ric to rot in prison. So that’s what going to happen—”

“If I give the order—”

“I’ll refuse it. I’m not breaking a promise to her because you need to feel strong, Sonny. And you can’t do it without me,” Jason said even as his partner opened his mouth to protest. “I’m the one with the prison connections. You wouldn’t even know who to ask.”

He exhaled slowly. “Carly went through hell. She gets to decide how this goes. Ric didn’t go after her because of who you are in business, Sonny. He did it because of your blood. It was personal. You had your chance to get rid of Ric.”

“You’d refuse a direct order—” Sonny stared at him blankly. “After everything Ric did to Elizabeth, you’d let him live—”

Jason checked the clock on the wall. He’d have to leave now if he had a prayer of making it to the hearing on time. “Look, she and I agreed — she gets to testify and if he goes to prison, he gets to rot there. If he gets acquitted, if he gets out on parole, all bets are off. I have to go, Sonny.”

“Where the hell do you have to go that’s more important?” Sonny demanded.

Jason got to his feet, impatient. “To the courthouse. Elizabeth might still have to testify, even though—”

Sonny blinked. “Testify? Wait.” He held up his hands, some color draining from his face. “Did I—what day is it? I don’t—when did the trial start? Did—”

His ire drained, Sonny sat down. “Did I lose time again? What day is it?” he repeated, his voice climbing in volume and tone.

“It’s July 25, Sonny. And it’s Elizabeth’s hearing about the restraining order. She’s not pushing hard to renew it, but the judge still might ask her to testify.” Weary now, Jason shook his head. “You need to talk to someone, Sonny. I thought after Carly was found, things would get better. But it’s not. And you’ve lost track of time before. You need—”

“I need the people in my life to do what hell the I say!” Sonny jumped back to his feet. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I have to go,” Jason repeated and then left, even as his partner sputtered in protest.

Port Charles Courthouse: Courtroom

 “Am I reading this correctly, counselor?” the judge asked as he peered at Diane Miller over the top of his glasses. “Your client has decided against testifying in today’s hearing?”

Elizabeth stared straight ahead at the judge. She hadn’t seen Ric since that terrible morning at the house almost a month earlier when she’d had to protect herself with a baseball bat, and she’d realized, just outside of the courtroom, that she wasn’t entirely ready to see him now.

But she knew she had people behind her that cared. Emily and Monica had come to give her support, while other members of the family had gone to Bensonhurst to bury Brooke. Scott and Bobbie were sitting in the front row, while Jason had taken a seat next to his sister and mother. Even Taggert and Cruz Rodriguez had shown up.

She had people behind her that cared, and that mattered.

“Your Honor, my client feels now that she has filed for divorce and moved out of the marital home, along with the fact that the defendant has moved to Crimson Point, her order is unlikely to be renewed. Putting herself through testifying would be useless.” Diane lifted her brows with a smirk. “Particularly given Your Honor’s history with the case.”

“Don’t get cute, Ms. Miller, or I’ll find you in contempt—”

“He means it, too!” Scott called out as Bobbie elbowed him. “Ow! Just giving her a warning.”

The judge ignored the outburst and looked at Elizabeth. “Mrs. Lansing—” Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest but the judge held up a hand. “I apologize. Miss Webber.” He eyed Ric’s table. “You might want to correct your legal petitions to the court, Mr. Lansing. Referring to her with a name that she never took doesn’t bode well for your case and makes me wonder if maybe Miss Webber might be better off with a formal, permanent order of protection after all.”

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped slightly as Diane scowled. “Politics,” she muttered. “The judge took a beating in the press after the way your case was handled. He’s up for re-election this year.”

“I apologize, Your Honor,” Ric said smoothly, his voice causing Elizabeth to shudder. “In my defense, I gave my…estranged wife…the necessary paperwork and she told me she had filed it.”

A lie. He’d given Elizabeth the paperwork, she’d said she’d get to it, and that had been the end of it. But it wasn’t important anymore.

“Miss Webber,” the judge began again. “Does Ms. Miller state your case correctly? Do you not intend to testify? Do you not think a protection order is warranted?”

“To be honest,” Elizabeth said, as she stood. “I didn’t intend to put myself through Ric Lansing’s cross-examination at this point because I didn’t think you’d renew the order anyway. It’s no doubt reached Mr. Lansing’s attention that I have reunited with the man I was dating before I met my estranged husband. I worried you might see my moving on as some sort of sign that I wasn’t…”  Afraid was not the right word. God, she didn’t want to admit it, but—  “That morning, when he threw me across the room, when he grabbed me, chased me—I was terrified. I knew he’d kidnapped Carly, I knew he’d drugged me. But somehow…I didn’t think he was capable of that.”

She took a deep breath. “And despite my charges of assault against him, Your Honor, you agreed to a temporary injunction that gave him power over me as I recovered from an illness he was responsible for and then kept him from being arrested for nearly killing me and kidnapping Carly Corinthos. So, with all due respect, Your Honor, I’d rather have the protection order, but I didn’t trust the system to grant it.”

The judged stared at her for a long moment with a furrowed brow, as if not sure whether to find her in contempt as he’d threatened her lawyer or just ignore her outburst. “Miss Webber, if I decide not to grant your request, you understand that Mr. Lansing will be allowed to contact you. He’s serving as his own attorney in the case you referred to.”

“And it’s my understanding that if I decline to sit for an interview with him, asking me again would count as witness harassment and intimidation,” Elizabeth said.  “Which might cause his bail to be revoked.” She looked at Ric who was almost smirking at her in return. “So, let this serve as your notice. Mr. Lansing, that it will be a cold day in hell before that happens. The next time you and I see one another will be in a court room to make sure you pay for what you did to me and to Carly.”

“Your Honor,” Ric protested. “I have every right to build the case to clear my name, and we’re in the middle of divorce proceedings. Contacting her—”

“Miss Webber, I’m granting a renewal of the protection order,” the judge said. “For an additional six months.” He banged the gavel. “Court is adjourned.”

Ric scowled, but gathered his papers, then stalked out. Taggert and Cruz got up and followed, likely to make sure he actually left the premises and didn’t hang out to wait for Elizabeth afterwards.

Elizabeth blinked and looked at Diane. “Why did that work?”

“I’m not sure…” Diane frowned as she twisted in her seat to look at Scott. “Thoughts, Scott?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Scott said with a shrug. “Maybe a few calls from some well-placed donors reminded him who the hell he was here to serve. He wants to win re-election in November, he can’t afford to annoy some people.”

“Some people?” Elizabeth repeated only to catch Emily’s eye as her best friend, Monica, and Jason joined them at the front of the court room. “Emily—”

“Grandfather was more than happy to make a few phone calls on your behalf, Liz. He’s feeling really helpless with everything that’s going on with Ned and Brooke, so this was something he could do. And Nikolas also made some calls from London.”

“I appreciate the support.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’m glad we were able to get the order renewed without Carly having to testify. I think we both only really want to do this once, you know?”

She looked at Scott, who raised his brows at her. “We haven’t—we’re still talking about it, Scott. But I know I’m leaning towards a trial.”

“We got time, Elizabeth. This was a win today.” He looked at Bobbie. “Do you want a ride home or am I still in trouble?”

“You’re always in trouble,” Bobbie muttered but she followed the district attorney out of the room. Within twenty minutes, Jason and Elizabeth were able to extract themselves from the rest of the crowd and head for the parking garage where Jason parked his SUV.

Once inside the car, Jason exhaled slowly and just sat for a moment before starting the engine.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth leaned back against the headrest, her eyes closed. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m glad the judge changed his mind and renewed the order. With any luck, six months from now, the trial will be over, and he’ll be sentenced.” She looked at Jason. “Carly and I didn’t talk long yesterday, but I got the impression Sonny is maybe less on board than you are.”

“He thinks letting Ric live makes him look weak,” Jason admitted. “But I made it clear to him — this is what you and Carly want. This is what you guys get. It’s not up to me and Sonny. This isn’t business, it’s personal and—” He hesitated. “He’s not doing well, Elizabeth. He thought the trial was today.”

“He’s still refusing to get help?”

“He came close after Carly was rescued, but…he’s been doing this for years. Crashing, getting well again, sliding towards the edge again—”

“Jason—”

“Carly and I—we’ve been good at keeping him together. We just…it’s hard right now—with Ric.”

Elizabeth bit her lip and stared out the windshield at the cement walls of the parking garage. “If letting Ric go to trial and live in prison is such an issue, if Carly changes her mind, then I—”

“No.” He shook his head. “You told me this is what you need. I’m not going to asking to you change your mind because of Sonny—”

“You’re not asking me, Jason. I’m offering. I know how scary it was for Sonny to hallucinate Lily, and I don’t want to create problems with him—”

“You’re not, Elizabeth—” He looked at her. “You told me that you hated when I put them first—”

“And you listened. That matters, Jason. But it’s important that I listen to you. So, let’s…it’s an option I’m willing to consider if Carly ends up changing her mind, okay?”

“Okay.” Jason switched on the engine. “Let’s get out of here.”

Brownstone: Front Steps

Lucky leaned against the car as he waited for Kelsey to stop scowling at her phone. “It’s good news,” he repeated. “The last thing PCPD or the DA’s office needs is Ric Lansing with the freedom to go near Elizabeth.”

“I know, I know—” Kelsey finally shoved her phone in her purse and climbed out of his car. He shut the door. “I guess I’m just—I’m nervous. This is a huge case, and Scott’s trying so hard to do the right thing. He offered them a deal to avoid testifying—”

“Yeah.” Lucky rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, well he probably feels guilty for railroading my mom—” When she shot him a dirty look, he held up his hand in surrender. “Okay. Fine. I appreciate that Baldwin has approached Elizabeth’s case with this much care, and I know my aunt is relatively happy with him.”

“Yeah.” Kelsey blew out a breath. “Your aunt.” She looked at the Brownstone. “Are you sure we need to go to dinner tonight? I mean, it’s been a long day. I’m sure your aunt is tired—”

Lucky put his arm around her shoulders and propelled towards the stairs. “Hey, are you and I serious about doing this? You still want to date me?”

“Yes.” Kelsey wrinkled her nose, looked at him. “Yes. But if I have to meet your family, you have to meet mine. My mother is coming up to see me next month, and I want you to come to dinner with us.” She stopped him before he could open the front door. “And Scott.”

“Oh, man—” Lucky grimaced. “Kelsey—”

“You don’t have to like him,” she told him. “But I think we’ve moved past the part where we declare a neutral zone, you know? He’s my boss, and he’s someone that—” She bit her lip. “He’s a connection to my father. And I miss my dad, so sometimes, I can still feel close to him because my dad really loved Scott.”

“Okay.” He kissed her forehead. “Okay. Now, c’mon, I want you to meet my Aunt Bobbie. She’s been the rock of the Spencer family for most of my life, and she’s important to me.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry in advance about my sister, though. There’s no explaining her.”

Kelsey laughed as he opened the door and gestured for her to go inside.

Brooklyn, New York

 Cerullo Home: Front Porch

 When Ned stepped out the front door, he found Lois sitting in a patio chair on the cramped porch of her family’s home. With a glass of wine in her hand, his ex-wife sat in stony silence, oblivious to the sound of conversation coming from inside.

“I wondered how long you’d last,” Lois said sourly as Ned leaned against the porch post and looked out over the streets of Bensonhurst. “Ma never really liked you after we got divorced.”

“Well, she never really believed I was good enough for you.” Ned sipped his water. “Thank you. For letting my family come.”

“Yeah, well, that was Ma and Liv’s idea. Me? I don’t want to think about Port Charles again. You and me never have to talk again.”

Ned exhaled slowly and gently sat at the top of the stairs, his back to Lois. “Fair enough. I loved you. Part of me always will. I wanted to believe I could be the man that you thought I was. Eddie Maine. The good guy who did good things for the right reasons. I wanted that life. I wanted it with you.”

“You chose not to have it with me. Don’t give me none of that bull about what’s in your blood and how you’ll never be different—”

“It’s easy to blame my family,” Ned said, cutting in almost as if Lois hadn’t spoken. “Easier to think I couldn’t escape being Edward Ashton, but you’re right. I chose to lie to you about who I was. Chose to bring you to Port Charles. Chose to break promises to you, to put my family over you. I did all of that. And I knew even as I was doing it, I was hurting you. I was arrogant. I thought you’d stay with me. You’d already forgiven me for so much, I just assumed your generosity was a bottomless well I could never drain.”

Lois sat beside him and sighed. “Yeah, well, I was sure the man I loved was buried somewhere deep inside of you. That if I could just hold on tight, show you how much I loved the good in you, you could be that man all the time.”

“Lois—”

“The thing that maybe I didn’t want to see is that it was wrong to want you to change. I mean, I knew you were the kind of guy who not only would lie about his entire identity, but also marry someone else, have an affair…” She grimaced. “Anyway—”

“I was a terrible husband and an even worse father,” Ned continued. “And I don’t blame you for not wanting to have anything to do with me again.”

“It’s—you weren’t a terrible husband and father,” Lois said after a long moment. “It’s easy to blame you,” she continued, echoing his earlier statement. “Because then I don’t have to remember I was fed up with her before I sent her away. I cut her off from NYU. I sent her far from her friends and family. And I was on board with you keeping away the car and the phone. We made those decisions together, Ned.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Looking at you, thinking of you, it reminds me that we killed her, together. We took away her freedom, her choices, and we drove her into that park. And then when she needed us, we were angry with each other. We’re responsible for her death.”

“Maybe two percent of the responsibility is with us, Lois, but I’m gonna blame the animal who did this to her. Who made her hurt so badly, who took away her security and dignity. We punished her, Lois. Maybe too harshly. But—” Ned swallowed hard. “I’m not going to sue the city. It’s not enough. I don’t want them to just pay. I want to make sure it can’t happen to another family.”

“You mean, you want to clean up the streets of Port Charles?” Lois snorted. “I’ve heard this before. I don’t think it’s possible.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But it’s time for someone to do something. Floyd put all those girls in danger for his political career. You think this is the first time he leaned on Mac to do something like this? You think this is the first cover-up?”

Lois hesitated, then sipped her wine. “Probably not. Ned—”

“I tried to find someone else. I don’t—if I run for mayor, Lois, Brooke’s case doesn’t go away. It stays on the front page. But I don’t want it—” He shook his head. “I’m not using her to get power. And people might come talk to you. If you tell me you can’t handle this, I’ll keep trying to find someone else. I have six more days before the deadline to register for the election.”

She was quiet for a long moment as the sunlight dipped below the horizon at the end of the street. The streetlights flickered on as he waited.

