October 6, 2020

This entry is part 23 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

And I don’t wanna let this go
I don’t wanna lose control
I just wanna see the stars with you
And I don’t wanna say goodbye
Someone tell me why
I just wanna see the stars with you
The Fault in Our Stars, Troye Sivan


Thursday, January 8, 2004 

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Jason found Sonny sipping coffee and standing by the window, overlooking the city. Sonny turned at the sound of the door, then cleared his throat when he met Jason’s eyes. “I was expecting to see you last night,” Sonny said, setting his coffee cup on the table.

“You nearly did.” Jason closed the front door on Max’s concerned face. “You have a problem with me, with the way I’m living my life, you bring it to me. You stay away from Elizabeth.”

“I didn’t—” Sonny hesitated. “I didn’t mean to upset her,” he admitted. “I didn’t think she’d—” He looked away. “I didn’t think she’d listen.”

“You went there to pick a fight because you thought she’d fight back. Because I won’t. Because Carly won’t. You need someone to blame, and I’m done with it being Elizabeth.”

“I don’t—” Sonny rubbed his chest. “Fine. Okay. I blame her. I’m trying not to. I know it’s not all her fault—”

None of it—”

“She is the reason Ric is still alive,” Sonny snapped. “If she hadn’t asked for it, he’d be dead. So, yeah, Jason, that is her fault. And it’s your fault for listening to her.”

Jason curled his hands into fists at his side. He very nearly reminded Sonny that if either of them had killed Ric back in April when they’d learned he’d pretended to sleep with Carly after someone had slipped drugs into her drink at The Cellar, but whatever momentary satisfaction he’d get wouldn’t be worth it in the end. “I am done with this argument. We’ve been having it for months, and it doesn’t change anything. You went to my pregnant fiancée three weeks before the wedding and called her selfish.”

Sonny winced. “I—”

“I came home, and she was talking about it being too late to cancel the reception or the church, so all she could do was cut the guest list and cancel the caterer—You made her cry.” Jason stared at his boss, at his partner—at his best friend and family. “You know what she’s been through. You know what she means to me, and you decided to go after her about something that doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter if Ric comes after this wedding—”

You don’t even believe what you saying right now,” Jason bit out. “You don’t like that you’re not in control. That no one is listening to you. That Carly left and refuses to let you see the boys. That I didn’t listen about Ric — and you don’t like that I have my own life.”

“I don’t—” Sonny scowled. “I don’t give a crap about any of that. And I know what Elizabeth means to you—I knew before you did, jackass! I knew years ago—”

“Then why?” Jason challenged. “Why would you do that to her?”

Sonny stared back at him. “I didn’t think she’d listen,” he repeated. “I was just—I was angry. You’re right. You weren’t listening. Carly won’t forgive me, so I went to yell at Elizabeth about Ric —and I saw all that crap on the coffee table—it’s not you, man. Just like last year—”

“It’s nothing like last year,” Jason cut in. “I don’t care what I eat. What I wear. Where we get married. How many people there—I don’t care who she invites. None of that matters to me. I just want her. And whatever she wants—if I can get it for her—that’s what I’m gonna do—”

Sonny growled, but Jason didn’t wait for him to respond. “And I’m sorry if you think that makes me weak. If you think loving her, putting her first, giving her what she needs and wants makes me less — then that’s your problem, not mine. I don’t need to cut people down to be strong, Sonny. That’s you.”

Sonny’s burned as he stalked towards him. “What did you just say to me—”

“You might have lost control in the minute you locked Carly in that room, Sonny, but that’s not an excuse for what you did yesterday. For the way you’ve been treating Carly or Elizabeth. Or me.” Jason put his hands at his waist, then with a shake of his head, looked at the floor. “You think it makes you weak to ask for help. It’s not worth it to you. Carly and the boys—they’re not worth it.”

“You have no right—”

“I was going to bring Michael to see you today,” Jason told him, and Sonny pressed his lips together. “I told Carly I’d find the time because I thought it might help.”

“But now you won’t do that because I made your girlfriend cry,” Sonny said sarcastically.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Sonny. She’s Elizabeth. The woman who stood in front of you, barely lucid, demanding the chance to help you find Carly. She saved my life, lied for me—lied for you—” Jason reminded him. “Elizabeth has never given you a reason not to trust her. And you went to our home where she’s supposed to feel safe, and you made her feel like crap because she wanted to have a big wedding.”

Sonny exhaled slowly. “I know all of that,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know who she is. I just—I forget sometimes.”

“And that’s why you can’t come near her when I’m not there,” Jason told him. “Because I don’t trust you. She and the baby are my priority, Sonny. That’s my family. After everything I’ve done for yours, I’m asking for you just to respect that. You have to be my best man because Elizabeth invited business associates, but if you do anything to mess this up for her again—” Jason didn’t finish. He just shook his head, then left.

General Hospital: Conference Room

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth told the other survivors. “But, this going to be my last meeting for a while.”

“Oh?” Renee folded her arms across her chest. “Why? Because you’re getting married? I-I saw it in the paper—”

“Yeah, and—” Elizabeth paused, looked around the room, into the eyes of other women who had been through the same nightmare. “I found out last week that I have a pretty serious pregnancy complication. I have to rest and keep my stress down. I might even have to deliver early to protect the baby.” And myself. But she wasn’t going to think about that. Couldn’t think about that.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Veronica said, sitting up. “That sucks. You talked a lot about how much you want this baby.”

“Yeah. And while I really think this group has helped, I’m not sure my blood pressure would appreciate this right now,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I hope you will continue to meet. As long as you need to. And I’ll—I’ll be back,” she said, a bit faintly. She wasn’t sure that was true, but she wanted it to be.

“Will we get someone else to lead the group?” Dana asked. She bit her nail. “I don’t know if I want someone new—”

“Well, I talked to Gail about that, and she said as long as someone over the age of eighteen signs for the room,” Elizabeth said, “she’d be happy to keep sponsoring the group. She offered to take over, but she wanted that to be up to you all.”

Dana exchanged a look with Veronica, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I can sign for the room if you want. We’ll see.”

“Thank you, by the way,” Renee said. She picked at the sleeve of her sweater. “I—they ran a video of you at the hearing. And it was—it meant a lot. And I don’t care if he appeals —” She swallowed hard. “It meant a lot that you wanted him to pay for us, too.”

“I was okay with the plea just being for you and the DA,” Veronica admitted, “but, yeah, I think a part of me wanted more. I’m glad I didn’t have to testify,” she added, “but knowing he’ll be in jail for at least fifty-seven years—That makes me feel better. I’ll be able to sleep at night.”

“I used to tell myself that what happened to me that night in 1998,” Elizabeth said, “that it was over. That I made it over a long time ago. And I guess it’s true now in a way it wasn’t before. It’s legally over. The man responsible is in jail. Scott told me that he’s not appealing his sentence. He can’t hurt me again. But I also think it’s not fair to say that to myself. Because telling myself it’s over — it only makes me feel weak when it does come back.”

She paused. “It will always be part of my story. For a long time, it defined me. One day, the nightmares will go away again, but it’s okay if they come back sometimes. Once in a while, I get reminded of what happened. It doesn’t make me weak. It doesn’t make me anything except a survivor. Because it’s a memory now, and memories only hurt you if you let them.”

She reached over to take Renee’s hand, smiled at her. “And I am done letting them.”

Kelly’s: Diner

Taggert shifted nervously in his chair as Portia Robinson hung up her jacket and scarf on a hook next to the door. She turned and flashed him the same smile he’d seen at Luke’s a few weeks ago.

“Hey, you got here first.” She sauntered over to the table and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I was trying to beat you, but you’re always early!”

Taggert squinted. “Early? You’re five minutes late.”

Portia arched her brow as she reached for the menu. “That’s on time for me.”

“Fair enough. Uh, I had a question for you.” He picked up a napkin, then set it down before he ripped it into small pieces. He just wanted something to do with his hands. “I got invited to this thing in a couple of weeks, but I don’t want to go alone.”

Portia put her hand on her chin and fluttered her lashes at him. “What am I saving you from?”

“It’s this wedding. Just the ceremony,” he added. “I can’t go to the reception. I shouldn’t even go to the ceremony,” he muttered. “But the bride—she just has a way of—” Taggert cleared his throat. “You probably know the name. Justus works for him—”

“Oh, the Morgan wedding? Tamika said it’s going to be gorgeous—except, apparently, the bride went crazy and canceled her fancy gourmet menu—” Portia frowned at the menu. “It’s going to be catered by this ribs joint and Kelly’s.” She put the menu down, stared at him. “Jason Morgan. You got invited to his wedding?”

“No, I got invited to Elizabeth Webber’s wedding,” Taggert said carefully. “She happens to be marrying him.”

Portia drew her brows together. “Uh—”

“Listen. Elizabeth—she was just a kid the first time I met her. She—you probably saw it in the news. What happened to her.”

“Yeah, my sister said that was your case.” Portia tipped her head. “You’ve known her that long?”

“Yeah. And she’s had a lot of hard hits. A year after her attack, her boyfriend died in a fire. Well, we thought he did—it doesn’t matter. She grieved hard and then got put through hell when he came back—then she was kidnapped, and the Lansing cra[—” Taggert sat back. “She’s a good kid. And she invited me to the wedding because she thinks she owes me something.”

“Well, you helped catch the guy who attacked her. It’s nice of her—”

“And if she were marrying anyone else, I’d go without complaint, but—” He winced. “Does it have to be Jason Morgan?”

“Well, I don’t know her. Or Jason. But I know my sister and Justus, and they both seem excited for them. Do you not want to go?”

“I don’t.” Taggert winced. “But I do.”

“Ah. You want the bride to be happy,” Portia said slowly, “but you are very conflicted because you would not mind if the groom ended up doing a long stretch in Sing Sing—which would then make the bride unhappy again.”

“Exactly.” Taggert grinned. “You get me.”

“You’re overthinking it, Marcus.” Portia folded her arms on the table, leaned forward. “It’s a wedding. You’re gonna watch someone you like get married to someone she loves. You’ve seen her go through a lot of bad stuff. This will be a nice balance to all of that.”

He sighed, leaned back against his chair. “I tried to tell her no,” he admitted. “Me and Baldwin—the DA—but she just—” Taggert wiggled his fingers. “I don’t know. Whammied us.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Portia told him.

“Sweet, huh?”

“Yeah. And it’s probably what makes you one of the only good cops I’ve ever met.” She smiled at him. “So, yes, if you’re asking me to be your plus one, I would love to.” Her grin turned wicked. “We can sit with my sister and Justus.”

Taggert winced. “Do we have to?”

General Hospital: Cafeteria

“I can’t believe you wanted to have lunch here,” Emily said, setting down her tray with an anemic ham and cheese sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a bottle of water.

“I feel bad I couldn’t go to lunch with you guys at Kelly’s yesterday,” Elizabeth told her as she unwrapped a plastic fork and started to mix together her salad. “And since I had an appointment today—” She shrugged. “Did you get my voicemail about the catering changes?”

“I did,” Emily said slowly, “but I thought you were having some sort of nervous breakdown. Are you really having chili at your reception?”

“Yes.”

“And am I allowed to ask why? Or is this a Bridezilla episode that we’re just going to whistle past?” Emily asked, with a wiggle of her fingers.

“I realized that you and I had been planning this wedding for me. Jason said he doesn’t care, and I know that’s probably true—”

“It really is—”

“Except he does hate formal events. He hates getting dressed up,” Elizabeth told her. “And he agreed because I wanted this. So the least I can do is make sure the food he eats is something he wanted.”

Emily pursed her lips. “Uh huh. I mean, sure, but couldn’t you have figured that out two weeks ago when we chose the menu in the first place?”

“I could have. I didn’t. I made a mistake.” Elizabeth pushed her food around on her plate. “I’ve only been thinking about myself, and Jason gets enough of that from Sonny. He doesn’t need it from me. Not when this is something I can give him.”

Her best friend looked at her for a long moment, then took a deep breath. “How bad were the test results?”

Elizabeth’s hand stilled, then she set down the fork and met Emily’s eyes. “Em—”

“I know you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve enjoyed planning the wedding, and I disagree that you’ve only planned it for yourself, but that’s not the point. Mom’s been very quiet, Dad looks worried. And you’ve said nothing. So I’m just—” Emily paused. “I am someone you can count on, Elizabeth, to do whatever you need me to do. Let me be that person today. Tell me what we’re dealing with, how I can help, and then we’ll put it away.”

“Why does it matter if I tell you now or later?” Elizabeth asked dully, staring at the wilted lettuce.

“Because I think part of the reason you went a little crazy last night and thought about canceling your entire wedding is that something is going on. Something big and terrible. I understand if you and my brother want to keep it quiet. I really do. But ignoring it won’t make it less real.”

“It’s hard to ignore it,” Elizabeth said slowly, “when it’s taking over my life. I’m stepping back from the support group — I’m going to more doctor’s appointments—and Jason is always looking at me like I’m going to stop breathing at any minute. I can’t even be mad at him about that because he’s—” She closed her eyes. “He’s right.”

“Elizabeth—” Emily sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes flaring. “What—”

“That sounds so dramatic,” Elizabeth muttered. She swiped at an errant tear as it slid down her cheek. “I have something called CTEPH. A bunch of letters that basically means that I had more blood clots a few months ago that dissolved on their own but left scar tissue in my lungs. No—the blood vessels in lungs,” she corrected.

Emily sat back, exhaled a long slow, and careful breath. “Scar tissue in the lungs,” she repeated softly. “Which makes it harder to breathe.”

“And more difficult for oxygen to circulate in my blood, which can lead to heart issues, along with other terrible things. There’s a surgery that can correct it, but I can’t have it while pregnant.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Right now, I’m okay. I have a portable oxygen tank. My vitals are steady, and my oxygen levels are normal,” Elizabeth told her. “Monica and Kelly tell me I’m as healthy as can be expected. If I can maintain this level of health, I could get to maybe thirty-two weeks without any health crises.”

“But if you don’t?”

“Then, my heart and lungs could be damaged permanently, and the baby could get hurt.” Elizabeth placed a protective hand over her son. “Right now, the plan is to avoid stress and to rest as much as possible. To monitor everything very carefully. Because I made it very clear I am not delivering until the baby’s health is in danger.”

Emily was quiet for a long time. “Until the baby is in danger,” she said. “Not you.”

“Your mother and Kelly would like me to deliver early. They suggested twenty-eight weeks. I said no. I want to wait as long as I can. I don’t want the baby in the NICU—”

“And I imagine Jason is in favor of any plan where you get to live without needing a double transplant.”

“Probably. I—” Elizabeth looked at Emily. “I haven’t really let him have a say. I know that. And he’s trying to be okay with that. For me—there’s no choice.”

“Okay.” Emily two fingers across her lips. “Okay. Well, okay.” She cleared her throat. “I, uh, guess if you’re healthy right now, there’s no point in having this argument.”

“I think that’s how Jason feels,” Elizabeth admitted. “The condition is rare. Not a lot of pregnant women have had it, and those that were diagnosed around this stage—there’s only two. Neither ended all that well. Um…” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“I knew it wasn’t good when you didn’t tell me,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. I wish this wasn’t happening. I wish I could make it stop.”

“Yeah, well, I chose to stay in that house even after knowing Ric was drugging me, so this—” Elizabeth forced herself to continue. “I made that choice. And I’m not going to let my child pay for it.”

“That’s—” Emily pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “No, I said we’d talk about it, and I’d put it away. You’re in good health, for now, so we’ll just concentrate on that. But if that changes—”

“I know.” Elizabeth smiled faintly. “But for now—I’m marrying the man I love in a few weeks, and I just—I want to let go of the rest of it.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Harborview Towers: Elevator

It had struck Jason as he sat in the office at the warehouse earlier that day with a pile of contracts to sign, three meetings with warehouse managers, bookies, and other men who ran pieces of Sonny’s sprawling organization that he was running everything and still trying to do his old job.

He had been a silent partner when Sonny had approached him about the coffee export front four years earlier — Sonny had been in charge, delegating and overseeing the gambling, the smuggling, and the legitimate business. Jason had been the troubleshooter, enforcing orders that Sonny issued.

He couldn’t remember the last time Sonny had given an order to anyone that wasn’t about Ric Lansing.

When Jason had to skip a doctor’s appointment with Elizabeth that day because of a missing shipment somewhere in the Caribbean, he’d been irritated. As the clock crawled towards six, Jason knew he had three more hours of work before he could go home.

And Sonny was in his penthouse, probably draining another bottle of bourbon. He was separated from his family by his own choices, his own lack of accountability—

Jason would be missing dinner with Elizabeth again because Sonny refused to step up.

He’d looked at Bernie, who looked as tired as he did and told him abruptly to cancel anything that was left. He’d deal with it in the morning, then he’d called Elizabeth to find out what she wanted for dinner, and left.

Now, as the elevator climbed towards the penthouse, Jason knew he had to make changes. He had to either force Sonny to get his head out of his ass and get back to work or delegate more authority to someone else. He couldn’t keep going like this.

Neither of those options were good. He didn’t want to fight with Sonny anymore, wasn’t even sure he knew how to get through to the other man. Maybe if Jason could deliver Ric’s head on a spike to him — that might help.

And for Jason to delegate authority to people under him sent a signal in and out of the organization that there were serious problems between Jason and Sonny—that was the last thing he needed.

The elevator opened, and Jason stepped off, turning towards home. He just wanted to stop thinking about all of it tonight and have dinner with the woman he loved.

Instead, he heard a door open from behind him and Max’s murmured question. Jason stopped, locked eyes with Cody on his penthouse, then turned to face Sonny as his partner came around his corner.

“Jason—”

“What is it?” Jason asked flatly. “I want to get dinner to Elizabeth while it’s hot.”

“I—I, uh, was thinking about this morning. I don’t want to fight,” Sonny said. “You’re right. We keep going around in circles, and we’re getting nowhere.”

Surprised, but cautiously optimistic, Jason nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

“And I’m sure you got a lot to do in the next few weeks with the, uh, wedding—” Sonny scratched his temple. “So I was thinking maybe we just figure out how to get back on track after that. After the wedding, we’ll focus on finding Ric and getting rid of him for good—”

Still not sure how they’d manage that without breaking his promise to Elizabeth and Carly, Jason nodded anyway. “Yeah, when I get back—”

“Get back?” Sonny furrowed his brow. “From where?”

“I’m—” Jason squinted. “I’m getting married, Sonny. And then I’m taking Elizabeth out of town for a few weeks.”

Weeks?” Sonny scowled. “How long? Where? Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe two.” Jason would prefer to get her away from this town until the day she gave birth, but that would definitely be pushing it. Elizabeth deserved a break, and he wanted to be alone with her for longer than a few hours when they slept. They both deserved some time after these last few months. “And I don’t know where yet. We haven’t talked about it—”

“You can’t go away for that long,” Sonny snapped. “Two weeks?”

“You’ve run things without me for years,” Jason retorted, hoping to break Sonny out this insanity. “Bernie and Justus have things organized. Just go into the office. Do what they tell you to—”

“You didn’t even ask—”

“This isn’t a corporate job, Sonny. I don’t apply for vacation time—”

“You answer to me!” Sonny exploded, his voice reaching a new pitch of anger. He slapped a hand against his chest. “You go where I tell you to—”

“The hell I do—”

The penthouse door opened behind him, and Jason turned as Elizabeth stepped out, concern on her face. “What’s going on?” she asked, folding her arms. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you ever stay where you’re supposed to? This is business!” Sonny roared, as he started to step past Jason. With the hand not holding the paper bag, Jason shoved Sonny back.

“In the hallway?” Elizabeth said dubiously. Then she winced. “‘I’m sorry.” She stepped back, started to close the door, but Sonny wasn’t finished.

“Do you think everything is about you? That we need your opinion on everything—”

Jason shoved their dinner at Cody, then looked at Elizabeth. “Go inside,” he told her, then turned back to Sonny without waiting to see if she’d listen.

He heard the penthouse door close behind him. “If you ever talk to her like that again—”

“What are you going to do?” Sonny taunted, tipping his chin up, defiant. “Nothing? You need to put her in her place—”

Jason’s muscles tensed, and he curled his hands into fists at his side. “Go home,” he said flatly. “We’re done.”

Then he walked away from him, grabbed their dinner, and shoved open the door to the penthouse, slamming it behind him.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth turned away from the window when Jason stormed in, tossing the paper bag on the desk. She bit her thumbnail as she slowly approached him. “I’m sorry. I should have stayed inside.”

“Yeah, you should have—” Jason looked at her, then sighed. Shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. It’s—you heard yelling, and I know you wanted to help.”

“I just made it worse—”

“You didn’t. No one could,” he added on a mutter.” Jason stripped off his leather jacket, then grabbed Elizabeth’s jacket she always left on the desk chair. He hung both up in the closet. “Do you mind if we don’t talk about it right now?”

“No, it’s fine.” She cleared her throat. “I’m hungry anyway. We’ll just eat dinner.”

“Okay.” Jason picked up the bag, carried it to the coffee table, and started to unpack. As he handed her the plastic container with the chicken she’d ordered from the Grille, he said, “You haven’t asked about a honeymoon.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth frowned. “I didn’t really think it’d be possible right now. I mean, I got those tickets to Italy for you, but I knew we couldn’t use them. I figured we’d take one in the summer—” She pressed her lips together. “But, I guess maybe we shouldn’t plan anything that far out.”

His breath hitched as the meaning sunk in. Making plans for after the baby was born felt different than they had at Christmas. Were they actually plans or just hopes? Dreams that might never happen?

Jason handed her a set of utensils. “You need a break from Port Charles. You need to be away from stress and time to rest—”

“Jason, I understand,” Elizabeth told him. “Things are crazy with Sonny—and if we left, he might take it out on Carly or the boys. Not that I want to be in the middle of it but better us than her—”

Jason shook his head. “I need a break,” he said softly.

She was quiet for a minute. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know yet,” Jason told her, relieved she hadn’t pressed him for more. “I’ll look into some places nearby. You can’t fly, and I don’t want to be driving for hours. But I want—I want time. With you. Maybe two weeks, if I can manage it—”

“Two weeks—” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “That’s—I was thinking maybe a weekend—”

He exhaled, leaned back against the sofa, and reached for her hand. He traced his fingertips over her engagement ring. “You don’t want to be alone with me for two weeks?” Jason asked her.

Elizabeth smiled, leaned forward to kiss him. “I want to be alone with you all the time,” she told him, her smile deepening. “But I understand it’s not always possible.”

“I’m going to make sure it’s possible.” He cupped the back of her head, drawing her back for another kiss. “How was the hospital?”

She wrinkled her nose and shrugged as she speared a piece of chicken with her fork. “Good. I felt like I spent the whole day there. I had a good meeting with the group—I’m going to miss them, but I know it’s important to take a break from that. And I told you on the phone — Kelly said all my levels are still normal. Monica was happy with my blood pressure. It came down a little.”

“Really?” Jason said, his brows rising. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“Well, it was only two points, so not a drastic improvement, but she was still happy with it.” Elizabeth hesitated. “I had lunch with Emily. And I told her. About…” She cleared her throat. “And I was thinking—” She looked at him. “Do you think it would help if Sonny knew? And you could tell Carly. I think—I think if you want—”

“Carly knows something is up,” Jason admitted, “but I’m going to wait to tell her,” he said. “Because if I tell her, she’ll feel bad about Bobbie not knowing. And you’ll feel bad about it, too—”

“Right. And then I’ll think — well, if Bobbie knows, then I should tell Nikolas. And before you know it, I’ll be right where I didn’t want to be. Everyone worried.” Elizabeth sighed. “Still—”

“I’ll think about it, but Carly seemed okay with waiting. And I don’t know—” He paused. Elizabeth was right — if Sonny knew what was going on with her health, he might back off. He might get himself together.

But he also might not. He hadn’t backed down about Carly after all these weeks, despite what he’d put her through—despite knowing the trauma he’d caused her—and Carly was Sonny’s wife.

And Jason wasn’t sure he was ready to know exactly how Sonny would react to the news about Elizabeth’s health. If he wanted to face the reality of how far away their friendship felt right now.

“I’ll think about it,” Jason repeated. “But for now—I think you were right. You’re doing okay so far, and I just—let’s focus on right now.”

“Right.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “Right now isn’t so bad, right?”

“Not bad at all.” He kissed her again, lingering over her mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This entry is part 22 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

Come on and we’ll sing, like we were free
Push the pedal down watch the world around fly by us
Come on and we’ll try, one last time
I’m off the floor one more time to find you
And here we go there’s nothing left to choose
And here we go there’s nothing left to lose

Nothing Left to Lose, Mat Kearney


Wednesday, January 7, 2004

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

Elizabeth was determined that she wouldn’t let her medical problems take over her whole life. She didn’t want to be obsessing about her breathing, about her pulse, about her blood pressure all the time— she just wanted to live.

And if sometimes that meant pretending she wasn’t sick — well, Elizabeth was just fine with doing that, too.

“Hello, darling,” Lila said as Elizabeth kissed her cheek. “It’s so sweet of you to come by like this.”

Elizabeth sat on the sofa next to the chair and took photos out of her purse. “Well, I know you couldn’t come to the fitting,” she said to Jason’s grandmother, “but Emily said you were hoping to see what the dress looks like, so we took a lot of photos.”

“Bless you, dear.” Lila took the first photo. “Oh, it’s lovely—I thought this would be the dress when Emily showed us the choices.”

“Yeah, I was on the fence,” Elizabeth admitted. “It’s more expensive than I wanted the dress to be, but Emily convinced me to try it on, and—”

When the stylist had helped her step up in front of the three-way mirror—she’d just known. This was the dress she wanted to wear the day she married Jason. “It seems silly to spend so much money on a dress you wear once,” Elizabeth admitted.

“That’s not silly,” Lois said as she entered the room. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—” she said when Elizabeth and Lila looked at her. “I—I just wanted—I wore my mother’s dress when Ned and I were married. The second time,” she added when Lila raised her brows. “We got married at Coney Island.”

“That sounds like it was fun,” Elizabeth said, turning slightly and smiling at Lois. “And you didn’t mind your mother’s dress? I mean—”

“Well, I had a few alterations to update it, but yeah, I thought it would be a good omen. My parents were devoted to each other forever—” Lois paused. “Well, anyway — this is a beautiful dress, Elizabeth. You’re going to look lovely in it.”

“Thanks. I guess maybe I could save it,” she said slowly, then something inside her clutched. If something went wrong — there’d be no daughter to pass the dress to. Would her little boy want it?

“Elizabeth?” Lila asked gently. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “There’s just been a lot of details to deal with these last few weeks. And I’ve been more tired than I was before.”

“Of course, dearest.” Lila patted her hand. “But these photos are so lovely, and I look forward to seeing you and Jason start your life. You’re so wonderful together. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

“Thank you. And—and we’re going to stop here after the ceremony,” Elizabeth promised her, pleased when Lila’s eyes brightened. “I know you can’t come, but it’s so important to Jason and I that you’re part of this day. We love you.”

“That would be wonderful. I look forward to it.”

Later, as Lois walked Elizabeth to the door, she smiled. “You’ve made her day, you know. It breaks her heart that she can’t get around the way she used to.”

“It’s hard for all of us to see her fading,” Elizabeth admitted. “I know how much she means to Jason. She should get to be part of this in any way we can. I thought about having the ceremony in the rose garden, but then I thought—”

“Having the party here might be too much for her,” Lois admitted.

“And there’s other reasons it has to be a neutral place,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “Not everyone we had to invite could come to the mansion. And Jason wouldn’t want them here.”

“Ah. Understood.” Lois paused. “Are you all right? You seem—I know you said you were tired, but—”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth told her. “I just need to go home and relax. I’m going to take a long bubble bath, I think, and try to think about something else.”

“Okay. Well, you know where Ned and I are if you need anything.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason’s Office

Jason grimaced as Bernie set a stack of contracts in front of him. “How? How is there this much paperwork?”

“You think this is bad, think about what I have to do,” Bernie told him as he sat down. “That covers last week and next week’s coffee exports from Colombia and Venezuela. It also takes care of a customs investigation because of a hold-up in Caracas—and the building permits to finish the renovations on the coffee shop—”

“I’m sorry I asked,” Jason muttered as he reached for the first stack. He looked at Justus. “Can I give you the power to sign this stuff?”

“Uh, you could, but when I embezzle everything and run off with my girls to Tahiti, you’ll regret it.” Justus flashed a grin, and Jason’s shoulders relaxed. There were sometimes when coming to this office didn’t feel like a chore, and it was largely because of Justus and Bernie.

He didn’t use to hate his job, but since Sonny stopped even pretending to work after the hearing, everything had been dumped on Jason.

“I also finalized the security for the church,” Bernie said. “After you sent over the final figures yesterday, I talked to Francis, and he’s got it handled.” He paused. “There is one thing we should probably talk about—”

The door to the office slammed open, and Sonny stalked in, shoving between Bernie and Justus, who both got to their feet, warily. Sonny slapped something on Jason’s desk—

Jason sighed, looking down at it. “Is there a problem?” he asked after a long moment, raising his eyes to Sonny’s dark ones. “You knew we were engaged—”

“You’re having a wedding at Queen of Angels,” Sonny bit out. “And a reception at the hotel? Are you insane?”

Jason cleared his throat, picked up the invitation. He’d barely read it when Elizabeth had shown it to him, but he didn’t see anything that would set Sonny off like this — “Are you mad because it’s not the No Name? I—”

“You’re having the ceremony at the same church my wife was abducted from,” Sonny snarled. “You’re marrying Ric’s wife—are you trying to taunt him? Trying to get him to come out in the open?”

Jason stared at him for a long moment, not trusting that he was serious. “Do you really think I’d use Elizabeth like that? Put her in danger—put our child in danger—I’m not the one obsessed with Ric—you are—” He flung the invitation back at Sonny. “We’re having the wedding at the church that I attend, and that allows our guards. If you don’t like it, you can stay home—”

Bernie winced, and Jason glared at him. “What?”

“Uh, not that this is any of my business nor do I want it to be—” the advisor added, “but Sonny can’t stay home—”

“Why the hell not?” Sonny demanded. “You think I want to be part of this?”

His chest tightened, twisted, and Jason didn’t even recognize the feeling at first as hurt. Despite all their issues, all the fights — Sonny was supposed to be his family. He’d even seemed almost happy for Jason a few weeks ago when he’d found out about the engagement.

He’d once thought of Elizabeth like a member of his own family —

Now Sonny didn’t care that Jason was marrying her—that he was having a child—

“Because if you don’t go,” Bernie continued, with an apologetic glance at Jason, “it sends a message to people that there’s an issue. Is that—is that something we want?”

“No,” Sonny said flatly. He took a breath. “No. I just—” He looked at Jason. “Why? Why are you waving a red flag at Ric like this? You could just get married at the courthouse if it’s so damn important to do it right now—”

“This is how things are,” Jason said. “And it’s not up to you.”

Sonny scowled, then stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Jason exhaled slowly, looked at Bernie. “Is that what you were going to bring up? Sonny at the wedding?”

“Yes, well—if you were to scale back the ceremony — a private ceremony,” Bernie said, “then you could get around not having Sonny there.”