“Losing my little girl was the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but maybe I could live with it better if it’d been a car accident.” She finished her wine. “But the city knew the park was being stalked and didn’t even increase police presence. Floyd and anyone who went along with it—they threw our little girl away. Like she didn’t matter. And she’s not the only one. I didn’t do right by Brooke, Ned. Neither of us did. But maybe…maybe if we get someone in there who wouldn’t use it for his power—”

“Ten years ago,” she murmured. “Ten years ago, I probably would have thought you’d be the worst candidate for mayor. You were blackmailing Justus, covering up the accident, but you know…you did all of that to protect your family. Because you protect what’s yours.” She looked at him, met his eyes. “You end up as mayor, Ned, they’re all yours. Every single person. Protect them. Protect them better than we did our girl.”

He exhaled slowly, closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t have done it without your blessing, Lois.”

“Yeah, well, it’s gonna take some time before I can be in the same room with you, and that’s not because I hate you.” They got to their feet and Lois reached out to adjust his tie, smiling up at him almost like she’d done once upon a time. “She had your eyes. The way she carried herself sometimes and smiled at me—I can’t look at you and not see her. Right now…it’s too much.”

She leaned up and brushed a kiss against his lips. “But I’ll always love you and the perfect angel we created together.”

“I’ll always love you, too,” he murmured, kissing her again, remembering what he’d once discarded and taken for granted.

She stepped back and smirked at him, that gorgeous knowing look in her eyes that had always drawn him to her— “I better get back inside to Ma and the others. I’m…I’m glad you came.”

“Me, too.”

September 19, 2019

This entry is part 15 of 31 in the All of Me

Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I’m not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I’m still waiting
I’m through with doubt
There’s nothing left for me to figure out
I’ve paid a price, and I’ll keep paying
Not Ready to Make Nice, Dixie Chicks


Wednesday, July 23, 2003

Port Charles Municipal Building: Scott’s Office

Elizabeth flashed Carly a hesitant smile as she stepped into the lobby of Scott’s office and found the pregnant blonde occupying one of the other seats. Scott’s secretary told them both it would be a minute, then stepped out into the hallway.

“Do you know why Scott called us?” Elizabeth asked as she sat next to Carly. “He wouldn’t say over the phone.”

Carly grimaced, shifted in her seat. “No. Just that it was about the case. I thought maybe he wanted to go over my statement…but now that you’re here…” She bit her lip. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s more serious than that.”

God, she hoped nothing had gone wrong with the case. Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat. Her protection hearing was at the end of the week and she wasn’t convinced that the same judge that had let Ric within five feet of her medical care after the embolism would renew the protection order, much less make it permanent.

If the case went south and her protection order expired…

“Hey, sorry to make you guys wait.” Scott gestured for them to go into his office, even helping Carly get to her feet. “How are you feeling today?”

“Just tired,” Carly admitted warily as she lowered herself into a seat at Scott’s conference table. Elizabeth took the seat next to her as Scott closed the door. “What’s up? Did something go wrong with the case?”

“No. It’s moving slow, but it’s moving. We have a preliminary trial date set for November, but I might push that out or Lansing might ask to move it up. We should know in a few weeks for sure.” Scott sat across from them. “I’ve been going over the medical records and your initial statements, and well, last week it occurred it me exactly what it means for Lansing to represent himself.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Wait, would he be the one cross-examining us?”

How is that allowed? Letting the defendant near the victims?” Carly demanded. “Why wouldn’t the judge make him have someone else do it—”

“If Lansing weren’t an attorney, the judge would have assigned one to his case to advise him. I might have been able to petition for the other guy to do the questioning, but…” Scott shrugged. “I can’t take this to trial without putting you both on the stand, and you needed to know what that meant.”

Elizabeth looked at Carly, alarmed at her pasty complexion. “Carly, are you—”

“I feel sick,” she muttered, pressing her hand to her abdomen. “You mean he gets to stand in front of me and call me a liar about what he did? He gets to accuse Liz to her face, saying that it was her idea?”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “I haven’t even seen him since he was arrested the first time.” After he’d thrown her around their living room and tried to attack her over that Sun article. “But I didn’t—that means he’s probably representing himself in family court. Didn’t he have a lawyer at that first hearing? Jason said—”

“He fired him. I don’t know what Lansing is thinking, but yeah, I think maybe he is going to be do the presentation on Friday. Which means he’ll be cross-examining you about the assault and—” Scott sighed. “That’s why I asked you both to come in. We got a strong case. And Taggert took this case seriously. Even when your kidnapping veered away from Lansing, Carly, he did everything right, paperwork wise. There’s no technicalities. No corners cut.  With the two of you testifying, along with the medical evidence of your overdose and embolism, Elizabeth, I’m gonna put him away for the rest of his natural life.”

“Okay…” Carly tipped her head. “Are you just trying to reassure us?”

“The thing is…reading the statements, looking at the evidence…the two of you have been through hell. And it was bad enough when it was me and some other guy making you relive it. But I don’t know if I feel comfortable asking you to do it when Lansing is the other guy. He’s looking at twenty-five to life on two charges—the kidnapping and the attempted murder. Another ten on the assault earlier that day, Elizabeth. If he were found guilty of all three and sentenced consecutively, that’s sixty years before he gets to think about parole. But if he were to plead guilty—if we avoided a trial—”

Elizabeth blinked, looked at Carly whose eyes were wide. “But this is good publicity for you, Scott. I know how hard you’ve worked for us. I mean, you got those contempt charges when it looked like the judge might let Ric win my power of attorney—”

“Yeah, I mean, don’t you take a hit if you plead it down?” Carly asked. Her color had returned.

“Maybe,” Scott admitted. “If we go that route, I mean, it’d be nice if you two would release a statement saying we decided it together, but I just—” He shook his head. “The PCPD has done enough damage here, and my office wasn’t much better. We knew who kidnapped you that first night, Carly. We knew he was probably drugging you, Elizabeth. And we didn’t do enough. I can’t ask either of you to put your lives on hold for six more months, at best, and then let that scumbag torture you on the stand.”

“What would you offer him?” Elizabeth asked softly. “Not that—I just want to know. Because I really like the idea of him rotting away in prison.”

“Yeah, in a small cell with other people bringing him food and never seeing the light of day,” Carly muttered. “If we could swing solitary confinement, that’d be great—”

“Well, I’d open with twenty-five to life on the kidnapping and ten for assault. Basically, cut that sixty years almost in half, and see where the negotiations go from there.”

“You would drop the attempted murder charge,” Elizabeth murmured. She rubbed her chest, still remembering the pain and pressure before the embolism. “What about the overdose?”

“We have a little less evidence there without the overall murder charge.” Scott grimaced. “I don’t love it, but it’s a place to open the bargaining.”

“What’s the bottom line, then?” Carly raised her brows. “What’s the least you’d take before you walked away? If I’m giving up the idea of putting him away for sixty years, then I wanna know what we might expect—”

“I’d probably drop the negotiations if we got less than fifteen to life. I think fifteen is rock bottom, and he knows it. He’d probably accept it.”

“Fifteen years,” Elizabeth murmured. He’d be gone, out of their lives for fifteen years. Long enough to forget him, maybe. “I don’t know.”

“You know what? Let’s revisit this after the hearing on Friday.” Carly looked at Elizabeth. “I might have to testify. Your lawyer asked me to, and it’ll be…it’ll be a test run.” She looked back at Scott. “I get what you’re trying to do, Scott. And I appreciate it. Is there any other reason you might not want to go to trial? Is it just us?”

Scott pressed his lips together. “I think your mother might have told you that Lansing has subpoenaed your medical records and Elizabeth’s. Once he saw the referrals to therapists, he also asked for Kevin and Gail’s records—”

“Wait, what?” Carly demanded, leaning forward as Elizabeth’s stomach pitched. “He can’t have those—”

“I’m asking for the judge to appoint a special master to make that distinction, but…anything that goes to credibility…the thing is, Carly…”

“It wasn’t just my records he asked for,” Carly muttered, pressing a hand to her face. “Well, we’re in luck—Sonny’s never talked to a—” She scowled. “Scott, don’t tell me you’re turning over my mother’s statement—”

“She hasn’t officially made one. I’m dancing on an ethical line there because I know she’s got information that I haven’t asked for. But the last thing I want to do is piss Bobbie off or make this worse. I’m filing an injunction—Sonny was tangential at best to your rescue. The ultimate information came from the security footage and the real estate agent. The fact that Sonny called Jason isn’t important. I can call anyone else who watched that video.”

“But a deal would keep all of that off the table,” Elizabeth said slowly. She sighed. “Carly’s right. I think we should revisit this after the hearing.”

A hearing where it would be Ric questioning her instead of some random lawyer. God help them all.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Taggert stormed into Mac’s office and threw a file down on his desk. With some trepidation, Mac looked down and saw the name Webber, Elizabeth scrawled on the tab, along with a notation that the case had been closed.

“You know where that was?” Taggert demanded. “You wanna know where the rookies found this?”  He leaned over Mac’s desk, planting his hands on the edge. “Not in cold storage. In the closed archives.”

“Taggert—”

“Falconieri and Rodriguez thought it was a mistake—you know, there was a confession, maybe the cop who put away just got it wrong. I could tell Spencer didn’t buy it, and you know why? Because he knows I’m the one that put that case on the inactive list.” Taggert bared his teeth as he growled. “Because I personally walked that fucking box down to cold storage myself and put it on a shelf. What the hell happened to her case, Mac?”

Mac slowly got to his feet. “It must have been a mistake,” he said, but his voice sounded weak even to his own ears. “Taggert—”

“The dress you told me you sent to testing? It’s still in the fucking box. It wasn’t supposed to be in there. It wasn’t when I walked that box down there. It was in in the evidence locker, and what’s worse—it hasn’t been touched since we checked it into evidence in March of 1998. You falsified a lab report.” Taggert shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but—”

“I’ll look into it—”

“Spencer gave you a report with her case listed as one that should be reopened and pulled. And you edited that report before it went to the DA—you took the Webber case off the list—What the hell—”

“Her case has another suspect—it would be harder to link it—” Mac shook his head. “I was going to talk to you about it today. As for why it wasn’t in cold storage, I don’t know. I’ll look into it,” he repeated.

“Don’t bother.” Taggert grabbed the file back from Mac’s desk. “From now on, only my team comes near these cases. And I’m reopening the Webber case.” He arched a brow at his boss. “Anything you want to tell me before I dig deeper? Because if Baker isn’t the guy, and we could have known that five years ago—”

“Taggert—”

“Do you know how close we are to running out time on the statute because you didn’t process her fucking kit?” Taggert snarled. “We got five years from the date she turns eighteen. We got until November 1 this year to get, at least, a DNA profile. And the only reason we got a break is the poor kid was sixteen when the whole thing happened. If she’d been an adult, we’d be out of luck.” He shook his head. “This is bullshit.”

He stormed back out the way he’d come, and Mac sat down at his desk, staring blindly at the blotter in front of him. God help him, he’d really thought Tom Baker had raped Elizabeth Webber. He hadn’t thought they’d get any DNA running her dress since it had been turned over to the hospital several days after her rape—so he’d gone along with Floyd, thinking that it might be their best bet to make sure Baker did time for something.

But if Baker had been innocent of the rape—

If Elizabeth’s rapist had continued his rampage and raped six more girls—including Brooke Lynn—

How was Mac ever going to live with himself?

Harborview Towers: Lobby

Elizabeth kept her expression carefully blank as her elevator was boarded just before the doors closed. Courtney Matthews hesitated before crossing the threshold but eventually stepped into the elevator and then stood in the opposite corner.

She looked at the button lit up on the panel, then stared straight ahead as the doors closed and the car began its ascent. “I didn’t think Jason was staying here these days. Didn’t he take a room at Jake’s?”

Elizabeth bit her lip before answering. “He did, but he had a meeting he couldn’t take at the warehouse.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. What to say to the woman that had once been engaged to your boyfriend? Especially the woman who had been…basically jilted at the altar even though the ceremony had actually been canceled because of Carly’s kidnapping, not because Jason had left Courtney for Elizabeth.

The elevator climbed slowly to the penthouse level as Elizabeth dug her fingers tightly into the strap of her purse.

“I can’t stop being angry at you,” Courtney finally said as the elevator reached the eighth floor. “I know you weren’t having an affair before Jason broke the engagement, but I still can’t seem to make myself any less angry or not hate you. Because if you’d just…” She shook her head with a rueful laugh. “If you hadn’t believed him, if you hadn’t helped to find Carly—God, maybe he wouldn’t have been so angry with me.”

“Courtney—”

“But no. You had to go and prove how much more well-suited you are for his life than I am. I loved him, Elizabeth. That wasn’t a lie.”

“I didn’t think it was—”

“And I was humiliated when he left me. When those tabloids said he was at your house every day—you were calling him, checking in, and damn you, he looked forward to those calls—” Her voice broke as the elevator opened on their floor.

Courtney stepped off, started for Sonny and Carly’s penthouse but then whirled around to face her. “He never loved me. I get it now, but you know what should worry you, Elizabeth? How easy it was for him to lie about it. He lied to me, he lied to you, but he lied to himself—” She shook her head. “It should worry you that he could stop giving a damn about me like he flipped a switch in his head. Maybe the doctors were right—maybe he really is damaged—”

“Stop—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “You’re hurt. And none of us look great in this situation. Yes, Jason and I are together now. And yes, we’ve been together almost since you two broke up. But you were my friend and you went after him—”

“He sure didn’t run away,” Courtney snapped. “I went after him, but he didn’t seem to mind it.” She smirked. “We were sleeping together by Christmas. Did you know that?”

“Did you know he and I nearly got back together that November?” Elizabeth said softly, not even a little threatened by Courtney’s revelation. After all, hadn’t she run away from Jason? Run to Lucky? Run to Zander, to Ric?

Wasn’t Jason allowed to be lonely?

Courtney pressed her lips together.  “So, what—I was nothing more than a rebound—”

“That’s not for me to answer, Courtney. Jason and I had our problems, and we both ran from them. We’re really good at running, and we’ve been doing it for years. I’m sorry you were hurt. I know Jason cared about you—”

Courtney threw up her hands as if to ward off Elizabeth’s empathy. “Don’t bother trying to make yourself look good. He was engaged to me and that didn’t seem to bother you at all.”

“And he had broken up with you before anything happened. You know that Courtney. You know he broke up with you before you took Michael to the island. Before I got sick. And yeah, he broke up with you in part because of me, but it was because of you, too. I believed Ric had kidnapped Carly, and I believed he was drugging me. I let Jason search my home. I let him install cameras and surveillance. You called the cops who searched his home.”

“I called the cops because of Carly—”

“And that’s why Jason broke up with you. Because you don’t want to live in a world where your best friend gets kidnapped and you can’t call the police as a first choice—”

“I just—” Courtney’s voice broke. “I just thought if Jason could call the cops last year, why couldn’t I? Why was it okay for him to work with Taggert for you and not Carly?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Courtney—”

“Just save it. You’ve got all the answers, don’t you? You and Jason are this great, epic love story and people like me are just the obstacles on the road to your true love,” she spat out. “Lucky, me, Zander—we’re just roadkill.”

She spun around and slammed the penthouse door. Belatedly, Elizabeth realized that in the tiny hallway outside of the Corinthos penthouse, stood poor Max Giambetti, Sonny’s guard when the penthouse was occupied.

“Miss Webber,” Max said blandly. He carefully kept his eyes forward. “Nice to see you looking so well.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Elizabeth muttered before walking over to Jason’s penthouse.  She knocked lightly, hoping she wasn’t interrupting his meeting.

Jason pulled open the door and she bit her lip, finding Bernie, their business manager, sitting on the sofa. “Oh, hey, I thought you’d be done by now—”

“We’re just talking about regular business now,” he told her, catching her elbow as Elizabeth turned to leave. “And we’re almost done.” He kissed her, his hand sliding from her elbow to her wrist. “Your pulse is racing,” he said, drawing back, his brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

She very nearly rolled her eyes, but she accepted that it was going to take longer than three weeks for Jason to stop monitoring every little change in her health. “Yeah. It’s just been a long morning. I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“I’ll just leave these contracts here for you,” Bernie said as he slid the last of his paperwork into his briefcase. “We really were done, Miss Webber.” He got to his feet. “It’s good to see you on your feet again.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

When he’d left, Elizabeth sighed and dropped her purse on Jason’s desk. “Now I know why you never come here anymore. I ran into Courtney on the elevator.”

“I just thought it would be better if I gave her some space until she figures out what to do about…” Jason shrugged, sitting on the arm of his sofa. “I mean, your condo is good, and the security upgrade is okay but—”

“It’s not quite the bulletproof fortress this place is,” Elizabeth finished. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him again. “It’s okay. It’s awkward, and she has every right to be angry at us both. I mean, at least you didn’t actually marry a sociopath who tried to kill you.”

Jason grimaced and drew her in more closely against him. “I hate that I hurt her, but if I had gone through with it just because I didn’t want to be a bad guy or because she’s Sonny’s sister, it would have been worse.”

“She did say something interesting that I wanted to ask you about,” Elizabeth said, tilting her head to the side, her fingers playing the hair at nape of his neck. “She said she thought it would be okay to call the police because you’d worked with Taggert for me.”

Jason frowned. “Yeah. I told you about it in the hospital, remember?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “But we were talking about something else and I never really thought about it after that. I just…I wish I had known, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Jason, half the problems we had last summer was because neither one of us was being all that up front about how we felt. If I knew you’d cooperated with the police—Taggert specifically—to find me, let me tell you, I wouldn’t have had any doubts in my mind about how you felt.”

“I was desperate,” Jason admitted. “Courtney probably knows because of AJ. I went to the Quartermaines—Edward blackmailed me into dinner—”

“Cooperation with Taggert and dinner at the Quartermaines?” Elizabeth smirked. “That’s a declaration of love right there. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It didn’t seem important,” he said with a shrug. “We found you. You were alive.” And that was true—Jason wasn’t the kind of guy to broadcast anything that might put him in the position of being a hero. He’d done what he’d done to find her, and once he had, he probably hadn’t thought about it again. “Does it really matter?”

“No, but it’s nice to know.” She pressed her lips together. “That’s a lie. Yeah, it matters. Because I was a mess last summer. I thought we were going somewhere, but you kept leaving for Sonny and Carly, and then not making a move—I thought I was imagining things and I made…choices based on that. But knowing what you went through to find me—I wasn’t imagining any of it.”

“I wish I could have handled everything better. Been more honest with you.” He sighed. “But I guess I wasn’t ready to do that yet.”

“Yeah. Well, it’s not your fault I have this thing about people who stay…” She shook her head. “Anyway. I came over to tell you about my meeting with Scott.”

Jason frowned at the change in topic, but he allowed it. He straightened, and she stepped back. “What happened at the meeting? I found out after you left that Carly got called there, too.”

“Yeah, he wanted to talk to us about the case.” Elizabeth dropped onto the sofa with a huff. “Ric is going to be representing himself at the trial—and probably at the hearing on Friday.”

Jason scowled, taking a seat next to her, turning to face her slightly. “What does that mean? Why does that change the case?”

“It doesn’t, but Scott wanted to make sure Carly and I understood that a trial where Ric is his own attorney means he’ll be questioning us.”

“What? Can’t he stop that—”

“Not really. Which also means he’ll be questioning us on Friday. Scott…isn’t sure he wants to put us through that. He said the case is rock solid, but…” Elizabeth shrugged and picked at a loose thread on her jeans. “It doesn’t mean it won’t suck. Particularly since Ric subpoenaed records from Kevin and Gail. Scott’s trying to keep that access limited, but—” She looked at Jason with some trepidation. “Ric also subpoenaed Sonny’s medical records.”

Jason winced. “Well, there’s nothing to find in the records, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things Ric could do.” He hesitated. “Are you okay…with testifying?”

“Well, that’s the thing. Scott offered—he thinks if he drops the attempted murder charges, he could get Ric to plead to just the kidnapping.”

“But that’s almost your entire case,” Jason told her. “And isn’t the kidnapping only twenty-five years? That’s cutting it in half—Damn Baldwin—”

“The whole point of a plea deal is to make it attractive enough for Ric to take it. My case isn’t as solid on its own, and there’s still a chance Ric could ask for a severance. And then it’s just my medical records and Carly. Which means—”

“You’d have to testify a third time—” Jason shook his head. “So, Baldwin wants to plead it out—”

“He could probably get life without parole in a trial, Jason. Carly’s case is really strong. If it went to trial—Ric would get put away for probably the rest of his life. Baldwin isn’t asking because of the strength of the case. I honestly think he wants to spare us.”

“He’s close to Bobbie,” Jason admitted. “He never did go after us for search warrants on the warehouse—And he got himself charged with contempt over your case.” He hesitated. “Is that what you want? To avoid testifying?”

“Well, Diane isn’t really that hopeful that we’ll get the protection order renewed on Friday,” Elizabeth admitted. “I talked to her after the meeting with Scott. She thinks Ric is going to go after you. And since the judge is the same guy who gave Ric that injunction—”

“He’ll paint himself as the wronged husband with an adulterous wife who is now public with the guy from the papers.” Jason exhaled slowly. “What about Carly?”

“She said she’d testify, but honestly, Jason, I don’t know if I want to go through with testifying at the hearing at all. Ric is in Crimson Point. Carly and I are surrounded by guards. If I testify at that hearing, it’s going to be about you and me, not what Ric did to me.”

He put an arm around her and drew her in closer. “What do you want to do about the trial?”

“Diane said Ric won’t be able to use you against me the same way. Not with Carly’s case at the same time. And all of the medical experts and witnesses can testify—” She hesitated. “We’ll go to the hearing, but I’m not going to push the order hard. I want to testify at the trial, though. I want to go to trial. I mean, if Carly doesn’t want to, that’s okay with me. And we can handle it that way, but…” She took his other hand and laced their fingers together. “I know…we don’t really talk much about what’s going to happen to Ric after he’s sentenced. I mean, once he’s in jail.”

“Elizabeth—”

“But Carly and I were talking about how long he’d be in jail, and I realized…I want him to rot in prison. I want him to be locked away, in a cell.” She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “I get there may be reasons I can’t…that it can’t happen that way, but if there’s a way that it can…”

He was quiet for a long moment, but then nodded. “If that’s what you need—if that’s what Carly needs, then that’s what will happen.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“This time, I’m listening to you,” he cut in. “And if this is something you need to get past this, that’s what matters to me. How I feel about him? Not gonna change if he’s dead.” He winced, as if the blunt statement had gone too far. “Anyway—”

“Thank you,” she said. She turned slightly to slid her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny waited until after dinner had been cleaned up and they’d put Michael down to bed that night before asking Carly about her meeting. She had remained at the dinner table, going over some paperwork from the club and didn’t notice at first when he’d come down from tucking Michael in.

He pulled out the chair across from her, sat in it, but didn’t pull himself to the table, angling the chair slightly out towards the rest of the room. “Are you ready to tell me what happened in the meeting today?”

Carly looked up at him, sighed, and put down her paperwork. She didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t say anything when you got home,” Sonny continued. “What happened? It can’t be that bad, Carly. If they’d dropped the charges or anything else ridiculous, I’d know. It’d be all over the news.”

She sighed. “No, it’s not bad news. I just…I knew it would be an argument, Sonny. And I just…” Her brown eyes, so often lit with humor or mischief, were dull now. Fatigued.

“He called me…and asked Elizabeth to come in as well to…ask us how we wanted this to happen.” She grimaced. “The trial, I mean.”

Sonny tilted his head. “What do you mean? You’ll testify, Ric will go to jail.” Where he would meet with a very much deserved accident.

“Yeah, well, Scott is taking into consideration that Ric is defending himself. Which means when I testify, when Elizabeth testifies…it’s him we face. Not some lawyer I don’t know. But the man who actually…” She looked away.

Rage, always simmering beneath the surface, boiled over, but Sonny kept his face calm. His voice even. “I hadn’t…I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“I guess we hadn’t either. As bad as it will be for me, I didn’t…I didn’t spend time with Ric the way Elizabeth did,” Carly admitted. “He doesn’t know the buttons to push. He didn’t spend all those months manipulating me. He’s going to get into that courtroom and he’s going to blame it on the miscarriage, and God, Sonny, I’ve lost a child. All I can think about is her on the stand having to deal with that, and I get sick to my stomach. I don’t want to face him. I don’t want to look at him. And I don’t want Elizabeth to do it either.”

“And Baldwin is going to force you do it?” Sonny demanded. “Can’t he just find a way to do this without you?”

“He has,” Carly said. “That’s why he called us in. Ric also subpoenaed our therapist’s records.” Her eyes shifted away for a moment before returning to him.  “He suggested maybe he could plead Ric out. Avoid a trial.”

A deal would be good. Faster. Sonny could arrange for that accident by the end of the year. “Why would you think this would be an argument?”

“Because I can practically see what you’re thinking right now. A deal gets this over faster, and Ric can die in prison.”

Sonny shrugged slightly. “That’s the plan, isn’t? Trial or now. He doesn’t get to live, Carly. Kidnapping you. Locking you in the room. Nearly killing Elizabeth. We’re done with him—” He stopped. “Exactly what is it that you think is supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to think about it. But now…we asked Scott for time. To get through the hearing on Friday…but…” Carly met his eyes. “I think I have to testify, Sonny. I have to get on the stand and face him. I don’t think I’m going to get past this unless I do.”

“Okay, I can see that. I don’t like it, but I can see it. And if I know Elizabeth at all, I figure she’ll probably come to the same conclusion. Or I hope so. I think you’re right. I think it’ll be good for both of you to face that bastard. Put him behind you.” Sonny frowned. “What are we arguing about then—” He stopped. “No.”

“I also want him to rot in prison,” Carly murmured. “So that I can go see him once in a while. See him in that ugly prison clothing. Without his manicures. Without his fancy clothing. I want to see him broken. And I want to see it repeatedly. He wanted me to live in that box until I had my baby, and then he was going to kill me. I want him to live every day in a small box until he goes mad, and I want him to always remember who put him there. I want him to rot away slowly, Sonny.” She paused. “I don’t want you to do anything.”

The image she painted was seductive and he was nearly swayed. But every moment Ric was alive was a moment that son of bitch hadn’t earned. He’d signed his death warrant and leaving him alive at this point would be a sign of weakness Sonny simply couldn’t afford.

“I get why you want that,” he said slowly. “But I can’t do it. He needs to die, Carly. And I need to be the one to do it.”

“Sonny—”

“Look, this happened to you. And it happened to Elizabeth. Don’t think Jason and I don’t know that. That we don’t grieve for all we could have done to stop it. To keep you from hurting, but I promise you he wants Ric’s blood as much as I do.”

“Sonny—”

“No, no. This happened to you. And it should be about you,” Sonny agreed. “And I get that. But, damn it, Carly, I went through it, too.” And now his voice cracked. He looked away. “Not knowing if you were still alive—I—I fell apart, Carly. I know that, and this—this is how I can make it right. Jason, Bobbie, and Elizabeth ran themselves ragged trying to find you, tearing that house apart—”

While he had babbled like an idiot, hallucinating back here in the penthouse, wallowing in own self-pity. No—this was his chance to finally do something right. Something he should have done months ago when Ric had showed his true colors. He’d let the bastard live to torture his family.

He pushed away from the table, stood. “This happened to you, and it happened to Elizabeth. But we went through it, too. Testify. Face the demons. We can talk about how long I’ll wait. A year, two. You can visit him, see him begin to rot. But that’s all I can give you.”

Carly exhaled slowly. Also stood. “I would never pretend that you and Jason, that my mother and Courtney—that there wasn’t suffering. Worry. Terror. I get that. But you were all bystanders. Collateral damage.”

She picked up her purse, looped the strap over her shoulder and edged around the table, away from Sonny. Toward the door.

“I don’t know what Elizabeth wants to do,” Carly said. “And that’s something she and I will decide, but you know what? She and I will decide, and I can promise you, Sonny, that when Elizabeth tells Jason how she wants to handle it, he’ll listen to her. That’s how much he loves her. I just wish I could say the same.”

“Damn it, Carly—”

“I’m going to talk to my mother. We’ll—” Carly stopped at the door. “You’re angry now,” she said gently. “And the thought of letting Ric rot in prison probably never crossed your mind. So, we’ll talk about this later.”

“Wait—”

But she had already slipped out the door, and to be quite honest, Sonny wasn’t sure what he would have said if she’d turned back.

September 16, 2019

This entry is part 14 of 31 in the All of Me

I guess it’s gonna break me down
Like fallin’ when I’m try to fly
It’s sad but sometimes
Moving on with the rest of your life
Starts with goodbye
Starts With Goodbye, Carrie Underwood


Tuesday, July 22, 2003

Condo: Bedroom

Elizabeth gasped for air as she could faintly hear Jason shouting her name. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to fit the oxygen mask over her face. His hands brushed hers aside as he fitted the mask, then switched on her tank. It didn’t work. She couldn’t draw in a full breath. The pressure in her chest grew like someone was squeezing her lungs with their fist—

What had Monica said? Tears stung at her eyes as she tried to pull air in through the mask. She couldn’t remember. Spots swam in front of her eyes.