“Which I completely understand,” Justus muttered. Bernie shot him a dirty look. “What? What has Sonny done to earn even being invited? He should be worshipping the ground Elizabeth walks on for even inviting him or did you put her up to it—”

“Yes, she did run the list past with me,” Bernie retorted. “As soon as she’d decided to have something larger, she wanted to make sure she’d invited everyone she needed to—”

Surprised, Jason stared at him. “Why didn’t she ask me? I would—”

“You’re running around putting out fires all the time,” Bernie said. “She didn’t want to bother you, and I took care of it, so no, Justus, I didn’t make her invite Sonny. He was already on the list.” He paused. “In the bridal party.”

“The bridal—” Jason winced, then sat down, put his head in his hands. “He needs to be the best man.”

“He does. That’s what I wanted to bring up. Elizabeth already had him listed that way, but I wanted to make sure you were on the same page.” Bernie paused. “If you’re determined to have this large of a wedding—”

Jason frowned, looked up, then looked at Justus. “That’s the second time you said something like that—what’s the problem?”

“The problem is,” Justus said with a sigh as he sat back down, “is that Sonny isn’t wrong. Marrying Ric’s wife—”

Ex,” Jason snapped.

“Not to Ric,” Justus said calmly. “Marrying his wife, after he went after her about an affair with you—knowing she’s pregnant—the same church—if Ric is paying attention—”

“I thought about that,” Jason said. “You think I didn’t?”

“Of course not—”

“We’ve doubled security. Elizabeth will have two guards that day—one to stand right next to her, and another to follow her inside. I also don’t think—” Jason shook his head. “I’m aware of the risk. I don’t agree it’s as serious as you obviously do, but if you looked over the guest list, then you know Elizabeth invited the Vegas. And the Tagliattis.”

“And the Ruiz family is sending a representative,” Bernie said. “She did not reach out to the Zaccharas, but I followed up with Anthony. He wasn’t expecting anything less with the bad blood.”

“Courtney—” Jason grimaced. “She didn’t want all those people at the wedding last year, and I didn’t push her on it.” He hadn’t cared about the guest list. Or the wedding. Or about marrying Courtney at all, which should have told him something. “But they’ll be there this year. With their security.”

“He might want the challenge—”

“Or he might not. Am I supposed to tell Elizabeth after everything she’s been through that this is one more thing Ric Lansing is going to take from her?” Jason demanded. He shoved the contracts aside. “No. We have the security we need, and Elizabeth gets this. Is that understood?” He glared at the both of them, waiting for them to complain.

“Of course.”

Jason left the office, and Justus winced as he slammed the door. “This building is going to come down again if this keeps up,” he muttered.

“That went well,” Bernie said pleasantly. “I’m sure we glad we decided to do this today.”

“Shut up.”

Kelly’s: Diner

Emily grimaced as she leaned back in her chair. “Why did we have to grow up?”

Nikolas frowned, then traded a look with his brother before looking back at their best friend. “Because that’s how the body works?”

“And time,” Lucky said, with a serious nod. “It—you know—marches forward.”

“I will pummel the both of you,” Emily muttered. She played with the straw in her drink, then sighed. “No, I just—I liked it when our problems were easier.”

“Whose childhood are you remembering?” Lucky asked. “Because I got shot when I was thirteen—”

“Eighteen,” Nikolas said with a nod. “I was definitely shot when I was eighteen—oh,” he pointed at Lucky, “and you shoved me down the steps when I was—what, sixteen?”

Lucky snapped his fingers. “I moved out at that age—”

“Is this a comedy act the two of you have put together?” Emily said, narrowing her eyes. “Because it’s closing on opening night.”

“We’re just messing with you,” Lucky told him. “Well, I am—you know Cassadines—there’s no sense of humor there—”

“Listen, I picked a very funny picture of you for the Spencer dartboard,” Nikolas told him. “You’re making a weird face, I think you’re sneezing—”

“That is the second time he’s mentioned Spencer dartboards,” Lucky said to Emily. “I think they’re real.”

“I wouldn’t try to find out. You could catch me in the middle of a practice session, and I might get confused—”

Emily growled, and the brothers tried to cover their snickers. “Sorry, Em,” Nikolas said, putting his hands up. “You just—you looked upset. And we wanted to cheer you up. What’s wrong?”

“I know we’ve all been through a lot,” she said. “I know we did not have a normal childhood. But I just—I miss when we could see each other all the time. This is the first time the three of us have managed to grab lunch since September. And Elizabeth can’t be here. I just—I miss it. I miss us making time for each other. And if Lucky weren’t living here, I wouldn’t even see him half—” Emily paused. “Why are you making that face?”

“Well, if you’re counting Kelly’s to keep us together,” Lucky said, wincing, “then you’re going to be really mad. Because I’m moving out at the end of the month—”

“Wait—wait—” Emily put up her hands. “Are you talking about Kelsey? Are you and Kelsey moving in together? Because that’s awesome!” She grinned. “Lucky!”

“Mom will start planning the wedding when you tell her,” Nikolas told Lucky. “You ready for that?”

“I’m not telling her until the last minute, so no—but, yeah, we just decided last night. I gave Aunt Bobbie my notice this morning.” Lucky wiggled his shoulders. “Talk about growing up. The last time I lived with someone, it was just Elizabeth and I sharing a room upstairs. And that—” He whistled. “Did not turn out well.”

“Pfft. Don’t even count that,” Emily told him with a shake of her head. “You were brainwashed, and Liz was barely there.”

“Oh, man, that hurt.” Lucky wrinkled his nose. “I mean, yeah, it’s true, but still. Speaking of my ex-fiancée—” He looked at Nikolas. “You get an invitation to the wedding of the year?”

“I did, but I’m also supposed to be giving the bride away. I wasn’t sure if you’d go considering she’s marrying Jason.”

“Eh, I’m in Major Crimes, not Organized. I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Also, Luke Spencer is my dad, so…” Lucky shrugged. “Kelsey might sit it out, though, I think. She doesn’t really know either of them, and I don’t think she’s as comfortable with the blurry lines in Port Charles yet.”

Nikolas tipped his head in agreement, then frowned at Emily. “You just got that look on your face again. What’s up?”

“Oh—it’s—it’s nothing.” Emily hesitated. “It might be something, but I don’t know if I should say anything—”

“Oh, man, we’re going to be here all night.” Lucky raised his brows. “Em—”

“Elizabeth was supposed to have these tests last week,” Emily admitted finally.

“Tests?” Nikolas repeated, leaning forward. “Wait—”

“She’s been having some breathing problems,” she continued, “and she was supposed to find out a few days ago, but she keeps dodging the question, and I finally stopped asking—” She shredded a napkin into small pieces. “I guess I’m wondering if no news is good news or if no news is the apocalypse—”

Nikolas, looking a bit uneasy, glanced at Lucky, who also looked worried before focusing on Emily again. “I think we should just let Elizabeth set her own pace,” he said finally. “She’s been dealing with a lot. She’ll share whatever it is when she’s ready.”

“I know. I know. I just—I’m just tired, you know, and I want some good things to happen.” Emily pasted a smile on her face. “So let’s just concentrate on the good. I’m really excited for you and Kelsey.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth sat down on the sofa and reached for the remote. A long soak in the bath and a nap had been all she’d needed to get some energy back. She flicked through the channels, then settled on Oprah. She dragged a pillow in front of her, holding it against her chest, and prepared to relax.

Around ten minutes later, she heard some muffled voices outside her door—and she sighed, recognizing Sonny, Cody, and Max. Elizabeth got to her feet and shuffled to the door, pulling it open.

“Miss Webber, I got this—” Cody told her, but Elizabeth frowned at him, looking at Sonny standing in the doorway, glaring at her with a beleaguered Max just behind him.

“Got what? What’s wrong?”

“He’s trying to tell me I can’t come in without Jason here,” Sonny bit out. “You think I’m going to slap you around or something?”

“Uh…” Elizabeth blinked. “I’m not—I don’t—” She looked at Cody oddly, then sighed. It must have something Jason said. “No, come in, Sonny. It’s fine.” The least she could do for Jason was to do whatever she could to relieve tension with Sonny.

“Miss Webber—”

“It’s fine, Cody.” Elizabeth stepped back, and Sonny stalked through the door. “I’m sorry, Sonny,” she said, determined not to make any waves with Jason’s best friend. She was putting Jason through enough — she could at least try to make nice with Sonny. “I’ll talk to Cody.”

“I know—” Sonny took a deep breath, turned to face her. “I know I was wrong. I’m sorry. I apologized. I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“Sonny, we’ve been through this. Really. I don’t think you’d hurt me.” At least not today. “What’s wrong? You look upset.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me you were throwing this huge wedding?” he demanded. “The same church where Ric kidnapped Carly? A party at the hotel? Did you even think about her before you did this?”

Elizabeth folded her arms across her chest, looked at the floor, feeling the tendrils of shame curl in her throat all over again. “Jason talked to her over Christmas. I’m not really into church the way you and Jason are, so I didn’t think about it after he said it was fine. When Emily and I started talking — she just said Queen of Angels, and I didn’t think about it—”

“Of course not.” Sonny shook his head. “I thought you understood Jason. I really thought you got it this time.”

Elizabeth blinked, stared at him. “What? What are you talking about?”

“When Courtney told me about that huge wedding—I knew it then—I knew she didn’t get him. Jason—” Sonny gestured towards the coffee table, and Elizabeth looked at it. Covered in wedding magazines and invitation samples. “I mean, do you think Jason wants any of this?”

“He told me—” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “He didn’t tell me no—” Which wasn’t the same thing.

“When has he ever told you no?” Sonny demanded. “What? Once?”

“I—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, feeling her lungs start to burn. She pressed her fist against her chest. “But he talked to Carly,” she said again. “He said it was okay—”

“What is she supposed to say? And what about me? What about Michael? You think any of us want to go back there?”

“I—” A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“No, you don’t. You never do. It’s always about you, Elizabeth. You think that I don’t see that? It’s always about what you need. How many times did you play with Jason? Shoving Lucky in his face? Zander? Ric?” Sonny shook his head. “I thought you were different this time. I thought you’d grown up. But you’re still the selfish little girl who runs away when things get hard.”

“Not like that—” She closed her eyes. “That’s not—” Elizabeth tried to take a deep breath, but her breath caught in her throat, and she almost choked on it. She turned away from Sonny.

Inhale slowly. Count to fifteen. Exhale. Inhale slowly—

“I’m sorry,” Sonny said after a long minute. His voice was quieter. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You’re right.” Hot tears snaked their way down her cheeks. “You’re right. I didn’t think at all. I just—I was so happy when he asked, and I wanted to be married to him. And it just—I just thought about what I wanted. I am selfish.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I didn’t mean to forget about Carly.” She turned back to Sonny. “I know you think it’s my fault this is happening—all of it—”

Sonny blinked rapidly, put his hands up. “Listen—”

“Maybe it is. Maybe I do just think about myself too much,” she murmured. “I should think more about Jason. I shouldn’t be making his life harder.” And that wasn’t that all she’d done for months? For years? Give him one more thing to worry about?

“Uh—” Sonny scratched his temple. “I didn’t expect you to agree—”

“I just—Jason goes to church almost every week,” Elizabeth told him, desperate for Sonny to understand that she’d just made a mistake. “He still goes, so when Emily asked where I wanted to get married—I thought he’d want that. I mean, was I wrong?”

“Well, no—but—” he paused. “I guess I just don’t know why you’d want something big. After last year. He nearly married Courtney in that church. Less than a year ago. Why would you want it there?”

Because she didn’t think about Courtney, Elizabeth thought to herself. Until she’d gone to the church the day before, had seen that folder — Courtney had seemed like a bad dream. A nightmare that was over.

“I shouldn’t have come over like this,” Sonny said when she remained silent. “I’m sorry. I just—I was angry. And I wasn’t thinking. I have to think more,” he said more to himself. “I have to stop.”

“It’s okay,” she said faintly. She looked at him. “I know you love Jason, Sonny. He’s a brother to you. I don’t want to come between you.”

“You’re not. Christ—” Sonny scrubbed his hands over his face, seemed to look at something in the distance. “I think sometimes I just—I want to scream at the world,” he said finally. “I don’t always have a reason. Everything is wrong. And I don’t know how to stop it.”

Elizabeth rubbed the side of her face. “It’s fine. Your delivery might leave something to be desired, but you’re not wrong. This wedding—it’s not Jason. And he deserves it to be about him. I’ll—I’ll fix it.”

“He’s going to kill me,” Sonny muttered. “Don’t—damn it.” He spun on his heel, jerked open the door, only to see Cody standing there. “Get out of my way,” he said, shoving the guard back and stalking around the corner to his penthouse.

“Miss Webber?”

“I’m fine.” Elizabeth brushed at her cheeks, looked at the concerned guard, and forced a smile on her face. “I’m fine. Thanks, Cody. Did—did Jason tell you Sonny couldn’t come in when he’s not here?”

“He did—”

“Okay. I’m fine,” she told him again, and this time Cody got the message and closed the door, leaving Elizabeth alone.

The Cellar: Office

Jason knocked lightly on Carly’s door, and she sprang up from her desk. “Jason! I’ve been thinking about you all day.” She dragged him into the office, closing the door behind them.

“Is this going to make my day worse?” he asked with a sigh as he walked over to look at Morgan in the bassinet. He adjusted the infant’s blanket before turning back to Carly, who was scowling at him. “You usually mean well, but—”

“You wish all we had to deal with were my plans,” she muttered, folding her arms. “No, I was thinking about you because the invitations came, and Mama found out from Taggert that Elizabeth talked him into going to the ceremony. Did you know?”

“I did,” Jason said, blinking with surprise. “I knew she was inviting Taggert and Baldwin. I didn’t think they’d go—”

“Well, they’re softies,” Carly said. “Seriously, Jase. Sonny is going to flip—”

Jason winced, looked away, then scratched his temple. “Too late. He’s not happy about any of it. The size of the wedding. The church. He thinks we should get married in the courthouse.”

“He would. He .” Carly lifted her brows. “I was surprised when Elizabeth talked to me about the guest list. She thought I should know if there were people who should be invited since I’ve planned a few of these—”

“A few?”

“Don’t start.” But she was relieved to see him cracking jokes—even at her expense. “She didn’t want to mess anything up—but Sonny’s never cared about any of that crap. I told her to talk to Bernie—since his brother was who I usually asked.”

“Thanks. He helped out—”

“So, what brings you by?” Carly asked. “You only come here when you’re avoiding something. Is it the wedding? Do you want it to be smaller? Because, listen, it’s probably too late for that—”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Jason told her. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t. Elizabeth can plan whatever she wants. As long as we’re married at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter to me. I just want her to be happy.”

“Okay,” Carly said slowly. She didn’t buy that for a second. “Then—is it about the tests I’m not supposed to know about?” Jason’s head snapped around to look at her. Whatever lightness she’d inspired earlier had disappeared.

“Yeah, after you came here last week, I might have said something to Mama about things not being okay. She got worried and went to talk to Emily. Apparently, Elizabeth was waiting on some test results and went radio silent after they were supposed to come in.”

Jason stared at her, then looked away. “I can’t get into it, Carly.”

“Okay. Is that another reason you’re on board with this wedding? Because Elizabeth is sick, and you want her to have whatever she wants?” Carly asked, hesitantly. “I’m not sure that’s a great way to handle it—”

“I came to check on you because Sonny’s been aggravated a lot lately, and he tends to take it out on you,” Jason cut in. “So—”

“He came by yesterday, wanting to see the boys. I told him not without therapy or you.” Carly sighed. “And I did that knowing full well he’d never ask you and I didn’t want you in the middle of it. I was thinking maybe I was too hard on him.”

Jason frowned at her, drawing his brows down with a shake of his head. “What do you mean? Are you having second thoughts about leaving—”

“No, I needed to be out of that situation,” Carly admitted. “I know I made the right choice for me. I just don’t know if I’m doing the right thing with the boys. With Michael.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it would help if he saw them.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Let me look at my schedule this week. I could bring Michael over to hang out for a few hours—”

“Jason, I don’t want to add any burdens—”

“You’re not. You didn’t ask. And my life would be easier if Sonny got himself under control, so—” Jason nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, Jason. I just—I wish we could skip to the part where this is all over, but it never seems to be finished, does it?” Carly asked.

“No,” Jason said on a long breath, “it doesn’t.”

“You’ll let me know if I can do anything for you or Elizabeth, right?” Carly asked.

“We’re fine—”

“Jason.” Carly waited for him to look at her. Meet her eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. I can take the hint, but don’t lie to me, either.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll call about taking Michael to see Sonny.”

Harborview Towers: Hallway

Jason frowned when Cody stepped in front of the door, blocking him from going inside. “What’s wrong?” he asked, dreading creeping up his spine. “Did Sonny try to come over?” Damn it—

“He did. And Miss Webber heard us, so she came to the door and insisted on letting him in.” Cody paused. “I didn’t hear much, so they didn’t argue, but she looked like she’d been crying when he left.”

Jason closed his eyes, then nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s—I know what I told you, but Elizabeth is her own person, and her orders come first. You get that, right?” Jason asked the guard. “She will always come first.”

“Yeah.” Cody nodded slowly. “Yeah, I got it, boss. I remember.”

“Good. You’re done for the night, thanks.”

Jason pushed the door open, frowning when he saw Elizabeth pacing from the fireplace to the window by the pool table, then back as she spoke on the phone. The coffee table was exploding with papers—her wedding binder, he realized, his stomach sinking. With papers pulled out and sections strewn out on any available surface.

She looked at him, and he could see the faint tear stains Cody had mentioned. “I’ll be done in a minute,” Elizabeth said to him, before turning back to the phone. “Yeah. Yeah, I appreciate it. I know it’s last minute, but it’s important. No—no, I promise, I’m not turning Bridezilla on you. You did a great job. I was the one who was wrong—”

“Elizabeth—”

She shook her head, then passed him to grab her purse from the desk. She took out her wallet. “Yeah, let the vendors know that if there are any change fees—” She reeled off her bank card—the bank card he knew was attached her own checking account, not one of his. Jason removed his coat, wondering if she’d just canceled the entire damn wedding—

He was going to kill Sonny.

He picked up her jacket, slung as usual over the desk chair, and hung it up with hers, wondering how he was going to handle this.

“Okay. I appreciate it,” she repeated. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Elizabeth snapped her phone shut and looked at him. “Don’t get mad.”

“I’m not mad, I’m worried—what did Sonny say to you?” he demanded.

“Don’t be mad at him either. I can’t fix everything. I thought about it,” she admitted. “But you already went to so much trouble at the church for security, so I can’t change that unless we reschedule the whole thing, and I don’t want to do that—”

She was still planning to marry him, so some of the muscles in his stomach unclenched. “You don’t have to change anything—”

“But I canceled the caterer. I threw around Edward’s name to get that done, so I think we might not get screwed on the contract too much. He’s always telling me to do that, so—” She took a deep breath — and he watched her pause, knowing she was counting to fifteen.

“Sit down—” Jason said, taking her by her hips, steering her backward to the sofa. “You were supposed to relax today—”

“I did. I took a nap, and I had a bath. I’m fine. I’m just tired,” Elizabeth told him. “I thought maybe I could just cancel the reception—”

“Hey—” Jason took her hands in his. “Sonny doesn’t get to have a say in our wedding—”

“No, but you didn’t either. And I know you’re going to tell me you don’t care,” Elizabeth said when Jason opened his mouth. “And I know that’s true. But I care. I want you to have a good time—”

“I will—”

“Jason—” She pressed her lips together. “I canceled the caterer,” she repeated. “I kept the cakes, though, because I really wanted that chocolate fudge.”

“Elizabeth, what are we going to eat?” Jason asked with a laugh that was threaded with more nerves than humor. He didn’t know what to do with this side of her. “You can have whatever you want—”

“What I want is for this to be our wedding. Not mine. So I’m going to tell Taggert and Scott I appreciated them agreeing to come to the ceremony, but that I was trimming the guest list. I can’t cut all of the guests,” Elizabeth continued, “and because I invited business associates, we can’t cancel the reception altogether, but I got rid of a lot of the decorations and some of the flowers in the church—”

Jason leaned forward, cut off her stream of words with his mouth. She sank into him, curling her fist in his shirt. “I love you. You don’t have to cut anything or anyone you want to have there—”

“It’s too late. I called Eli’s, and they were a little surprised,” Elizabeth admitted, “but they agreed to cater. And Bobbie said that she can get Don to whip up things from Kelly’s—chili and sandwiches—I made sure he’s going to have your usual. Plus, I also talked Edward into letting me use the Grille’s kitchen for all of that, and I’m grabbing a few things from their menu because of the chicken and fish options I put on the RSVP card—”

Jason just shook his head. “I wouldn’t have cared about any of it—what did Sonny say?”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“It does to me.”

She hesitated, then sighed, staring at her lap. “He just reminded me that sometimes I make things all about me. And that’s true—” Elizabeth frowned at him when he swore, “Don’t shake your head. You know that’s true. I can’t—I can’t fix that. I can’t go back in time and not hurt you—”

“Damn it, I’m going to kill him—”

“He was trying to help in his own, really aggravating way—” Elizabeth grabbed his hand as Jason started to stand up. “I can’t. We both know that the scales aren’t balanced. I hurt you more than you ever hurt me—”

“I don’t give a damn—”

“But I do. And it’s important to me that I make sure I put you first when I can.” She bit her lip. “I can’t—I can’t change my mind about the baby. I’m sorry. I know you want me to—”

“Elizabeth—”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the sentencing. That wasn’t fair. And I definitely should have believed you about Ric. And Lucky. And Zander,” Elizabeth said, with a wince as Jason just shook his head. “I can’t do anything about all of that. But I can—at the very least—make sure that the happiest day of my life is not a day you have to wince and get through.”

“It was never going to be like that,” Jason told her. She pressed her lips together in a mutinous line and glared at him, he sighed. “But if you’re telling me you went to all this trouble so I could have a pastrami on rye on our wedding day, I guess I can’t be that mad.”

Elizabeth sighed. “You get it.”

“No,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “I don’t. But this is important to you, and I’m not going to argue.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “You don’t have to cut guests. The menu—that’s fine.”

“You don’t really want Taggert and Scott at the wedding. You told me that,” Elizabeth said, “but I didn’t care—”

“Did you want to invite the Vegas?” Jason asked. “The Tagliattis? Did you want to check the guest list with my business manager to make sure you invited the right people and didn’t insult anyone?”

“Jason—”

“Thank you. For doing that. I didn’t think about it,” he admitted. “It does make things easier. Sonny and I should pay more attention to that kind of thing. Especially now that we have kids.” He paused. “So, if you’re inviting my people, I want you to have your people there.”

“Even if they’re a DA and a cop?” Elizabeth asked skeptically. “I only invited Lucky because of Emily and Nikolas—Oh, God, I invited my ex-fiancée—How do you put up with me?” she asked, putting her head in her hands.

“Well, technically, Carly’s my ex, and you invited her,” Jason said, amused now that the storm seemed to have passed, and the worst thing that had happened was he would actually get to eat the food he liked. Most importantly, she was still marrying him.

She wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Yeah, right.”

“As long as you don’t drag Zander back from wherever he disappeared to, I think we can say it’s even—” Jason waited, relieved when she smiled. “Thank you. For going to this trouble for me. You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, I did.” Elizabeth brushed her fingertips against his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This entry is part 21 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

Lately, things been getting so crazy
I’m feeling like my heart hates me
It’s racing
I just wanna stay in the dark
Turn off all the lights
Come hold me tight
Where we going?
Stay in the Dark, The Band Perry


Tuesday, January 6, 2004

Queen of Angels Church: Anteroom

The strange feeling had settled over Elizabeth as she and Jason had approached the church, walking through the courtyard lined with gravel. She glanced around, tightening her fingers around his hand.

She hadn’t been here that night, but now she wondered—

“When Emily offered to call Father Coates,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, “I didn’t think about the church. I should have—”

Jason stopped, turned to her with his brows drawn together. “Because of Carly? I talked to her.”

“Right,” she said with a nod. “And I know she’s going to come through a different entrance, but—” She hesitated. “It’s not going to cause more trouble with Sonny? This feels like the kind of thing—”

“I don’t care.” Jason shook his head. “This is our wedding, and Father Coates has always been understanding about security. If Carly had an issue, maybe that would have changed things.”

She knew he was right, and security was important, of course, but Elizabeth couldn’t quite shake the feeling tugging at her that something just wasn’t quite…right.

Inside, they greeted the priest that would preside over the wedding. Father Coates gestured for them to join him in his office to finalize arrangements for the end of the month. As he turned to point in the direction of his office, the folders in his arm became visible.

And she saw it. Two folders, one just slid behind the other so that both their labels were visible. Morgan-Matthews, 6/19/03, and Morgan-Webber, 1/31/04.

This wasn’t just the church where Carly had been kidnapped, where the entire nightmare had begun—

It was also the church where Jason had nearly married Courtney—would have married her if not for Carly’s kidnapping.

So much of that night was a complete blur to her, but Elizabeth had flashes, and she’d known Jason and Sonny had been in tuxes—both ties had been untied by the time they’d reached the house—

“Elizabeth?”

Blinking, Elizabeth focused on Jason, who had started to follow Father Coates. “Oh. I’m gonna walk around the church if that’s okay. There were a few things the wedding planner wanted me to look at it.”

When Jason hesitated, Elizabeth gestured at Cody standing behind her. “I’m fine. You know the security stuff better than I do.”

All right,” Jason said finally but looked at her one more time before following the priest into the office.

“I’m just going to walk down the hall,” Elizabeth told Cody. “Can—” She sighed. “Can you go clear the room at the end of the hall and give me a minute?’

The guard studied her for a minute, then nodded. “Sure thing, Miss Webber.” When he came back, he gave her nod, and Elizabeth decided that it was better to get the whole thing over with. Exorcise all the demons.

She went to the bridal suite. The room where she’d complete any final touches—where she would wait with her wedding party—The room Elizabeth knew Courtney had waited for her own wedding to Jason to begin last year. In her wedding dress.

Elizabeth didn’t even know how long she’d been standing there, seeing the other woman waiting to marry Jason in her mind.

Had Courtney had any doubts? Had she known when she called the PCPD that night that it would lead to all of us—

“I didn’t think about it being the same church,” Jason said from behind her. Elizabeth frowned, turned to him. She hadn’t even heard him approach.

“It’s fine. I mean, I knew you were supposed to get married that day. And I can’t—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I was already married.” But it felt different, and she couldn’t quite understand why—because Jason had started dating Courtney before Elizabeth had even really understood they were over? Had really accepted it?

“You married Ric because you were pregnant and alone,” Jason said slowly. “I don’t have that excuse—”

“Jason—I’m not—” Elizabeth paused. “It’s not that.” Except — “Maybe it’s that a little bit. I’m sorry. We decided a long time ago we were done talking about before—” She rested her hands on their son, the flutters in her belly. It steadied her, remembering all the reasons they were here today. It really didn’t matter.

It shouldn’t matter.

“We’re standing in the church where I nearly married another woman less than another year ago,” Jason cut in, and she was relieved to see he wasn’t irritated or upset by the turn in her thoughts. “The fact we both rushed into new relationships after everything that happened between us—” He brushed his fingers down her cheek. “I didn’t want to think about you. About you with someone else. I wanted to be over it. So I told myself I was.”

“After you married Brenda—and I found out about Courtney—I definitely—” Elizabeth sighed, wistfully. “I definitely didn’t want to mess up my next chance to be happy. I’m sorry, Jason. Sometimes I think about that night in Luke’s when you told me you were getting divorced, and I wish I’d said something else. Anything else.”

“It’s okay.” Jason leaned down, kissed her gently. “I didn’t marry her. And Ric’s almost out of our lives. We’re right where we should be. Where I want to be.” He paused. “We can get married somewhere else—”

“It’s just a building,” Elizabeth smiled up at him. “We’ll get married here at the end of the month, and it’ll be beautiful. Then, in a few months, we’ll have our son—” She watched his face tense. “I know you’re still mad—”

“I’m not mad,” Jason said. He shook his head. “I just—” He paused. “Do you really want to talk about this?”

“No.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “No. It won’t change anything, and I just—go finish your meeting with Father Coates. I want to look at the chapel.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was just—a ghost I didn’t know I needed to exorcise or something. Last year—we went through a lot. But we’re done with it now. And—and we’ll get through the rest of it.” She smiled at him, and they walked out of the bridal suite, Jason closing the door behind them.

Brownstone: Foyer

Carly scowled at Sonny. “How many times are we going to have the exact same conversation? No, you cannot see the boys until you either schedule an appointment with a therapist or Jason is with you.”

“Damn it, Carly, you have no right to keep my kids from me!” Sonny shot back. He slapped his hand against the stone wall of the Brownstone’s exterior, then put his foot in the doorway to keep Carly from shutting him out.

“Then take me to court, Sonny,” Carly retorted. “Go ahead. File a custody claim. Pay all the judges you want — you’re not getting near my boys until I’m satisfied they’re safe.” She stomped on his foot, and Sonny winced—but moved his foot long enough for her to slam the door.

She leaned against it, closing her eyes as her mother lifted her brows from the living room. “Don’t look at me like that, Mama. I’m doing the best I can.”

“I’m wondering if it might be time to try something different,” Bobbie said slowly as she joined her daughter in the foyer. “Sonny’s going to wander over here every few days or so to scream at you about the boys. Have you thought about asking Jason to arrange a visit—”

“Absolutely not. Jason has enough going on in his life right now. Something is wrong with Elizabeth—” Carly shook her head. “I don’t know what it is. But he came to the club a few days ago and looked really distracted and upset. He said they’re not ready to talk about it.”

“Something wasn’t right at the fitting,” Bobbie admitted. “But I thought maybe she was thinking about the church. They’re meeting with Father Coates today,” Bobbie explained when Carly frowned. “And I know Jason talked to you about Queen of Angels. It’s just—I’m not sure if they’ve thought about it also being the church where—”

“Where Jason nearly married Courtney.” Carly rubbed her chest. “No, it’s not that, Mama. She isn’t talking to you either?”

“She didn’t say a word—” Bobbie sighed. “Well, I’ll just have to drag it out of her—”

“Don’t say anything, I’m not supposed to know anything. I don’t think she’s told Emily either. It’s not the wedding. The twit isn’t that dumb—”

“Carly—”

Carly closed her eyes, winced. “Sorry. Reflex. Jason knows what’s going on, so I’m sure we will eventually. Let it go for now.” She rubbed her temple. “I’m just tired, Mama. Am I being too hard on Sonny? Should I let him see the boys?”

“I don’t know,” Bobbie admitted. “At first, I was on your side. I still am—I don’t want you to go back to him. Or take the boys to stay with him. But, baby, he’s not going to get help. And if you’re not willing to ask Jason to do you a favor—”

“I just—I’m scared of what might happen with the boys. With Sonny. Michael already saw him in the middle of a bad panic attack. They’re just babies, you know? I have to protect them.” She bit her lip. “I just don’t know if I’m doing it right.”

“You know that Sonny has talked to Justus,” Bobbie said slowly. “Maybe it’s time we talk to a lawyer, too. Elizabeth’s divorce attorney was good—”

“Mama—”

“Carly.”

Mama,” Carly said again. “Let me handle this. I’m not ready to pull that trigger yet—and even if I was—I know who I need to talk to.”