Jason had flung himself out of bed and was kneeling in front of her. He was saying something, but she couldn’t make it out—

“Look at me,” Jason said, his voice rough, panicked. “Hey. C’mon—” He swore as her breathing remained shallow and rapid. He crossed the room and dug his phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling 911—”

“No—” she gasped. “No. Not again—” Some of the pressure finally started to ease and she was able to take a full breath for the first time.

She pressed a fist to her chest, a sob of relief escaping her lips and causing her mask to fog up. She took another full breath. Then a third.

When she felt like she had it under control, she lifted the mask from her face. “I’m okay.” But she felt exhausted, pressed her hands to her face. “I’m sorry.”

A lamp next to her bed switched on, then Jason handed her a robe that had been hanging from the back of her door. He pulled on his briefs and sat next to her. “You had an oxygen tank,” he said flatly. “Why? I thought Monica gave you the all clear at your last follow up—”

Feeling weary, Elizabeth sighed and stood. She swayed slightly but righted herself.  “I need something to drink,” she murmured. She brushed off his hands as he tried to keep her seated. “I need to move, Jason. Monica said moving would help—”

“Elizabeth—”

But he said nothing else, just followed her out of the bedroom into her small kitchen and waited as she poured herself a glass of water and sipped it, feeling the cool liquid soothe her sore throat. “I’m sorry,” she repeated as she turned to look at him. There were no lights on in the main part of the apartment, just the moonlight filtering in through the window above her sink.

Jason leaned against the opposite counter, his face hidden by the shadows. “Did Monica give you the all clear or not?” he asked.

“She did,” Elizabeth said, defensively. She tugged her robe more tightly closed, holding the two sides together with a fist at her throat. “Mostly.”

He closed his eyes, shook his head. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t—” Not really. She just… “Monica told me I was clear for clots, that wasn’t a lie. And that I could resume normal activities…except…” She bit her lip. “She said that I would probably have issues with…stamina, I guess. I couldn’t walk far or—” She took a step towards him, but he didn’t move, so she stopped awkwardly. “She said I might find myself short of breath and that I had to be careful because it might lead to a panic attack or hyperventilating. That’s all that was—”

“That’s all that was,” he repeated. He leaned over and flipped on the light switch. The bright, unnatural light was harsh on her eyes and she squinted. She saw then that Jason wasn’t irritated—

He was furious. His blue eyes had that icy, almost gray flint hue they took on when he was really mad, his shoulders were tense, the muscles in his face twitching.

“Jason—”

“You were gasping for air. You couldn’t breathe.” He shook his head and went back into the bedroom. Worried now, she followed him and watched as he started to pull on his jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me what Monica said about breathing problems?”

“Because I don’t—” She tore his shirt from his hands before he could pull it over his head. “Because I can’t keep living my life worried all the damn time, Jason. I’m going to have issues for the rest of my life because of what Ric did to me—”

“You’ve been out of the hospital for two weeks, Elizabeth.” He stabbed a finger in her direction, then pulled his hand into a fist, letting it drop to his side. “Two weeks. You almost died—”

“And I’m tired of hearing that! I know I almost died—I was there. I couldn’t walk from my damn bed to the window without—” Elizabeth threw the shirt at him. “How long are you going to use that to keep me from doing anything? You want to lock me up, too?”

As soon as the words left her lips, she wanted to call them back. “I’m sorry,” she said almost immediately but it was too late. Jason pulled on his socks and sat on the edge of the bed to tug on his boots. “I didn’t mean that, Jason—”

“You think I’m using what happened to you as a weapon?” he demanded, looking at up at her. “That I’m trying to guilt you by reminding you—” He broke off, shook his head. “I knew you were sick. I could have forced you to see Monica. To get you help. But I wanted to find Carly. And you almost died. You—”

He stopped, took a deep breath. “You’d pressed that button, then collapsed. Your heart stopped beating right in front of me. You stopped breathing. And I just—you could have told me.”

“How could I tell you what Monica said when this is what happens every time I so much as yawn?” Elizabeth demanded, planting her hands on her hips. “I get what happened was awful, but I’m alive, and I’m here—”

His boots now on, Jason stood and found his phone where he’d tossed it after his aborted attempt to call 911. “I don’t want to argue with you,” he said.

“Because I might hyperventilate?” she all but snarled as she charged after him only to for her lungs to seize again as she stumbled, grabbing the kitchen counter to keep from sprawling on the ground. “Damn it,” she gasped, pressing a fist to her chest. “Damn it!”

Jason was back at her side, lowering her to the ground gently so she was resting with her back against the cabinets. He had his phone out again, but he didn’t call 911—he could hear him saying Monica’s name—

“It’s after midnight,” she tried to say, grasping weakly at his phone.

“Yeah. Okay, thanks. They’ll buzz you up downstairs. The door will be unlocked,” Jason said, ignoring her protests. He closed his phone and put it back in his pocket. “You either let her take a look at you or I’m calling an ambulance.”

Because she was too tired to argue, she just closed her eyes and let her head fall gently back against the wooden cabinet. Jason lifted her into his arms and carried her to the sofa before unlocking the door.

“I can’t live my life in fear,” she said softly, almost a murmur. “I can’t. I can’t keep letting it drive. I have to be in charge of my own life. And that means I can’t let your fears run my life, either.”

He said nothing as he sat on the end of the sofa, his head bowed. “Then don’t lie to me.”

“Jason—”

“If you had told me—”

“Monica never said I couldn’t have sex,” Elizabeth muttered, pressing a hand to her forehead. Everything hurt—why did everything have to feel like it was on fire?

“But she said to take it easy, didn’t she?” Jason challenged. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “You didn’t tell me about the oxygen tank. What else don’t I know?”

“I’m not allowed to have a single thought to myself?” she shot back. “Isn’t that the line you threw at me when you lied to me?” He threw her an exasperated look which only made her angrier. “I get it. You watched me die. Well, I’m the one who actually died. I’m the one who couldn’t breathe when I woke up. I’m the one that was drugged. This didn’t happen to you—”

“I watched you die,” he said slowly, his voice sounding calmer than she knew he felt. “I watched you gasp and struggle for air, and with what you thought was your dying breath, try to tell me you loved me.” He looked at her, his eyes red and damp with tears of his own. “And then tonight, I watched you gasp and struggle for air again. And I thought—I thought it was another embolism. I thought you were going to die again. In front of me. They told me in the hospital that if you’d had another one, that was it. No more miracles.”

Some of her irritation faded then. She hadn’t—of course it must have looked— “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t think of what it looked like—I mean—to you.”

“I don’t want you to live in fear, Elizabeth. To always worry about what might happen with your health, but at the same time—” he shook his head. “I’m not sure I can stop.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

Monica knocked on the door, then opened it, entering with a little black bag. Jason got to his feet and closed the door behind her. “I came as soon as I could—” She raised her brows at the two of them, both with red eyes, Elizabeth half-dressed, Jason fully clothed. “Jason said you had to use the tank?”

Elizabeth hesitated, then got to her feet. Jason steadied her with his hand under her elbow. “I’m sorry to drag you over here. I didn’t—I didn’t tell Jason I might need an oxygen mask.”

“Ah.” Monica studied her son for a long moment before looking back at Elizabeth. “Why don’t we go into your room and I’ll take your vitals. We’ll see if we have any reason to be worried.”

Leaving Jason behind in the living room, Elizabeth sat on the edge of her bed as Monica took her temperature, her blood pressure, and then checked her heart. “I told you I’m fine—”

“Your blood pressure is up, but that’s probably to be expected.” Monica pursed her lips. “You didn’t tell him what I said about possibly finding yourself short of breath and needing some back up?”

“No,” Elizabeth said on a sigh. “And he found out—well, he found out the hard way. He thought I was having another embolism. I didn’t—I didn’t—I guess I was hoping it wouldn’t happen like that, but—” she shrugged. “He’s angry at me.”

“It’s hard,” Monica said as she started to repack her instruments. “I’ve always found the hardest part of being in a relationship is the sharing. Alan and I are terrible at it. Ninety percent of our problems have been trying to solve our problems on our own.” She wrinkled her nose. “The other ten percent was all the affairs.”

“I get that Jason was upset because of what happened to me—”

“He blames himself, Elizabeth. Even if it’s not true, even if it’s not fair, Jason blames himself for letting it to get to the point that you almost died.” Monica picked up the bag. “And right or wrong, he probably sees what happened tonight as also being his fault. That’s something the accident didn’t change about him. Even as a small child, Jason always took the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

She sighed. “Monica—”

“I want you to spend some time resting,” Monica said, cutting her off. “Not bed rest but taking it easy. I know your hearing is at the end of the week and the memorial service—” She pressed her lips together. “After that, we’ll talk about some ways to get you back on track, physically.” She hesitated. “Elizabeth, you’re young. You were healthy before Ric got his hands on you, but a pulmonary embolism—the cardiac arrest that followed—that’s not something you bounce back from in two or three weeks. Not completely.”

“I know. Thank you for coming over so late.”

A few minutes after Monica left, Jason returned to the bedroom and sat next to her on the bed. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I just—I wanted to be normal. To feel like my old self.” She looked at him and was relieved to see most of the anger had left his eyes. “I just wanted to be with you.”

Jason put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stormed out—”

“I never meant to put you through that again—to make you think about the embolism—”

“You need to tell me when things affect your health. I can’t—” He tipped her head up to her look at her, his hand framing her jaw. “I can’t lose you.”

“I promise. Will you stay? Just—to sleep, I mean. Monica wants me to take it easy this week, at least until the hearing.”

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” He brushed his lips over her forehead, but she knew this probably wouldn’t be the last time they argued about her health or safety.

General Hospital: Kevin’s Office

Carly shifted in her seat, pressed her hand to her belly where the baby had decided to perform a somersault. “Like I said,” she told Kevin, “I feel like I’ve got my issues under control.”

“You know, just because this is our last scheduled session,” Kevin told her, “it doesn’t mean we can’t meet again if you need me.” He waited a long moment. “How are things with Sonny? You haven’t mentioned him today.”

“Things are…” she bit her lip and looked away, out the window. “I guess things are okay. I don’t know if you talk to my mother—”

“I haven’t spoken to Bobbie, no. You told me that Sonny had some problems while you were gone.” Kevin leaned forward at his desk, his elbows resting on the surface. “I was just wondering how that was affecting you. You’ve been trying to get back to normal, but—”

“Sonny’s struggling,” Carly admitted. “You know what happened to his first wife, Lily. Well, this brought it all back and he had a…” she paused. “Jason said it was a breakdown. That he was hallucinating and seeing Lily. That she was blaming him for what happened that night, for what happened to me. He hasn’t hallucinated since, but…sometimes he loses track of time.”

Kevin merely lifted a brow. “Loses track how?”

“Mama said Elizabeth told her she was talking with Sonny and he seemed to think it was last year. He remembered after a minute, but it’s not the first time…” She rubbed her belly again. “Sonny’s always had some issues, but Jason and I can usually handle it. It’s just been—we’re both exhausted right now. Jason’s worrying about Elizabeth, which is fine, I guess, since she almost died, and you know, I’ve got the boys—we haven’t been able to take care of him the way we used to. But we’re going to do better.”

“Okay,” Kevin drew out slowly. “Have you thought about—has he thought about—”

“Talking to someone? Mama tried, and I thought Sonny might actually do it, but he seems to think it’ll make him weak. He’s not the type to reach out for help, Dr. Collins.” Carly wrinkled her nose when the clock next to her turned to 11:50. “Thanks. I appreciate all the help you’ve given me.”

“Carly, don’t hesitate to reach out,” he said as she stood up. “I’m always here—”

“Thanks, but I’m not the one that needs the help.”

PCPD: Archives

 Lucky grimaced as he pulled the ninth and final box from the shelves and put it on the table for Cruz and Dante to open and go through. “This doesn’t make any sense,” he muttered as he took a seat and started to through their notes.

“We have two more cases in the park,” Cruz sighed, tossing his pencil to the table and leaning back in disgust. “Two more cases of a young brunette raped in the park near a fountain. April 1999 and January 2000. Why the hell didn’t Vinnie see this?”

Dante smiled humorlessly. “Now you get why he’s my least favorite cousin. He probably didn’t even remember these cases even though he was the responding officer—” He looked at Lucky who ignored them both and started to look back at the files again. “What’s wrong?’

“The nine cases we pulled—” Lucky started turning around the other boxes on the cold shelves, but none of them had the SA notation for sexual assault. “None of them were Elizabeth’s.”

“I thought you said they got the guy,” Cruz said as he joined Lucky in his search. “Wouldn’t her case be in the closed room?”

“They couldn’t make the case, and her rape kit came back negative for any DNA,” Lucky said as he went to the other side of the shelving unit to check those boxes. “It was ruled inactive—which is the same thing as cold. I don’t understand why it’s not here.”

“Well, it’s the PCPD,” Dante said, climbing to his feet. “What do you want to bet some idiot thought that the guy’s confession meant the case was solved? I bet it got put in closed storage by accident.”

“Maybe.” But that didn’t make sense to Lucky. He’d seen a few cases get moved into cold storage since he’d started at the department, and the investigating officers usually moved it themselves. And Taggert had been the primary at the time Elizabeth’s case was ruled inactive.

He wouldn’t have made that mistake.

Dante and Cruz both followed Lucky to the next room which was twice the size as the cold storage. The rooms were organized chronologically, so they split up to find the 1998 cases. Finally, after nearly ten minutes, Lucky located the case boxes from that period—

And sure enough, Elizabeth’s name was scrawled across the side of a file box—and then Lucky saw something truly disturbing. The lid had been labeled in dark black marker CLOSED.  Which, in PCPD parlance, meant solved. He shook his head and took the case to the table in the room. This really didn’t make sense.

Cruz took the lid as Lucky tugged it off the box, examining the notation. “I can see filing it here by mistake, but writing closed—”

“That’s not the only place it’s written,” Dante said. He lifted the top folder from the box—a thin manila folder with only a few documents. The original report and a few statements. There was a label on the front of the file proclaiming the case closed. Dante handed Lucky the investigator’s closing remarks.

“Taggert and Garcia worked this case,” Lucky murmured as he looked over the closing report. “But Mac wrote this up as closed with Baker in prison—” He shook his head. “Why—”

“So, it didn’t show up as an open case on the reports, maybe,” Cruz offered. “Maybe Taggert and Mac didn’t want—” He frowned. “Didn’t you say her rape kit came back negative?”

“Yeah—” Lucky’s mouth was dry as Cruz lifted out the plastic bag containing a red dress. He hadn’t seen that dress since the night he’d taken Elizabeth home, since she had put it back on after Bobbie took care of her, after she’d crawled out of the bushes—

“There’s no notation on it—” He reached for the folder in Dante’s hand. “Where’s the chain of evidence document—”

“The one that’s supposed to list every time it’s touched?” Dante found it and whistled. “Handed over to PCPD by Mercy Hospital, March 1998. That’s it.” He snorted. “Checked in by Vinnie, naturally. Asshole.”

“But here’s the test from the lab,” Cruz said. “They—how did they get a rape kit tested without—”

“Maybe they fucked up the chain of custody,” Dante offered. He glanced over the log Cruz handed him. “Forgot to write it—”

“Maybe,” Lucky allowed. “Let’s pack it up and take it upstairs.” He swallowed hard. He didn’t like to think of Elizabeth’s case being messed up, but…Baker was the guy. He’d confessed. “We can talk to Taggert about it tomorrow. We should get cleaned up.”

“Yeah.” Dante sighed. “Yeah, we gotta be at the service soon.”

Quartermaine: Patio

Emily sighed, watching as Reginald wheeled Lila back into the house so she could lay down before the memorial service that evening. “She blames herself for not doing more for Brooke.” She turned back to Elizabeth and offered to pour her more lemonade.

“We all do,” Elizabeth said with a weary smile. Jason had stayed the rest of the night and had attempted to talk her into staying in bed all day, but she’d reminded him that Monica had only recommended taking it easy. There was nothing easier than sitting in the garden, drinking lemonade with Emily and Lila, so he’d backed down. Reluctantly.

“What’s wrong?” Emily stirred some more sugar in her glass. “And don’t ask — I can almost always tell. Especially when I’m actually paying attention.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “I may have overstated my recovery to Jason a bit. Your mother told me I could resume normal activities but nothing too strenuous and to keep an oxygen tank for emergencies. I didn’t tell Jason that second part. Last night…” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, let’s just say I attempted a strenuous activity.”

Emily arched a brow. “Oh, really? And lemme guess, instead of the afterglow, Jason got to watch you put on an oxygen mask. Sexy. Is that what’s bothering you?”

“I wish it had been that simple—I couldn’t get the mask on right away, so what should have been a simple thing ended up with panic attack and a dose of hyperventilation. Jason thought I was having an embolism, which scared the crap out of him. He got mad at me. I got mad at him. Your mother had to come over after I had a second dose of hyperventilation while we were arguing.”

She sat back against the cushions. “It’s not like I don’t understand his reaction, especially once I realized he thought it was another PE, but is it going to be like this every time we argue? He throws it in my face I almost died—”

“To be fair, he probably only brought it up because you were literally gasping for air,” Emily reminded her. “Liz, look, I am over the moon that you and my brother are together, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. You guys fell apart last year for very good reasons. None of that gets solved because you almost died, and he’s decided to stop wasting time.” She shrugged. “You still need to trust each other. And I’m sorry, Liz, but you don’t get to hold it against him that he doesn’t want to do anything that might end up with you back in the hospital. That’s just normal human nature. Do you want to do something that puts him at risk?”

“No, but—” Elizabeth huffed. “You’re annoying.”

“That’s why everyone loves me,” Emily said with a sunny smile. It faded as she looked through the patio doors into the family room where Ned and Edward had entered. “It feels terrible to be home to bury Brooke. I don’t know how Ned is going to be able to deal with this.”

“He’ll have his family be his side,” Elizabeth told her, reaching across to squeeze her best friend’s hand. “That helps.”

Kelly’s: Lucky’s Room

Lucky scowled as he pulled the knot on his tie tight and grimaced in the mirror. He hated wearing a suit, and he really hated wearing a suit to the funeral of young woman.

He didn’t know if Brooke had committed suicide—if she’d meant to take the overdose of pills that had killed her. A lot of his memories of Elizabeth were still vague and dim, his swirling with bits and pieces that didn’t always make sense.

But being around this case, looking over her original statement and the one he’d given Dara Jensen and Detective Garcia…so many pieces were starting to fit together like a puzzle. And he remembered Elizabeth’s face as she’d crawled out of the bushes, the way her voice had trembled as she denied what happened, refused to let him do much more than bring his aunt to her.

He remembered now that he used to wish he’d forced to go to the cops that night, that if he’d called 911 and they’d taken care of then, before she’d showered—

But knowing Brooke, seeing what she’d gone through, what he knew the other victims this year had dealt with—

He’d told Dillon Quartermaine that he’d taken his cue from Elizabeth, and Lucky was desperately grateful he’d done so. She’d made it through the darkness, and despite all the pain and loss that had come later, he was glad he’d been there for her.

He heard a knock on his door. “Come in,” Lucky called as he grimaced at his tie, undoing the knot and attempting it again. In the mirror, he saw Kelsey step in and close the door behind her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said softly. She walked forward and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her face against his back. “I thought we could drive over to the memorial together. Scott’s going with Bobbie.”

Lucky covered her hands with his own, then turned to face her. “Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“No.” Kelsey sighed, then walked away to sit on the edge of his bed. “Mac called before I left the office. You found two more case files in the archives?”

Lucky frowned. “No—I mean, yeah, but we found three.” He pulled out his desk chair and sat on it backwards, resting his elbow on the back of the chair. “Taggert was gone for the day when we got done, so I gave the report to Mac—we pulled three.” He hesitated. “Which cases did he tell you about?”

“Veronica Logan and Theresa Lopez—” Kelsey narrowed her eyes. “Three? Which one is missing—” She shook her head. “This is weird. This is the second time the number of cases have been wrong. Before Brooke was attacked, Taggert told Scott he had twelve untested rape kits. Nine in storage, three open—Watson, Norton, and Morris. But when Scott asked Mac, Mac told him there was fourteen. Brooke would have made it thirteen.”

“And now Mac only passed on two cases. You know—the third case was Elizabeth’s.”

“Elizabeth Webber?” Kelsey repeated. “Your ex? But I thought you said they got the guy—”

“He confessed, but they couldn’t make the case. Taggert told Elizabeth he was moving her case to cold storage, and a few weeks later, Mac told her that her rape kit had come back negative.” He told her about finding the case in the closed storage with no evidence that her evidence had ever been sent to the lab.

“Her dress was in the box?” She scowled. “Why isn’t it in Evidence? With everything else? Damn it—wait, why did you pull her case?”

“Because I thought—” Lucky exhaled slowly. “I was sure that Tom Baker was the guy. He confessed. I mean, who does that, right? And he didn’t deny it. Not in the studio that day. But I read over Brooke’s statement. You remember you told me that Brooke said the guy told her to keep quiet—”

“Yeah—”

“’Not a word.’ That’s what Brooke remembered.”

Kelsey stared at him for a long moment. “And you—that’s what Elizabeth’s attacker said to her, isn’t it? That’s what you’re going to tell me.”

“Some of it doesn’t fit,” Lucky admitted. “He didn’t—I mean, he raped her, but he didn’t beat her. She was able to leave the park on her own. With me. She had bruises, scratches. But she wasn’t like the others. And I don’t know about the hair. She didn’t remember a lot of details at first. But it was in the park, it was at a fountain—it was after the movies. At night. With a guy who said not a word.”

Kelsey exhaled slowly. “And for some reason, this case was put into cold storage, the evidence mishandled, and not turned over to the DA’s office with the progress report. I’m guessing Mac didn’t tell you he was only sending over two of the cases?”

“No—” Lucky shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense, Kelse.”

“On the one hand, if her case was mishandled, I can see Mac not wanting it to come to light. She still has time to file suit against the city for the domestic assault last month. But…” Kelsey shook her head. “I don’t know. You said you were teenagers—”

“Valentine’s Day. 1998.”

“Valentine’s—” Kelsey got to her feet. “Okay. Okay.” She laced her fingers together as she started to pace. “Okay. I can’t accuse the commissioner of negligence. And neither can you. We’re both rookies. No one is going to take us seriously, but—” She turned. “Taggert—he’ll get your report. I’ll talk to Scott. We’ll get Elizabeth’s case re-opened. And send the kit over to the lab with the others. Honestly, Lucky—”

“We need more,” he finished. He ran his hands down her arms. “I get it. I want to handle Elizabeth’s case right. And there might not be any physical evidence to link her to the others. She didn’t even turn over the dress for a month. She showered—”

“She did what she needed to do to get through it.” Kelsey looked at him. “We’ll get to the bottom of it, Lucky. I promise. Because if she was raped by the same man five years ago, if those other two cases are linked—then this just got a lot worse. And after what happened with Brooke, I didn’t think that was possible.”

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

 The service, held first at the Queen of Angels church, followed by a reception in the Quartermaine garden, was somber. Ned sat in the first row, with Jax and Alexis on either side of him, Dillon next to Alexis. Lois, true to her word, didn’t show.

Afterward, he’d driven back to the estate with his grandparents and had calmly accepted the condolences and sympathy from everyone who offered it. Almost no one in Port Charles had known his daughter, but that never stopped the people of the town from trying to find any way to get into the Quartermaine family’s good graces.

Felicia and her girls had offered their sympathies, but Ned had been grateful Mac had stayed home. The only people from PCPD he wanted to see were Dante Falconieri and his friends. Even Taggert had had the decency to stay away. If Floyd had tried to show up at the church, Ned—

Well, Ned wouldn’t have been responsible for his actions.

After almost an hour, Ned slipped away from everyone else and went into the foyer to take a break. He was sitting on a chair, tucked away behind the stairwell when he heard the family room door open.

“I told you, Jason, I’ll be fine. I’m just—I’m going to lay down upstairs for a little while—no—”

He rose to his feet when the door closed as Elizabeth rolled her eyes and slowly crossed the foyer. She saw him just as she stepped onto the stairs. “Oh. Ned, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“Are you all right? I heard you tell Jason you needed to lay down—” Ned stepped towards her, a hand extended as if to offer it to her.

“I had an issue last night, but I’m fine. Monica is just after me to take it easy and avoid stressing my body out. When I get tired, I’m supposed to stop and lay down.” She sighed, pressed a fist to her chest. “With the hearing at the end of the week, I’m trying to conserve my energy. Emily offered her room—anyway, I’m sorry to bother you—”

“You’re not. I just—” He hesitated, dragged a hand through his hair, then let it rest on the back of his neck for a moment before dropping it to his side. “I haven’t talked to you since—since—” He couldn’t say it.

She nodded. “Since,” she repeated softly. “I know I said it earlier, but I’m so sorry, Ned.”

“Thank you for—” He exhaled slowly. “You said she left you a voicemail. I never—what did she say?”

“Oh…Ned—” Elizabeth shook her head. “Don’t let that in your head, you know? It—” She pressed her lips together. “She sounded upset. Her words were slurred. I think she’d already taken the pills. She said it was better when everyone didn’t know. She wished no one knew. And then the call ended.”

“One day, I might want to listen to it,” he murmured. “Maybe not. I don’t know.”

“I’ll make sure I get it saved. Ned—”

“Don’t—don’t blame yourself. I’m glad Brooke reached out to you.” His throat tightened as he looked away. “If she’d already taken the pills, it was probably already too late by the time she did. I could have done more for her. And I’ll always regret not being a better father, but at the end of the day, whatever you and I could have done for her—it doesn’t change the fact that she was—”

He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t force the word out of her lips.

“Ned—”

“So, we need to focus on that. That some animal is attacking girls, and the police let them get away with it. He took my daughter away from us, and the PCPD—Floyd—they’re responsible for what happened to her. The same way they’re responsible for what happened to you.”

“Ned—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Revenge sounds good. Believe me, I’ve thought about it. But at the end of the day, it won’t change what happened—”

“No, but it—” He took a deep breath. “I can’t help my daughter. But I can stop it from happening again. I will stop it. My daughter is going to be the last victim. One way or another.”

September 12, 2019

This entry is part 13 of 31 in the All of Me

Cause standing still
Isn’t easy
When the world’s moving backwards
The world’s moving backwards
So get your fill
But please believe me
That the world’s moving backwards
The world’s moving backwards
Moving Backwards, Ben Rector


Monday, July 21, 2003

PCPD: Conference Room

Taggert sighed when he saw Lucky and Cruz enter the room for their morning meeting. “Falconieri not coming in?”

“He’s spending the day with his mother and Lois, helping them with arrangements.” Cruz took a seat and frowned at him. “Did you think he’d be here? I spent half the weekend trying to convince him not to quit.”

“Yeah.” Taggert looked at Lucky who had sat down quietly. “Yeah, I get it. Look, we’re going to open up the case a bit. I don’t think that the attack in February was his first.”

Cruz exchanged a glance with Lucky. “What makes you think that?”

Taggert hesitated, then decided to not to mention the tip he’d received. “Looking over the statements that Esposito took—even in the detail they lack, there are enough common threads that make me think his MO was a little too developed in that first attack. What happened to Dana Watson is what happened to Brooke Lynn Ashton.  Grabbed after leaving the movies, near a fountain, beaten, raped, handcuffed—”

“You should have seen an escalation,” Lucky muttered. “If Dana Watson is the first victim, he should be refining his technique, right?”

“Right. Making small adjustments—or improvements.” Taggert grimaced. “But the attacks are identical, even down to the type of injuries. They’re controlled. I’m not saying that it’s impossible, it just feels like he already had his attack down before the Watson case. If he didn’t hit Port Charles, then maybe another city.” He glanced down at his records. “Including Brooke Lynn Ashton, there are thirteen open rapes going back to 1995. Four of them are from this year and already at the lab. The other nine? Scattered between 1995 and 2000. Our older case records aren’t computerized yet—nothing past 2000.”

“You want us to pull all nine?” Lucky asked, leaning forward, his eyes on Taggert. “All of them?”

Neither of them said her name, but Taggert knew what the younger man was referring to. “Yeah. Look at all of them. Bring them up. Go through them. Make me a list of possible related cases. We’re sending all of the kits to the lab thanks to the funding the new ADA got us, but I want to read and be familiar with the files before we get any lab work back.  Maybe we can close a few other cases even if they’re not linked. Let’s try to do some good.”

He got to his feet, then hesitated, looked back at them. “What happened to Brooke this weekend—what happened to her and the other women—that’s on the PCPD, but it’s not on you two. Or Falconieri. We’re trying to do better, but it’s not going to happen overnight.”