“Well, Carly, you can only stick your head in the sand for so long—”

“I—” Carly shook her head. “I know. But if I go and file for divorce, Sonny is going to absolutely lose it. And Jason does not need that right now. I’m safe. I’m out of it. And so are the boys. I got myself out. For once, Jason deserves for me to think about him first.”

Blue Moon: Office

“Tommy,” Jason said, walking into the manager’s office, Bernie on his heels. Tommy stood up, and Jason leaned forward to shake his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t come down sooner—”

“No, no, I told your guys there was no need.” Tommy sat down behind the desk. “Sit, sit,” he said with a wave of his hand. “The raid didn’t do much damage. We don’t keep anything around this office anyway. And you called—”

“I did. I just—I didn’t tell Sonny, and I should have. I’m the reason he didn’t come to see you,” Jason told him. “I’m sorry about that, Tommy. You’ve worked with him too long—”

“Jase—” Tommy leaned forward. “You know I like you. Always have. Even when you ditched us and sold out to Moreno—”

Jason winced, and Tommy shook his head. “I knew why you did it. You were too young back then, and I didn’t want you in charge anyway. Too young,” he repeated when Jason frowned at him. “But we got problems with Sonny. He’s not the man he used to be—”

“He’s going through some things,” Jason began, but Tommy just looked impatient now.

“He’s not doing the work,” Tommy retorted. “He dragged this organization back from Moreno, took on Sorel—and for a long time, we managed. But ever since he got married to this new wife—”

New wife. Carly and Sonny had been together for three years, but to a guy like Tommy, anything less than ten years —

“Tommy—”

“Some guys — they do better with family. You—you’re gonna be okay this time. You got your head on straight, and I like your girl. I hope she’s okay.”

Jason hesitated. “She’s fine, Tommy. You’ll see her at the wedding.”

“I like her better than the last two you hooked up with,” Tommy continued. “But Sonny can’t hack it anymore—”

“There’s no Moreno or Sorel anymore,” Jason said softly. “No local competition. So Sonny’s the only option, Tommy. Unless you’re telling me something.”

“If I wanted to take over for Smith,” Tommy said with a frown, “I could have crushed Sonny like a bug. I could have stepped on you when Sonny left you holding the bag. I didn’t do that, did I? Don’t question my loyalty—”

“That’s not what I’m doing, Tommy—” Jason lifted a brow. “You either work for Sonny, or you go into retirement—”

He’s not the only option, Jase.” Tommy got to his feet. “But you’re not ready to see that yet. Loyalty’s a good thing, but it only goes so far. It’s gotta be earned.”

“And Sonny’s earned yours—”

“He did. Once. But anything earned can be lost. You make sure Sonny gets his priorities straight.”

“Tommy—”

“I’m not planning to make any trouble, Jase. And neither is my crew,” he continued. “Not now. We know what you’ve been through this last year. I watch the news. I saw what your girl was dealing with. No one is gonna make a move with your wedding coming up.”

Jason closed his eyes. He absolutely did not need this right now. “But after?”

“You be straight with me, and I’ll be straight with you.” Tommy met his eyes. “Elizabeth and the baby. They okay?”

Jason hated this. Hated the idea of using Elizabeth’s condition, using his son as a shield, but — “No,” he admitted finally, taking in Bernie’s look of concern. “But it’s not something we’re talking about, Tommy. It’s—it’s a complication that—” He shook his head. “I’m asking you to hold the line until she has the baby. I’ll plug the leaks, I’ll deal with Sonny. I’ll get it under control.”

“I’m with you, Jason,” Tommy promised. “But you get Sonny together. I can give you a few months. Through April, maybe. But the problems we’re having—they’re not new.”

“I know that. Thanks.”

“I’ll see you at the wedding. And Jason? I’m sorry. I hope everything turns out.”

“Yeah.” Jason pulled open the office door. “Yeah, me, too.”

Harborview Towers: Lobby

Scott shoved the front door open, then frowned when he saw Taggert waiting in the lobby, glaring at an envelope in his hands. “Oh, hell, did she get you, too?”

Taggert looked up, then sighed. “What am I supposed to do with this, Baldwin?” He held up the envelope. “I can’t open this. I know what it is.”

“This is ridiculous,” Scott muttered. He went over to the security desk. “Is Elizabeth Webber home? I need to talk to her.”

“Uh—” The guard blinked at him. “You need a warrant—”

“Really?” Scott slapped the wedding invitation on the desk. “Here’s my frickin’ warrant—”

“Scott?”

He turned at the sound of Elizabeth’s hesitant voice. She had just left the elevator attached to the parking garage, and her guard was next to her. “Is everything okay?” She looked over at Taggert. Saw the invitation in his hand. Looked at his face again. “Oh. I guess you’re saying no.”

“Uh—” Taggert scratched his temple. “Listen.”

“Um, do you mind if we go upstairs?” Elizabeth asked. “I’ve been on my feet for a little while, and I need to sit down.”

Scott scowled, but he and Taggert followed the brunette into the residential elevator. Her guard slid a key into an access panel, then pressed the button for the penthouse level. He felt a flicker of guilt — he knew that piece of security hadn’t been there before September.

Before a cop had attacked and nearly raped Elizabeth again in her own home. He exchanged a look at Taggert over Elizabeth’s head, knew the lieutenant had seen the action as well.

“Cody, I should be in for the rest of the day,” Elizabeth told the guard as she unlocked the penthouse. “I think Jason said he wouldn’t be home until late—”

“I’m with you until he gets back,” Cody promised. “I already took my lunch.”

“Okay, but don’t forget to get someone up for dinner,” Elizabeth told him. “You always do, and I don’t want you waiting until Jason and I eat—”

Cody promised, then Elizabeth gestured for the DA and lieutenant to walk into the penthouse. Scott cast a look towards the Corinthos penthouse, then huffed and followed Elizabeth in.

“Elizabeth, it’s not that I’m not—I’m not, uh, flattered to get the invitation,” Taggert began as she removed her coat and set it over the desk. “It’s just—you know—conflict of interest and whatnot.”

“Yeah. That—” Scott pointed at him. “That’s what I was gonna say. Very touched to be included, but it’s just—I’m the DA.”

“I know.” Elizabeth smiled at them, but Scott frowned — he’d spent a lot of time with Elizabeth in the last six months, and he liked to think he knew her pretty well.

And something was wrong.

“I guess — when I was making the list, I should have edited it more. Jason wasn’t exactly wild about it either,” she said. Her smile this time felt more genuine, but there was still a sadness there. “But he told me I could invite anyone I wanted. And I guess—I don’t know.” She hesitated, looked at Taggert before focusing on Scott. “I know how Ned found out about the false lab report in my case—”

Taggert lifted his eyes at Scott. “Really?Scott waved at him, dismissing it.

“And I know you both risked a lot asking Jason to go on that trip to see Tom Baker a few months ago,” Elizabeth continued, as Taggert frowned, and Scott looked away. “I know you both just did your job, but I felt a lot safer knowing you were both working on the case. Both cases,” she clarified.

“Listen—”

“And I know you couldn’t come to the reception. Because that really would be too much,” Elizabeth continued. “But I understand if you can’t come. I don’t want to cause either of you any problems. Not after everything you’ve done for me.”

“Oh, well—” Scott shuffled. “Listen,” he repeated. “You’re right. The reception—” He sliced his hand through the air. “That’s out, you know? But, uh, I guess—I mean—” He looked at the baffled Taggert. “We could—we could manage the ceremony.”

“Really?” Elizabeth brightened, and Scott was relieved to see that she did look happier. He drew back his shoulders, feeling ridiculously proud of himself. “Because I invited Lee and Gail, but they’re in Arizona for the month.”

“Oh—yeah, they’ll be disappointed, but me and Taggert—it’ll be fine.” Scott looked at the cop. “Right? If the mayor can go—”

“Right,” Taggert said faintly. “Sure. Uh, just the ceremony. Thanks for understanding.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “I mean that. I feel like a lot of the reason I’m still here, that I’m getting married, and that I don’t have to worry about Vinnie Esposito—I can have this new star all because of you—both of you.”

“I’m happy to see you happy,” Taggert said. “So mark me down for the ceremony. And, uh, maybe a plus one,” he muttered.

Scott frowned at him, but cleared his throat, looking back at Elizabeth. “Uh, yeah. But I don’t have a plus one. I think she’s in your bridal party.”

“Oh, yeah, Bobbie. I wanted to ask her to walk me down the aisle, but I was afraid that it would be too weird,” Elizabeth admitted. “Carly and I just started getting along, so I don’t want to mess that up.”

“I think Bobbie would be pleased as hell to walk you down the aisle,” Scott told her. “We’ll see you at the end of the month.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Back on the elevator, Taggert glared at Scott. “How the hell did you let that happen?”

“Me?” Scott huffed. “You’re taking a freaking date—”

“I can’t go to a wedding and not ask the woman I’m seeing,” Taggert retorted. “And hell—how the hell am I going to explain to Anna Devane that I’m going to Jason Morgan’s freaking wedding?”

“Listen.” Scott took him by the shoulder, pointed a finger at him. “Don’t ask, don’t tell. That’s the policy. We’ll slip in, we’ll slip out, and that’ll be it—and we’re not going to Morgan’s wedding. We’re going to Elizabeth’s—”

“They’re the same thing—”

“Nope.” Scott shook his head. “I’m picturing a faceless groom. I just—” He grimaced. “She made me feel like I’d be doing her a favor, Taggert. How was I supposed to say no?”

“I know.” Taggert sighed. “I know. Thank God she didn’t take up a life of crime. We’d never be able to arrest her.”

General Hospital: Monica’s Office

Jason hesitantly stepped inside his mother’s office and closed the door behind him. “I’m sorry for just showing up like this—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Monica came around her desk and gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa. “I can always find the time for my kids.” She hesitated after the statement and then smiled when Jason didn’t seem to flinch at the thought. “How are you? How’s Elizabeth?”

“Physically fine.” Jason sat down, and Monica perched on the cushion next to him. “We’re not—” He paused. “You can talk to me about Elizabeth, right? Without her being here?”

“I can—” Monica squinted, suspicious now. “You’re her power of attorney, and she’s given us permission, in any case. Why?”

“When we came in last week, you told us that you and Kelly had talked to any doctor who had worked with a pregnant CTEPH patient.”

“It took some time, but yes.” Monica tipped her head. “Does Elizabeth know you’re here?”

“No—I—we’re not talking about it,” he admitted. “In her mind, she’s made the decision, and unless something changes medically—” Jason couldn’t sit still. He shoved himself to his feet and walked across the room. “The other cases. How did they turn out?”

“Well, as I said in the meeting — this is a rare condition. We weren’t able to find all that many cases at all. We found five women with CTEPH in pregnancy. Three of them were diagnosed before the twelfth week, and terminated the pregnancy.”

“The other two?” Jason didn’t look at her.

Monica pressed her lips together. “The other two women were diagnosed later. In weeks eighteen and twenty-two. Both elected to keep the baby.”

“And what happened?”

“Jason—”

“Monica—” He paused. “Mom,” he said softly. “I need to know. I need to be ready.” Jason met her eyes. “I don’t know if I can get Elizabeth to change her mind or back down about waiting as long as possible. So if I need—” His chest was tight, and he could hardly speak. Couldn’t even manage to form the words on his lips.

“One of the women,” Monica said, slowly, rising to her feet, “was forced to check into the hospital after twenty-five weeks and delivered at twenty-eight weeks. She successfully had the CTEPH surgery.”

“The baby?”

Monica sighed. “Lasted a week in the NICU.”

Jason paused but then forced himself to ask. “And the other?”

“The patient had been diagnosed at eighteen weeks and was relatively healthy until thirty weeks. Then she had a heart attack. She died. They delivered the baby, and he survived.”

Jason closed his eyes. The only two known cases of this condition — “And does Elizabeth know that? Does she know there’s never been a known case of both the woman and baby surviving delivery?”

“Jason—”

Does Elizabeth know that?” Jason bit out, then winced. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize, Jason. These are terrible choices, I know that. No, she doesn’t know about the cases we found. And these two cases aren’t predicting the future. They had different medical histories — Elizabeth was in stronger health going into her pregnancy and maintained a healthy first and second trimester until now. That matters —” Monica put a hand on his forearm. “Look at me.”

He met his mother’s eyes. “She’s not going to choose anything that might hurt the baby. I could beg her until I’m blue in the face, but she won’t deliver him a minute earlier than she has to. She’ll kill herself if it means the baby will be okay.”

“I know that—”

“She blames herself for the miscarriage—it doesn’t matter that Faith pushed her, that Ric drugged her—” Jason dragged his hand through his hair. “Okay. You don’t have a lot of CTEPH cases. I get it. But it’s a kind of hypertension, right? That’s more common—”

“Jason—”

“What’s the fatality rate on that?” he pushed. “For other cases of pulmonary hypertension in pregnancy—you’re too good a doctor not to have those figures—”

“Sit down, Jason—”

“I can’t—”

“Jason,” Monica repeated. “Sit down.”

He sat in the chair, put his head in his hands. “She blames herself for not protecting that first baby,” he said in a quiet voice, so faint that Monica could barely hear him. “What are the fatality rates? Please.”

“It varies,” Monica said quietly. “From thirty to fifty percent.”

“Thirty to fifty—” Jason looked at her, his eyes almost wild. “Are you—how—” He took a deep breath. “Elizabeth’s blood pressure has been elevated since the beginning. I haven’t been to all the appointments. Have you ever talked to her about this?”

“About hypertension? Yes. Kelly and I both counseled her shortly after she was attacked in the penthouse. It was important that she rest.” Monica paused. “Yes. Elizabeth knows those numbers, and she got her blood pressure down in October. It’s been elevated, but it’s always been in the normal range—and Jason—”

She waited until he looked at her. Until she could see his eyes and knew he was listening. She took her son’s hand. “Her blood pressure is still in the normal range. Yes, it’s elevated. But not dangerously. Yes, she’s had some issues breathing. I’m concerned about her oxygen intake, but her levels are normal. If she can avoid stress — I don’t expect Elizabeth to have any serious issues for several months. She might even make it until the eighth month without a crisis. I’m not counting on it, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”

He leaned back. Looked at the ceiling. “So, she’s okay for now.”

“For now. Avoiding stress. Resting. Regular vital checks. Jason — those other two cases — they don’t have to be Elizabeth’s fate. She’s stronger than she looks. And you know that your father and I will move mountains to get her the care she needs right here at GH so you won’t have to take her anywhere else.”

“I—” He nodded. “Yeah. I know that. I just—” Jason shook his head. “When does it end?” he asked softly. “When does she get to stop fighting?”

“It’s terribly unfair for this to be happening to her after last year,” Monica agreed with a nod. “After the miscarriage, the embolism, her attack — I want this to be done, too. We’ll get her through this.” She squeezed his hand. “You haven’t told Emily yet.”

“Elizabeth doesn’t want to tell anyone,” Jason said, almost numbly. “Until after the wedding. She wants people to be happy.” He looked at her. “I don’t know if I can put it out my head. She wants me to, and I want to do it for her. But I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Well, when it gets to be too much, you just come to talk to me,” Monica told him, her chest aching for her little boy who had always taken on the weight of the world and tried to fix it. “We’ll take this one day at a time, Jason.”

Kelsey’s Apartment: Living Room

Kelsey wrinkled her nose and looked at Lucky as he trudged through the door. “Hey. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming over tonight.”

“I got stuck at the station.” He stifled a yawn as he removed his coat. “And then I had to go to Kelly’s and grab clothes. The stuff I have here is dirty, and I forgot to take it to the laundromat—”

He collapsed on the sofa, his eyes closed, his head back. Kelsey folded her legs underneath her, twisting to face him. “Bad day?”

“Paperwork,” her boyfriend grunted. “I should have crashed at Kelly’s. I’m not up to—” His eyes were barely a sliver of blue as he looked at her. “Uh, my usual performance.”

“Poor baby.” Kelsey tossed her legal pad on the table, then crawled over to him, swinging a leg over his body and straddling him. “One of my cases plead out this morning, so I didn’t have to spend all day in trial.”

Lucky’s hands rested on her thighs as he sat up slightly, opening his eyes more. “Are you mocking me?”

“No,” she drawled. “I was offering to do most of the work, but if you’re not interested—” She started to stand up—but Lucky’s hand snaked out and grabbed her arm. She giggled as he   her onto her back, and he loomed over her. “Hey — second wind?”

“You know why I didn’t crash at my place?” he asked, settling into the cradle of her hips. Lucky smoothed her hair out of her face. “I didn’t want to miss seeing you today.”

“I’m glad you came over,” Kelsey murmured. She tugged his face down to hers. “You’re on a month to month at Kelly’s, aren’t you?” she asked after a long, lingering kiss.

“Yeah—”

“You think your aunt would mind if you only gave three weeks notice?”

Lucky squinted. “What are you—”

“February 1. Move in here,” Kelsey said. She nipped at his mouth. “We’ll keep all our dirty laundry together.”

“Are you sure—”

“When was the last time you spend more than a night there?” she asked. “Why pay rent on a room you barely use? Let’s be real grown ups. Move in. You’re here all the time anyway.”

“I’ll call Aunt Bobbie tomorrow. But first —” Lucky wiggled his brows, and she giggled as he leaned down and kissed her neck.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth frowned when Jason came home that night — she knew he’d be late and she’d eaten dinner on her own, but she was surprised when he came into the room, then went straight to the bathroom. Without a word.

She heard the shower turn on a moment later. Curious—even worried, Elizabeth shoved back the blanket and padded across the carpet to knock lightly on the door, still partially ajar. “Jason?”

“Yeah?” his voice floated out towards her.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay.” She didn’t want to lay back down, so she sat on his side of the bed and waited. He didn’t take long showers like she did, so within five minutes, Jason had exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Jason—”

“When you got out of the hospital,” Jason said, turning to her as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a cotton gray t-shirt. “Last October— you had a follow-up appointment with Monica and Kelly. I didn’t go.”

“No, something came up at the warehouse—” Elizabeth squinted. “You don’t always go. Or you didn’t before. What’s wrong?”

“I went to see Monica today,” he admitted. He leaned against his dresser, and she was starting to get irritated with him. If he had a problem, why wouldn’t he just say something — “I had a few questions that didn’t get answered last week.”

“Jason—”

“Did you remember what they told you back then?” Jason asked. “When you talked to them about your blood pressure?”

“I—” She frowned, drew her brows together, and got to her feet. “I don’t know. My blood pressure was normal—well, I mean before the attack. And it was high for a while after, but they said if I rested—”

“They talked to you about pulmonary hypertension,” Jason said flatly. “Monica said they did.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth’s expression eased. “Oh, yeah, I do remember that. Monica said if my blood pressure didn’t go down by the next appointment, I might become hypertensive. But it did go down. Remember? I stayed in and spent most of the month on the sofa.” She tipped her head. “Jason—what exactly do you think I found out at this appointment that’s making you so angry?”

“The fatality rates for pulmonary hypertension. And I’m not—” Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m not mad.”

“Then you’re doing a pretty good impression of someone who is.” She paused as his words sank in. “The fatality rates? Wait.”

“I went back because I realized we never let Monica or Kelly tell us about the other cases of pregnant women with CTEPH,” Jason said slowly. “They only found five other patients. Three were diagnosed early in the pregnancy and terminated.”

Elizabeth sat back down. “And the other two?” she asked softly.

“In one, the baby died. And in the other, the mother died.” Jason sat next to her. “And the fatality rates for pulmonary hypertension in pregnant women can be as high as fifty percent.”

“Fifty—” Elizabeth curled her hands into fists, stared at them in her lap. “There’s no case where both survived?”

“No. At least not that they know of. It’s too rare.” Jason took one of her fists in his hand, gently pulled her fingers apart. “I’m sorry. I thought you remembered.”

“You thought I remembered hearing that half of women with hypertension die and didn’t—” Elizabeth yanked her hand away from him, jerking back to her feet. “You thought I was keeping it from you? How? Why?”

“You didn’t want to talk about any choice that wasn’t waiting as long as possible. Even when Kelly and Monica both made it clear—”

“Jason, I didn’t—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t keep this from you. I wouldn’t. And I—I can’t believe you thought I would. Why didn’t you say anything? We could have talked to Monica together—”

“I—” Jason bowed his head. “I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I’m not—I’m handling this well,” he confessed. “I can’t seem to wrap my head around any of it. You don’t want to talk about it or think about it because the decision’s made, and I just—” He looked away. “I have to deal with it. I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth’s eyes stung with tears. “You make it sound so terrible. Like I didn’t even think about you—”

“Did you?” he asked, fastening his gaze on hers, his own eyes burning into hers. “You didn’t ask me what I wanted to do—”

“Because I know what you want to do. What you wanted to do months ago when I found out I was pregnant,” Elizabeth said quietly. “You want me to put myself first. You were the one who brought up abortion first.”

“Don’t—” Jason shot up. “No. Don’t say it like I still want that. I love this baby, Elizabeth. Of course I do—”

“I’m sorry—I know—” She rubbed a hand against her chest. “I know you love the baby. But you still think this is a situation where there’s a choice. And I can’t—I can’t see it that way. I can’t see a life for myself if I do anything that puts my son at risk—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I can’t—” She turned away, pressed her hands to her face. “I’m sorry. I just can’t. So you can either be okay with it or not, but I can’t do it—”

“All right.” Jason came up behind her, drew her back against him. “I’m sorry,” he told her, his breath warm against her temple. “I’m just trying the best I can.”

“I know.”

“Monica reminded me that you’re okay right now. So, let’s do what you wanted me to do in the first place. We’ll put it away. We’ll go to the doctor appointments, but let’s just think about the wedding.”

Elizabeth turned in his arms, resting her hands against his chest, and searched his eyes. “Can you do that?” she asked. “Jason—”

“If that’s what you need me to do, then yeah—” He rested his forehead against hers. “Yeah, I can do that.”

This entry is part 20 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

And she says, oh
I can’t take no more
Her tears like diamonds on the floor
And her diamonds bring me down
‘Cause I can’t help her now
She’s down in it
She tried her best and now she can’t win
It’s hard to see them on the ground
Her diamonds falling down
Her Diamonds, Rob Thomas


Friday, January 2, 2004

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Elizabeth on the sofa before turning back to the door and Max. “It has to be right now?”

The guard looked pained as he nodded. “Mr. C said if you don’t want to come over, he’ll just head over to the Brownstone himself.”

Jason dipped his head, took a deep breath, and considered throwing Carly to the wolves and telling Sonny to go to hell. “I’ll be over in ten minutes,” he told him. “If that’s not good enough, I—” He just shook his head again, then closed the door without finishing the statement.

Elizabeth forced a smile as he rejoined her on the sofa. “I’m not going to fall apart if you leave me alone for a little while,” she told him. “I’m okay.”

Jason tucked her hair behind her ears, letting his fingertips brush her cheek. “I want to stick close,” he told her softly. “Until we know what we’re dealing with. I’m the one that doesn’t want to go.”

She leaned into his touch, holding his hand against her face. “It’s just across the hall, and you know you don’t want Carly dealing with Sonny any more than she has to right now. Especially since he’s doubling down on not getting counseling.”

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “Yeah, I know, but—”

“The appointment isn’t until this afternoon,” Elizabeth reminded him. “And Emily said she was going to come by with some stuff for the hotel and the reception.” She bit her lip. “I’ve been putting her off about my results. We haven’t really said if we’re going to talk to anyone or say anything—”

“You can tell Emily,” Jason told her. He couldn’t imagine saying anything to Sonny about it at this point—

“I was actually thinking…” Elizabeth said hesitantly, “that we don’t really know what Kelly or Monica are going to say, and I don’t know that I want to deal with a lot of questions, you know?” She twisted her engagement ring. “And…I don’t know. I was just…going to keep waiting to talk to her about it.”

“If that’s easier for you, then that’s fine with me. We’ll…” He wanted to tell her it would be okay, but he couldn’t understand how. If Elizabeth had a condition that was damaging her heart and lungs—how would they get through the rest of her pregnancy? She still had almost four months before the baby was due—

Would they deliver early? Was it possible the baby might not even make it? And what did it mean for Elizabeth if they waited to have the surgery?

Could either of them survive losing the baby now, after everything else?

“Go over and talk to Sonny. If he needs you to do something, then do it. I’m going to try to keep my mind off it,” she told him. “Maybe you could go see Carly or something. You haven’t really seen her since I started to feel worse.”

And maybe Elizabeth wanted a little space and wasn’t sure how to ask him for it. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He squeezed her hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He kissed her before getting up and walking towards the door, then looked back—he hadn’t left her since Monica had given them the news, not wanting to let her out of his sight—but she was right. They both needed to find a way to distract themselves until they knew more about what was coming next. He finally pushed himself to leave and walk over to the other penthouse.

“Thank God,” Max said as Jason approached. “He’s been…uh…” The guard wrinkled his nose. “Annoyed.”

“Yeah, well…” Jason shoved open the door. “He’ll have to get over it.” His number one priority was his family—Elizabeth and their son—and if Sonny didn’t like that, Jason would take Elizabeth somewhere where the business and Sonny Corinthos couldn’t make things worse. If there was a chance he could save them both, he was going to do whatever had to be done.

He wasn’t going to lose her or their son. Not without a fight.

“It’s about time,” Sonny said from the sofa. He got to his feet. “Where the hell have you been all week? Bernie says you haven’t been down at the warehouse—you haven’t checked in with me—” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Things are slow at work, and if Bernie needed me, he and Justus know how to call me.” Jason shoved his hands into his jeans. “So what’s the problem? What did you want?”

“It’s been three weeks,” Sonny said. “I need you to talk some sense into Carly.” He waved his hand. “Whatever you normally do.”

Jason squinted. “Like what?” he asked, his tone clipped. “What sense are you looking for?”

“She refuses to accept my apology. I mean—” Sonny scowled. “She acts like I wanted to hurt her—like I knew it would make her—” He grimaced. “I didn’t know. And I’m tired of everyone treating me like I did it on purpose.”

“Sonny—” Jason exhaled slowly, trying to find the patience to deal with this. “You locked her in your bedroom. You did that on purpose—”

“I was—” Sonny met his eyes. “You know how I get. She knows how I get. I’m okay now. I—I took a break. I took space. I gave her time. What does she want from me? Blood? I’ll give her that—I didn’t mean to hurt her—”

“You locked her in your bedroom,” Jason repeated. “If you didn’t stop to think about how it makes her feel, then you need to get that under control—”

“I have—”

“No, you haven’t. Because Ric Lansing is still gone. He’s still out there, and that means Carly doesn’t know if it will happen again. Because you and I know that you get like that—but you don’t know why. What is this so hard for you to understand, Sonny?” Jason demanded. “You locked her in your bedroom!”

Sonny’s fists clenched at his side. “So you’re not going to help me—”

“Unless the help you want is arranging to get professional help without anyone knowing, no,” Jason said flatly. “I’m not. I don’t have the time for this, Sonny. I have other things going on—”

“Yeah, because you having a wedding is really more important than finding Ric Lansing and making sure my family is safe—”

Jason had already pulled open the door when Sonny threw out that shot, and he knew that Max had overheard the statement by the way the guard was staring straight forward, trying to look like a statue.

He turned back to look at Sonny. Once, his friend would have seen something was wrong and offered advice, offered help. But that felt like another lifetime.

Your family is safe,” Jason told him. “And yeah, you know, my family is more important right now. Don’t call me again about this. I won’t come.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Dante strode through the entrance of the diner, determined to shake off the last few weeks, and put it behind him. Sonny Corinthos was still his father, but as far as Dante could tell, only he, his grandmother, and his mother knew the truth, so he was going to shove that out of his head, too.

He found his partner sitting at the counter, sipping a cup of coffee. “Hey.” Dante nodded at Lucky, took a seat next to him. “Who’s cooking today?”

“Don, which means you can probably trust anything with meat,” Lucky told him. “I still wouldn’t get the chili—” He winced as he heard something break in the kitchen, followed by a string of curses. “But, uh, you also might want to skip ordering anything that needs to be carried. Try a donut. Or a bagel.”

“Why—” Dante blinked when he heard another crash, then Lulu’s raised tones about how Don was a complete idiot that was just like all the other idiot men out to ruin the world— “Is she okay?”

“No.” Lucky thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No, she is not. She broke up with Dillon over break, and, well,” he gestured towards the kitchen. “You know how Lu is.”

“Yeah.” Dante remembered the first time he’d really talked to her one-on-one when he’d questioned her after Brooke’s attack, and Lulu had immediately started defending everyone she’d ever met, completely convinced Dante was out to get someone.

Lulu thought the only way to live in the world was to always be on the offense.

Lucky peered at him over the rim of the cup, raised his eyebrows. “I think you’re supposed to wait two weeks, by the way.”

“Wait two weeks for what?” Dante asked as he picked up the menu, trying to decide what to get for breakfast that wouldn’t get destroyed between the kitchen and the counter.

“They dated for four months,” Lucky continued, “and if I remember this right—you have to wait twenty-five percent of the time they were dating before you can ask her out.”

Dante scowled, slapped the menu down, and glared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s possible I’m not remembering it right,” Lucky admitted. “Emily and Elizabeth didn’t know I was eavesdropping, and they were talking about some idiot Emily was dating.” He pursed his lips. “One of her many idiots in a very long line of disasters.”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“Maybe it’s half the time.” Lucky counted on his fingers. “No—sixteen weeks is four months—no, you know what—it is twenty-five percent, but I did the math wrong. I think it’s like three weeks—”

“I don’t give a damn about the math!” Dante interrupted, throwing up his hands. Lucky snickered, picked up his coffee again.

“Who’s complaining about math?” Lulu asked, stepping out of the kitchen. “Because I have to take algebra this semester, and I am going to fail the crap out of it. Lucky—” She fluttered her eyelashes at her brother. “You’re my only hope.”

“Well, then, my dear, you’re screwed.” Lucky turned slightly, set the coffee down. “Hey—that’s Kelsey—I’m gonna go grab her before she comes in. I wanted to ask her something—”

Dante scowled after his partner as Lucky left, leaving him alone with the newly single Lulu Spencer and his stupid three week rule.

“He’s a turd,” Lulu muttered. She looked at Dante, picked up her order pad. “What do you want?”

Dante just raised his brows, and then she sighed. “I’m sorry. I hate men today. Not specific men because you’re, like—” She wiggled her fingers at him. “You’re fine. But men in general, because I ask you, Dante…why are men?”

“Why are men…” Dante furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Exactly.” Lulu sniffed. “You want your usual?”

“You give me a headache sometimes,” he told her bluntly.

“There’s a lot of that going around,” Lulu replied with a shrug. “Western omelet?”

“Uh—no, bagel with lox,” he told her, scratching his forehead. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Lulu nodded firmly. “I’m fine.” She narrowed her eyes into slits. “Why? Did someone tell you I’m not?”

“You know, I’m just not going to talk anymore,” Dante decided. He slid the menu over to her.

Lulu sighed, counted to ten, then looked at him. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m not having a great week. Dillon and I broke up, and I can’t figure out why I’m mad because I did the dumping, and I should have done it weeks ago.”

She huffed. “It’s just stupid. We had a dumb fight in the movie theater over absolutely nothing, then he tried to apologize, but, like what’s the point?” Lulu turned to put his order in, before turning back to Dante. “We’ll just have the exact same argument in two weeks. And eventually, we’ll hate each other. Better to dump him now before we end up really hating each other.”

Lulu wiggled her shoulders as if casting off the topic. “How were your holidays? I bet they were worse than mine because if there’s anything worse than men, it’s family.” She pursed her lips. “No, wait, I think I talked you into going, so I hope they were better—”

“You know…” Dante exhaled slowly. “They were terrible,” he admitted. “I’m just glad they’re over.”

“Amen.” Lulu peered past him out the window. “Hey, what did Lucky want with Kelsey—” She slapped his shoulder with the order pad. “You think he’s proposing?”

“Uh—in the courtyard? In the freezing cold? Do you think Lucky would be that dumb?”

“He proposed to Elizabeth in an arcade,” Lulu told him seriously, “so yeah, he would be dumb, because, and here, we circle back to my thesis of the day—men are the worst, and women would be better off without them.”

“You know, I’m a man,” Dante told her. “As you noted earlier.”

“Fair point.” Lulu studied him for a moment, narrowing her eyes as if he were under a microscope. “You know, maybe it’s not men that are the problem. It’s boys. Boys who don’t grow up. You’re not a boy.”

“I’m going to quit while I’m ahead because I think you almost complimented me,” Dante told her, feeling a smile tug at the corner of his lips. “And I probably can’t top that today.”

Lulu grinned at him, then went to get his breakfast order. He picked up his coffee. Three weeks.

Well, maybe.

The Cellar: Office

Jason didn’t often come to Carly’s club, which had never surprised her since she usually had to blackmail him into anything that required him to dress up and be around people. So when he appeared in the doorway of her office that morning, Carly was surprised.

That surprise quickly melted into worry as she took in his pinched expression and worn out eyes. He looked so tired. Carly got to her feet. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Jason shook his head, then closed the door behind him. “I just—I haven’t seen you since Christmas.” He crossed over to the bassinet where Morgan was napping, adjusted the blanket. “How are you?”

“Fine,” she said warily. She sat down again, folded her hands on the desk. “I saw Kevin a few days ago, and he wrote me a prescription for anxiety meds.”

“Yeah?” Jason looked at her, then sat in the chair in front of her desk. “Are they working?”

“I don’t know. Kevin said they might take some time to kick in.” She raised her brows. “What’s really wrong? Is it Sonny?”

Jason winced. “No.” He paused. “No. Not exactly. A few days ago, he apparently asked Justus about getting visitation rights. Or custody. I can’t remember what Justus said. And I just—wanted to warn you.”

Carly sighed, leaned back in the chair. “Yeah, he showed up at the Brownstone on Tuesday, wanting to see the boys. I told him he could see the boys any time he wanted—as long as you were in the room with him. I’m sorry,” she added when Jason just shook his head. “I shouldn’t put you in the middle of it, I just—I knew he’d never ask you—”

She stopped, then cleared her throat. “What did Justus tell him? About getting visitation?”

“That there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d get more than supervised visits,” Jason said bluntly. “Which is probably true. He wanted me to talk to you, to convince you to forgive him.”

“Yeah, he’s starting to turn this into my fault,” Carly said wryly. She got to her feet and walked over to Morgan, just to look at him. She folded her arms. “Reminding me of all the times he’s forgiven me. I knew—” She shook her head. “I knew if he didn’t get help the first time I asked him—when it was fresh—he never would.”

“I’m sorry. I told him I agreed with you.” Jason twisted in the chair, then got to his feet. “I don’t know what else I can do.”

“There’s nothing. Sonny will never change unless he doesn’t have a choice, and if losing me and the boys didn’t do it— I don’t know what will.” Carly frowned at him. “Everything else okay? I mean—I know Sonny is being a pain, but—”

“It’s fine,” Jason said, stepping back, away from her.

Carly narrowed her eyes, then shook her head. “No—something isn’t right. Is—is Elizabeth okay? I know you guys are getting closer to the wedding. Is she resting enough? You know, it’s okay if she gets tired—you don’t have to—” She stopped abruptly as Jason looked down at the floor, then back at her. At her face, not her eyes. She remembered Elizabeth’s dizzy spell, and the oxygen she’d needed after the hearing—after helping Carly that night. “Jason.”

“It’s—I can’t talk about it. She doesn’t—” Jason exhaled slowly. “She doesn’t want to talk about it—”

“I’m not asking her,” Carly said. “And while you know, I don’t hate her guts anymore, she’s not my friend. You are. Just—” She touched his shoulder, hoping he’d meet her eyes. “Is it the baby?”

“I don’t—it’s not—” Jason grimaced. “It’s not that simple. And I can’t get into it—”

“But there is something,” Carly said softly. “And it’s bad.”

Briefly—their eyes met, and she inhaled sharply. “Jason—” He looked away.

“We’re—I can’t get into it.” He hesitated. “Even if Elizabeth was ready to talk about it, I don’t know if I can.”

“Okay,” she said. She swallowed hard. “Does Mama know?”

“No. No one—I told you, Elizabeth isn’t—we still don’t—” Jason grimaced. “I shouldn’t have said anything—”

“You haven’t said anything. But I know you better than you think I do.” She sighed. “Okay. I won’t bug you about it. Just—I love you. And I hope it all works out. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will.” He hesitated. “I have to get going. I have—I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Okay.” Carly wanted to hug him, but Jason slipped out of her office before she could reach out.

General Hospital: Waiting Room

Elizabeth felt like she was walking in a fog. At some point, on the day Monica had delivered her diagnosis, Elizabeth’s tears had dried up, and she’d just faded away. She had tried to get through each day since, tried not to worry Jason, but she was just encased in a thick cloud that kept everything out.

Emily had pressed her on the test results that morning, but Elizabeth hadn’t told her. Couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t say anything out loud. She’d been relieved when Jason had left that morning, exhausted by pretending that she was better than she was, and was barely up to fooling Emily.

She just wanted this over with. Whatever was going to happen — she wanted it done.

“Kelly’s calling us in.”

Elizabeth blinked, looked at Jason sitting next to her quietly in the waiting room. “What?”

“For our appointment,” he told her. He rose to his feet, held out his hand. “Come on.”

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“No.” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed. Shook her head. “I can’t.” Something rose in her throat, tried to bubble up, break free, but she just squeezed her eyes even harder. If she moved, it would be real. If she moved, she’d start to feel again.

Couldn’t do it.

“Hey.”

Jason’s voice was quiet, close to her ear—had he sat back down? She didn’t know. His fingers laced through hers, and his hand was shaking as he brought her fingers to his lips. “Hey,” Jason repeated. “You don’t have to do anything right now. You don’t have to move. We’ll stay right here.” Something changed in his voice, shifted, almost as if he couldn’t speak either. “I just need you to breathe. Just breathe for me.”

Her chest was tight, her lungs were burning—Oh, God, she’d actually held her breath without realizing it—

She parted her lips on a gasping breath, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t go in there.”

“We won’t. We’ll stay right here.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes, then turned to find Jason sitting next to her, her hand enveloped in both of his, pressed against his chest. His eyes were red. “I can’t—she’s going to tell me I can’t have my baby—that he won’t be okay and I can’t—I can’t—I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m trying to be okay, and I’m not—”

Jason looked so lost, and it was maybe the first time she could remember when he had nothing to say. He couldn’t tell her it wasn’t true, couldn’t reassure her—he didn’t know. And to see this man—who always seemed to know what was next—not know what to do—

“I’m not okay, either,” he finally said, his voice low and rough. “I don’t want to lose this baby, but I can’t lose you. I can’t—” He stopped, shook his head, looked away.

Listening to the break in his voice—Elizabeth dragged in as deep a breath as she could manage. With her free hand, she reached across to touch his face, to gently brush away a tear on his cheek. “We’re a mess.”

He laughed then, just a short sound that lifted her spirits. “It’s one more thing I can’t fix,” he told her, meeting her eyes. “If I could—”

She loved him so much. And it wasn’t fair to always expect him to carry her. “I know. So we’ll—” She forced a smile. “We’ll just have to muddle through it together. Sitting out here isn’t going to help anything, is it?”

“Can you go in?” Jason asked her. “If you can’t—we’ll find some other way—”

“No. We need—” Elizabeth squeezed his hand, started to stand. Jason stood, then braced her elbow. “We need to do this. Promise me—” She put her hand on his forearm, just below his elbow, searched his eyes. “Promise me if there’s a way that we can still—that the baby—”

“I promise you that we will do whatever we can to save you both,” Jason told her. It wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted, but she knew she’d never get anything else from him.

“All right. Then let’s go see we’re up against.”

Kelly and Monica were talking quietly when Jason and Elizabeth made it into the office, and it was the concerned mother in Monica’s eyes as she came over to them. “Are you all right?” she asked, touching Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“Scared,” Elizabeth admitted. “I, um, had some trouble coming in. I’m—” She looked at her OB whose expression was inscrutable. “I’m really nervous.”

“I’m sure, sweetheart. Let’s take a seat and talk about what’s on the table.” Monica gestured to the seats in front of Kelly’s desk then took her normal chair at Kelly’s side. “I’m sorry we’ve had to keep you waiting a few days for this meeting.”

“I’ve had a few patients with hypertension issues,” Kelly told them, “but I’ve never dealt with CTEPH. It’s relatively rare, which means even fewer women with this condition deal with pregnancy.” She glanced at Monica for a moment before refocusing on Jason and Elizabeth. “We wanted to consult with any doctor who has treated a pregnant CTEPH patient, so we can put together the best plan.”

“Can I—” Elizabeth squeezed Jason’s hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I just—I need to know.” With her free hand, she touched her belly, felt the baby fluttering. “Can I have this baby?”

“I’m sure that’s at the top of your worries,” Kelly told her. “That’s why Monica and I wanted to get all the answers. We both knew that keeping the baby would be the priority. However—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, braced herself.

“It would be irresponsible of me not to lay out all of your options,” Kelly continued. “So, yes, terminating the pregnancy at this point would be the safest and healthiest thing for you. It would prevent any permanent damage to your heart and lungs and allow you to have the surgery that will likely result in a complete recovery, which means you would be able to have more children in the future.”

“Is that—” Elizabeth couldn’t form the words. Looked at Jason, who took a deep breath and nodded.

“Is that what you think we should do?” Jason asked. “Is that the only option?”

“No. It’s not. I do have to caution you that continuing your pregnancy, Elizabeth, will put a strain on your entire body and risk heart and lung damage that you might not be able to recover from easily, if it all.”

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “But I could continue—I could have the baby.”

“Yes,” Kelly said.

Her head nearly spun from the relief that swept through her body. She didn’t care about anything else. Just her son. She wanted her son.

“What Kelly and I think might be the best way forward is to closely monitor your health—even more so than we have already,” Monica added, “and prepare to deliver the baby early.”

“How—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “How early?”

“Well, since I know we’ll be looking to maximize the baby’s chance at survival,” Monica said slowly, “we could deliver as early as 28 weeks.”

“Twenty-eight—” Elizabeth faltered. “But—that’s—that’s—it’s not enough time—” She looked at Jason, who seemed stunned at the idea. “That’s barely a month away—” She covered her belly protectively.

“What—what does a baby—I mean, what happens at twenty-eight—” Jason exhaled slowly.

“What if I’m not just trying to maximize the baby’s survival?” Elizabeth asked before Kelly could answer Jason. “What if I want to wait until the baby is…what if I just want to wait?” He looked at her, and she knew he wanted to argue with her—knew that it wasn’t the question he wanted to her ask.

But once Kelly had told her she could have her son—

It was the only one that mattered.

“Full-term is forty weeks, delivering on schedule sometime in April,” Kelly said slowly, exchanging a look with Monica. “That’s not going to happen, Elizabeth. You’re already struggling with breathing. The harder it is for you to breathe, the harder it is for your heart and your other organs to get oxygen—”

“But that’s not happening yet, is it?” Elizabeth cut in.

“Elizabeth,” Jason said softly.

“It’s not—I know I have trouble breathing, but oxygen takes care of it, and—you said my oxygen levels were still normal—” Elizabeth swung her attention to Monica. “Why can’t we wait and see how I’m doing? I just—”

“I understand how scary this is, Elizabeth,” Kelly told her. “I promise you, I do. But as your pregnancy develops, the strain and demand on your organs will only increase. And hypertension can also be stressful, even damaging, on the baby’s development. It would be reckless of me to say let’s simply wait and see—”

“But—”

“Waiting until April, Elizabeth, is not an option,” Monica said flatly. Elizabeth pressed her lips together, looked at Jason’s mother, and saw the steel in her eyes. She nodded.

“Okay. What about March?”

Kelly hesitated, looked at something in front of her. “Well, you’ll be at 32 weeks at the beginning of March. Babies born around that time have a ninety-five percent survival rate, and generally need breathing support in the NICU—”

“Breathing support?” She had a vision of her son on a ventilator, gasping for air from the day he was born— “No. I don’t want that—”

“Elizabeth,” Jason said. “That might be the best chance for you both—”

“No,” she repeated. She looked at him. “I can’t watch him—I can’t—please—” She shook her head, looked at Kelly. “How do I avoid the NICU?”

Looking vaguely ill, Kelly grimaced. “You’re looking at closer to thirty-seven weeks, which is not going to be possible. Again, the effect on you—on the baby—”

“Elizabeth, I know how worried you are,” Monica began, “but I really think maybe we need to take some time think about this—”

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Jason told Elizabeth. “We can wait a few weeks, see how you’re feeling—” He squeezed her hand again. “This is good news,” he reminded her. “We thought you might not—that we might not be able to keep the baby.”

“I—” God, she knew what he wanted her to do, but Elizabeth simply couldn’t. She looked away from his pleading expression, back to Kelly. “Let’s split the difference then. Thirty-five weeks.”

“I—” Kelly leaned back, then sighed. “Yes, that would probably increase the chances the baby wouldn’t need a lot of post-natal support, and might spend no more than a night or two in the NICU, but again, I have to remind you—”

“Then thirty-five weeks. That’s the compromise. I’m not—” She looked at Jason, praying for him to see her, to understand. “As long as the baby is okay and not affected by my condition—I can’t—you can’t ask me to sacrifice a minute of my child’s life to make mine easier—”

“That’s not the choice we’re—” Jason bit off whatever he was going to say, shook his head. “What can we do in the meantime?” he asked Kelly. “To keep her and the baby as healthy as possible for as long as we can?”

“What we’ve been doing,” Monica said. “Oxygen as needed, resting, decreasing stress—we’ll need to have appointments every other week to check the baby and the function of the heart and lungs, and probably weekly as we get closer—”

“Whatever I need to do, I’ll do it. I’ll do everything you ask me to.” She met Jason’s eyes. “I promise.”

“All right.” Looking resigned, Jason nodded. “All right.”

Harborview Towers: Hallway

Max stepped off the elevator, and out of habit, looked towards Jason’s penthouse to see if Cody was outside the door — he was, but he was sitting on a stool, reading the newspaper.

“Hey, Jason and Miss Webber aren’t back?” Max asked, digging into the bag of Doritos he’d brought up from his lunch break.

“No.” Cody checked his watch then looked back at his paper. “And they don’t like me to go with them to the appointments.” He eyed Max. “Sonny home?”

“Yeah. He’s not leaving much these days.” Max leaned against the wall. “I should check in with him, make sure he doesn’t need anything.” Instead, he reached into the bag and shoved another nacho cheese chip into his mouth.

Cody raised his brows, closed the paper. “But you’re not?”

“Nope. Last time I made that mistake, he made me drive him to the Brownstone. He got all huffy with Mrs. C and then fired me three times before we got back to the Towers.” Max shook his head. “Don’t ask, don’t get fired, that’s my policy.”

“How much longer do you think this is gonna last?” Cody got to his feet, kicking the stool back into the corner. “This—” He gestured at the hallway. “Do you really think any of this is okay?”

Max hesitated. “Any of what?” he said carefully.

“The way the boss is acting. What happened with Mrs. C.”

“And the way he talks to Miss Webber or Jason?” Max said dryly. “Look, Cody—” He looked back towards Sonny’s penthouse. “Nothing’s been right since Ric Lansing showed up.”

“They should have shot him when they had the chance,” Cody said, darkly. “He never would have hurt Miss Webber or Mrs. C.”

“Yeah, well, they didn’t, and now we’re all miserable. Maybe things will be better after the baby’s here. I’m sure Jason is just wound up all tight because of these doctor appointments. Miss Webber will have the kid, Sonny will get it together. Just like always.” Max squared his shoulders. “All right—I’m gonna go—”

He stopped when the phone in his pocket buzzed. Oh, man, he hoped this wasn’t Sonny. He was not in the mood for another sojourn to the Brownstone, which was the only place Sonny went these days.

“Oh, crap, it’s Tommy,” Max muttered. “He’s probably here about the PCPD raid on New Year’s—”

“I thought they didn’t find anything—”

“They didn’t, but Tommy’s always got his panties in a twist—” Max flipped open his phone. “Hey, Tommy! What’s up? You catch that Bills game—”

“Shut up, Giambetti. I’m in the lobby. Let me up. Wally says you need to clear me. This some bullshit when I gotta be cleared by a glorified fucking babysitter—”

Max pressed the phone to his chest, wincing. “He wants to come up.”

“Well, you got two choices. Don’t let him up, Tommy flips out downstairs and is still throwing a hissy fit when Jason and Miss Webber get back or—”

“Let him talk to Sonny and throw a hissy fit about respect and the old days.” Max scowled. “Those are terrible options.”

“Either way, Tommy throws a tantrum. Better make it Sonny’s problem and not Jason’s.”

“Fine.” Max put the phone back to his ear as Tommy continued to rant. “Lemme talk to Wally.” He cleared the club manager and then closed the phone. “I should have called in sick,” he muttered as he went over to the other penthouse and knocked on the door.

“Yo, Mr. C—” Max opened the door slightly—frowning as he saw Sonny in the same spot he always did — lounging on the sofa with a bourbon. Boss was drinking a lot these days, which did not bode well for anyone. Man, he wished Sonny would do whatever Mrs. C asked him to do so she could come home.

Sonny was always nicer when his family was around.

“Tommy’s coming up. Wants to talk to you about something.”

Sonny frowned, got to his feet, strode towards the doorway. “Yeah? Where’s Jason? It’s his job to handle these things.”

“Uh, I think he’s at the doctor with Miss Webber.” Max glanced over his shoulder to Cody, who was at the elevator. “Right?”

“Yeah, they had a doctor’s appointment or something—”

“He just went a few days ago—damn it, do I have to do everything around here?”

Max frowned because Sonny had done nothing for weeks, and Cody barely hid a snort. He threw his fellow guard a dirty look. The last thing they needed was for Sonny to see Cody’s disrespect.

The doors opened, and Tommy strode out, a barrel-chested man who’d been in the business for nearly two decades—first with the Jeromes, then Frank Smith, and had been managing Sonny’s clubs and the bookies since Smith’s death. He had no patience for anyone and was Max’s least favorite person in the world.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tommy demanded. “The PCPD raids my club on the biggest fucking drinking night of the year, and you don’t check in?” He glared at the boss, who scowled right back at him. “Where the hell have you been?”

Sonny pressed his lips together as he stood in the doorway, but Max hadn’t missed the flare of confusion—Sonny hadn’t known about the PCPD raid, which meant Jason hadn’t told him.

That…was interesting. And so very bad.

“You didn’t get arrested, did you?” Sonny said shortly. “The club get shut down?”

“No, but—”

“So, you’re pissy because I didn’t come down personally to pat your head for doing your fucking job?” Sonny lifted his chin. “I don’t have to handle any of this shit. That’s why I’m in charge. Go yell at Jason—”

Tommy’s face flushed as the ire grew. “I’m not talking to some underling—I don’t work for fucking Jason Morgan?”

“You keep talking to me like that, and you won’t be working for me either. Max—” Sonny flicked his eyes to Max, who straightened immediately. “Tell Jason to handle whatever the hell Tommy’s issues are.”

Then slammed his door, disappearing back into the penthouse. Tommy started to step forward, but Cody grabbed his arm.

“Tommy—”

“That little piece of shit—doesn’t he know who I am?” Tommy whirled around on Cody. “Get your hands off me—”

“Tommy,” Max said, his tone more gentle than Cody’s clipped one. “Look, tensions have been high lately. I know that. I’ll talk to Jason when he comes in. He’ll work this out with Sonny.”

“I’m not—” Tommy exhaled slowly. “I already talked to him, but that isn’t how things are done—”

Cody started to say something, but then the elevator doors slid open—Jason and Elizabeth stepped off. Max was relieved because he knew Jason would make this okay—he always knew how to soothe Tommy’s ruffled feathers—

But they could all see something was wrong with the couple as soon as they left the elevator. Elizabeth blinked at the cluster of men outside of Sonny’s—and Max knew this was not the time. Her eyes were red, and she looked like she’d been crying. Jason didn’t look much better.

“Jason—” Tommy began as he stepped forward. “You need to—”

“Yo, Tommy—” Max grabbed the man’s arm, shook his head. “Not now.”

With a resigned sigh, Jason looked down at Elizabeth, squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right in, okay?”

Cody leaped forward to quickly unlock the penthouse door and shove it open so that Elizabeth could go inside without waiting—she didn’t say a word to anyone, but the air had changed in the small hallway. It felt smaller, darker.

“We don’t need you tonight,” Jason told Cody. “Sorry to make you wait around.”

“No problem—”

But Jason had already dismissed Cody from his mind—and looked at Tommy, who looked more unsure than he had before. “If this is about the raid, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell Sonny yet. I’ve been—can we do this tomorrow?”

And because none of them had ever seen Jason looking quite that tired or upset, Tommy just nodded wordlessly. “Uh, sure. Sure. You good, Jase?”

Jason didn’t answer and just disappeared into the penthouse. Cody looked after the pair of them before looking back at Tommy and Max.

“Uh, you tell Jason I’m sorry,” Tommy muttered. “It’s fine. I don’t need—it’s fine,” he repeated. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “And, uh, I hope everything is okay.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The guards waited for Tommy to get on the elevator—once the doors had slid closed, Max exhaled an uneasy breath. “You know what? I’m not telling Sonny Jason is home. Not right now. Don’t knock, don’t make trouble. My revised policy.” He looked at Cody, who was still looking at the closed penthouse doors. “Cody. All of this — it’s not our business.”

The younger man focused on him. “What?”

“The personal stuff—” Max shook his head. “Not our problem. We got one job. I keep Mr. C alive, and you make sure Miss Webber is okay. Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. That’s what Jason said last year when he assigned me. She comes first.” Cody nodded.

Max squinted at him, but then returned to his post.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth had already removed her jacket when Jason came in a few minutes after her. She looked at him. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know.” Jason dropped his keys on the desk, peeled off his leather jacket, picked up her white jacket, and hung them both up. “There was a raid on one of Tommy’s clubs. I didn’t tell Sonny about it.” He met her eyes. “Tommy was probably pissed, but I don’t really care.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “You’re mad at me,” she said softly. He’d barely spoken since they’d left the hospital.

“No—” Jason shook his head. He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing lightly before trailing his hands down her arms to take her hands in his. “Not mad. Just—” He hesitated. “I think that asking you to make any decisions today was expecting too much. We both went into this appointment expecting the worst—I don’t blame you for wanting to wait as long as you can.”

“Maybe you don’t blame me,” Elizabeth said hesitantly, “but you also don’t agree either.” She met his eyes. “You want me to change my mind.”

“I think…that we both need to sit with this for a while,” Jason said. “Like you said, as long as you rest and follow Kelly’s instructions, we can put off this decision—”

“But I’ve made my decision,” Elizabeth told him. “I can’t—if I can wait, I don’t know why I wouldn’t—”

“I—”

“You’ve talked about how hard it is for you to watch me struggle for air. That my panic attacks—the oxygen masks—” Elizabeth searched his eyes. “You know how hard that is for you to go through. It’s even worse for me to feel that way. So I think you might understand that there is no way I’m going to make a choice that puts our son in that position. I can’t watch him struggle to breathe—”

“Okay.” Jason drew her against him, wrapping her tightly in his arms. “I know. I don’t want it either. I just—” He pulled back, tipped her face up. “There are no easy choices,” he admitted.

“This one is easy—for me,” Elizabeth added. “I can’t—I cant lose another child. Not now. What if we deliver early and there are complications—what if he doesn’t make it? How could I ever live with myself?” She drew in a deep breath. “There’s no point for us to argue about it.”

Jason pressed his lips together, then nodded. “I guess not. Not if you’ve made up your mind.”

“I have. As long as I can stand to wait, that’s what I want to do. So—” She smiled at him. “In a few weeks, we’ll get married. That’s what I want to focus on, you know? I promise I’ll rest, and most of the work is done anyway. I also—” She bit her lip. “Can we wait to tell anyone until after?”

Jason blinked, frowned. “Why? Emily’s already been leaving messages—”

“Because I don’t want to have people looking at me with pity or worry. Not when I just want to focus on being happy.” She fisted her hand in his t-shirt. “I just want to be happy, Jason. We can’t do anything to change this before the wedding, so can we just not talk about it?”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but then he just sighed. “Yeah. Okay. Okay. We’ll…let it go for now.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This entry is part 19 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

I’d take another chance, take a fall
Take a shot for you
And I need you like a heart needs a beat
But it’s nothing new, yeah, yeah
I loved you with a fire red
Now it’s turning blue, and you say
Sorry like the angel heaven let me think was you
But I’m afraid
It’s too late to apologize, it’s too late
Apologize, OneRepublic f. Timbaland


Wednesday, December 31, 2003

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Emily closed her eyes and sighed in deep happiness. “That might be the best cake I’ve ever tasted in my entire life.”

“You’re just saying that because it’s chocolate,” Elizabeth replied as she took the chocolate cake sample from Emily and cut her own small piece of it.

“No, that will change lives. It might even cure cancer—”

“All right, now you’re being dramatic—” Elizabeth almost moaned as the fudge chocolate touched her tongue. “Oh my God—”

“Ha.” Emily looked at her watch. “I thought you said Bobbie was coming.”

“She was supposed to, but—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “She might have got stuck at work.” She reached over with her fork. “Gimme more—”

“Uh huh, get your own cake—” Emily lifted the plate away from her. “Should we even bother with the other types?”

“That depends.” Elizabeth leaned back. “Hey, Jason, do you care if I pick fudge chocolate or lemon chiffon for the cake?”

“What?” Jason emerged from the kitchen, a cup of herbal tea in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. He frowned as he set both on the coffee table. “Is that second one even food?”

“See, he thinks he doesn’t care—give him some of that chocolate—” Elizabeth gestured to Emily, who was protecting what was left of the sample.

“No, ma’am, this is my cake. I have an overnight shift tonight, and I deserve it—”

“It’s my wedding cake—don’t make me come over there—”

“Fine,” Emily grunted and picked a tiny sliver off the cake with her fork and held it out to her brother, who seemed mildly amused by the entire exchange. “Here.”

Jason took the fork from her and ate it. “It’s fine.”

“Are you kidding me?” Elizabeth grunted as she sipped her tea. “The wedding’s off.”

“Uh huh.” He handed his sister the fork and leaned over to kiss the top of Elizabeth’s head. “You okay here for a little while? I need to check on some things at the warehouse.”

“Yeah, Monica said she probably wouldn’t know anything for a few more hours, and Emily’s doesn’t have work until later—”

“Not until I have figured out how to bathe in this cake,” Emily said, forcing a smile, not wanting to bring down Elizabeth’s good mood by lingering too long on the subject of her test results.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a bit.” He hesitated again, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She reached over to the side table, took out a bottle of pills and counted out two, and picked up the glass of water. Only after she’d taken them did Jason leave.

Emily pursed her lips, looked after her brother. “What was that about?”

“Oh. Monica increased the dosage of my blood thinners. I take two around lunch, then one before bed. It’s a new schedule, and Jason doesn’t want me to mess them up.”

“What, does he think you’re an idiot? How do you not want to smack him? You’re an adult, you know how to take medication—”

“It bothered me when I got out of the hospital in July,” Elizabeth admitted. “We weren’t even living together yet, and he was always asking me about my medicine, but I realized—” She hesitated. “He can’t do anything about—” She gestured at her body. “Any of this. Literally, the only thing he can do is remind me about the medicine, make sure I eat—it’s just—it’s how he’s coping with it.”

“Oh.” Emily sat back, frowning, “And it’s okay with you? I mean, I’m sure it comes from a good place, but—”

“It used to drive me up the wall—but then I had that panic attack and hyperventilated when we slept together for the first time, and it hit me that night—what he’d gone through that day when I almost died. Yeah, I almost did the dying, but he had to watch.” Elizabeth lifted a shoulder. “And I’m lucky, too. A lot of guys—maybe most—would have found hyperventilating after sex to be a huge turnoff.”

She picked up the lemon chiffon and smiled slightly. “That was never a problem for him. I guess it’s just how you look at it. Jason will never be into PDA or be one of those guys who make those huge romantic gestures. Not like the movies. He shows it in other ways. Like irritating me over my medicine or drowning me in water.”

“That’s you know when you put it that way, it is sweet,” Emily admitted. “And I’m glad you can see it that way.” She bit her lip. “You—you’re handling things okay. I expected you to be climbing the walls.”

Elizabeth used her fork to cut herself a piece of the sample. “I was worse yesterday,” she admitted. “But I’ve been resting the last three weeks, and today I do feel a bit better. Also, I’m trying to focus on the good things. Like scheduling the fitting for my wedding dress next week, and making sure that the hotel gets decorated—” She sighed at the lemon cake. “Picking out my cake. Damn it. This is good, too.”

“Lemme see—” Emily reached over with her fork, then slid the bite into her mouth. “Oh, God. That is—how are we supposed to pick?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and considered both cake samples. “You know, I bet Jason wouldn’t even blink if I ordered both.”

“That is the best idea you’ve had all day.”

Central Avenue: Sidewalk

Tamika was bouncing on the balls of her feet as she and Justus approached the storefront, where her sister was waiting with a big smile on her face.

“This is better than Philly,” Portia declared as they reached her. She beamed as Tamika unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Philly was a wing and a prayer—this place—this is where we take over the world!”

She all but danced inside, turning in big sweeping turns as her older sister watched her.

“What do you think?” Tamika asked, turning to Justus. “I mean, I know the location is perfect, but—”

“This is great,” Justus told her. He looked around, lifted his head to look at the high ceilings. “I think your sister has a great point. Opening another branch, in this area of the city where the hotels and tourists are—this is definitely a good step. I mean, I know it’s not Fifth Avenue in New York,” he teased.

“Oh, that is next,” Portia declared as she danced over to them. “And to my favorite brother-in-law who pulled all the strings and favors to get us this location—” She gave him a big smack on the lips. “Favorite brother-in-law,” she repeated with a huge grin.

Only brother-in-law,” Justus reminded her dryly.

“And get your own man, girl—” Tamika playfully shoved her sister. “This is a big town—”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me. While y’all were boring at home last night,” Portia said, “I hit the town. I went to that club you told me about—the blues club?”

“Oh, yeah, Luke’s. It’s owned by an old friend of mine.” Justus glanced at Tamika, who sighed and nodded, knowing the history Justus shared with Luke and Laura Spencer, and the tension between them all after Laura had been tried for murdering Damian Smith when Justus had actually killed him.

“You didn’t tell me you met anyone.” Tamika wiggled her brows. “Spill! What’s the tea?”