“Are we done throwing women under the bus?” Cruz muttered as he and Lucky stood. When Taggert just raised his brows at him, Cruz shrugged. “Brooke Lynn Ashton wasn’t the first woman to get screwed over by this department in the month I’ve worked here. I’m just not sure who we’re serving and protecting.”

“Everyone,” Taggert told him. “But yeah, it doesn’t always feel that way. We’re trying, Rodriguez. I’m trying. We need to work this case and bring him to justice before another woman gets attacked. Let’s focus on getting that much right.”

Quartermaine Estate: Patio

Dillon had set eyes on Georgie Jones on his first day in Port Charles and had fallen for her, hook, line, and sinker the minute she’d grabbed him at that pay phone, kissed him, and told him to play along for her sister.

For the last five months, they’d been dating, and he’d been happy. She, along with Maxie and Lucas, were really the first friends he’d ever made and kept for more than a few weeks and Dillon had been enjoying that. Until Brooke had shown up and reminded him how lonely he’d been once.

Georgie had come over to keep him company as his family got ready for Brooke’s memorial service, but so far, she’d just fretted over the treatment her stepfather was receiving in the newspapers and tabloids. And she was dancing around the real reason Mac was under fire that day—

“Just say it,” he told her after nearly twenty minutes of listening to her ramble and tell stories about what a good guy Mac was. “You didn’t come over here because you were worried about me. You came to say something.”

Georgie pressed her lips together, grimaced. “I just—I know your family is grieving, I guess, even though they barely knew Brooke, and I get Ned is devastated, but they’re taking it out on Mac and he’s going to end up fired—”

“They’re taking it out on him,” Dillon repeated, “because your stepfather fucked up royally and now my niece is dead. Four women have been brutally attacked and raped.” He snorted. “But yeah, Mac’s a great guy. He’s an idiot, Georgie—”

She lunged up from the patio chair. “He works so hard, Dillon. You have no right—”

“He didn’t notice a serial rapist was working in the park,” Dillon shot back. “And then when he did figure it out, he let the mayor get away with being a giant dick about tourism and didn’t tell anyone. Tell me, Georgie, why didn’t you and Maxie go with us in the park to look for Brooke? Did he warn you?”

Georgie paled, looked away, and swallowed hard. “He told us we shouldn’t go in the park after dark. But he’s always said that, Dillon. It wasn’t new.”

“Bullshit. He warned you without telling you. Brooke didn’t get that warning. And now she’s dead—” He waved a hand at her, dismissing her as he turned to go back in the house.

“She’s not dead because of my father!” Georgie snapped back. “She took a bunch of pills—” She stopped abruptly when Dillon spun back to confront her, his eyes wide. “I didn’t mean that, Dillon. I know she was hurting—”

“It took weeks for you to give her a chance.” He shook his head. “It took all of us weeks to give her a chance, and when she needed someone in her corner, where were we?”

“We tried—she kicked us out—”

“We shouldn’t have gone. I should have known better. I never had anyone growing up. I knew how lonely she was—” Dillon shook his head. “I’m not going to ask my brother and my family to let up on the PCPD. They’re morons and right now, your stepfather is their king. So, don’t come over here again defending him.”

“I won’t!” Georgie stomped down the steps of the patio, obviously opting to exit through the garden entrance to the estate, bypassing the house.

He couldn’t believe Georgie, of all people, would have come here less than two days after Brooke had died, trying to defend the man responsible. He didn’t care what kind of saint Mac Scorpio was. Brooke was dead, and it was, at least partially, his fault.

Quartermaine Estate: Front Room

 “This is not the conversation I need to be having the day before I bury my daughter,” Ned said as he turned away from the window and looked back at his grandfather.

“I apologize for the timing,” Edward said gruffly, his usual fire and brimstone dimmed with grief and weariness. “But you want someone to pay for what happened at the PCPD, and if we can’t find someone to run against Floyd in November, it’ll have to be you.”

Ned scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to find the energy to explain to Edward why it was a terrible idea for him to run for mayor.

Except…why not?

Why shouldn’t it be him?

It couldn’t have been him before Brooke…he would have been putting her in the spotlight, making a terrible situation even more horrific for his daughter. But she was gone.

And someone had to pay for that. Could Ned even believe that the PCPD would find the animal who had raped her, who had driven her to take so many pain pills that she had—

No. If Floyd stayed in office, he’d keep Mac as commissioner, and the two of them would just keep protecting one another, leaving the citizens of the city to rot. Throwing away women like his little girl so they could keep their power.

Who knew the damage they could do better than Ned? He’d watched them as they’d screwed up Carly Corinthos’ kidnapping, leaving her rescue up to the woman Ric had been drugging and abusing to the point poor Elizabeth had nearly died. He had a front row seat to the damage their political cover-ups had done to his family—

His daughter was never going to have a chance to grow up. To write her songs, to make the music she’d dreamed of for so long. She’d been broken, irreparably, by some piece of trash that the PCPD had let wreak havoc for months without once warning the public—

And it was because of Floyd. The poison started at the top. So maybe it was time to rip it out at the roots.

“Get me the paperwork,” Ned told Edward. “I’ll do it.”

Brownstone: Backyard

Lucas sighed as he watched his cousin delicately adjusting the strap of her tank top to avoid tan lines on her shoulders. Maxie laid back on the lounger and peered over at him as he sat down and set a glass of lemonade next to her. “I told you I’d get it. I came over to cheer you up.”

That’s what she had announced a half hour ago when she’d shown up on his doorstep with her sunglasses and suntan lotion tucked in a tote bag slung over her shoulder. Then she’d arranged herself on the lounger in his backyard which reminded him that his house got better afternoon sun than hers.

He adored his silly and frivolous cousin, and she had, in her own way, brightened his day.

“It feels weird to be affected by any of this,” he said after a long moment. “Two weeks ago, Brooke was Dillon’s family, someone we were tolerating because we liked him. I mean, I had maybe a handful of conversations with her that were longer than five seconds. Do I even have a right to be upset about any of this?”

“Listen.” Maxie peered at him over the tips of her dark lenses. “Time is dumb. Who gets to decide how long you gotta know a person before you get to be sad about losing them? You liked Brooke. I know you did. And so did Dillon. And I bet she and I were gonna be friends, mostly because I think she really annoyed Georgie, and you know how that gets me going. We get to be sad about what’s never gonna happen just as much as we’re sad about what did.”

She sighed, then looked back up at the sky. “Plus, we’re not just feeling sad. We’re feeling guilty. If we had just stopped worrying about ourselves for five minutes, maybe we could found her faster. Or maybe—”

“Or maybe I could stop picking fights with your idiot boyfriend.”

Maxie raised a brow as if to say, well, duh. “But my idiot boyfriend could also not take the bait. He feels just as shitty as we do, Lucas.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the seat. “I know you don’t like Kyle. And I get that he did something incredibly stupid and awful, but I’m not exactly innocent, you know? I’m not perfect. And I don’t get to demand perfection from anyone else. He’s a dumb jock who’s figured out he’s a dumb jock. He wants to do better. I’m happy with him. I’d like you to give him a chance.”

“Yeah. Well…” Lucas hesitated. “I need to tell you something, Maxie. I haven’t told you before because I didn’t know how you’d deal with it. And I wasn’t ready to tell my mom. But I told Brooke. And I told Mom. I’m done hiding.” He waited until Maxie slid the sunglasses to the top of her head. “I’m gay.”

His cousin stared at him for a long moment. “Okay.”

Lucas squinted. “I mean, gay, Maxie. Like I have a boyfriend. His name is Felix.”

“Okay.” She pursed her lips. “Can I meet him?”

A bit at sea over her nonplussed response, Lucas cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I guess. You know what gay is—”

“Oh, Oh, I’m not reacting right, am I?” Maxie squared her shoulders, tossed her hair back. “Okay, let’s do it again. I can be way more dramatic. From the top.”

He laughed, then switched to sit next to her. He slung an arm over her shoulder in a partial hug. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad Brooke was someone you could come out to,” Maxie told him. “I figured she was into girls because she totally checked out my ass a few times. I wish I could have known her longer.” She exhaled slowly. “Georgie’s fighting with Dillon because of the stuff Ned and his family are saying in the papers, you know.”

“Yeah, I read it. And I saw the news last night.” Lucas returned to his seat. “Georgie’s always been more sensitive about these things—”

“Georgie has a hard time seeing people for who they are,” Maxie said with a shake of her head. “She still thinks my dad is this awesome guy who’s sacrificing his own life to save lives. Sure, Frisco’s doing good work for someone out there, but he’s also a guy who finds adventure more interesting than being a father. Mac’s the only dad I really remember. And it sucks to find out he’s human.”

She reached for her lemonade. “He told me and Georgie to stay out of the park. He didn’t tell me why. I mean, damn it, Lucas, he’s supposed to protect people. Why didn’t he protect Brooke? Or those other girls in the paper? Can’t Georgie see that Mac screwed up?”

She twirled the straw in the glass with a heavy sigh. “How do I make those guys fit in my head? The dad I grew up with, who could do no wrong—how could he be the same kind of guy who just…abandoned the people he was supposed to protect?”

Port Charles Municipal Building: Scott Baldwin’s Office

 Kelsey dropped some paperwork on the conference table as she took her seat across from Scott. “Taggert had the rookies in his division send over the rape kits from the nine open cases in cold storage.”

“Good, good. When does he expect the results back?”

“Well, we put a rush on the orders,” Kelsey told him as she tied her hair back in a ponytail. “The original three victims from this year were sent over last week, Brooke Ashton’s last Wednesday. We should have them back sometime in August. And then probably the last nine first week of September.”

Scott grimaced. “Science needs to move faster—” He looked at her. “How many cases did you say were in cold storage?” He started sifting through his notes, looking for a list he’d made after a meeting with Mac. “He sent me a list of open rapes before—”

“Nine in cold storage, four active, so thirteen…” Kelsey tilted her head. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t think about it at the time, but back when Taggert took over Major Crimes, he said he wanted to send over twelve kits. He had the three open, and nine from cold storage. That makes sense. Brooke makes thirteen.”

“So?”

“So, when Floyd was yelling at me and Mac last week, Mac said fourteen—” Scott found the list of cases and counted them, sliding his fingers down the list. “There are only twelve on this list, too. This was made before Brooke.”

“Maybe Mac messed up the number. He hasn’t really been on top of the rape cases.” Kelsey tapped her pile of paperwork. “It’s not like we don’t have proof he’s not always great with the details.”

“Yeah, I guess. You said the rookies are working on the cold cases?”

“Yeah, Taggert sent them down to storage to pull everything that was open so he could go through them. Make sure this is the first time our guy has hit Port Charles. I agree with him — the style is too specific to be brand new. Unless he’s unique in some way. He also just wants to be familiar with them if the kits come back with a hit.” Kelsey leaned forward to peer at the paperwork in front of Scott. “The Lansing case?”

“Yeah.” Scott sighed. “Lansing is making noises about credibility of the witnesses. Liz and Carly are both seeing therapists — that’ll be easy to explain since he tried to kill them both and they’re traumatized. But he must know something about Sonny, because he warned me he’s putting together a subpoena on that.” He shook his head. “Liz has a hearing to renew the protection order on Friday.”

“I’ve seen the evidence, Scott. She should be a shoo-in—”

“Yeah, well, it’s before the same judge that slapped the injunction on Morgan for Liz’s power of attorney and dragged his feet about letting us arrest Ric for the kidnapping. I don’t trust the family court when it comes to Liz.” He grimaced as he continued to make notes. “Plus, he’s gonna use the fact that Liz is dating Morgan now as evidence of something. He’s an asshole and they always get away with bullshit like this.”

He set his pen down. “I’ve been thinking of maybe offering him some sort of deal.”

Kelsey lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Because this is a big case. And your handling of it has been basically the only thing the media likes. You got a lot of good ink when you got held in contempt—”

“Yeah, well…” Scott huffed. “That’s not why I did it. I’m looking at these subpoenas, and even though Ric can’t make Liz and Carly give him statements prior to trial, he’s defending himself. How can I put them through a trial and testimony? He nearly killed Elizabeth, and Carly’s still in therapy.”

“So, you’d offer him a plea?” Kelsey wrinkled her nose. “He’s on the hook to go away for life if the right judge gives him consecutive sentences. You think it would make them happier if he spent less time in prison?”

“The difference between parole in twenty-five years and no parole at all isn’t much. Liz and Carly might be okay with twenty-five years of a Ric-free existence. Look, I’m just thinking about it.”

“You’d talk to them first, right?” Kelsey bit her lip. “I mean, not just talk, Scott. You should ask them. They may want to testify. It might be something they’re looking forward to.”

“If I didn’t talk to them first, Bobbie would cut my head off, and believe me, she’s already not so happy with me these days.” He sighed. “Let’s talk about the other open cases. What’s on the docket this week?”

Condo: Hallway

 When Emily had suggested Jason and Elizabeth join her and Lucky for dinner at Kelly’s, Elizabeth had been hesitant, but Jason and Lucky seemed to be fine together. Apparently, Emily told her, they’d worked together while Elizabeth had been in her coma. Another sign that her ex-boyfriend was starting to feel comfortable in his own skin again.

They’d tried not to talk about what brought Emily back to Port Charles this time, but it was difficult to stay off the topic of Brooke. Lucky didn’t talk about the investigation, but it was on their minds. Afterwards, she and Jason said goodbye to his sister and Lucky, then took a drive on the cliff roads.

But Brooke was still in her head when they got back to her condo building and Elizabeth couldn’t shake the feeling that she could have done more to help the younger woman.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she put her key in her lock and glanced at Jason as he leaned against the wall. “I’m not great company tonight.”

He tipped his head to the side. “You want me to leave?”

“No.” She pushed her door open, feeling very sure about that. “No. I guess I’m just—I’m thinking about Brooke again. About these last few weeks since that letter from Baker…since I found out Ric was drugging me for so long…” She closed the door and tossed her keys on the coffee table.

She could still see the last vestiges of the sunset on the horizon as she crossed to her large window overlooking the harbor. “And I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened to me back then. Did I tell you it was the same…the same place as Brooke? In the park?”

She glanced over her shoulder as he drew closer to her, his brow furrowed. “You said something that night, I think.”

“I couldn’t remember anything for weeks.” She managed a smile, her face reflected dimly in the glass in front of her. “I didn’t want to remember anything. It came back in fits and starts, you know? I remembered something he said to me. The way he smelled. But I still pushed away most of it. Until I started seeing Gail. God, it all came back so fast during one session, but still I couldn’t let myself remember all of it—”

She sighed and turned to face him, leaning against the window. “You remember when you came home that August?”