“Oh, he is a gorgeous hunk of a man,” Portia sighed, dreamily, putting her hands under her chin and fluttering her eyelashes. “Not a bad dancer either—he invited me back tonight for New Year’s—apparently the club throws a real bash.”

“Second date already. Nice—”

Justus was only half-listening to his wife and her sister as he wandered over to a counter and peered underneath, but then he heard something that chilled him down to the bone. He straightened. “What did you say his name was?”

Portia turned and blinked at him, then her eyes widened. “Oh! You probably know him since you used to be the DA here, right? He was—still is—a cop—his name is Marcus—”

“Oh.” Justus closed his eyes, grimaced. “Tell me you’re not talking about Marcus Taggert—”

“That’s his name.” Portia turned back to her sister. “Doesn’t sound like a delicious name? Mm—”

“Hell,” Justus muttered. Maybe Taggert would screw this up, and he’d never, ever have to socialize with the man. He scowled. Just his luck.

Brownstone: Living Room

Carly laid Morgan on his back in the middle of the living room, then grinned up at Michael, who was reaching for one of the dangling toys hanging from the arch that rose over Morgan’s body.

Her two-month-old son giggled, shook his little fists, and rocked back and forth. He wasn’t quite ready to roll over yet, but Carly was just enjoying this moment—she’d missed so much of Michael’s first year and was relieved to be able to have this with Morgan.

“I’m late,” Bobbie said with a sigh as she fastened a bracelet and walked past them. “I was supposed to be at Elizabeth’s for the cake thing an hour ago.”

“Elizabeth will understand,” Carly said as she tickled the bottom of Morgan’s feet. “You were vomited on at the hospital, and if the soap in the staff bathroom is anything like the one in the patient showers, it makes complete sense that you came home to shower.”

“I know. I meant to call, but I kept getting distracted, and now—” Bobbie planted her hands on her hips, grinning down at the trio. “Is that my baby thinking about rolling over?”

Morgan tried to turn his head towards his grandmother’s voice, shaking his fist.

“Getting distracted again, Mama—”

“Shoot,” Bobbie muttered. She went over to the table to grab her purse, then scowled as she caught sight of something out the window. “Michael, why don’t you go to your room and play that video game I bought you for Christmas? The little one that fits in your hand?”

Michael frowned. “Grammy—”

Bobbie turned to look at Carly with trepidation, before looking at Michael. “Humor me, baby. Just for a little while—”

Okay,” Michael said, climbing to his feet and shooting his grandmother a look of confusion over his shoulder as he went down the hallway towards his room. Carly got to her feet, then picked Morgan up.

“Mama—” She followed her mother’s gaze, then swallowed hard as she saw Sonny striding towards the Brownstone door. “Oh, why is he here?”

“I don’t know. I saw him pull up and thought it might be better if Michael were—”

Carly hurried over to set Morgan in his bassinet, then set the stuffed animal with him so that she could join her mother in the foyer. She wasn’t afraid of sending Sonny away on her own—

But she was glad she wouldn’t have to. She knew from Jason that Sonny had not sought out any type of help, and the more time passed, the more likely Sonny would somehow make this Carly’s fault—

He was always good at blaming everything on her.

Bobbie pulled open the door even before Sonny could knock. “Why are you here?” she demanded.

Sonny scowled, looked past his mother-in-law at Carly. “Well, for one thing, you wouldn’t let me see my kids at Christmas—”

“I told you, you were welcome to come over if Jason was with you. You said you didn’t need a babysitter, and that was the end of it.” Carly folded her arms. “Anything else?”

“I want to see the boys. Today.” Sonny flicked his eyes at Bobbie. “We need to talk about this like adults. Without your mother—”

“You can go straight to—”

“Mama.” Carly stepped up beside her mother. “Go into the living room. Just for a minute. Sonny’s not staying.”

Bobbie pursed her lips, then with a huff, walked into the living room to check on Morgan. Carly blocked Sonny’s view into the rest of the house. “Have you made an appointment with a therapist yet?”

“I don’t need to talk to anyone,” Sonny told her. “Look—I get it. I know it was wrong—it was terrible what I did. And I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I thought—I thought we could talk about security changes, so you don’t feel trapped.”

Carly closed her eyes, shook her head. “I don’t need any security changes. I’m fine where I am. You need to sort yourself out so that what happened a few weeks ago—what happened last summer—never happens again—”

“I just need my wife to give me a little bit of understanding and forgiveness,” Sonny cut in, his tone clipped. “Haven’t I always forgiven you?”

Carly stared at him for a long time. “This isn’t about what I’ve done wrong,” she said slowly, “or mistakes that I’ve made. You don’t get to use those when we’re talking about what happened. I broke your trust, and you chose to forgive me.”

“You’re not doing the same for me—”

“You didn’t just break my trust, Sonny—” Her voice strangled. How did he not understand— “You broke me.”

Sonny swallowed hard. “I know—”

“No, you don’t know. I told you that I am afraid of you, Sonny—” He flinched. “When I look at you, I don’t see my husband or a father—I see the man who locked me in a room and—now—the nightmares just aren’t about Ric,” she said, her voice breaking on the last word. “They’re about you. And what you did. What you might do again.”

“I—” Sonny said nothing for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. Okay. So you need more time—”

“I don’t need time, Sonny, I need you to fix this—”

“And I will when Ric Lansing is gone, and I know my family is safe,” Sonny snapped, his eyes crackling with anger. “You promised you’d stay until he was found—you broke my trust, again, and now—I’m willing to forgive that—” His words were coming faster now, and she wasn’t even sure if he believed them.

“I’m closing the door,” Carly said. “Don’t come back again.”

Quietly, she shut the door on his face, in the middle of his declaration that they were both wrong, and both of them needed to fix things. Carly leaned her head against the door and closed her eyes.

Behind her, Bobbie stepped up, put her hands on Carly’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, baby. But I’m so proud of you.”

“You should—” Carly took a deep breath, turning to face her mother. “You should get going. Elizabeth is expecting you—”

“I’ll call her. She’ll understand that you need me right now. You did the right thing, Carly.”

“I know.” Carly’s smile wavered but didn’t fade. “I just wish it didn’t feel like this.” She pressed her hands to her eyes, waited a moment. “Okay. I’m going back to be with my boys. You want to get pizza for dinner? I think I deserve it.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason’s Office

“Have you heard back about the tests?” Justus asked as he slid a contract across the desk towards Jason. “Or are you still waiting?”

“Still waiting.” Jason checked the clock on his desk. Nearly four. “But Monica said it would be today.” He scribbled his name at the bottom. “How much more do we need to do? Emily had to leave for her shift at three, and I don’t want Elizabeth alone at the penthouse for long.”

Justus raised his brows, sat back in his chair. “Because of how she’s been feeling lately or because of who lives across the hall?”

Jason tensed, set the pen down, and raised his eyes to meet his cousin’s direct gaze. “What does that mean?”

“It means that Sonny came to the office yesterday, wanting me to file for custody of the boys. To demand visitation rights.” Justus rubbed his chin. “And I told him if it went to court, no judge in the world would give him anything other than supervised visits.”

It was too much to hope that Jason would be able to avoid having this conversation or dealing with Sonny’s crap for a few more days. He put his head in his hands, took a deep breath. “What did he say to that?”

“He seemed to understand, then suggested Carly just needs more time and space.” Justus tipped his head. “Time and space, Jason. That’s what Carly needs. I, uh, get the feeling that he thinks Carly is being a bit unreasonable.”

Jason scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t need this right now,” he muttered.

“No, I know that. And if you didn’t live across the hall from him, I wouldn’t say anything. But how long do you want us to keep Puerto Rico from him?” Justus asked. “Johnny knows about it. His guys know about it. There’s a grapevine with this kind of thing. And then once he does finds out about Puerto Rico—”

“It’ll start all over again, except now Carly is at the Brownstone where Sonny can’t…”

“Lock her up?”

“Don’t—” Jason stopped because, of course, Justus was right. With Carly and the boys out of Sonny’s control and holding firm to her demand that Sonny get help before she’d come back—that meant Jason would be getting the brunt of Sonny’s crap.

As would anyone around him.

“What do you think I should do?” Jason asked. He scowled. “I mean, you obviously want me to do something, Justus. What should I do? Tie him up? Make him go to get professional help? Throw him in a pit? What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know.” Justus’s shoulders slumped, and he looked away. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “I just know that I’m not happy that Sonny is starting to create a narrative where he’s not the bad guy. As far as he’s concerned, he just made a mistake. Right now, he’s keeping his distance from Carly, not really forcing things—what happened when he decides he’s not wrong, but she is?”

“I’ll talk to him.” Jason got to his feet. “But there’s not much else I can do. The shipments are running on schedule. Tommy and Johnny aren’t reporting any issues from their end. Right now, what’s happening with Sonny is personal. Which makes it his problem to fix, not mine. I got Carly out, didn’t I? And I haven’t said she should go back. And—” He hesitated. “Cody has orders not to let Sonny into the penthouse unless I’m there. What are you looking for?”

“I guess that’s enough.” Justus also stood. “I don’t want you to have to deal with this either,” he said. “You got your own life to live, Jason. Your own family—”

“I know what I—” He scowled, looked down at his phone when a text message flashed on the screen. He picked it up, flipped it open to see Elizabeth’s name with a message attached.

monica coming over.

He sent her a quick reply that he’d be home shortly, then closed his phone, sliding it into his back pocket. “I know what my responsibilities are,” Jason told his cousin. “Elizabeth and our son are at the top. I have to go.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Anna scowled as she set down the phone and glared at the mayor as he walked into her office. “Is your source screwing with us?” she demanded. She got to her feet and folded her arms. “Three sightings, and not a single piece of evidence to back any of them up—”

Ned glanced at Taggert, who seemed mystified at Anna’s irritation. “Uh, I don’t think my source would mess with me on this.” He furrowed his brow, set his coat over the back of the chair. “It’s been twenty-four hours—maybe they’re just missing him—”

“I could believe that in Caracas, but Puerto Rico is a U.S. territory,” Anna reminded them. “It’s not as easy as you think to smuggle in and out of there—especially from Venezuela. It’s not a market for undocumented immigrants, so there’s less human trafficking—there’s simply no evidence that Ric Lansing ever entered the country or left. Are you absolutely sure that your source isn’t wasting our time?”

“I am positive,” Ned said, “that my source would see no point in screwing with you. He wouldn’t lie to me—”

“Is it Morgan?” Taggert said idly, tipping his head at the mayor. “He’s your cousin—”

“You think Jason Morgan is working with the PCPD?” Ned said with a scoff. He shook his head. “He wouldn’t. And he’s got enough problems on his plate right now. Sonny and Carly are separated—again.”

Anna pursed her lips, then sat down. “My contacts at Interpol are a bit unhappy with me that I keep passing them information that is nothing more than some guy saw someone somewhere,” she told Ned. “They’re not going to be willing to look into another tip like that. Not after three failures.”

“Fair enough.” Ned hesitated. “Why would anyone go to the trouble of screwing with me or Interpol?”

“Well,” Anna said, “for one thing, if Ric Lansing is dead, then you can throw off the scent by planting a false trail.”

Ned sat down, a bit heavily at that news. Taggert sat in the chair next to him. “You’re not looking at Sonny or Jason over this, are you?”

“When I looked at the case last month, everyone seemed quite sure that they wouldn’t have done Lansing in at this point—months ago, yes, but not the week before the trial.” Anna leaned back in her chair, tapping her pencil. “I was willing to agree—to a point. But nearly two months in, and all we have are unsubstantiated sightings? Not a single piece of physical evidence? I think Lansing is dead. And I think that obviously Sonny and Jason have done a decent job at rehabilitating their image if you’re so convinced they wouldn’t do this—”

“I never said they wouldn’t do this,” Taggert said with a scowl. “I said they didn’t. There’s a difference, Anna. And—judging from the way Sonny Corinthos has treated his wife since their kid was born, if Sonny doesn’t think Ric is out there, waiting to come after his family, then either he’s crazy as hell or incredibly cruel.”

Anna narrowed her eyes. “Explain,” she ordered.

“I don’t know what went down after the hearing,” Taggert said, looking at Ned for a minute before looking back at Anna when the mayor didn’t offer to fill in any blanks. “I just know that Carly was staying at the penthouse after the baby was born, then was back at the Brownstone after the hearing. And judging from the way she came back—and the way her things were moved back in—it was not planned. And Sonny has shown up a few times, trying to convince Carly to go back.”

“That also might be Carly learning that Sonny lured her to move back in with a lie,” Anna said, “then somehow learned he had already gotten rid of Ric. She’d likely leave him over that, wouldn’t she?”

“Possibly,” Taggert admitted.

“But Jason isn’t acting like Ric is dead,” Ned said. “I—I told him the PCPD was shelving the case, and while he was disappointed, he understood. He told me he’s pretty sure Lansing is in South America—”

“Which doesn’t do anything to suggest I’m not right,” Anna pointed out.

“Does Elizabeth still think Ric’s alive?” Taggert asked, looking at Ned. “Is there any way to find that out?”

“Yes. Because Jason knew he’d have to tell her she wasn’t going to get a trial—and before you tell me that he would still think that if he’d killed Ric, let me tell you that I know Jason. You don’t. And he’s not lying to Elizabeth. Not over this. And not right now.” Ned shook his head. “He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar.”

“What’s your read on Morgan?” Anna asked Taggert. “Would he lie to Elizabeth?”

“That’s tricky,” Taggert admitted. Ned scowled, and Taggert shook his head. “Let me clarify. I absolutely don’t think he’d lie to her about Ric. I do think he’d tell her what was really going on, and then she’d lie to us in a heartbeat to protect him.”

He hesitated, looked at Ned. “But—I’m still struggling with the idea that they’d let Ric get that close to trial, knowing Elizabeth and Carly wanted to testify—then get rid of him. I can buy Corinthos doing that, but it’s harder for me to believe Morgan would do that to Elizabeth.”

He looked at Anna. “But let’s take your theory a step further. If Lansing is dead, and someone is trying to plant a false trail—why does it have to be Corinthos and Morgan? Scott said he thought Ric might try to make a deal in exchange for testimony about his father—Scott had already decided against a deal, and I think Ric knew that, but it makes you wonder if maybe Ric had the same idea that Vinnie did.”

“To turn it into a federal case?” Ned asked.

“Zacchara and his lawyer—they had a good reason to want Ric dead, too. And he disappeared from their estate.”

Ned frowned, looked at Anna. “That makes sense. The Zaccharas could be trying to throw off the scent—or making Corinthos and Morgan focus their energies somewhere else. If they’re looking for Ric—”

“They’re not thinking of retaliating against Anthony or Trevor for sending the idiot in the first place.” Anna pursed her lips. “It’s a thought. And it’s one I’m going to start considering. I’d be very interested if your source had any other sightings of Ric and where they might pop up. First—two generic sightings in Caracas.”

She tapped a pencil against her desk. “Then a sighting in Puerto Rico? Near a club that Interpol tells me is likely a front for one of the local organizations? Maybe the Zaccharas are trying to distract Sonny and Jason so they can make their move—and a mob war is the last thing any of us need.”

“Well, on that happy note,” Ned said, wryly, “I should get back to work. Call me if anything changes.”

“Taggert—a moment—” Anna called as the mayor left. Taggert frowned at her. “Capelli was able to get a search warrant for one of the clubs. For tonight.”

Taggert grimaced, then nodded. “Well, I guess he was bound to find the right judge eventually. Why are you telling me?”

“Because I’m sure the memo of recently approved warrants is on your desk as we speak, and I—” Anna pursed her lips. “I would be disappointed if the news reached Corinthos or Morgan—”

“Excuse me?” Taggert demanded. “You think after everything this department has been through, I’d turn dirty—” His blood pounded in his ears. “What the hell—”

“You’ve been very supportive of Corinthos and Morgan—”

“No, I’ve been fucking objective—” Taggert took a deep breath, put a hand up in between them. Forced himself to calm down. “You don’t know me, so you don’t understand how insulting this is. I hate Sonny Corinthos. I don’t like Jason Morgan all that much, either. But I’ve been on this case, watching the two of them from the beginning. I know they’re criminals. I know—”

“I apologize if you’re offended—”

“You don’t know me,” he repeated. “The day we can break the mob for good in this town will be the best day of my career. But I don’t work Organized Crimes anymore because I lost that objectivity. I couldn’t see straight. I thought Corinthos and Morgan were behind all the crimes—all the bad stuff in this city—there’s no way in hell—”

“All right.” Anna sat back. “I’m sorry.”

He hissed, then stormed out of the office, irritated at the world.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Monica was already sitting on the sofa with Elizabeth when Jason got home twenty minutes later. He stripped off his jacket and tossed it over the desk. Elizabeth didn’t look upset, he noted as he sat down on the other side of her—

“She just got here,” Elizabeth told him, squeezing his hand. “I wanted to wait for you.” She turned back to Monica, keeping Jason’s hand laced through hers. “So?”

“So.” Monica took a deep breath. “I’ll just be direct, all right? You have a condition called chronic thromboembolic pulmonary hypertension.”

Elizabeth blinked, looked at Jason again with a frown. “Thromboembolic,” she repeated. “Like embolism?”

“Pulmonary hypertension,” Jason repeated. “That’s—that’s an issue with the blood pressure in her lungs.”

“Yes. Basically, Elizabeth, you have blood clots in the vessels of your lungs,” Monica explained. “These blood clots probably formed a few months ago—after we stopped scanning in September. The way that this condition works—we call it CTEPH for short—is that they don’t develop or dissolve in the lungs. Instead, they’re in the vessels and create what looks like scar tissue, so even if the clots resolve on their own—”

“They leave damage behind them,” Elizabeth said faintly. “I—how many clots do I have right now?”

“None that are currently active. At least not as of yesterday. I would have treated them through the angiography. But the vessels in your lungs are constricted,” Monica told her. “Which is, in part, why you’ve been having so much trouble breathing. Also, because oxygen isn’t circulating in your blood correctly, it’s making it difficult for your heart to pump normally.”

Elizabeth pressed her free hand to her chest as a tear slid down her cheek, splashed onto the back of Jason’s hand. Jason wasn’t doing well with breathing himself, he realized.

This—this was so much worse than he’d expected. Elizabeth’s lungs were damaged, and her heart wasn’t working—

“What—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. Couldn’t speak.

“What does this mean?” Jason managed. “For Elizabeth—For the baby—”

“Well, there is some good news,” Monica told them. “This type of pulmonary hypertension—CTEPH—it can be cured through surgery. A doctor can basically remove the scar tissue, and you’d be able to make a full recovery.”

Elizabeth’s breath came out in a huge whoosh as her shoulders shook slightly. “Can—when I can I have the surgery?”

Monica pressed her lips together, looked at Jason for a moment, then again at Elizabeth. “It would be impossible to have the surgery while pregnant,” she told her softly.

“I—” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I don’t—what—”

“Kelly and I are researching this now,” Monica told her. “CTEPH is rare—and there haven’t been many case studies of pregnancy with the condition. The few we’ve found—well—” She cleared her throat. “We want to get a full picture of what we’re dealing with before we move forward with a treatment plan.”

“Monica,” Jason said when Elizabeth simply couldn’t speak anymore. “Elizabeth is twenty-three weeks along. What—can we wait—”

“I don’t know,” Monica told him with deep regret. “And of course, Kelly and I both anticipated that Elizabeth would—that you’d both want to explore any and all options that prioritize the baby.”

Jason nodded. “What can we do until you and Kelly know more?” he asked. “Can you—is there medication? Treatment?”

“There aren’t a lot of options for pregnant women,” Monica said. “We want you to continue on the blood thinners. We’ll also want to make sure that you have a healthy balance of nutrition, exercise, and rest. We’ll want to monitor your oxygen levels—”

“I can’t—” Elizabeth struggled to her feet, pushed Jason’s arm away, and walked away—towards the mantel. “I can’t do this right now. I can’t—”

Jason went to her, but hesitated to reach out, to touch her— He looked back at his mother. “Can you maybe write some things down? We’ll look at them later.”

“Of course.” Monica got to her feet. “I’ve spoken to Alan about the case,” she told them. “If there’s anything the hospital needs—I want to be ready. I’m contacting other doctors—particularly the best ones who are certified for the surgery—I’m—” Her voice faltered for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jason told her. He cleared his throat but found he didn’t know what else to say. Elizabeth was still facing away from him, her arms curled around herself.

“I’ll let you two have some time to talk this over,” Monica said. “I’ll be in touch when Kelly and I are ready to talk through some more options, and I’ll get you a list of things you can do in the meantime. For now, just do what you’ve been doing. Resting, eating well, taking care of yourself.”

“We will.”

When the door clicked softly, indicating Monica had left, Jason turned his attention back to Elizabeth. He didn’t know what to say to her. He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t even promise her it would be okay.

Elizabeth turned to look at him, her eyes almost blank with shock, tears staining her cheeks. “He’s going to take this from me, too, isn’t he?” she asked, her voice so faint he had to strain to hear it. “My baby. My health. My future. Everything.”

“No—” Jason’s paralysis broke, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drew her against him tightly, burying his face in her hair. “No,” he repeated, roughly. “We’ll get all the doctors. We’ll do anything they tell us. We’ll make sure you and the baby—you’ll have whatever you need. Whatever I have to pay—”

“I just t-thought—” Her body started to shake with the force of her tears. “I thought our baby w-was a m-miracle—t-hat—that we-were finally going to be happy—”

He couldn’t promise her that it would be okay. Couldn’t do anything except hold her as she sobbed. Jason just held her tightly and hoped that it would be enough to get them through this moment, even if he had no idea how to face what was coming next.

This entry is part 18 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

I don’t know how much longer I can fake it
That it’s all alright, that I can do this alone
And I know that life is what you make it
But it’s hard to see stars when you’re always caught in the folds
Won’t Stop Running, A Great Big World


Tuesday, December 30, 2003

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

When Jason saw his phone light up with Johnny’s name flashing on the Caller ID screen, he hesitated before reaching for it. He’d told Justus and Bernie he wasn’t handling business today unless it was an emergency, and he knew Johnny would have called one of them first with any news before passing it on to him.

Elizabeth was trying to keep her mood upbeat and focus on diagnosis and treatment of whatever was wrong, but Jason could see it was taking a toll on her. He planned to spend the entire day to focus on her, even though he knew it was going to irritate Sonny if it got back to him Jason still wasn’t going to be at the warehouse.

He heard the shower click off in the bathroom as his phone continued to ring. Finally, Jason answered it—

“Johnny—”

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” Johnny O’Brien began, “but Justus wanted you to get this from me instead of passing it to Sonny directly.”

Which meant it was about Ric. They hadn’t anything since the sighting a few weeks ago in Venezuela, and Jason had wanted it to be the end of it, to get back to normal— “What happened?”

“Last night, one of my guys saw Lansing here in Puerto Rico. Outside one of Sonny’s clubs in San Juan.”

Jason exhaled slowly, rubbed the back of his neck, and turned when he heard the bathroom door open. Elizabeth emerged, wrapped in a terry cloth towel, her dry hair pinned up on her head.

“Should I go back—” she started to offer, but he shook his head. She slipped past him to walk over to the closet and open it.

“What happened after that?”

“Gabe tried to catch up with him, called it in to get more eyes, but lost sight of him. I’m sorry, Jase—”

“It’s okay. Just—just keep your eyes and ears open, and I’ll deal with it on our end. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

Jason closed the phone, then turned to force a smile at Elizabeth as she dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Sorry about that—”

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth bit her lip as she played with the end of her sleeve. “Everything okay? I mean—do you have to—”

“I have to make one call.” Jason crossed over to her, kissed her forehead. “But that’s it. You’re stuck with me today.”

Elizabeth smiled up at him, then sighed, leaning her head against his chest. “I’m trying not to be scared,” she admitted softly. “We’re catching it early, you know? Before it can get as bad as it did last time.”

“Exactly.” Jason tipped her face up to look at him. “We’ll get through this. No matter what happens.”

Elizabeth touched her belly. “He’s the size of a mango this week,” she told him. “That’s what the book says.” She exhaled slowly. “Monica wouldn’t be asking for this test unless she was worried. There are other ways to diagnose a clot—but if she thinks the risk to the baby is worth it—”

“Hey.” Jason leaned down, brushed his mouth against hers. “It’ll be okay—” He sighed when she just shook her head because they both knew he couldn’t promise that.

“Make your call,” Elizabeth told him. She kissed his cheek. “I’m going downstairs to get started on the water I need to drink, especially since I’m starving and can’t eat before the test.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he promised. He watched her leave, then picked up his phone again to dial Ned and pass on the Puerto Rico tip. He couldn’t keep this from Sonny forever, but there was no way Jason was telling him today.

General Hospital: Kevin Collins’ Office

“Carly.” Kevin squeezed her hand as she came into his office. “How are you? How was your Christmas?”

“It was okay,” Carly said hesitantly as he closed the door and gestured for her to take a seat. “Thanks for fitting me in. I know things are busy with the holiday—”

“I’m just sorry you felt the need to come back at all. You were doing so well,” Kevin said. He sat down behind his desk. “You said you had a pretty serious episode?”

“Yeah. Um, a few weeks ago. December 9.” Carly fidgeted in the seat. “I don’t know if you were paying attention to the news, but the Vinnie Esposito case—”

“There was a hearing in Syracuse,” Kevin said. “Mac’s a friend of mine,” he added. “I know Elizabeth testified. Did you go?”

“Yeah, Sonny and I both went. Um, it was the first time I’d really been out of the house since Morgan was born. Since Ric disappeared.” Carly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and briefly told Kevin about separating from Sonny, returning for safety reasons, and their arguments about her security and returning to work.

“On the day I was supposed to go back to work in December,” Carly continued, “it became very clear that he’d either forgotten or never intended to keep his promises. He never hired Leticia back—and she took another job, so my son lost the nanny he’d had since birth.” That stung the most — she’d always known her boys were safe with Leticia, and you couldn’t have that comfort with everyone. “I mean, even AJ let me keep the nanny Jason hired for him, and AJ hated everything Jason did for Michael.”

Kevin nodded, made a note with his pencil. “So, what happened when you realized that?”

“Sonny had already gone to work, and he was ignoring my calls. He knew I’d be angry—” Carly cleared her throat. “But I didn’t know what I was going to do. There was no one to stay with Morgan, no way for me to get in and out of the building with the new security because I didn’t have a key or a driver—I knew—” Her mouth felt dry as she forced the words out. “I felt trapped.”

When Kevin drew his brows together, Carly hurried to continue, “but Jason and Elizabeth came over. She offered her guard that day, and Jason gave me his key.”

She paused, remembering that moment. “I thought—well, that’s it. He broke his promise. He’s—it’s not different. And I can’t live like this. So I went to work, went to Jason’s because he’d picked up Michael for me, and they’d watched Morgan all day. I was planning to leave. Thinking about how to tell the boys.”

“But you didn’t leave.”

“No, I didn’t. Because Sonny had ignored my calls all day, and it must not have occurred to him that I’d find a way out. He came home, couldn’t find me, and came to Jason’s place, flipping out. He couldn’t breathe—he almost collapsed on the floor—and I knew—”

She stared at the floor as if Sonny were in front of her, that pale, sickly expression on his face. “I couldn’t leave him like that.” She looked at Kevin. “I stayed. I tried to make a compromise with him, and I know he was sorry. He said he was, and he agreed to do better. I just—I thought maybe if I tried harder, if I gave in more, maybe they’d find Ric, and it would be over.”

“What changed on the day of the hearing?”

“I don’t really know,” Carly admitted. “I think—I think it was knowing that while I was feeling locked up and trapped, Elizabeth was just living her life next door. Going to support meetings, organizing that hearing, preparing her testimony—and I was barely able to move a muscle without getting permission from my husband.”

Her lips twisted in a sour smile. “She’s probably who Ric would come after. He was obsessed with her, not me. She’s actually pregnant with medical issues that put her health at risk, but Jason let her set her own limits.”

Carly took a deep breath. “It was such a hard day, listening to her testimony. Listening to what she’d been through the day Vinnie attacked her, but I just kept watching her be strong, and then I watched Jason watching her. He was so proud of her—scared out of his mind—but so goddamn proud of what she was doing. And I thought—”

Carly closed her eyes. “I know how it sounds. I know it sounds like I’m jealous, that maybe I’m still in love with him, and I’m not. I don’t know if I ever was. I don’t want Jason. I just—I want that feeling.”

She opened her eyes to see Kevin looking at her, his head tipped slightly to the side. “What feeling is that?” he asked.

“Of knowing that no matter what happens—no matter what life throws at you—there is always one person who will always be on your side. Who will always, always believe in you. Who will hold you when you need it. I just—to Jason, Elizabeth is the most important person in the world. And maybe it’s selfish, but I just…I want that. I want to be the most important person to someone.”

She swiped at her eyes. “And I came home to the penthouse, and I looked at Sonny—and I just—I knew that while I had been putting him at the center—while I had been twisting myself in and out to give him what he needed—he never—not once—did the same for me. And I just…in that moment—it just stopped being enough.”

Carly exhaled slowly. “After that, it’s pretty straightforward. I told him I was leaving, I went up to pack, and he came upstairs and locked me in the bedroom. It’s not a big room, and it has no windows.”

Kevin leaned back, the corners of his mouth turned down. “And that sent you into the episode.”

“I was screaming for him to let me out, screaming for someone—and after that, it’s harder to remember all of it,” Carly admitted. “Everything is just flashes. Elizabeth was there, and I thought maybe she was—maybe Ric had locked her in with me—or then I thought I was watching her drink that water—I remembered Jason—I thought it was on the monitors, watching him—I just—” She looked at him. “I didn’t know what was real or what was in my mind.”

Kevin stood up, rounded the desk, offered Carly a box of tissues. “How did you get out?” he asked softly.

“Jason and Elizabeth,” Carly told him in a soft voice. She took a tissue, dabbed her eyes. “They could hear me screaming from the other penthouse, and they—Jason broke down the door, Elizabeth took me to their place so my mother could come get me. They—” Her voice broke. “They got me out. Again. But it was Sonny who locked me up this time.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “And would you believe he’s angry at me for not letting it go?”

“Is he?” Kevin asked, his voice laced with steel. She looked up to find that he’d taken his seat again, his jaw clenched. He forced himself to relax. “Why do you think that is?”

“Because—in his mind—he did something terrible in a moment of weakness. And because I mostly understand how we got to that point, I should be willing to overlook it. To forgive it.”

Her hands were trembling slightly, so Carly laced them together. “And what terrifies me is I might agree. Because I love him. Because I want my boys to have a family—because when things are good between us—like they were last year for a while—I do feel like I’m the most important person in the world. And I know—God, I know this is about how scared he was when Ric kidnapped me. I do understand how this happened—how he could think even for a second that locking me up to keep me safe made perfect sense.”

She picked up another tissue. “And if it were just me—I think I would go back,” Carly admitted in a small voice. “How stupid is that?”

“It’s not stupid, Carly, for you to recognize that Sonny’s actions make a terrible kind of sense.” Kevin paused. “In fact, it shows a great sense of empathy that you didn’t just write him off as a monster, that you’ve attempted to understand it. Having listened to you talk about his past, I know that you’ve accepted Sonny has a mental illness that has been untreated and undiagnosed for many years. That’s not stupid, Carly.”