“Yeah.”

“I had cut my hair short.” Elizabeth touched the ends of hair. “Shorter than I had in years. Because I remembered the way he had touched it. He had wrapped his fingers in it. Smelled my hair. If I could have dyed it without explaining to anyone, I might have. I settled for chopping—” She hesitated, seeing the wince on his face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m talking about this—”

“It’s—” Jason shook his head, looked away. “I knew before that night at Jake’s—before you told me. I knew what you’d been through. Logically. Until these last weeks—until that letter from Baker—I don’t think I ever really understood it.”

“Jason—”

“What you went through. What you still go through.” He turned away, then sat on the sofa, put his head in his hands. “I can’t make it go away. I can’t make it stop. And I keep thinking about that night—when I told you I had gone to see him—”

“Hey.” She perched on the coffee table in front of him, slid her fingers under his chin so he’d look at her. “Jason.”

“I listened to you, and I just—I remember that day at the docks. When I saw you and I saw that you had cut your hair.” His mouth twisted. “Do you know what I thought when I saw you?”

“No.” She tilted her head. “Tell me.”

He hesitated, but then shrugged. “I always liked your hair, I guess. I’d never really thought about it. But you were just—I liked it. I wanted to—” He shook his head. “It’s not—”

“When I saw you that day,” Elizabeth told him, “when I ran to you on the docks, and you hugged me—I was attracted to you. Is that what you don’t want to say? That a haircut I got made me more attractive to you?”

“It’s not the right time—”

“It is,” Elizabeth pressed. “Because if I let you back away from this—it’s like I need to be protected from the way you feel about me. The way I thought you felt.”

“Elizabeth—”

“It’s not like I wrote you before that day and said I remembered that my rapist did something disgusting with my hair, so I cut it as short as I could without people asking questions. You came home, you saw me, and you liked it. I’m glad. I mean, if we’re sharing embarrassing memories — when I used to change your bandage that winter you were shot—I used to fantasize about licking you.”

A startled laugh escaped his lips and he dipped his head. “Christ. It’s not the same—”

“No, but you know? I hated that haircut and it’s taken forever to grow out. Now? Knowing you thought I was hot with it—” Her smile felt wicked. “I kind of want to cut it again.”

He smiled again, but his eyes were still sad. “Elizabeth—” Jason shook his head, rose to his feet to walk to the window, then paced back to the sofa. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. To say. Are you okay? This isn’t even about me—”

She crossed to him, where he stood by the table, reaching out her fingers to twist in the soft tan fabric of his t-shirt. She could feel the muscles of his abdomen tense beneath the shirt. “I told Bobbie after it happened that I didn’t think I could ever be with someone again. Not the way I could have before then. She told me it would be okay someday, but I didn’t believe her.”

“But you found Lucky.”

“I did,” Elizabeth admitted. “But it was sweet. And light. Gentle. If he’d lived—the version of him that I loved so very much—if that Lucky hadn’t died, I don’t know what would have happened. But I put myself back into a box. Until you.”

Jason frowned slightly, shook his head. “I don’t—”

“The first time we were on your bike,” Elizabeth said, tipping her head up. “I climbed on behind you and wrapped my arms around you. I felt tingly all over. I didn’t even really understand what I was feeling. Not then. It was new. And it was good.”

“Elizabeth—”

“And when you were half naked for weeks in my studio?” Her cheeks were flaming. “You probably could have just crooked your finger at me, and I would have followed you anywhere. You gave me that back. That sense of being a woman. Of knowing that I could feel that way again.”

“I didn’t do—”

“No, you didn’t. It was just enough that you were there, that you were kind, and that you were my friend. I felt safe with you. Safe enough that if you hadn’t left. If things had been different—” She lifted a shoulder. “Things would have been different.”

“You weren’t ready,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. His hands drifted down her shoulders, his fingers warm through the cotton of her shirt. “It was better that way.”

“Maybe,” she allowed. “Jason, what I went through—I went through it. And I’m on the other side. Mostly. I’ll have bad moments. And they’re not going to be easy for either of us. I really don’t want it or anything else to be the reason you step away from me. Or this. Not when we’re finally on the same page at the same time.”

“I don’t want that either.”

Their eyes met and she wasn’t entirely sure who had moved first, but then he was kissing her. Not just with the sweetness and gentleness they’d shared for the last few weeks, but with something more. Or maybe he’d just stopped holding back.

She wrapped her fingers in his t-shirt as his hands dived into her hair, tilting her head back as Jason drew her closer.

“Jason—” she managed to say. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

He hesitated again, his breath warm and quick against her lips. His eyes asked the question silently and she answered it with a rocking of her hips against him.

There had been enough waiting, enough talking, and she was done with it. Done with waiting for her life to start over. Waiting to take the next step. Waiting to give herself to this man that she had loved for so long.

Somehow, they were in the bedroom, but it wasn’t fast and quick. It was the dreamy slow motion she’d fantasized about so often. She stripped him of his shirt, and then he peeled hers over her head.

Their jeans hit the floor at some point, and then they were on the bed. The tingles she had told him about earlier were back, but they were like piercing needles as the tension built inside her. She wanted his hands everywhere at once, and if not, then maybe his mouth—everywhere he touched her felt like fire.

He slid inside her like she’d always been waiting for him, and she drew in a sharp breath, tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Elizabeth—” Jason’s movements stilled as his hands framed her face, his thumb catching on his tears. “Are you—”

“It’s just…so much more than I ever imagined,” she managed, her voice trembling. “Doesn’t it just…feel right?”

He leaned down, brushed her lips softly. “Yeah.” His hand slid down her bare torso, hooking her knee higher and she gasped at the sensation. How could anything that felt this good be legal?

When the end came, everything shattered inside her. Dimly she could her name was on his lips. And then it was quiet, the only sound in the room was that of their own shallow breathing.

Until she started to gasp for air, clutching at her chest as she frantically rolled away from him, reaching for the oxygen tank at the side of her bed.

September 9, 2019

This entry is part 12 of 31 in the All of Me

Lord make me a rainbow, I’ll shine down on my mother
She’ll know I’m safe with you when
She stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain’t always what you think it oughta be, no
Ain’t even gray, but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life,
Well, I’ve had just enough time
If I Die Young, The Band Perry


Sunday, July 20, 2003

Kelly’s: Courtyard

“I wish I knew what to do with all this anger,” Bobbie said as she leaned back to allow Penny Ramirez to place her salad in front of her. “I almost hope the Quartermaines take on the city for what happened to Brooke, and maybe you should go after them, too—”

Elizabeth grimaced. “Jason and I talked about it again last night. Justus called me to ask if I was interested in changing my mind. He said he was looking over my paperwork and with what happened with Brooke—but I can’t see myself using Brooke that way and—I was angry about what Capelli did—”

Restless, she swirled her straw in her glass of ice, swishing it from side to side. “He was suspended, and I know Taggert put Lucky and those other rookies on the house. What happened to me isn’t even the same league—” She rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe they’re still investigating rapes the same way they were five years ago. It seems insane to me.”

“The rape kit?” Bobbie huffed. “When I think of how hard it was to convince you to turn over your dress and go in for that exam at all—” She shook her head. “To think that it sat for months—”

“I mean nothing came of it, but—” Elizabeth shrugged. “They couldn’t have known that. And how many other women’s cases sat on a shelf, going colder and colder.” She bit her lip. “How is Lucas? He was upset yesterday—”

“Well, that’s at least one good thing that came from all of this.” Bobbie managed a smile. “He said he spoke to you yesterday, so I know you know. He came home yesterday and introduced me to Felix.”

“Felix,” Elizabeth said slowly, not entirely willing to assume how much Lucas had told his mother. “His friend from college?”

“His boyfriend from college,” Bobbie corrected. “To be honest, I suspected for the last year or so—he’s never really had a girlfriend and, well…I’m glad he felt like he could finally live his truth. I don’t know if he’s coming out to anyone else right now, but thank you, Elizabeth. For being there for him yesterday.”

“I’m glad he was able to talk to you. I wish everyone would be as kind to him, but…” Elizabeth picked up her fork. “The world is a terrible place.”

“And I worry about him,” Bobbie admitted, “but at least he doesn’t have to hide from me anymore. And I’m sure Tony will be understanding. I encouraged him to open up to his father, so hopefully…” She scowled as a woman passed by them, heading into the diner. She carried a tote bag that with a sticker proclaiming I’M WITH FLOYD 2003. “I wish someone were running against him.”

“Can’t believe in a city this size we’re stuck with one guy running. Floyd’s been mayor since I moved here. How is that possible?”

“Money and connections.” Bobbie shook her head. “And with ten days left to register for the election, we’ll probably be stuck with four more years of corruption and cronyism. And don’t—” She stabbed her fork in Elizabeth’s direction. “I see your wheels turning. I’m not running against him.”

“Well someone has to and since I’m currently dating a coffee exporter, I’m not eligible.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I just—I hate that Brooke’s family has to deal with this. I hate that this happened. I wish I could have been there for her—”

“You were there, Elizabeth. She called you, she reached out—it’s tragic you missed the call—” Bobbie pressed her lips together. “BJ nearly missed her bus that day. I called for her to hurry up. You went on a ride with your boyfriend. It’s terrible, but it’s human.” She paused for a moment. “Was this—did you ever think of…”

“You mean did I ever think of just doing something to make it all stop?” Elizabeth asked. She folded her arms on the table. “I don’t know. I spent a lot of those first days laying in bed, wanting the world to leave me alone. But I also—I had a goal. I didn’t want anyone to know, and I started measuring my days that way, congratulating myself every day I got through where I kept my secret. I had you to lean on in those first few days—you, Luke, and, of course, Lucky. And then once my grandmother found out—it just started to get easier to breathe.”

She bit her lip. “But if I’d gone through what Brooke did? She was beaten, Bobbie. Given pain pills to cope with her injuries. It was so hard to sleep those few days, and sleep was the only time I could really make it go away. If I’d had something to help me sleep…I don’t know.” She leaned back in her chair. “I hope those rape kits come back and they find this bastard in the system somehow. I want this to be over. I don’t want another girl to go through this.”

Port Charles Hotel: Jax’s Penthouse

Jax put a glass of water down in front of Ned as his friend sat on his sofa, pouring over paperwork spread out over the dark coffee table, but Ned didn’t even look up.

There had been no question of returning to the gate house after leaving the hospital the night before—Lois had gone back to the suite she was sharing with Olivia, shell-shocked and devastated.  And Ned?

Ned hadn’t yet slept. Hadn’t eaten. And would likely not even touch the water at his side.

Jax knew grief — though both of the women he had mourned had turned out to be alive, it hadn’t changed the years of suffering, the lingering ache of sadness. He had watched Brenda’s mother drive that car over the cliff, had searched for her for days, had chased her image around the world, desperate for any hint of her existence.

He would have gone to the ends of the earth to bring back either Miranda or Brenda, but he could not imagine the devastation of losing a child.

Alexis touched his shoulder, jarring him from his thoughts. She tipped her head towards the kitchen, so Jax followed her, leaving Ned engrossed in the newspaper clippings and legal statutes. Brooke’s death had only increased his resolve to go after the city in some way.

“I don’t know how to get him through this,” Alexis confessed, her voice hushed. “He’s been through so much this year—when we lost Kristina last year, then my daughter born prematurely—he had to take care of her—” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to help him.” She looked towards the doorway. “He’s looking for revenge.”

“It’s all he knows,” Jax murmured. He leaned against the kitchen island and dragged a hand through his unruly blonde hair, disheveled from his own lack of rest. “He’s like me. Raised to locate the vulnerability and exploit it for my own gain. It’s what makes us good at our jobs—”

“But shit at personal lives. I know.” Alexis scrubbed her hands over her face. “He’s going to sue the city, but it’s not going to make it better. It never does.”

“Planning revenge gets him through today,” he offered. “And maybe tomorrow. But yeah, he’s gonna look up one day and realize it didn’t get him anywhere.” He crossed his arms. “Have you thought about distracting him with Krissy?”

Alexis heaved a sigh. “I’m thinking it might be selfish to keep asking Ned to maintain this lie.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “He was never supposed to be involved with raising her. It was just a fiction to keep Sonny away from her. But once—”

“Once you faked a mental illness to get out of paying for tossing that pissant over the balcony, the game changed. Yeah, I know.” Jax tipped his head to the side. “Nothing’s changed, Alexis. And it might be good for Ned. He’ll be a better father to Krissy than Sonny ever was.”

“I guess. I don’t know. I just—I wish I knew how to help him.”

“We’re going to help him get his revenge,” Jax said plainly. “However it has to happen, that’s what we’ll do. And then we’ll be there to pick up him when it’s over. We’ll stick together. Just like we always have.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Lucky hesitated when he entered the courtyard, finding Elizabeth sitting at one of the tables, sipping an iced tea. He hadn’t seen her since his memories—and his emotions—had started to return. They were still a jumble of visions and images that didn’t feel like they made a lot of sense — but the time before the fire, that was starting to feel crystal clear.

And those memories—which had been damaged even before the last round of brainwashing—had him taking a deep breath and approaching her table. “Hey. Do you mind if I sit down?”

She glanced up and offered him a hesitant smile. “Yeah. Sure.  I just had breakfast with Bobbie, but she had to run to the hospital. Actually, I’m glad you’re here. Emily landed this morning and we’re meeting for drinks.”

Lucky wasn’t entirely sure she meant that, but he took the seat across from her. “There are some things I have to say to you—things I didn’t tell you the last time we really talked. Or…after the wedding.”

Elizabeth set the menu down and leaned forward, folding her elbows on the table. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I mean—yes. Sort of.” He scratched his temple, trying to figure out exactly how to explain himself. “You know that Helena used the Ice Princess on me to…mess with the way I felt about you. The way I remembered you.”

“I do.” She tipped her head. “Are you starting to remember?”

“What I never told anyone is that…” He hesitated. “Is how far back she’d messed with my memories. When I came home, a lot of my life was…it was like swiss cheese, you know? Holes everywhere. I had trouble remembering my childhood, the people in my life—and you—she hadn’t figured out how to erase emotions but memories—those were messed up.”

“When you came home originally?” Elizabeth asked. She blinked. “But—”

“I loved you—I knew I loved you—but I couldn’t remember why.” He fisted his hands on the table. “And then last year, she wiped all of my memories with you. Nikolas knew the memories were gone, too. Not just the emotions. But everything.”

He finally looked up to meet her eyes. They were soft and deep with sorrow. “Elizabeth—”

“I wish you could have told me that,” she murmured. “I’m sorry we were so far apart by then, Lucky. I’m glad Nikolas could be there for you.”