“I can’t go back,” Carly told him, her chest tight. “I can’t live like that. It’s not just me. My boys can’t do it. I found out later that when Elizabeth tried to help me, he pushed her—and if he could do that to an adult woman, if he could lock me up after everything I’ve been through—he could turn on anyone. And I need to protect my family. My boys.”

“And yourself,” Kevin finished.

Carly exhaled slowly, nodded. “Yes. And myself. I can’t go back to that panic room ever again. I won’t survive it. Even if it’s just in my own head. I can’t sleep—I’m having concentration issues again—it’s like—all the work we did last summer—it didn’t matter. It’s back, and I don’t know if I can make it stop.”

“Well, last time we were able to concentrate on behavior,” Kevin told her. He scribbled something on a pad of paper. “But I think this time—in addition to continuing to meet, it might be time to try some medication to ease the anxiety.”

Carly bit her lip. She hated the idea of taking pills, but — “All right. I just—I’ll do whatever I need to do to stop it. I don’t want to live like this.”

PCPD: Locker Room

Lucky stripped off his t-shirt and tossed it in his locker, pulling out his white undershirt and uniform shirt. He glanced over to his left at his quiet partner who was buttoning his shirt.

“How was Bensonhurst?”

Dante blinked at him, then sighed as he sat on the bench to pull on his shoes. “Quiet. No one really knew what to say to each other. My aunt didn’t come—she was mad that my Uncle Frankie had invited me and my mother. That my grandmother allowed it.”

“But that’s good,” Lucky said. “That your grandmother let you guys come.”

“Sure.” But Dante’s kept his lips pressed together firmly. “She apologized for slapping me after the hearing—” He hesitated. “But I think that’s because it was caught by the newspaper and my Uncle Frankie was mad at her. She’s not really sorry about doing it. Or for—” He stopped. “For anything else.”

“You never really told us what happened,” Cruz said from behind them. They both turned. “You didn’t even tell us you’d seen her until it was in the papers.”

Dante shrugged, pinned his badge on, then closed his locker. “What’s the point? It happened. It’s over. Vinnie was sentenced, and he’s starting his fifty to life at Attica now.”

“C’mon—”

“I’ll see you out there.”

He stepped away from them, and a few minutes later, they heard the locker room door close. Lucky looked at Cruz. “‘I’m not crazy, am I? I feel like something else happened.”

“Maybe,” Cruz admitted. “Or maybe it’s not that complicated. His cousin is going to prison for brutally raping a lot of women, one of whom Dante loved like a sister and committed suicide. And Dante’s part of the reason Vinnie couldn’t claim he was framed. You need more?”

“No, but he was handling all of it until the hearing—and then—” Lucky sighed. He closed his locker. “But you’re right. Maybe that’s enough. Sorry you got stuck with the holiday shifts. Was your family okay with it?”

“I don’t mind the overtime,” Cruz said. He flashed Lucky a half-grin. “How was your Christmas? I heard Lulu burned dessert.”

Lucky snorted as he pinned his badge to his shirt. “I’ve never seen food turn to ash that way, to be honest. Christmas was good—it was probably the first time in…” He exhaled slowly, trying to remember. “Actually, it was the first time Nikolas had been invited to our place for Christmas dinner. I just wish Kelsey could have convinced her mom to come up from Buffalo.”

“Maybe next year.”

“Maybe.” Lucky hesitated, then squinted, realizing Cruz hadn’t answered his question about his family. “What’s your usual thing on the holidays? You go to your parents?”

“No,” Cruz said shortly. He closed his locker. “We’re not close, and they don’t live in Port Charles. I gotta go meet Taggert.” He walked out, leaving Lucky alone in the locker room.

General Hospital: Procedure Room

Jason folded his arms and stepped back as a nurse checked Elizabeth’s IV, then her vitals. As part of the angiography, Elizabeth needed to be lightly sedated, and her eyes were already drifting closed.

“Jason—” Monica touched his arm. “She’s out, and we need to get started. Come with me into the room with the tech—”

He grimaced but followed his mother out of the room, looking over his shoulder one more time at Elizabeth on the gurney, her eyes closed, and her face pale. He hated seeing her in the hospital.

He and Monica went into a smaller room with a few techs and monitors. His eyes on the window that looked out into the procedure room, Jason said to his mother, “You wouldn’t tell us why you wanted this procedure. Why?”

Monica hesitated, then looked at him. “I told you—I was concerned—”

“Monica,” Jason said quietly, then took a deep breath. “Mom,” he continued, her eyes flashing to him at that term—something he hadn’t said to her more than a handful of times since the accident. “You never lied to me last summer. You never sugar-coated or gave me false hope.”

He nodded back towards the window where Elizabeth lay motionless, and an X-ray tech began to take the first pictures of her lungs. “You never would have asked her to take an X-ray if it weren’t serious. If it weren’t worth the risk. You know how important the baby is to her. To us.”

Monica cleared her throat, watched the monitor as the first results came in. “A pulmonary angiography is more accurate in finding a possible embolism,” she said, “but the catheter also would let me treat it right away. If it is a clot, I’d like Elizabeth to walk out of here today with it resolved.”

Jason frowned. “But why not—” His throat tightened. “You don’t think it’s a clot.”

“No,” she said softly. “I have some suspicions, Jason, but I don’t want to worry Elizabeth until I have a reason to. And I don’t want to worry you either. I know you can handle it. I know how strong you are.”

Monica exhaled as pictures began to move on the screen—Jason knew it was reflecting the dye that had injected into Elizabeth’s veins via the catheter that had been inserted. “Until I’m sure, until I’ve had time to look at all the test results, I’m not comfortable telling either of you what the possibilities are.”

“You could just tell me—”

“You could never keep it from her,” Monica told him, with a light touch on his arm. “I’ll know within twenty-four hours, Jason.”

He swallowed hard, searched his mother’s eyes, saw that she wasn’t going to be moved on this, then nodded and looked back at Elizabeth. “Can you tell me if it’s serious? If—” Jason almost couldn’t form the words. “If it’s—if I might lose her? Or the baby?”

“We should leave that conversation until we know more. I’m not trying to be cryptic, Jason,” Monica told him. “Or purposefully vague. It’s just—there’s no point in thinking of the worst-case scenarios until we need to.”

“I can’t—” Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, had to force the words out. “Whatever she needs. Whatever treatment, whatever doctors—you know the cost doesn’t matter. Wherever I have to take her, if we can’t handle it here—I just—I can’t—” He couldn’t finish the statement. But his mother seemed to understand what he couldn’t say out loud.

“Let me finish the procedure, Jason. Let me study the results, and I promise you, as soon as I can tell you something definitive, I will.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Hallway

Justus nearly made into his office without running into Sonny. Bernie wasn’t in today to run interference, as he had done since that terrible night, and Jason hadn’t been in very much since Elizabeth’s health had taken a turn for the worse.

Justus had nearly quit then and there, but after talking it over with Tamika, they’d both agreed he should stay on to see how Jason handled it—and because Justus wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something happened to Elizabeth or Carly because he’d left his job. Jason needed someone he could depend on, at least right now, but that didn’t mean Justus was happy about any of this. This was not how this job was supposed to turn out, but he was going to try to make the best of it.

For more than two weeks, he’d managed to avoid Sonny, but as his boss was waiting in front of Justus’s office—it looked like that reprieve was over.

Justus slowed his steps as he approached him. “Uh. Hey, did we have a meeting?”

“No, but we’re going to. Where’s Jason? He wasn’t home when I left, and he’s not picking up his calls,” Sonny said shortly as Justus unlocked the office. Sonny followed him inside.

Not sure if he should be surprised that Jason was keeping Sonny out the loop, Justus sighed, set the briefcase on the desk, then stripped off his jacket. “He had a doctor’s appointment with Elizabeth. Some tests. She needed to be sedated for one of them,” Justus said as Sonny’s scowl deepened, “so he’s not leaving her alone today.” If Jason hadn’t told Sonny about the tests, it wasn’t like he’d passed on the Puerto Rico tip from Johnny either, so he wasn’t going to say anything either.

“Why didn’t I know this? Why does she need to be put to sleep? What’s wrong?” Sonny’s questions were delivered in quick succession, like a round of bullets from a machine gun. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know. To all the above,” Justus added when Sonny opened his mouth again. “Jason didn’t want to get into it. If we need to know, we will. Is there anything else?”

“Yes.” Sonny lifted his chin. “Carly took my kids to the Brownstone almost three weeks ago. She won’t let me see them. Not even on Christmas.”

Justus pressed his lips together, bit back the smart ass remark he’d been about to utter because it certainly wouldn’t help them right now. “Okay.”

“I need you to get me into see them,” Sonny continued, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Carly obviously needs more time to calm down—”

Calm down? Justus turned away from Sonny so he wouldn’t see Justus’s scowling expression. “I can ask Carly if she’d be open to it—”

“I don’t need you to ask—they’re my children. What’s between me and Carly—that’s—” Sonny took a deep breath, and his expression slipped slightly—less controlled. “It’s between us. I should be able to see my kids.”

“Okay,” Justus said. He stepped behind his desk, put his hands on the chair, then looked at Sonny, point-blank. “You want my honest opinion? I mean, you pay me to give you the truth.”

“I do,” Sonny said, suddenly wary.

“If I contacted Carly and asked her to set up a meeting for you to see the kids, she could say no. Then you have two choices — one, accept it. Do what she asked you to do to make it right—I’m sure she’s given you some idea—” Justus waited, and Sonny grimaced, looked away, confirming Justus’s suspicion. “Or two, you can file for custody and demand a court give you visitation. A demand which would be rejected.”

Sonny’s glower was thunderous. “Why?”

“Why?” Justus repeated. He widened his eyes. “Sonny, you locked Carly in a room, then refused to let her out. I heard her screaming myself. You understand there were witnesses—and maybe you think Jason won’t say anything against you—but I’m telling you that Bobbie Spencer will make sure that Elizabeth gets on that stand. And how is that going to go for you?”

Sonny pressed his lips together in a thin, mutinous line. “Not well,” he said in a clipped tone.

“Because Carly’s lawyer will ask Elizabeth if she thinks you’re a danger to the kids—”

“I would never—”

“And all Elizabeth has to do is tell that court that you shoved her when she tried to get your wife free. Then Jason had to break down the door. You are lucky Carly didn’t press charges—that all she did was go to her mother’s and keep the kids away from you.”

Sonny exhaled slowly, but the anger didn’t dissipate. “You’re telling me that Carly can just keep my kids from me, and there’s nothing I can do?”

“There’s plenty you can do,” Justus told him flatly. “You can do whatever Carly told you to do. Or you can find another lawyer because there is no way in hell I am going to demand that woman let you see her children after what you did to her—”

“You’re supposed to be my lawyer—”

“I’m also Jason’s lawyer,” Justus said, “which makes me Elizabeth’s lawyer. I told Jason if it had been my pregnant fiancée you shoved, you’d still be drinking out of a goddamn straw—”

“You have no right to talk to me like this—”

“You pay me to tell you the truth,” Justus cut in sharply. “The truth is that if you think what you did to Carly can somehow be waved away and dismissed without you having to do something to redeem yourself, you’re wrong. No judge in this state is going to give you anything other than a supervised visitation of those boys, if you’re lucky.”

Sonny stared at him for a long moment, then slowly, at his sides, his fists unclenched as he nodded. “All right. You—you’re right. I can—” He cleared his throat. “I can see that a court wouldn’t understand how things—how it built to that point—why I could—what I did was wrong—”

“Not just wrong, Sonny. Monstrous,” Justus corrected. “Carly had a dissociative episode, triggering the acute stress disorder she’d mostly resolved because you forced her to relive her trauma. It’s not just that she was upset about being locked up—she literally thought she was back in that room. Do you know what it was like for me to stand in that room and watch that happen? Do you even remember it?”

“I—” Sonny cleared his throat. “I understand—Thank you.” He met Justus’s eyes. “I appreciate the honesty. I need to do more to fix this.”

He left then, and Justus released his first easy breath in weeks. He didn’t think for one minute that Sonny would be willing to do what it might take to actually fix this, but at least he’d been able to stand up to Sonny and get out of it with his self-respect intact.

Harwin Movie Theater: Concession Stand

“Um—” Lulu folded her arms, scanned the menu. “I’m gonna get popcorn, ooh, and those little Raisinets—”

“The movie is going to start in like five minutes, Lu,” Dillon said, checking his watch. “Can you just order already?”

“Why don’t you go in and get seats?” Lucas suggested, seeing the irritation flare in Lulu’s blue eyes. He didn’t know what was up with Lu and Dillon these days, but it felt like they were constantly fighting. He wished they’d just break up already.

“Because I can’t save six seats on my own, and Lulu is holding up the entire line—”

“I’ll go save seats with you,” Maxie volunteered quickly. “Come on—” She grabbed Dillon’s arm, started to steer him towards the theater.

“God, you’re so frustrating sometimes,” Lulu muttered. “It’s not like you haven’t seen this stupid movie a thousand times. Who cares if you miss the first five minutes?”

Lucas winced as Dillon turned back with an irritated scowl. Lulu was the reason they were running late in the first place after a shift had run over at Kelly’s that morning, and they’d been lucky to get tickets to the matinee at all. It was the last chance they’d have to go to their monthly movie, and it’d been Dillon’s turn. He’d gone for a Joan Crawford movie Lucas had already forgotten the name of.

“Why can’t you ever care about the things that are important to me?” Dillon demanded, yanking his arm away from Maxie. “I told you—”

“It’s a movie, Dillon. It’s not that serious, and it’s not my fault! I told you I needed the tips from today’s shift, and I can’t just hope another waitress will give them to me—I had to wait—” Lulu stabbed a finger at him. “You don’t have to work for anything, so you don’t get it!”

“Oh, here we go—‘I don’t understand money’—” Dillon rolled his eyes. “Your brother is a prince, Lulu—when have you ever wanted anything?”

“Are you serious right now?” Lulu all but screeched. “That’s it! That’s the absolute last thing I’m going to take—”

She spun on her heel and stalked out the door, leaving a crowd of interested parties behind her. Maxie’s face paled as she watched a friend walk away from them at the movies. “Dillon, go stop her—”

“No, I’m tired of her acting like she’s the only one with problems—”

“Dillon, look where we are,” Kyle said quietly, touching his shoulder. Dillon stopped, looked at him, then looked around them.

The same group of people they’d been six months earlier, except it had been Brooke storming off, and Georgie noticing she’d left. It was broad daylight, but—

“I forgot,” Dillon said, almost numbly. He looked at Maxie, with panic in his eyes. “How did I forget? I have to get her—” He started forward, but Lucas put up his hand.

“We’ll go—” Lucas said, grabbing Felix by the elbow. “No offense, not really into Joan Crawford. Go to the movie. I’ll text you when we catch up.”

“I’m sorry,” Dillon said again, but Lucas and Felix were already leaving the theater. When they got to the sidewalk, Lucas scanned the area—then sighed in relief when they spied Lulu sitting sullenly on the iron bench by the theater, her arms wrapped around herself. They walked towards her.

“Hey. Uh, we’ll give you a ride home—” Lucas said.

“I almost ran into the park,” Lulu said. She looked at them, a bit blankly. “The bus stop—I’ve done it a thousand times. I’ve been shopping on this street my whole life, and I’ve taken the bus home from Central Avenue like…I’ve always crossed through the park.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “But I didn’t go in.”

“Good—” Lucas looked at Felix, who took out his phone, started texting Maxie. “We just—we had the same thought.” He sat next to his cousin. “What’s up with you two? You were getting along before—”

“I don’t know,” Lulu said with a sigh. “We just—we’re arguing over everything. He doesn’t get it sometimes—sure, Nikolas is my brother, but it’s not like I have a credit card from him. Last year—you know when my parents were gone—I didn’t—I couldn’t ask your mom for things—”

“I know.” Lucas rubbed her arm. “Hey. Come on, I know.”

“I mean, no, I never starved, but it’s not the same thing. I like buying my own clothes, and like, being sort of on my own with money. I work hard. I hate that stupid job, but I try so hard and—” Lulu cleared her throat. “He’s just been mad lately that I’ve been working more, and he has this stupid idea that I’m, like, into Lucky’s partner.”

Felix lifted his brows. “You mean that fine-ass Italian cop always sitting in your section at Kelly’s?”

Lulu peered up at him with a frown. “What?”

“You’re nineteen, Lu. It’s okay to be into other guys. You’re not married.”

“I’m not—” Lulu’s cheeks flushed. “You’re both stupid, and I’m not talking to either of you anymore.”

“You can not talk to me all you want,” Lucas said as he pulled her to her feet. “As long as you let me and Felix drive you home.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth pursed her lips as Jason set the tray with the soup and cup of herbal tea in front of her. She tried to sit up more on the bed, and Jason helped move the pillows. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Feeding you soup?” Jason’s smile was genuine as he met her eyes. “I’ve been waiting to get you back for years.”

She sighed, reaching for her spoon. “I wish I could eat something else,” she admitted, “but everything hurts, and I think if I put anything else in my stomach, it would not be pretty.” Elizabeth ate a few spoonfuls, then set the utensil down to let herself settle a bit. “How long did Monica say I’d feel like this?”

“A few more hours,” Jason told her. “Your appetite should be back to normal tomorrow.” He crossed to the other side of the bed, then stretched out next to her, sitting up against the headboard and picked up the remote. “You want to find something to watch? A movie?”

“You hate my movies.” Elizabeth peered at him suspiciously. “What did you and your mother talk about while I was asleep? Am I dying?”

“No,” Jason said, bit a shortly. “And that’s not funny.” He grimaced, setting the remote back on the bedspread. “I’m sorry—”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said quickly. “I didn’t—I’m just—this is stupid,” she muttered. She closed her eyes. “I’m just trying to pretend like I had a normal test, and things are fine. But they’re not.”

“I shouldn’t be irritated with you,” Jason said. “And I’m not,” he added. “I just—” He couldn’t get Monica’s face out of his head, this nagging feeling that his mother was just trying to protect him from something devastating.

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth reached over, squeezed his hand. He met her eyes. “I know you’re not mad at me, and you know that I’m not mad at you. Isn’t that the point of marrying someone? So you can be cranky with each other when you wanna be without it being the end of the world?”

“Is that why you’re marrying me?” he asked, with a hesitant smile. “So you can be cranky with someone?”

“I mean, it’s a nice side benefit.” Elizabeth lifted her tea mug to her lips. “But you know I’m marrying you for your money.”

“Oh, right.” He grinned at that, and she snickered. “Guess it’s a good time to tell you about the prenup.”

Elizabeth laughed at that, and he was relieved to see that her eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. “Oh, you are so lucky I’m not actually a gold digger. Justus told me at Christmas he was going to have something for me to sign in a week or two.”

He winced. “I’m sorry—I forgot—”

“Don’t worry.” Elizabeth sat up a bit more. “Justus told me it was for my protection, too. Because a lot of your property and whatnot is all wrapped up with Sonny’s, it would be—he said it would help make things clearer in case we ever need to worry about…” Elizabeth grimaced. “Your estate,” she said quietly. “That if you wrote it down in two places legally, it couldn’t be questioned by the courts or the authorities.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I mean, you get everything, you know that, right? I—” He scratched his forehead. “I have some stuff for Michael, for Emily. I need to update it for Morgan and the baby,” he realized, “but everything else—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to talk about any of this.”

“But we should,” Elizabeth told him. She squeezed his hand. “I asked Justus to put together a will for me, too. I don’t have a lot,” she reminded him, “but my grandparents left me a trust, and I wanted to make sure it can go to my children without any issues. Jason—it’s just—it’s responsible for us to talk about this kind of thing. With my health and your line of work—”

“I know.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “I just don’t want to think about it.”

“Me either. And we won’t. Justus will put together the prenup and my will, we’ll sign it. And that’ll be it. We won’t have to talk about it again.”

“Okay.” He leaned over, kissed her forehead. “Besides. I know why you’re marrying me.”

Elizabeth smirked. “Yeah, for your bike.” He laughed at that—because of course, that was exactly what he’d been about to say.

And if even if they were both still worried about her test results, at least they could forget them for a little while.

This entry is part 17 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

I’m proud of who I am
No more monsters, I can breathe again
And you said that I was done
Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come
‘Cause I can make it on my own, oh
And I don’t need you, I found a strength I’ve never known
I’ll bring thunder, I’ll bring rain, oh
When I’m finished, they won’t even know your name
Praying, Kesha


Monday, December 29, 2003

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason walked out of the bathroom, winding his tie around his neck, and hesitated as he watched Elizabeth carefully sit on the edge of the bed, close her eyes, and exhale slowly, pressing her hand to the curve of her belly.

She’d been resting since her breathing problems on Christmas Day, but he knew she still wasn’t bouncing back the way Kelly and Monica had hoped she would after nearly three weeks of dedicated rest and relaxation.

Instead—things seemed to be worse. The circles under her eyes were darker than they’d been even in the months after the panic room when he knew she hadn’t been sleeping well. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a full breath without thinking about it first.

He was spending a lot of time listening to her breathe, taking her pulse, and he was wondering if he should buy a blood pressure pump to have in the penthouse or an oxygen tank for each room.

“I’m fine.”

Jason blinked, then focused on her, realizing Elizabeth was looking at him, her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Elizabeth—”  He shook his head, then sat next to her. “You don’t have to go today. It’s over. It’s a formality. He’s going to prison today. Ned and Lois will be there. I know some of the other women from your group will be—but you’ve done enough.”

“It will never be enough,” Elizabeth murmured. “I can’t change the past. I can’t stop myself from going down that path, sitting on that bench. I can’t stop myself from taking a shower or not going to the police right away.” She looked at him, their eyes meeting. “It will never be enough. And it will never be over.”

“Hey.” He took her hand, laced his fingers through hers. “He’s not getting out of prison. He can’t come back—”

“Not physically. But he’ll never leave me. Not really.” Elizabeth sighed, then got to her feet to walk over to her closet. “Months will go by, and then something might remind me. I’ll have another nightmare.” She slid her feet into a pair of flat sandals. “I went to Baker’s sentencing. Five years ago. And Lucky told me it was over. That I wouldn’t have to think about him anymore. Not for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Elizabeth winced as she sat at the vanity table. “You want to protect me. You want me to be okay. Right? And yeah, I think I wish I could sit at home today and rest. I’m so tired…” She looked at her face in the mirror, touched the circles. “And maybe it is silly to think I have that kind of power—that if I don’t follow every step of the process, it will somehow fall apart.”

“It’s not.”

“If you—I know things are tense right now. Um, if you need to be at work, I can ask Ned to give me a ride—”

“Bernie and Justus know where I am if they need anything.” Jason met her eyes in the mirror. “Nothing else matters.”

Elizabeth managed a faint smile. “All right. Well, let me finish getting ready so we can get this over with.”

Quartermaine Estate: Front Room

“I don’t see why I can’t go,” Edward said, standing up from the sofa, furrowing his brows. “I want to be there to watch that monster dragged off for the last time—”

“Lois and I talked about it.” Ned put an arm around his ex-wife’s shoulders. “And my being there will make it enough of a press event. Quartermaines start showing up, and it’s back in the national news.”

“It should be—that scum—”

“We’re thinking of Elizabeth,” Lois said quietly. “She’s not feeling well,” she reminded the older man who sighed and looked at his daughter-in-law. “If we can minimize the attention, it will make it easier on her.”

“The local news will be covering it, Edward,” Monica told him. “We can watch it later, but I think Ned and Lois are right. The fewer people who attend, the less of a media circus.”

“I just—” Edward sighed, then sat back down. He looked at Lila’s kind and worried eyes. “I just want to help. Be there.”

“I know, darling.” Lila held out her hand, and Edward took it between his own. “But helping means listening to what your family needs.”

“You’re right. As always.” Edward kissed her hand, looked at his grandson. “If anything goes wrong at this sentencing, I will get the President on the phone in an hour—”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Lois said, but she was smiling now because they both knew if Edward wanted to make trouble for the courts, he could. “But thank you. We just—we want to get through this day.” She looked at Ned. “It’s the last thing we can do for our little girl.”

Brownstone: Kitchen

Bobbie checked her watch, then sighed. “The sentencing starts in less than an hour,” she murmured, setting a cup of coffee in front of Carly. “I still don’t feel right not being there. I took off the entire day—”

“Jason said they were hoping to keep this one a bit quiet,” Carly reminded her. “Sit, Mama. You’ve been on your feet for days between Christmas and work. If we went to the hearing, then you know the Quartermaines would want to be there. They mean well—”

“But everywhere they go, they drag the media. I know. And Elizabeth needs the break. So do Ned and Lois. All of us.” Bobbie sat down, picked up her own coffee, and sipped it. “It’s chilling,” she said. “To think that I rented a room to him. That Ruby ran him a tab. Elizabeth served him for nearly two more years. And we never knew.”

“Monsters like Vinnie Esposito should come with a label,” Carly muttered. “But they don’t. They look like everyone else, and you don’t see the darkness until it’s too late.” She rubbed the side of her head. “I’m seeing Kevin tomorrow. He was able to fit me in.”

“I’m glad. I know you didn’t want to go back into therapy—”

“But I need to. I need to put myself first. And that seems crazy to say.” Carly leaned back in her chair, shaking her head a bit. “I spent my entire life putting myself first—what I wanted, needed—it was always my top priority. God, even after I had Michael—I couldn’t stop. The old me—I don’t think I ever would have stayed. I don’t think I would have gone back in the first place. I don’t know.”

“Carly—”

“I used to think that it meant something—the fact that I could put Sonny first—that I would stop and make sure I was doing what he needed me to do before I thought about myself—when he told me he was faking his death last year—” She tipped her head to the ceiling. “I felt so trusted. Like I’d earned my way back into the circle, and that he valued me. Respected me. How could we fall so far so fast?”

“You made a choice a few months ago,” Bobbie said, “when you and Elizabeth turned down that deal. And Sonny had the choice to respect and support you. Or to disagree and hold it against you. Two people—they can travel down a road quite easily if they agree all the time—but when you come to a crossroads—it’s the choice that defines what happens next.”

“He couldn’t see me.” Carly’s breath was shaky. “And I tried too hard to see him. I think, Mama, that I wasn’t lying when I told him I’m afraid of him. I know there’s darkness in him. I’ve always known that. I knew it before we ever fell in love, you know?”

She twisted her wedding ring. “But his darkness is different. Jason would get so angry at me—I did so much damage to him—tortured and hurt him a thousand ways—and I never felt afraid. Sonny—I never thought he’d hurt me.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Bobbie covered her daughter’s hand. “I’ve been there. Trusting your heart, your soul, and your body to a man that betrays you. Sonny might regret what happened, but until he gets some serious help—”

“I don’t think I could go back even then,” Carly admitted. “I’m starting—I think even if he had gone the day after it happened to a doctor or even admitted he needed help—I don’t know if I could ever forget what happened. Or forgive him. He put me back in that room, Mama. Physically. And mentally. And it kills me because his fear is mine. He can’t stand being locked up, and he did it to me.”

“You make whatever choice is right for you, Carly,” Bobbie told her. “And you think about your kids. They come first. Sonny is going to have to take care of himself for a change.”

Port Charles Courthouse: Courtroom A

Elizabeth sat down next to Lois in the front row, squeezed her hand, then looked around. She exchanged muted glances with Dana Watson and Veronica Logan, two of the survivors from the group who had chosen to come and watch the final step.

The others, including Renee, had considered the hearing and plea agreement the end of everything, and Elizabeth couldn’t blame them. She wanted this nightmare to be over — but as she’d told Jason that morning —

This would never be over. It would always be part of her DNA, part of her story, and somehow, Elizabeth needed to learn to be okay with that. Jason sat next to her, took her hand in his, and offered a faint smile. As long as she had him — she might be able to do it.

Even though she knew he was going to irritated, even angry with her, in a few minutes.

“You managed to convince Edward to stand down?” Elizabeth asked, breaking the silence.

“It was tough,” Ned admitted, putting an arm around Lois’s shoulders. “But Grandmother, as always, stepped in when all hope was lost.”

“No one manages Edward like Lila,” Lois said with a nod. “But he said he was putting the President on speed dial.”

Elizabeth almost laughed at the image of Edward having the White House on standby—but her mirth was smothered when the bailiff stepped forward, called the courtroom to order, and asked the deputies to bring in the defendant.

Taggert and Dante slipped in, sitting in one of the empty rows on the other side of the courtroom. Taggert offered Elizabeth and her group a nod of encouragement.

“All right,” Scott said, twisting slightly in his seat. “This won’t take long. We’re almost at the end.”

Elizabeth nodded, took a deep breath, but didn’t look towards the door that opened. She heard the shuffle of footsteps, the clanking of chains, but didn’t look towards him. She couldn’t do that quite yet.

“I understand that although the prosecution and defense have agreed on a sentencing recommendation, the DA’s office would like the opportunity to have impact statements presented?” the judge asked.

Scott rose to his feet. “Yes, sir, Your Honor. Considering the heinous nature of the crimes committed, the state wanted the victims to have a chance to speak on the record. Not all of the women brutally attacked and raped by the defendant have chosen to speak—”

“Your Honor, my client is only pleading to one such assault,” the defense attorney said, leaping to his feet. “Any others—”

“If your client would like to wait until we go to trial on seven accounts of rape and assault, two counts of attempted murder, and attempted rape—” Scott said pleasantly, “the DA’s office is ready, willing, and able to go to trial. We could start today—”

Elizabeth’s stomach rolled, and she closed her eyes. She was one of the counts of attempted rape and murder—Christ—

“Inhale and count to fifteen,” Jason said softly. She looked at him, then nodded. Better to get ahead of any problems.

“Spare me the histrionics, gentlemen,” the judge said blandly. “Your client may not be pleading to these counts, Mr. Oakley, but you can listen to the victims now or at trial. Choose.”

The defense attorney scowled, then nodded. “All right. We’ll waive any protest.” He sat back down and whispered to his client. Elizabeth refused to look over.

“Present your first statement, Mr. Baldwin.”

Scott turned to Lois, who took a deep breath and walked up to the front. Up until now, Ned had given all the public statements regarding Brooke’s case since he’d been running for election. Lois’s hands were trembling slightly as she set a piece of paper down on the podium.

For the first time, she turned and looked directly at Vinnie, meeting his eyes. “I knew you,” she murmured. “And you knew me. You knew my baby.”

“Ma’am, please address the court,” the judge said, gently. Lois turned away from Vinnie, met the judge’s kind eyes, then nodded.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor. My name is Lois Cerullo. My daughter was Brooke Lynn Ashton. She was nineteen years old when Vincent Esposito grabbed her, threw her to the ground, raped her, then beat her. She’ll never see twenty.” Lois paused, took a deep breath. “The defendant knew my daughter. Grew up with her in Bensonhurst. The defendant is known to me. To my family. He was like one of our own. My daughter would have trusted him.”

She waited a moment, gathered herself. “Brooke could sing like an angel. She could make you feel something just by opening her mouth and letting her heart fall out with her words, with her voice. She was going to change the world—make it better. But Vinnie Esposito broke her. He beat her so badly she needed pain pills, and it was those pain pills she used to block out the horror of what he’d done to her. Those pills took her life.” Lois fisted her hand on the podium, squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’ll never know if she knew it was him. If she remembered him in her final moments. I pray she didn’t. I hope she didn’t leave this world knowing that a man she thought of as family had done this to her—it’s hard enough for me to live in the world with the knowledge of what this has done to my family. To the other women. Because my Brookie—she wasn’t alone.”

Lois looked at Vinnie again. “You did your evil in the dark, but she was your last. And I can hold on to that. Because Brooke was strong enough to give her statement, and the police were able to make that connection to earlier cases. She didn’t know it, but she was part of the fight to stop you. And she did it. You’re done. You’re nothing. I’m going to leave this courtroom, and it will be the last moment I give you. From now on, I’m just going to remember my baby and her voice. My angel in the light while you burn in hell.”

She looked at the judge. “Thank you.”

Lois turned and walked back to her seat, squeezing Ned’s hand as she sat down. Elizabeth raised her brows when Scott called Dante up to the podium. Vinnie’s cousin took a bracing breath, then walked forward.

“My name is Dante Falconieri,” he said in a low voice. “And Vinnie is my cousin. Brooke was my godsister—” His smile was faint. “We take that seriously in Bensonhurst. I never had any siblings, and Aunt Lois was just as likely to whack me upside the head as my own mother was. It was my job to look after Brooke. I didn’t—I didn’t know I had to protect her from my own family.” Dante turned to look at Vinnie, who just lifted his brows. “I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how I missed it. How we all missed it. But I can’t waste any more time on you, Vinnie.”

He faced the judge again. “I’m not one of Vinnie’s victims, but I’m speaking for the Falconieri family, even if they don’t think I got a right to do that anymore. I’m speaking for Brooke because it was my job to take care of her, and I failed her. I failed all those other girls because I didn’t know anyone could be so blind to evil could walking next to you. You throw him in jail, Your Honor, and make sure he doesn’t get out one minute early. We need to do a better job of protecting everyone else.”

Dante shoved away from the podium and stalked out of the courtroom. Lois twisted in her chair, her eyes dark with worry.

Elizabeth winced as Scott turned to look at her. She knew Jason would have argued with her about this — knew he expected one of the other survivors to speak next— but —

There were just some things she had to do.

Scott nodded at her, and Elizabeth tried to release Jason’s hand—but he held fast. “What—” Jason inhaled sharply, and she saw the flash of anger, a flare of hurt in his eyes before his expression went blank.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I have to finish it.”

His mouth tight, Jason loosened his grip, and Elizabeth walked to the podium, keeping her eyes on the judge. If she didn’t look away from him — she would get through this. Inhale, count to fifteen, exhale. Inhale, count to fifteen—

“My name is Elizabeth Webber, and I was Vincent Esposito’s first and last victim.” She met the judge’s eyes. “If you’ve listened to the tape or read the transcript, you know that he thinks I’m his soul mate. I was sixteen the first time he saw me. He took my statement after a shooting. I don’t remember him. I apparently served him often as a regular at Kelly’s. His face, his name — I don’t know him. I never knew him.”

She paused. Inhale. Count to fifteen. Exhale. “But he’s been my nightmare for nearly six years. At first, he raped me every night when I closed my eyes. Eventually, it was less. Days, weeks, and even months would pass, but the nightmares always came back. Even when I thought my attacker was another man, they didn’t stop. Now that I know for sure who attacked me that night in the park—even though I fought him off and stopped him from raping me again — I know that the nightmares will be with me for the rest of my life.”

She looked up from the paper. Elizabeth didn’t need to look at her words. Not anymore. “The purpose of a victim’s impact statement is to prove to the court the damage that’s been done to me because of this crime. I’m supposed to rip open a vein to prove to you that I am damaged by this man, and you—as the judge—are required to take my words into account when you pass sentence.”

Elizabeth inhaled, counted to fifteen, then exhaled. “The damage that has been done to me can’t be undone. It can’t be fixed. It will fade, but it will scar. And I will always know it happened. I will always be the girl who was raped in the park, and I will carry with me the knowledge that other women who looked like me were raped because my rapist wanted to relive his glory—wanted the experience of raping me again.

That’s what I want you to remember, Your Honor, when you sentence the defendant. My attacks are what he’s pleading to, but I am not special. The other women deserve their pain to be known, to be remembered.

“I wasn’t going to speak today. I thought I had said everything I needed to say in Syracuse, at the press conference. But there are women who can’t speak yet, and might never be able to. Someone needs to stand for them. The system refused to. Even now, with this plea deal, the system has decided that it will be easier for all of us if we make a deal. Because to go to trial means to make us rip open wounds that have only begun to heal, and for some of us—we can’t bear to do it again—”

She stopped. Inhaled, counted to fifteen, then exhaled. Elizabeth turned to look at Vinnie Esposito briefly before directing her attention back to her notes, knowing the judge would not let her continue if she spoke directly to him.

“You will not win. My wounds will scar, but that will make me stronger than I was before you tried to break me. You will never have the power to hurt anyone else. I was the start of this terror, and I will be the end of it.”

She looked back at the judge. “It is my understanding that although Vincent Esposito and the DA’s office have reached a sentence recommendation, that it is the court’s discretion whether or not you accept that recommendation. That once the plea has been entered, he cannot withdraw it without showing just cause in writing.”

“Elizabeth,” Scott hissed. Ned straightened in his chair as Jason leaned forward, his eyes narrowed.

“I am asking you, Your Honor,” Elizabeth said, “to remember that I am but one victim. There are six others in Port Charles with DNA matches. Three more in Buffalo whose DNA matched. An ADA nearly died to bring this man to justice. To do what the PCPD couldn’t do for five years. I am asking you and this court not to throw us away. Not to let him win. We deserve more, and I am demanding better.”

And for the last time, Elizabeth looked at her rapist whose face had finally changed—the color had leeched from him as his lawyer looked vaguely sick. At the man who had haunted her dreams and stolen her childhood—

“I might have been the first, but I guarantee you — I am the last woman you will try to break.”

Without another word, without looking back at the judge, Elizabeth returned to her seat. Inhale, count to fifteen, then exhale. She couldn’t meet Jason’s eyes, couldn’t look at anyone. She knew Scott was probably pissed — she knew there was a chance the judge would listen to her, which meant Vinnie could appeal the sentence and there would be a trial—

She knew she might have torpedoed the whole damn thing —

But Elizabeth didn’t care.

“Thank you, Miss Webber, for that statement.” The judge lifted his brow. “You are correct, of course. Once a defendant has entered a plea of guilty, he must show just cause to withdraw it, and a court would have to agree with him.” He smiled thinly at the defense table. “It should be interesting to see if you can find a just cause with the case against you, Mr. Esposito—”

“Your Honor,” the defense attorney said, clearing his throat. “You should not make these decisions based on emotion—”

“On the contrary, I am, as Miss Webber reminded me, required by law to use the victim’s impact statement as part of my determination.” The judge looked at Scott. “Mr. Baldwin.”

“Uh, of course, the DA’s office will respect whatever the court decides,” Scott said weakly. “It’s just a recommendation.”

“It is. Since the defendant is pleading to a count of rape in the third degree, a count of attempted murder in the first degree, and assault in the first degree — it is this court’s determination that the defendant, Vince Esposito, shall be sentenced to two terms of twenty-five to life, to be served consecutively.” He paused. “That’s fifty to life, Mr. Esposito, if you were wondering. And if you make it to fifty years, there are still seven years on the rape count.” The judge banged his gavel. “Court is adjourned.”

“Bullshit—” Vinnie exploded as he sprang out of his seat. He went after his lawyer as deputies dragged him out of the courtroom. “Bullshit! You promised me I’d be out in twenty-five—”

“Will he appeal?” Ned asked as he stood up. “Can he?”

“He could,” Scott said, eying Elizabeth, “but it’s a steep hill to climb. And, uh, I see that Elizabeth gambled on just cause being in her favor.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said softly. “If I’d told you what I wanted to say, you would have told me no.”

“Maybe.” Scott shrugged, picked up his briefcase. “Maybe not. But if anyone has earned the right to flip the tables on this—” He grinned at her. “Well-played, Miss Webber. You should have been a lawyer.”

“But he’s—fifty years.” Lois pressed a fist to her chest, looking at Elizabeth. “He’s—he can’t come back.”

“Fifty-seven years,” Elizabeth corrected. “He’ll be in his seventies by the time he can qualify for parole.” She bit her lip, turned to look at Jason. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?” she asked.

Jason looked at her, then shook his head, and walked out, the doors to the courtroom swinging behind him. Elizabeth stared after him as Taggert crossed over to her.

“What’s crawled up Anger Boy’s ass?” he asked. “You’d think he’d be happy—”

“I didn’t tell him I was speaking today,” Elizabeth admitted. “I guess we’re back to name-calling.”

“How long did you think that truce was going to last?” Taggert shrugged. “You did good, kid. You need a ride?”

“No. He’s not going to leave me stranded here.” At least Elizabeth didn’t think so. She’d really thought this would be the kind of thing where she asked for forgiveness, not permission — but maybe she’d pushed Jason one too many times.

Courthouse: Hallway

Jason sat on the bench outside the courtroom, ignoring the reporters who knew better than to shove a camera or microphone in his face. Heat flooded through his body, and he knew that he had to get himself under control before Elizabeth joined him. It was taking every inch of his famed control to keep his expression blank in front of the reporters.

She hadn’t told him.

She hadn’t warned him that she was doing this—that she was speaking today, that she was going to encourage the judge to throw out the entire sentencing recommendation—

It was supposed to be over today. She was supposed to be out of this done with the stress, done with the worry—

Instead—

The doors opened, and Elizabeth emerged, flanked by Ned and Lois. Lois put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder to keep the reporters from crowding her.

“Mayor, Mayor—”

Ned scowled, but with a glance at Lois and Elizabeth, who kept moving towards the elevator, he nodded. “I am gratified by the decision of the court today,” he told the reporter who shoved a mic in his face. “And humbled by the continuing courage that Elizabeth Webber has shown in facing not only the man who raped her at the age of sixteen but attacked her in her own home less than three months ago. If the PCPD had shown an ounce of her courage at any step in their investigation before my daughter’s attack—” Ned’s voice faltered, and he dipped his head to gather himself.

Jason watched Lois and Elizabeth get on the elevator and then decided to wait for Ned to finish his statement so they could leave together. He didn’t want to be alone with Elizabeth just yet. Not until he could talk himself out of being angry. Out of being hurt that she’d shut him out of this.

“I thank the Major Crimes unit and Lieutenant Taggert for their diligent work, the dogged determination of the district attorney’s office, and for the survivors who stepped forward, particularly Elizabeth. I hope when you report on this story tonight, it’s her words that you remember. That you report. Not mine. All those women deserved better from us. It didn’t have to be like this. She shouldn’t have had to step up over and over again. This case and the injustice done to those women is a stain on the city and the men who led it. Vincent Esposito is just a symptom of the disease. That’s all.”

Ned strode away from the reporters, and Jason followed him, shoving his hands in his pockets. When the elevator doors closed on them, and the reporters were gone, Ned looked at Jason. “Whatever you’re feeling, you have a right to it—”

“Ned—” Jason turned to his cousin. “You don’t know everything—”

“I know that Elizabeth’s health is fragile and that she just opened the door to a trial—it should be over today. Part of me wants it to be. To close the door. To get on with my life.”

Ned pressed the button for the lobby. “But it’s not up to you or me to decide that. Elizabeth has the weight of knowing that scum was raping her over and over again when he attacked those women—and it doesn’t matter that it wasn’t her fault. She’ll take it on anyway. She reminds me of you.”

Jason shook his head. “You don’t know me—”

“Jason Quartermaine decided he was going to save his brother no matter what,” Ned murmured. “He had everything going for him. He was acing medical school, was wildly in love with Keesha, had a family that idolized him—he was a prince among men—”

Jason’s mouth tightened at the reminder of who he had been. “That’s not me—”

“Maybe, maybe not. But Elizabeth could have sat silent today. She could have stayed silent in September and not come forward as a survivor. She could have moved on with her life, with you, the wedding, and the baby. She didn’t, Jason. Jason Quartermaine could have let AJ drive drunk that night and crash the car on his own. He didn’t.”

As the doors opened, Jason saw Elizabeth standing at the security desk next to Lois, her face pale, her eyes tired.

“She didn’t tell you, Jason, and maybe that was wrong, but from where I’m standing — knowing Vinnie Esposito won’t be able to see the light of day until long after I’m dead? It doesn’t feel that way.”

Jason didn’t respond, and Ned let the subject drop. They walked over to Lois and Elizabeth.

“Jason—” Elizabeth began, but he shook his head.

“We’ll talk about it at home,” he told her, glancing around at the reporters who had come down the stairs. “Let’s go.”

Harborview Towers: Hallway

The ride home was quiet, and Elizabeth wasn’t entirely sure how to handle Jason in a mood like this. Their arguments had been few and far between since July—and they’d mostly been about the way she’d handled her health and Jason’s reaction to it.

Should she apologize? Probably, she admitted as the elevator climbed towards the penthouse level. He deserved honesty from her, especially now, but—

The doors opened on the fifteenth floor, and Elizabeth fought to contain her irritation when she saw Sonny waiting. Fantastic. With Jason in an unpredictable mood, this was the last thing they needed.

“Do you need to get on?” Jason asked dully, holding his hand to keep the doors from closing as he and Elizabeth stepped off.

“No, I was waiting for you,” Sonny snapped. “Wally told me when you got back. Where the hell have you been?”

“Wait for me in the living room. I’ll be there in a minute,” Jason told Elizabeth flatly.

Even though she knew she was in the wrong, Elizabeth bristled at what sounded like an order. “I know you’re mad, but—”

“Can’t you ever do anything you’re told the first time?” Sonny retorted. Elizabeth swung her head around, her eyes flashing with irritation. Why did he always have something to say?

“Don’t—” Jason bit out, then took a deep breath. “Elizabeth. Please.”

“Fine.” She walked around the corner, and Cody, already at the door, hurriedly shoved the door open. Jason looked at Sonny, his jaw clenched.

“Don’t ever talk to her like that again. If you can’t pretend to respect her, then don’t even bother talking to her at all,” Jason told him. “Do you need something?”

“You haven’t been in the warehouse in days—and you were off again today—”

“It was Christmas,” Jason said evenly. “And we had the sentencing today for Esposito. If you care.”

“I—” Sonny pressed his lips together. “I forgot that was today—”

“Yeah, a lot of that going on right now,” Jason muttered and stalked away from him.

“I’m not done—”

“Well, I am,” Jason said, then shoved his way into the penthouse and slammed the door behind him. He’d spent the entire drive home trying to talk himself out of being angry with her—had nearly managed it—but then Sonny had reminded Jason of all the things he was trying to balance—

Why couldn’t Elizabeth just give him a break? Just once. He just wanted one thing to go the way it was supposed to, and he had a right to expect the woman who said she loved him to have his back.

Elizabeth was standing at the window by the pool table, her coat already thrown over the back of the desk chair.

Why didn’t you tell me?” Jason demanded. He stripped off his jacket, grabbed hers, and hung them up, the hangers swinging from the force of his movements. “You should have told me you were going to speak today. That you were going to ask the judge to throw out the sentencing recommendation—”

“Because you would have argued with me.” Elizabeth turned to glare at him. “And this wasn’t something I wanted to have to justify wanting to do. You tried to talk me out of going this morning—”

“And I backed down—”

“Only because you thought I wasn’t going to make a statement.” Elizabeth shook her head. “You’re not going to use my health against me, Jason, to stop me from doing what I have to do—”

“What if Vinnie appeals, and we have to go trial?” Jason stalked across the room, his blood boiling. “This was supposed to be over today. He was going away for twenty-five—”

“It’s not enough—” Elizabeth swiped angrily at her tears as they spilled down her cheeks. “It won’t ever be enough. He was making a deal, and it wasn’t—I could live with this plea before that transcript. Before the tape. But only being punished for me and not for the others? He was winning. And I couldn’t let him—”

“What if he goes to trial? What if he gets bail? Elizabeth—you can’t be—” Jason dragged his hands through his hair. “I’m not mad,” he said slowly. “I’m—”

“Yeah, you are. You’re mad. Admit it, Jason. Just—for once—” She jabbed a finger at him. “I’m the reason Ric is alive, and now I’m the reason Vinnie might go to trial instead of rotting in jail starting today—I keep making your life more difficult—”

“It’s—” Jason turned away, put his hands on the sofa, and leaned over, taking a deep breath. He had to stop. Had to think. He was furious—and why? Why? Because Elizabeth had told the truth in her statement?

Because her truth meant this still wasn’t over?

Because it made his life more difficult?

Shame spiraled through him as he accepted that he was angry because what she’d done meant he had to worry about her. He was making this about himself—taking the worst thing that had ever happened to Elizabeth—

He was no better than Sonny lashing out at Carly who just wanted to deal with her trauma on her own terms.

Jason exhaled slowly. “It’s easier to be mad than terrified,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “You’re sick. You know you are. We have these tests tomorrow, and you might have another blood clot, or it might be something else we don’t even know about. And I can’t make that go away.”

“Jason.” He heard her sigh behind him, her steps soft as she approached him. “I don’t expect you, too.”

“I’m supposed to fix things. That’s who I am. What I’m good at. And I can’t—I can’t find Ric. I can’t make you healthy. I can’t make Sonny get his shit together—I can’t do anything. And you just—you just invited more stress into all of this. If this goes to trial, if he wins on appeal, you’ll have to testify—”

“If it makes you feel better—though it probably won’t,” Elizabeth said, quietly, “I did talk to Justus first. I didn’t do this without thinking it through. Scott would likely fight any appeal on the sentence. And he could and would fight to the state courts. I wouldn’t have to testify in a trial for a year or more. And Justus also told me that winning the appeal would be very unlikely. Case law is in the state’s favor. I gambled, Jason. Because I couldn’t stand that he was only being punished for my attacks. Not for any of the others. I had to try one last time.”

She’d done all that—had gone to Justus—and hadn’t told him. Hadn’t brought him into this decision. Because she’d known he’d be upset—because she’d known it would worry him.

“And if I had to testify in a year—well, I’ll be a year closer to being okay. The baby will be here, and whatever is wrong—” She put a hand on his chest, and he finally met her eyes. “You don’t have to fix me, Jason. And it is not your job to fix other people.”

“I—”

“You’re good at it, yeah, but you’re not a superhero, Jason. And sometimes, the rest of us need to make mistakes and fix ourselves. I needed to do this. And I am sorry I didn’t trust you enough to tell you before. I knew you’d make this about my health, and I can’t—I needed to be the one to finish it.”

He leaned his forehead against hers, then exhaled slowly. “You and this baby are everything,” he told her, his voice husky. “If I lose you—either of you—”

Elizabeth leaned up, kissed him, framing his face with her hands. “You won’t. We’ll get through this. And we’ll be stronger for it. I love you.”

“Wishing you were less brave—or less reckless—” Jason added, and she grinned, “would be asking you to be someone you’re not, and I don’t want that. I just—if you could just give me a heads up before you decide to bring down the system again, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll do my best.” She kissed him again. “Now—I’m starving, so—” As she stepped away, and Jason turned towards the takeout menu drawer, her cell phone rang. He went over to the desk, found it in her purse, then hesitated. “It’s Monica.”

“Oh. I guess it’s about tomorrow.” She took the phone from him. “Hey. What’s up?” She listened for a minute, then swallowed hard. “Oh. Okay. I mean—are you sure—no, I guess that makes sense. Um—yeah, no, I get it. Okay. We’ll see you then.”

“What is it?” Jason asked as Elizabeth flipped her phone closed.

“She’s adding a test tomorrow,” Elizabeth said softly. “An x-ray for my chest.”

“An x-ray,” Jason repeated. “But—”

“I know.” She tried to smile. “I guess she thinks it’s worth the risk. Which—” She exhaled slowly. “Kind of scares me.”

“Tell me everything she said.”

This entry is part 16 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

And you asked me what I want this year
And I try to make this kind and clear
Just a chance that maybe we’ll find better days
‘Cause I don’t need boxes wrapped in strings
And designer love and empty things
Just a chance that maybe we’ll find better days
Better Days, Goo Goo Dolls


Thursday, December 25, 2003

Scorpio Home: Living Room

Anna pushed the sleeves of her sweater to her elbows, then placed the last piece of tape on a gift. She glared at Mac. “How did you not want to throw Capelli out the window repeatedly?”

“Eternal mystery,” Mac said with half a smile. He perched on the arm of the sofa, watching her wrap. “How is it that we’re leaving to see the girls in ten minutes, and you’re still wrapping? You used to be more organized than this.”

“Well, I used to have more time,” Anna muttered. She sat back. “I had to wrap and ship things home to Pine Valley as well,” she reminded him. “I may have returned to Port Charles, but I haven’t forgotten my friends and family there.”

“I didn’t think you would have. You talked to David lately?”

“No.” Anna hesitated. “And I don’t expect to. Clean break. Best for us all.” She got to her feet and flashed Mac a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I ought not to complain about Capelli or the job—”

“Anna, my brother might be dead, but you and I will always be family,” Mac told her. “If we pretend that you’re not running the PCPD now and that I’m not currently an unemployed pariah, then what’s the point? I screwed up. Repeatedly. Ned brought you in to clean things up.”

“I just—” Anna lifted her hands. “I understand. You didn’t have a lot to work with. I think, without Floyd, you would have done quite well—”

“Optics. Ned ran on a clean slate promise.” Mac took a deep breath. “Floyd had to go, and after that press conference, so did I. Maybe it’s easier for people to blame it on Floyd. It’s how I’ve slept at night, but at the end of the day, Anna—” He met her dark eyes. “What would you have done?”

“With the Webber case five years ago?”

“Sure. We can go with that.”

“I would have…” Anna hesitated. “A rape kit in evidence, a suspect that confessed to the victim? I would have put a separate detective on her case, aside from the kidnapping and hostage the day Baker was arrested and sent the kit to the lab.”

“And Baker would have been eliminated as a suspect,” Mac said with a nod. “Elizabeth would never have continued to believe he was guilty, no outcry at the trial, and he wouldn’t have been paroled this early on the extortion and kidnapping charges.” He exhaled slowly. “He would have gone to prison for a lot longer. We wouldn’t have made a deal.”

“And Elizabeth Webber might have been haunted for five more years about her attack,” Anna said softly. “Mac, testing that kit — it would have cleared Baker, but you would not have found Vinnie Esposito’s DNA. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the system.”

“No, I know that. And maybe I gave her closure. But it wasn’t real. It wasn’t the truth. And this summer, when Floyd refused to put out the statement, wouldn’t push for the extra funding—” Mac looked away. “I should have done more.”

“That’s the beauty of hindsight, my darling.” Anna kissed his cheek. “We can see all the ways we should have turned left instead of right. But, in the moment, you did your best. The mistake came later. You never should have falsified that lab report.”

“I know. It—I think I could live with the rest of it, except that for that report. And putting that case with solved cases. Elizabeth deserved better than that from me. From the department.”

“I’d like you to also remember that it was under your leadership that Vinnie was caught,” Anna said. She went over to the closet to pull out her jacket. “Your officers. Your Major Crimes squad. If the mistakes belong to you, Mac, then so do the victories. He’s in jail, and he won’t be seeing the light of day for many, many years.”

“Thanks, Anna.” Mac smiled at her. “You ready to go?”

“I am. Let’s go have Christmas with our family.”

Brownstone: Living Room

Christmas had exploded in the small room as a six-year-old boy plowed through the mountain of gifts under the tree like a freight train. Until he opened the gift he’d received from Lucas and Felix.

Michael stared at the controller box in his hands, then blinked at Lucas. “I already have one,” he said slowly. He looked at Jason and Elizabeth sitting on the sofa. “Uncle Jason lets me play at his house.”

“This is for our apartment,” Felix told him with a grin. “You’re always asking Lucas to play games with us, but I don’t play, and he only has the one controller.”

“I—” Michael’s smile broadened. “I can keep it at your apartment? I can come over and play games?”

“Any time I’m home, runt,” Lucas said, ruffling Michael’s hair. “But, uh, I think your other uncle has something for you that goes with it.”

Michael twisted on the floor and crawled over towards Jason with a huge grin. “Yeah? What do I get?”

Jason reached for a large box under the tree and slid it towards his nephew, before sitting next to Elizabeth again, taking her hand in his. Michael started ripping into the paper. “You can still keep your system at my place,” Jason told him as Michael’s eyes grew large at the brand-new Playstation 2. “But you should have one here. Where you live.” He met Carly’s sad eyes as they both took in that statement.

Michael lived here, at the Brownstone, and Carly didn’t think that was going to change.

“Oh, my God—Grammy, Grammy—” Michael was bouncing up and hugging her. “Grammy! I can play here in the living room! And you can watch me!”

“How fun for me,” Bobbie remarked with a grin before glaring at Jason. Elizabeth snickered. “Just you wait until your kid is old enough for me to spoil.”

“Oh—” Elizabeth put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, I can’t wait. This is going to be so much fun. And next year, Morgan will be old enough to open gifts.” She bounced slightly, her grin as big as Michael’s.

“We’re going to need a bigger living room,” Lucas told Carly, who laughed.

Lucas and Felix helped Michael hook up his brand new game system while Carly and Elizabeth bickered about who would get to put Morgan down for his nap.

Jason followed Bobbie to the kitchen, carrying a black trash bag full of wrapping paper. “Thanks,” she said. “Jason—” Bobbie put a hand on his arm before he went back to the living room. “I’m sorry about the other day.”

Jason frowned at her, shaking his head slightly. “What other day? Bobbie—”

“When I went to see Sonny — I shouldn’t have taken the elevator key,” Bobbie admitted. She folded her arms, leaning against the fridge. “But I needed to—I needed to see him away from Carly. And you showed up, and I was so angry—I’m sorry. I know you’re doing your best.”

“You weren’t wrong.” Jason glanced through the double doors that connected the living room to the kitchen and dining area. “Sonny did think I’d forgiven him. I haven’t. And I told Elizabeth that she didn’t have to either.”

“Oh.” Bobbie exhaled. “I thought—”

“It happened so fast—I didn’t even—” Jason stopped, tried to find the right words. “I didn’t have more than a second to process that he’d pushed her before I heard Carly screaming—” He met Bobbie’s eyes. “It was just like that day, Bobbie. In that SUV, trying to get back to the house, hearing something wrong with Elizabeth—she pressed that button—and I could hear Carly screaming—”

Bobbie closed her eyes. “God. That day.”

“Everything else—it just disappeared. And Elizabeth said it was like that for her. She was running—Bobbie, she got there before me, and she’s pregnant—”

Bobbie pressed a fist against her heart. “What are we going to do?” she murmured. “He won’t get help.”

“No.”

“We can’t go on like this. Carly and the boys—they deserve so much more than this. You—you’re starting a family with Elizabeth.” She cleared her throat. “What are we going to do?” she repeated.

“Try to get through it,” Jason said after a moment. “What I always do. He’ll hit bottom, we’ll dig our way out, and maybe things will be quiet for a while.”

“And that’s enough for you?” Bobbie demanded. “Jason—”

“It’s not. But tell me what else am I supposed to do if he refuses to get help?” Jason asked. He raised his brows. “Carly’s out of the situation. I gave Elizabeth’s guards instructions not to let Sonny in when she’s alone. We could move, I guess, but I don’t know if that would make it worse.” He shook his head. “Bobbie, I know you want me to do more, but I don’t know what else can be done.”

“What I want—” Bobbie focused on the tile on the floor, closed her eyes, then took a deep breath before meeting his gaze again. “What I want is for you to fix it,” she admitted. “And that’s not a fair thing to ask of you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jason put an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s just go back and enjoy Christmas, okay?”

“Okay.” Bobbie smiled at him. “I heard a rumor you’re having dinner with the Quartermaines.” When Jason winced, she laughed. “You really are a pushover, Jase. Elizabeth has you wrapped around her little finger.”

“Yeah.” Jason leaned against the door frame separating the two rooms, watched Elizabeth marvel over Michael’s new game. “Carly said you’re going to Luke’s.”

“Yeah, Lulu is supposed to be making dessert,” Bobbie said dryly, “so if you get a breaking news bulletin about Royal Street burning down, you’ll know why.”

Bensonhurst, New York

Falconieri Home: Front Porch

These were the streets of Dante’s childhood, the blocks he’d ruled over as a kid, leading a gang of other kids who thought they were the kings of the world.

He’d always half expected to come home one day, buy a house a few doors down from his grandparents, marry a nice girl from the neighborhood, and raise a couple of kids.

That was probably never going to happen now.

Uncle Frankie had made sure everyone was on their best behavior—other than the dark looks that his aunt gave Dante and his mother when they arrived the night before — but there was a tension in the air. People were polite to his mother, but no one really spoke to him.

He’d come to keep his mother company, but maybe they would have been nicer and warmer to Olivia if Dante had remained behind in Port Charles. Lulu had been wrong — Dante only made things worse by being here.

The door creaked open behind him, and Dante turned, closing his eyes briefly as Marta Falconieri stepped out, her face nearly invisible in the shadows. He said nothing to her — the last time he’d called her grandmother, she’d slapped him.

The slap that had been caught on camera by a local news station and broadcast everywhere. If Dante ever forgot what it had felt like to be hated by a woman he’d worshipped all his life—well, he had a video to bring it back.

“I was surprised you came.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Dante said, slowly. He stepped to the side as Marta came to stand by him. “But I didn’t want Ma to come alone.”

“Very loyal of you.” She turned, one side of her face lit by the moonlight. “If only you could have shown that loyalty to all of your family.”

Dante exhaled slowly. “He didn’t deserve any loyalty,” he said in a quiet voice. “Ma said you believed in his guilt. That you accepted it—”

“You don’t turn on family, Dante. That is the number one rule—that girl—she was enough—you humiliated me—”

“I—” Dante scowled. “I humiliated you? Vinnie raped and beat who knows how many women—including Brooke Lynn! You went to her funeral, Grandma. How can you tell me I’m the humiliation—”

“He was already going to jail—” Marta curled her hand in a fist at her side. “You turned on family,” she repeated flatly. “And you made sure the whole world knew what a monster he was. How am I supposed to hold my head up? We raised that animal—and you made sure that everyone knew—”

“I made sure everyone knew what he was so no one could forget. So that no one could ever let him get away with it,” Dante snapped. “He is the reason Brooke is dead—”

“Pills are the reason that girl is dead. She was weak and took her own—” Marta pressed her lips closed. “You will not cast more sins at his feet. He has more than enough to repent for—”

She’d never get it — never accept it—so Dante shook his head, started to walk back towards the front door—

Then stopped. He turned to look at her. “Were you telling the truth?” he asked her. “That day. When you told me who my father was?”

Marta stared at him, and for the first time, he saw a flicker of shame in her eyes. “I should have said nothing. I promised your mother I would never—”

“So, you were.” Dante nodded, then cleared his throat. “Got it.”

“Dante—”

When he paused, his hand on the door handle, Marta lifted her chin. “You won’t be welcome in my house again. Your mother can come, but not you.”

“What about Vinnie?” Dante demanded. “What if he gets out on parole in twenty-five years— you gonna welcome him back into the fold? You never liked him. He never took care of you. That was me—” He slapped a hand against his chest. “Me! And my mother! We took care of you after Poppy died. Not him. I did the job. I protected the public—”

“Your first loyalty is to family. And your grandfather would be ashamed of you—”

“No, I think he’d be ashamed of you. Don’t worry, Grandma. I won’t darken your door again. Merry Christmas.”