He exhaled slowly, feeling like his lungs could expand fully for the first time in years. “I tried at first to pretend it was all okay. But I couldn’t. And I started doing a lot of dumb things. I hurt you. And I wasn’t there for my mother when she needed me—” He looked away, pressure building behind his eyes. “I’m good at running away. I ran from you. I ran from my mother. After we rescued my dad last year, I couldn’t pretend anymore. My family was gone. You were gone. I didn’t have anything left.”

“But you’re doing better now,” Elizabeth said softly. “Aren’t you? Bobbie said you liked your job.”

“I met Dante and Cruz at the academy, and they didn’t know me before. They just know me now.” He hesitated. “It made it easier.” He managed a smile. “And then I met Kelsey.”

Elizabeth returned his smile. “Kelsey Joyce? From the DA’s office?”

“Yeah. It’s…new, but it’s nice.” He sat back. “And everything that’s good about my life right now—the things that are working—it just reminded me how things ended with you. How horrible I feel about all of that—”

“I think of how much damage we did to each other,” she murmured, tilting her head to the side. “Trying desperately to recapture those moments before the fire. Everything seemed so perfect, you know? I was in love with my best friend, planning an incredible future. I kept searching for that boy, Lucky. I hurt you. I hurt myself. I hurt people I cared about. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry,” Lucky said with a fervent shake of his head. “Because I know I made it worse. I made you feel like you were responsible for me. And you weren’t. We were all young and we were dealing with something that just…had no easy answers.” He leaned back in chair. “It’s been coming back this last week. Since I got to the park. I interviewed Dillon and I just—I knew the way he was feeling. The guilt, The anger. I could feel it boiling in my veins.”

He grimaced, looked away. “What happened to Brooke was—it was terrible, but we made it worse. We could have stopped it. They knew there was a serial rapist. The DA’s office made the link after the third attack, and Taggert officially took over the cases just before Brooke was attacked, but the mayor decided to block the warning. Couldn’t have it screwing up the summer tourism—” Lucky shook his head. “I’m sorry. This—”

“I was thinking about the pain Brooke must have been feeling and remembering how much I wanted the whole world to go away back then. Bobbie asked if…” Elizabeth stared down at her glass, feeling the condensation with her fingertips. “She asked me if it was something I dealt with. I mean, taking something to make it go away. And I just—I had you. And I had Bobbie, and your dad in his own bumbling way.”

A tear slid down her cheek even as she smiled. “The first day I didn’t go back to school, you came over and—my window was right over the front door? Remember? I was laying in my bed, curled up, with the blankets pulled over my head. Blocking out the world. But I could hear you. I knew I wasn’t alone.”

“I should have taken you to the dance, Elizabeth. We had a deal—”

She laughed, shaking her head even as she wiped at her years. “God, Lucky, no. You had to know I thought it was a date, and you were probably excited at a chance to make it seem like it wasn’t. You liked Sarah. You had your chance. I don’t blame you. I never did.”

“I know. And I tell myself all the time it’s not my fault, but—” He sighed. “I just want to do better. I want to do better by the women this asshole has hurt because it’s the right thing to do, but now because I remember how angry I was when we found out Baker wasn’t going to jail for what happened to you—”

“If I could have been more calm about the whole thing,” Elizabeth said, “if I hadn’t caused a mistrial, Dara Jensen never would have had to make a deal with him.” She bit her lip, drawing it between her teeth. “Baker’s up for parole soon. He sent me some sort of letter last week. I didn’t—I didn’t read it. But he’ll be out soon.”

“Well, that’s one thing Jason’s good for—” Lucky said with a rueful smile. “You’ll probably have a bodyguard.” He blinked. “Do you not have one today?”

“Cody’s inside watching me.” She twisted and gave her guard a little wave. “Jason doesn’t think Ric will approach me in public. Especially since he got permission to go to Crimson Point and stay with his father until the trial. It helps knowing he’s not in Port Charles.”

“It doesn’t worry you?”

Elizabeth jerked a shoulder. “Maybe it should. But what can he can he do to me that he already hasn’t? I have a restraining order, at least for a little while longer. I have a bodyguard. I’m out in public.” She lifted her chin. “I lived my life in fear for months, Lucky, back after my rape. I’m not going to do it again. I can’t let fear run my life.” She raised her brow. “Plus, Justus agreed to come back and take Jason and Sonny’s job offer, and he’s already set me up with the best divorce attorney in the state to handle my case. Ric isn’t going to run my life. Not ever again.”

“Fair enough.”

Emily came into the courtyard, then and Elizabeth hurried to her feet to hug her best friend. Lucky also got up and hugged his oldest friend. It was good to have her back. Especially now that he was starting to feel like himself for the first time in years.

“I’m so glad to see you, even though I wish you weren’t coming home for this,” he said as he drew back, leaving a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry about Brooke.”

“It’s terrible,” Emily agreed, but she managed a smile. “But we’ll get through it. We always do.”

Port Charles Hotel: Suite

Lois placed the phone back on the receiver, then leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes. It was easy to focus on the details of arranging for her daughter to be taken home to Bensonhurst, to purchase a plot in the cemetery, arrange for a viewing with her family and friends back home.

It was easy as long as Lois told herself it wasn’t real. That it was someone else who had died, that everything she had done so far today was for someone else’s child. Not her baby.

Not her Brooke.

In the armchair adjacent to the sofa, Olivia sat with her own lists and papers. She had spent the morning in her bedroom, making phone calls. Olivia Falconieri was more than her best friend, she was family. Her mother was Lois’s godmother, and Gloria Cerullo was Olivia’s. They were god sisters, and in their heavily Catholic neighborhood, that meant something.

Annoying as Olivia often was, Lois knew she couldn’t get through this without her. Olivia had volunteered to call extended family and relatives to tell them about Brooke, leaving Lois to have to tell only her parents. Not having to repeat the devastation over and over again herself—

That was something.

But maybe if she had been saying it over and over again, it would feel real. Olivia had gone into the bedroom to spare Lois from having to hear her say it, but she could imagine it in her head. She’d barely managed to get the words out to her mother — telling her that Brooke had taken too many of her pain pills, medication given to her to lessen the agony she suffered from her injuries.

Injuries.

As if the only thing wrong with her little girl were the visible cuts and bruises.

No, Brooke had been suffering inside and Lois hadn’t been able to reach her. Hadn’t been able to solve her problems. The last time she’d spoken to her daughter before the attack, Brooke had had an attitude, had snarled at her about being sent to Port Charles like she was being exiled to freakin’ Siberia—and Lois had hung up on her.

She’d have to live with that for the rest of her life. She’d hung up on her daughter. Hadn’t listened to her, hadn’t taken her complaints seriously. She’d snapped her cell phone shut and gone on with her day, not once knowing that was basically the last time she’d speak to her daughter—Brooke had barely even spoken to her after she’d woken up.

“Lois,” Olivia said hesitantly, “Monica called me while I was—in the bedroom,” she said after a brief pause. “She understands if you don’t want to come, but she and Lila would like to have something at the house for Brooke.”

Lois squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to go back to that house. Not to the main house where her life with Ned had fallen apart, and certainly not to the gatehouse where Brooke’s despair had led her to the dark abyss.

But Lila had always been kind to her, and she knew from Ned that Monica and Dillon had reached out to Brooke during her time in Port Charles.

She’d come to Port Charles on Wednesday, angry and ready to burn down the world. And she’d been so angry she’d missed her daughter’s pain.

“I don’t want to go,” Lois said slowly. “I can’t—I can’t do it, twice, Liv, and my parents—they need to have something for her at home. I can’t—” Her throat squeezed shut. “I can’t say goodbye twice. But it’s okay. If they have—they can do it.”

“Okay. Do you—” Olivia joined her on the sofa and squeezed her hand. “Do you mind if I go? I’m sure Dante will, and I’m worried about him. I was thinking of hanging around Port Charles a few more weeks, just to make sure he’s okay.”

“Okay.” Lois drew in a shuddering breath. “Okay. Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay. You go to the service here, and then I can take Brookie back home—and I can never set foot in Port Charles again. That works for me.”

Scorpio House: Living Room

 Felicia squeezed her youngest daughter tightly, pressing her lips to the top of Georgie’s head. “I’m so sorry, honey, for what happened to your friend.” She looked at Mac, frowning at her ex-husband as he sat the table, his head in his hands.

Since Mac had picked her up from the airport an hour earlier, he had been quiet. Withdrawn. She knew the press was digging at him, making it all his fault. She’d come home for her girls, but also for Mac. She thought he deserved someone who was in his corner.

“Is it okay if we go out?” Georgie asked, pulling away from her mother. She swiped at her eyes. “We didn’t know you were coming today, and Maxie and I were going to check on Dillon.”

“Of course, baby.” She kissed Georgie’s cheek, then hugged Maxie before the girls left. Once they had, she turned her attention to Mac and sat next to him at the table. “Spill it.”

“It’s been a long month, Felicia.” Mac pulled away from the table and went into the kitchen. He took down a container of instant coffee and started to make himself a cup. “I’m tired.”

“Mac—”

“Look—” He turned to meet her eyes. “The newspapers aren’t wrong. I screwed up the case. I knew some of my guys weren’t doing the job right, but there was a lot going on this year. Alcazar’s murder trial, then Maxie’s overdose last spring, then Carly was kidnapped—I can’t be on top of every case.”

“Of course not—”

“But I should have told the mayor to shove it when he refused to let us issue a warning. I’m—” Mac turned, stared at the cabinets. “I’m not the commissioner this town needs.”

“Oh, come on, Mac, that’s not fair—”

“I’ll never be as good as Robert or Anna. Or even Sean.” He shook his head. “I know that’s what people think. I’m just the lesser Scorpio brother.” He looked at her. “The lesser husband.”

“That’s not fair and it’s not true.” Felicia took his elbow and forced him to turn back towards her. “I messed up our marriage. Not you. And yeah, maybe this case got messed up, but you can’t do it all. The mayor could have fired you—”

“Well, I’m done letting Floyd run my office,” Mac said as he shoved the cup into the microwave to heat it up. “This is the last time I’m going to let him make the call.”

Felicia hesitated, then furrowed her brow. “Does…are there are other times Floyd has asked for a favor?”

Mac was quiet for a minute as the sound of the microwave filled the room. “No,” he said finally. Felicia knew he was lying to her but didn’t call him on it.

If he wasn’t ready to talk about it, there was nothing she could do to force him. He looked like he was wallowing in self-pity, and she knew that wasn’t like him. She would just have to drag him back to reality before she could figure out exactly what he’d gotten himself into.  It was her turn to offer unwavering support, for all the times she hadn’t done right by him.

Warehouse: Sonny’s Office

Jason shifted uneasily in his seat as Sonny signed the last document Bernie set in front of him. Once their business manager had left, he took a deep breath. “Elizabeth still doesn’t know what Tom Baker said. I started to tell her, but—” He hesitated. “I can’t tell her, but I also can’t let it go.”

Sonny grimaced, then stood. He crossed to the minibar and poured himself a drink. “Why?”

“Because Brooke Lynn Ashton was raped at a fountain in the park.” Jason frowned at him. “And she’s dead now. She’s the fourth young woman raped near a fountain this year. Baker’s saying he didn’t attack Elizabeth. It’s gotta be the same guy.”

“Then it’s the cops’ problem isn’t it?” Sonny turned to him, squinting. Jason realized belatedly that this obviously wasn’t his first drink of the day. “I told you, the cops already know about Elizabeth’s case—”

It probably wasn’t even his third. Sonny was drinking heavily again—that was never a good sign. But Jason took a deep breath. “It’s Lois’s daughter, Sonny. And maybe the cops still think Baker’s confession stands. If he was lying that day, it means the scumbag who hurt Elizabeth is still out there—”

“When the cops find him, you can take him out.” Sonny shrugged. “Just like we’re going to do to Ric when the heat dies down. But nothing you can do until then—”

Jason shook his head. He was getting nowhere with this. He was never going to get Sonny’s approval. Good thing he hadn’t planned on waiting for it. “I already did something. I left a tip on their hotline, telling them to look at their cold cases.” When Sonny scowled at him, Jason clenched his teeth. “Look, I know all the reasons we don’t trust the PCPD, but I think Taggert can be trusted—”

Sonny sneered. “Listen to yourself — you’re telling me after everything the PCPD has done this month, you want to give them more ammunition against Elizabeth? What if they take what you give them and put it in the papers, like they did with you going to the house? Those rookies must have told the cops you were there. They twisted it. They gave it to the tabloids—”

“I know that—”

“And you want to give them a reason to discredit Elizabeth?” Sonny shook his head. “You’re not thinking clearly, Jase.” He took a seat behind the desk. “You said Elizabeth still doesn’t know what he said?”

“No.” Jason sat down. “She didn’t want to know.”

“Is that how you want her to find out? The cops leaking to the papers? And look, I get it. Taggert’s always been good to Elizabeth.” Sonny shook his head. “But you know better. She’s connected to you now. And Taggert’s been after us—” He jabbed a finger at Jason. “You tell the cops what Baker told you, it’ll be in the Sun the next day, and then Liz finds out what else you’re not telling her. You think it’ll matter that she told you not to tell her? Once it’s out there in the world? You want to put her on display again?”

“Sonny—”

“Look, I made some inquiries at the PCPD. A guy on our payroll is keeping an eye on the case. Right now, Liz’s case isn’t on their radar. If you’re right, and it’s the same guy, maybe they’ll get him, and he’ll be off the streets. You could tell her then.” Sonny leaned forward. “You broke up with my sister because she cooperated with the cops. How is what you’re doing any different?”

Jason couldn’t answer that. Couldn’t explain why it felt different. He just knew that it was, and he knew that Sonny was wrong about waiting for the PCPD to take care of it. Still, he wasn’t wrong that the wrong cop might hear this information and leak it to the press.

The press fervor over Elizabeth and Carly had only just begun to die down, mostly because of the serial rapes. If Jason went to the police now, he’d just make her part of it all over again. And hadn’t Monica told her to avoid stress? Hadn’t he put her through enough by just saving that damn letter, going to see Baker, and then decided keeping the secret was more important than what she’d asked him to do?

He’d promised her he would put her first and she’d told him to leave it alone.

“They might not pull Elizabeth’s case,” Jason said, finally. “Like you said, they believed Baker’s confession. I did—” He shook his head. “I did what I could to help, and I guess I’ll just let it be enough.”

For now. He looked at Sonny, who was already refilling his glass. Jason had a lot of other things to worry about.