Quartermaine Estate: Terrace

The night was brutally cold, but Jason didn’t notice. For the second time in a month, he’d found himself at a Quartermaine gathering, and he needed a minute to himself. He’d left Elizabeth with Monica, knowing his mother would keep a close eye on her. She seemed to be doing all right, but she was tired so much these days —

“You know, I never asked—”

Jason turned as Ned stepped out onto the terrace, blowing warm air into his cupped hands. “I never asked,” Ned continued, “if you honestly can’t feel cold or if it just doesn’t affect you.”

“I can still freeze to death,” Jason muttered, his mind drifting to the time that he nearly had. That morning in the snow, four years earlier. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “I just don’t feel it.”

Ned nodded, joined him at the railing. “A year ago, I wouldn’t have pictured you here,” he said. “I was surprised when Monica said you were coming.” He tipped his head to the side. “Is it just for Elizabeth? Because she gets along with the family?”

It’d be easy to say yes — Bobbie wasn’t the only one who assumed Jason’s presence at the Quartermaines during the holidays was because of Elizabeth. “Robin got along with the family. I still never came over then.”

“True. So maybe you just don’t think we’re the evil villains anymore.” Ned shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry that we still can’t find Ric, Jason.”

Jason grimaced, then shook his head. “I’m not surprised,” he admitted. “He’s been gone more than a month, and we always figured he’d left the country.”

“I should have seen the signs a long time ago,” Ned murmured. “I was so angry after Kristina died, after Alexis nearly lost her—our—daughter,” he said, “because of Alcazar—it just felt like we were never going to dig out of it. I blamed Sonny. I wanted him to pay for what happened.”

“Ned—”

“I gave Ric money. Support. Helped him get started in town. Not a lot of people know that, but if anyone had—I never would have won the election.” He looked at Jason. “I’m sorry. For my part in creating this mess. For letting him anywhere near Elizabeth. I was so angry—I stopped thinking about her as a person. A person I knew. Who had worked for me—Chloe loved her.” He sighed. “She would have been so angry with me for letting Elizabeth near him.”

“I didn’t do a much better job,” Jason admitted. He flicked his eyes to Ned, before looking back through the double doors where Elizabeth was sitting on the sofa, smiling at Emily and Monica. “I was angry with her for not believing me.” When she refused to believe him about Ric pretending to sleep when Carly when she was drugged— “I let it go.”

And that would haunt him. If he’d tried harder — if he’d been less angry — if he’d been more honest that yeah, he’d been so jealous of her being with anyone else he could hardly see straight — would she have admitted the same?

“Do you think Ric will ever come back?”

Jason hesitated. “I want to say no,” he admitted. “But I also know that he’s got unfinished business here. I think he’s gone for now. If he’d meant to act right away, he would have. He might not come back for months, but he’s out there. And as long as he’s alive, he’s a threat to Elizabeth. He was—” he shook his head. “Obsessed with her. Obsessed with the child she lost.”

“Scott and Taggert told me that they were worried about what would happen if Ric found out she was pregnant again.” Ned rubbed his arms. “He got close enough to hurt her because of me, Jase. I share the blame. I want to make it right. So—whatever I can do.”

“Thanks.” Jason sighed. “But for now, he’s gone. And I don’t want her to think about him anymore. After next week, Esposito will be gone, too.”

“Does Elizabeth plan to make an impact statement at the sentencing?” Ned asked. “Lois is. And I think she said one of the other survivors is going to, but she hadn’t heard about Elizabeth.”

“I don’t think so,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “She testified, and that was enough.”

“More than enough. She fought hard for those girls. For my daughter. I hope she’s done fighting.”

“Me, too,” Jason murmured.

Spencer House: Kitchen

“You know, I should hire people to do this,” Nikolas muttered as he took the dish Lucky handed him and dried it. “Or buy Mom a dishwasher—”

“Oh, calm down, Your Royal Highness,” Lucky told him. “A little manual labor never hurt anyone.” He looked over at Lulu, who was scowling at the oven. “How’s dessert coming?”

“It’s fine,” Lulu retorted.

Nikolas sniffed. “Uh, does that smell fine?”

Lulu pulled open the oven door—and smoke poured out. “Son of a—”

Then a loud, obnoxious beeping sounded throughout the first floor of the Spencer house. Luke shoved open the kitchen door and raised his brows at his youngest child. “So, when you said let you do the pie this year—”

“Oh, do not start with me,” Lulu said, coughing as she waved her hand in front of her mouth. “Go turn that stupid thing off—”

Luke shrugged, turned back towards the living room. “Barbara Jean! You won the pool—”

Lucky snickered as his father’s voice faded with the closing of the door, and Nikolas went over to help his sister with her ruined pie. He switched off the oven. “What did you do?” Nikolas asked as he put on the oven mitts and took out the tray, coughing. He set the tray on the stove, and the trio stared at the nearly black crust.

“I don’t understand,” Lulu said, putting a hand on her hips. “I followed the directions. You know some people have a green thumb with plants? Can you have the opposite for cooking?”

“Well—” Lucky poked the top of the pie, and it crumbled into ashes. “Obviously.”

“Frick. Okay. Okay. I can fix this—”

“Really? Are you into witchcraft now?”

Lulu smacked Nikolas in the arm. “Shut up! No! I can go to Kelly’s. We’ve always got some pies in the fridge for later. I’ll go get that, and, uh, someone else can heat it up.” She jabbed a finger in Lucky’s direction. “Don’t let Aunt Bobbie or anyone leave. I’ll just be a few minutes—ten—at most—”

Their sister dashed out the back door, and Nikolas stared after her. “Uh, does she know she doesn’t have a jacket—”

“Or keys—”

Then Lulu ran back in, ran past them, into the living room, then repeated the route with a jacket and a purse—slamming the back door behind her, the smell of smoke lingering behind her.

“You know, it’s never boring with her.”

Quartermaine Mansion: Family Room

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose as she looked at Jason out on the terrace, talking with Ned. “He’s still out there?”

“Ned’s gonna turn into an icicle,” Lois quipped as she sat next to Elizabeth and reached for the photographs Emily had set on the table. “I know Jason can’t feel the cold—”

“But he can still freeze,” Elizabeth muttered. “So, I’ve been torn between these three,” she told Monica and Lois. “And Emily has been zero help.”

“I like them all,” Emily said with a shrug. “And thank God you decided to stop being a brat about the price. Jason told her to spend whatever she wanted to—” she started to tell Lois.

“But he did not mean thousands of dollars on one dress,” Elizabeth retorted. “It’s a dress—”

“It’s the dress,” Emily pushed. “You plan on marrying anyone else?”

“Emily—” Monica glared at her daughter before looking at Elizabeth. “She’s right, though, that Jason just wants you to be happy—”

“It’s not—” Elizabeth paused, stared down at the photo, sliding her fingers over one of the dresses. “It’s not the money. I know Jason doesn’t care. And I have my trust fund if I was really worried about it. It’s just…it’s stupid,” she muttered.

“But if Audrey were here,” Monica said softly, “she’d want to pay. Because the bride’s family pays for the wedding.”

“I know that’s just a tradition, and it’s not always true—I know that, but I guess—part of me wanted to buy something Gram could have afforded. Because she was so excited when Lucky and I were going to get married—but really supportive when I canceled the wedding. We donated the dress—”

“Let’s see what you have so far,” Lois suggested when Elizabeth stopped talking. “What style were you thinking?”

“All of them,” Emily said dryly. “Short, long, sleeveless, long sleeves—”

“This is pretty,” Monica said, pointing at a dress with short sleeves, ending at the knees. “Have you been to try any of them on?”

“We’re supposed to go after Christmas, but—” Elizabeth sighed and pulled out a fourth photograph that she’d printed from the website. “This dress went online the other day. Brand new.” A gorgeous, jeweled halter neckline with a full tulle skirt — “It’s way out of my price range, but I just—”

Elizabeth shifted, wincing as her throat tightened. Her lungs started to burn. No. Not now. Not today.

“Elizabeth?” Lois murmured, touching her arm. “Are you all right?”

“I—” Elizabeth tried to expand her lungs, but drew in a sharp gasp as her chest seized. “I can’t—”

“Emily, get your brother—Alan!” Monica shot to her feet, rounding the sofa. “The oxygen tank—”

“I’m getting it—” Alan rushed out of the room, calling for Alice or Reginald.

“Water,” Monica told Lois, who hurried to fill one of the glasses from the pitcher at the minibar. She sat down next to Elizabeth, taking her hand in hers and pressing her hand to her wrist. “Elizabeth, look at me—”

She couldn’t catch her breath—her eyes were burning, tears sliding down her cheeks—dimly Elizabeth heard Jason’s voice—felt his weight beside her—

“Monica—”

“Elizabeth, I need you to look at me—” Monica snapped, and Elizabeth turned, found Monica’s eyes. “You’re hyperventilating. You need to slow down your breathing—”

“C-Can’t—” Her brain was fuzzy, and her vision was blurring. “C-can’t—”

“Monica, here’s the oxygen.” Alan shoved the tank at his wife, then set a black doctor’s bag down. Monica handed the mask to Jason, who fit it over Elizabeth’s face.

“Should I call 911?” Emily asked, her voice small, sounding like it was coming from far away. Elizabeth just wanted to close her eyes—felt herself drifting away.

“Elizabeth, don’t you pass out on me—” Monica ordered.

“Elizabeth—” She turned towards Jason’s voice, his worried eyes. “Look at me. Breathe with me. Okay?” He exhaled slowly, then inhaled slowly. “Hold your breath. I’ll count. One, two, three—”

Slowly, with the help of the oxygen and Jason’s counting, Elizabeth was able to get her breathing under control. She felt her lungs relax, and her head started to clear. “What’s—” She looked at Monica, her voice thin and shaky. “I was just sitting here.”

“I know,” Monica said grimly. She smoothed Elizabeth’s hair from her face. “Lois, go make sure Lila and Edward didn’t hear anything. I don’t want them to worry.”

“I—” Lois hesitated. “I just—”

“Come on,” Ned murmured to his ex-wife quietly. “Let’s go check on my grandparents. Make sure they’re still with my mother and Dillon in the parlor.”

“Okay.” Lois took a deep breath. She focused on Ned’s face. “Okay.”

“Do you want me to call the hospital?” Alan asked Monica quietly. “Get a room set up?”

“Not yet,” Monica said with a shake of her head. “Let’s just—” She pressed her fingers to Elizabeth’s wrists. “Let’s just concentrate on your breathing.”

Alan walked around the sofa, put an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. Emily turned into his embrace, her own heart racing.

“Monica, why would she start having trouble like this without—without stress?” Jason asked roughly as Elizabeth slumped into his side, exhausted from the episode. “She was tired today, but fine—”

“How long did you feel short of breath?” Monica asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Alan, I need my blood pressure pump—”

Alan hurried to hand it to her, and Monica started to fit the cuff over Elizabeth’s elbow. “It was a quick progression from crisis to hyperventilation,” he noted. “Is that common?”

“It didn’t—” Elizabeth winced as the blood pressure pump expanded on her upper arm. “It didn’t used to be. It was—it was so fast. I barely realized it before I really couldn’t breathe at all—”

“Monica—”

“Jason,” Monica cut him off, “let me get this blood pressure reading and we’ll talk—”

“I’ve been resting, I promise,” Elizabeth stressed, hating how thin and weak her voice sounded to her ears. “Ever since our appointment—”

“I know, darling, I know—” Monica sighed as she looked at the reading. “All right. Still in the normal range. Still in the higher end,” she added, “but normal. I don’t think we need to take you in tonight.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “But something is wrong.”

“Mom?” Emily said softly when Monica said nothing. “Is something wrong—”

“I still want to do the echocardiogram,” she told Jason and Elizabeth. “But I think I’ll be adding a few other tests. We’ll get to the bottom of it. You have oxygen at the penthouse?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we still have the portable. I got one for upstairs in the bedroom,” Jason said, “and we keep one in the living room.”

“Take this one with you for the car,” Monica said. “I’ll call you when the tests are set up. Try to rest and relax,” she told Elizabeth. “But if this happens again—oxygen on and go straight to the hospital. Got it?”

“Got it.” Jason frowned, looking around at the printouts on the table. “Uh, can I get some help putting her things together?”

Emily rushed forward, shoving the dress photos out of his sight. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get Dillon and Ned. Dad?” She gathered photos and printouts into her hands, folding them so Jason couldn’t see them. She left the room, followed by Alan.

“They gave us a lot for—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “For the baby,” she told Jason.

“I probably should have waited until the baby shower,” Monica admitted with a forced smile. “But I was worried I’d overdo it.”

Jason eyed the stack of gifts in the corner. “And that’s not overdoing it?”

Monica lifted her chin. “Audrey’s not here, so I’m representing the Hardy family. After all, if Steve and Audrey hadn’t sponsored that program, I wouldn’t have come to Port Charles.” She winced. “Or your father.”

“I always forget—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I’m so tired,” she murmured. “I wasn’t tired before—”

“Is it okay for her—” Jason paused, gathering himself. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth murmured.

“Her vitals are stable,” Monica assured him. “It’s all right. She’s exhausted and needs to rest. Call me if you need me, and I’ll come by tomorrow to check on her again.” She got to her feet. “Let me get her coat, and you can take her out to the car.”

“Jason…”

Jason sighed, then looked down, focused on her face. “Hey,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles over her cheek. “Rest. We’ll be home soon.”

Gatehouse: Living Room

Ned unlocked the door, then stepped inside to let Lois walk past him, her arms still tightly folded across her chest. “You heard Monica—Elizabeth is all right—”

“I just—” Lois took a deep breath. “I keep thinking about that day I went to see her, and she fell apart in her bedroom. She didn’t want to testify.”

“I know—”

“And she did it anyway. She did that so that this could be over for all of us.” Lois bit at the nail on her thumb. “She did it for Brooke. So that the tape could be admitted, and that judge—the world—could hear what a monster he was—what he did to our baby.”

“She’s in good hands with Monica,” Ned assured her. He walked over and put his hands on her shoulder. “Monica is one of the best cardiopulmonologists in the state, and Jason will do whatever it takes to take care of her.”

“I know.” She cleared her throat. “And I know she’s not—I know she’s not my daughter. I can see what you’re thinking, Ned. And maybe—maybe it’s just—” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I couldn’t protect Brooke. I couldn’t make her pain go away. I caused her pain by sending her here, by never listening to her—”

“Baby—hey—Brooke knew you and I loved her. She was coming around—she’d started to understand what we wanted for her by going to college—” Ned kissed her forehead. “But I get it. Elizabeth is only a few years older. You need somewhere to put that overprotective mama bear energy.”

“Watching her struggle to breathe—knowing she was having those issues the day she testified—I just feel responsible. Like I should have been able to stop it. To protect her. To protect Brooke. And I can’t go back. We can’t fix it. I don’t know why I have to keep learning that—”

“Because every day I wake up,” Ned said roughly, “I remember all over again that she’s gone. And for a moment, I think it’s a dream. A nightmare. But it’s not. It’s real.” He folded her into his embrace, and after a minute, she slid her arms around his waist.

“Does it ever stop?” she asked dully. “I just want it to be over.”

“I know, baby,” Ned murmured. He laid his cheek on her head, closing his eyes, rocking Lois as she continued to cry. But he didn’t think it would ever be over. If he would ever wake up without having to remind himself every day that his little girl was gone.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

By the time Jason carried Elizabeth through their front door, she was feeling a lot better and more alert.

“Let’s sit down here for a little while—” she said as Jason turned towards the stairs. He hesitated. “Jason—I’ll wear the oxygen mask if you want. And you can take my pulse every five minutes.”

He winced, then set her down on her feet. “I know. I’m doing it again,” Jason said with a sigh. He unbuttoned her coat. “I know it drives you crazy when I hover.”

“It does,” Elizabeth admitted. She shed the coat, then handed it to him. “But I know I push myself sometimes, and that drives you crazy, so…” She went over to the tree they’d decorated the week before and found the last gift she’d kept underneath. “I can live with it if you can.”

“Sometimes?” Jason said dryly. He watched her carefully as she sat down. “Constantly.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Coming from the original reckless bad boy who won’t hear a helmet—” Elizabeth lightly rapped her knuckles against his temple. “But makes me wear one—”

“We’re not starting that again—”

“I like your face just the way it is—” Elizabeth glared at the package he’d pulled from under the sofa. “What is that? We said no Christmas presents—”

Jason gestured at what she was holding in her hand. “What’s that?”

“Listen, this—” She pursed her lips. “This isn’t a Christmas present. I just didn’t want to wait for the wedding—” She huffed as his smile broadened. “I love when you do that,” Elizabeth murmured. She leaned forward, kissed the corner of his mouth. “You should smile more.”

“I do—around you.”

“Oh—” Her cheeks flushed as she shoved the package at him. “Here. You first—”

“No—” Jason shook his head, handed her the gift. “You.”

“Why—” But curiosity won over her need to annoy and bug Jason, so Elizabeth ripped into the wrapping paper, frowning as she looked at the paperwork underneath. “This is—”

“It’s an application. For next fall at PCU,” Jason told her. “Gail said the deadlines for admission were at the end of February.” He tipped his head. “Did you change your mind?”

“No. No, I guess—I just lost track of it for a while. With the hearing and resting—” Elizabeth looked at him. “You really think I should do it—”

“If it’s what you want. I watched you on that stand a few weeks ago—” Jason set the application side, took her hands in his, then focused on her. “And I know how hard that was. I remembered you sitting upstairs, telling me you couldn’t do it.”

“I really wasn’t going to. I thought I couldn’t do it. That I couldn’t face him—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “And you would have let me do that. Let me hide. Let me run away.”

“I would have, but I knew you wouldn’t. Because, even when it would make my life easier—” Jason tucked her hair behind her ear, “you don’t run away. You don’t hide. I saw the other women—the other survivors—and they were looking to you. You gave them that, Elizabeth. And you stood up for them. For yourself. I think you can do anything. Whatever you need to make this happen,” he said, tapping the application, “I’ll get it for you.”

She leaned forward, kissed him, framing his face with her hands. “I did all of that because I knew you’d be there. I watched you, and I knew I could get through anything. I can help other people because of you. And—” Elizabeth leaned her forehead against his. “I want to do more. Help other girls like me. Other men, too.”

“Then, we’ll fill out the application and make it happen.” Jason kissed her again, spearing his hands through her hair, tilting her head back.

“Wait, wait—” Elizabeth laughed as she pulled back. “You have to open yours—” She reached over for his gift.

“Okay—” Jason stripped off the wrapping, frowning slightly at the manila envelope. He opened it, sliding out two— “Plane tickets?”

“Open-ended because with the baby and me not feeling great — we’re not going to be able to travel for a while, but I was thinking…” Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip. “Maybe this summer. We could take the baby. Before—” She laughed. “Before I start school.”

“Italy,” Jason murmured, looking at the itinerary. “Venice.”

“Yeah. Um, I paid for them myself,” Elizabeth told him. “Because I really—I wanted this to be—” When Jason frowned at her, she sighed. “I know you don’t care about that stuff or money, but I wanted to give you something. I know I’m not feeling so hot right now, and we’re—we’re trying hard not to be worried about these tests Monica wants, but I know we’re both going to do whatever she tells us, so our son is safe. Having a baby—with you—that’s my dream. And I know Italy was more my dream—” She wrinkled her nose. “This isn’t coming out the way I planned it—wait. We can go somewhere else—you pick—”

Jason put two fingers over her lips. “I would have stopped you sooner,” he told her, “but I like it when you ramble.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, then punched him in the shoulder. “Ugh, you’re so annoying. Do you like the tickets or not?”

“Yeah.” Jason cupped her chin, then kissed her again. “I like the tickets,” he murmured.

This entry is part 15 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

Tell me you don’t wanna leave
‘Cause if change is what you need
You can change right next to me
When you’re high, I’ll take the lows
You can ebb and I can flow
We’ll take it slow
And grow as we go
Grow We Go, Ben Platt


Friday, December 19, 2003

Kelly’s: Diner

“Ma, the last place I want to be is Bensonhurst for Christmas,” Dante snapped into his phone, putting up a finger at Lulu to ask for another minute before she took his order.

Lulu pursed her lips, shrugged, then wandered over to check on her other tables. By the time she came back, Dante had hung up the phone and was glaring at the menu. “The usual?” she asked.

“No. I don’t want a burger tonight—” Dante took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you.”

“Used to it.” Lulu poured some water into his glass. “Besides, I just found out I passed all my finals—including math—so nothing can ruin my mood.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except now, I need to take algebra, which sucks.”

Dante set the menu aside. “What about chili?”

“You’re feeling adventurous tonight,” Lulu said, scribbling it on the order pad and then turned it over to the kitchen. “Uh, not that I meant to eavesdrop—but your mom wanted you to go to Bensonhurst for Christmas?”

“I told her no,” Dante said. He nodded at her. “What are you doing for Christmas? You, and uh, Dillon have anything planned?”

“No, I’m working basically every day, and he’s working on the script for a contest in his department.” Lulu picked up the coffee pot. “Be right back.”

He reached for a newspaper someone left on the counter, then winced, realizing it was the Sun. The cover story was about Sonny—no surprise there. This paper was nothing but tabloid trash—

“You’d think they’d find something else to worry about,” Lulu said as she passed by him with a plate. “I think it’s good that Carly left him.”

Dante scowled but waited for her to come back to the counter. “Why?”

“Well, things were fine between them before she got kidnapped, but my Aunt Bobbie says Sonny has been a giant tool ever since she came home. It’s complicated,” Lulu said. “But basically, no one in my family is all that sad about this.” She picked up the paper. “And you know you can’t trust the Sun anyway. Look at what they did to Elizabeth last summer.”

“You know Sonny Corinthos well?” Dante asked. “Your brother said he was a family friend.”

“More when I was a kid.” Lulu went to get his dinner order and set it down. “Lucky was tight with my Dad, and Dad and Sonny were besties for a while. Mom did not like him, but Lucky thought he was a good guy.” She pursed her lips. “At least until Sonny lost his wife. Dad always said something in Sonny just broke when Lily died. I mean, she wasn’t the love of his life or anything, but she was pregnant. And the bomb was meant for him.”

“I guess that would be hard for anyone,” Dante said quietly.

“Why all the interest in Sonny, anyway? Are you just trying to avoid me asking why you won’t go home with your mother for Christmas?” Lulu asked.

Dante smiled weakly. “Got me,” he lied. “My grandmother apologized for—” He rubbed his face. “And I know Ma says she believes Vinnie’s guilty—that’s the same thing as forgiving me for testifying. You don’t snitch on family. Number one rule.”

Lulu rolled her eyes. “Well, you should be able to snitch if they’re monsters. So your mother is going alone? Sucks for her.” She sighed. “Back to work. I hate the dinner rush.”

Dante watched her go, then looked down at his phone with a sigh. It would suck for his ma to be all by herself in Bensonhurst for the holidays.

Damn it.

The Cellar: Main Club

Carly frowned and shook her head. “No, Jen, I think we might want to think more silver and greens. Less gold—” She stepped back from the decorations over the bar and tilted her head. “Yeah, definitely. The gold looks garish in the lighting after a while—”

Her assistant manager shrugged and made a note. “All right, Mrs. C. I’ll go put the note in. We’ll get this place ready for Christmas Eve.”

“Thanks, Jen—” Carly broke off abruptly as Sonny stepped off the bottom stair, passing Jenny as she went upstairs. She cleared her throat, then went behind the bar to get a glass of water from the cooler. “We’re not open yet.”

“No, I know—”

“What do you want, Sonny?”

“I thought we could talk alone—your mother is always right there—” Sonny stopped just before the bar as Carly took a step back. “Carly, what do you think I’m going to do to you?” he demanded. “I told you I was sorry—”

“Is that what Deke said to your mother?” Carly said coolly. She watched his eyes flicker, then shut down. “He said he was sorry, right? And she believed him.”

Don’t compare me to my stepfather,” Sonny snapped. “I’m nothing like him—”

“No. Not yet.” Carefully, Carly took a drink of her water, then set it on the bar. “But I think you can see why I can’t trust that. I asked you to get help. To talk to someone. Have you?”

“No—but I don’t have to do that. I’m fine now. I know that I need to relax about Ric, and I’m doing that—”

“You’re doing that because I’m not giving you a choice. I left. I’m not under your control anymore.” Carly stepped out from behind the bar, still keeping at least five feet between them. “So if that’s everything—”

“I want to see the boys for Christmas. They can stay at the penthouse for a few days,” Sonny added, and his scowl deepened when Carly shook her head. “Damn it, Carly, they’re my kids, too—”

“I don’t trust you,” Carly said. “I don’t trust you to be alone with the boys. Morgan’s too young, and I don’t think you’d let Michael leave again without being forced. So, no. You can come to the Brownstone on Christmas Day or the day after. As long as Jason comes with you.”

“I don’t need a damn babysitter—” Even as Sonny took a step forward, Carly stepped back. His face drained of color. “Carly—”

“I told you, Sonny. I don’t trust you. Not anymore. Not without help. Because this is what you do. You keep yourself together for a while, and then something goes wrong—and you can’t handle it. And it happens all over again. It’s getting worse. Last summer, you hallucinated. A week ago, you shoved a pregnant woman and locked me in our bedroom—what’s next, Sonny?”

Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated in a quiet voice. “This isn’t what I wanted, and I tried—I tried over and over again to be what you needed. I gave you everything, and you gave me nothing. You just—you put me through hell. You put me back in that room, and you don’t seem to understand—”

“I do—Carly, I understand, I just—I want us to get past this—”

“Then get help. Real help,” Carly retorted. “Not Jason, not me. And not drinking. Get some real help. And maybe we can talk. Until then—I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Carly—”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops,” Carly said. “It’s the dinner rush. I’m sure there’s at least one cop upstairs. I don’t want to be around you, Sonny. Not by myself. Not until you do what I asked.”

Sonny glared at her another minute, then stalked away. Carly exhaled slowly, then went back to work.

PCPD: Squad Room

Taggert scowled and stalked over to Capelli’s desk, slapping down a memo. “What is this?’

Capelli sat up, dropping his feet from the desk to the floor, frowning at the piece of paper. “Uh, it looks like the list of warrants I asked for from the judge. Why do you have it?” he demanded.

“Because they all got kicked back, and as the ranking officer—”

“You’re not my ranking officer—” Capelli shoved himself to his feet, lifting his chin. “You couldn’t hack it here—”

“I still outrank you, Capelli. The judge kicked all three of these back for shitty evidence—” Taggert picked up the memo and slapped it against Capelli’s chest. “What if one of them had gotten through?”

“Uh—” Capelli squinted. “I would have raided the goddamn club, and we’d finally be able to arrest Corinthos and Morgan,” he retorted. “I know they’re your new best friends—”

“You don’t have the evidence for these raids, asshole! You keep pushing for warrants like this, and one of them gets through on this bullshit evidence, Justus Ward will file that harassment suit he’s been threatening for months!”

“Let him—” Capelli pushed Taggert back. “I don’t give a shit—”

“You will when you get the department back in the papers! We’re just digging out from your bullshit last summer—” Taggert jabbed a finger hard in Capelli’s chest. “You keep pushing for these warrants, I’ll tell Anna to reassign you—”

“Fuck you, Taggert! Why don’t you go kiss some more ass and get another fucking shiny promotion you didn’t earn! You didn’t solve the Lansing case either! You’re just pissed because I shook that case loose!”

“Shook it—you got an innocent woman thrown across her living room—”

“What on Earth is going on here?” Anna demanded coldly as she pushed between the two of them. She sent Taggert a hot look before glaring at Capelli. “Why are two of my ranking officers screaming at each other like kindergarteners?”

“Ask this dick!” Capelli retorted. “He’s the one jumping down my throat—”

“He’s pushing for warrants that he can’t prove—the department is going to get sued—”

Anna scowled at Taggert, and he closed his mouth. She looked at Capelli. “Explain,” she said, her tone clipped.

“He’s just pissed because I might finally get Corinthos and Morgan—”

“Tell me about the warrants, Detective,” Anna cut in, her voice slicing through Capelli’s bluster like a knife. “Did you apply for warrants without solid evidence?”

“It would have been solid enough for some judges,” Capelli muttered. “We got a few informants—”

“For some judges? That’s not good enough, Detective. When we turn over cases to the DA’s office, they need to be rock solid. Unimpeachable. I don’t want anything a defense attorney can rip to shreds in preliminary hearings.” She narrowed her eyes. “How many warrants have you wasted the court’s time with?”

Capelli scowled. “This time it was three—”

“And last month it was six—” Taggert snarled.

“Nine warrants in less than two months that have been rejected?’ Anna pursed her lips. “You’ll be putting your warrants through me—’”

“Fuck this—”

“If you don’t like that, then perhaps I should simply write you up for negligence and recommend you for retraining,” she said coolly. “Pick your poison, Detective. Either way, I’ll expect your next warrant request on my desk. Otherwise, it’s a thirty-day rip—and you can’t afford another one before next July.”

Capelli scowled, but Anna’s arched brow dared him to say anything else. He growled, picked up a file, tossed Taggert a nasty look, then stalked away.

“Thanks—”

“And you,” Anna said, turning to face him. “My office. Now.”

Taggert grimaced but followed the commissioner down the hall and into her office. “Look, I’m sorry—”

“If you have a problem with a fellow officer’s work, then you bring that concern to me. I won’t have any more problems slipping through the cracks, Lieutenant.” Anna stood behind her desk, folded her arms. “I am aware that the Organized Crime Unit is quite badly run. To be honest, it wasn’t much better when you were in charge.”

Taggert winced. “It’s complicated—”

“Sonny Corinthos and Jason Morgan are relatively sophisticated criminals who rarely take a wrong step. I understand that must have been frustrating. But you—and Capelli—both made the same mistake. You focused on the kingpins. You should have chipped away at the organization from the edges.” She took a seat. “It’s how we took down Frank Smith, Victor Jerome, and nearly every other criminal when I worked here—”

“With all due respect, Anna, Corinthos and Morgan aren’t like anyone you knew before—”

“You’d be surprised.” She picked up a pen, tapped it against the blotter. “Was it really the department you were protecting out there?”

“Of course,” Taggert replied, frowning. “We can’t afford any more bad press—”

“I am aware that the department has had a close working relationship with Elizabeth Webber over the last six months. Which meant a certain amount of contact with Jason Morgan. Are you sure that’s not clouding your judgment?”

“Are you suggesting I’m not a good cop?”

“No. I’m suggesting that your affection for Elizabeth Webber might be a hindrance. I looked over the Esposito case. You waited to interview her last, but it was her interview that allowed you to determine she was the first victim. You could have known that two months earlier—”

“With all due respect, Anna, if I had asked Elizabeth to give me a statement about her rape in July, Justus Ward would have shut us down. And I don’t think she was capable of it. You weren’t here then.” Taggert folded his arms. “She was barely out of the hospital before Brooke Lynn Ashton swallowed a fistful of pills, and from what I heard—still having panic attacks of her own. She had to go into therapy. She could not emotionally have given us the statement we got in September if I’d gone to her in July.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so. There was nothing in the profile that indicated the rapist was targeting specific women — he had a physical and geographical profile — and other than Brooke and Elizabeth, no prior relationship or knowledge. I had no reason to think she was anything other than a random victim. And until her kit came back, I didn’t think I had enough to move forward with her case legally.”

Anna leaned back in her chair, tipping her head to the side. “Very good.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve read some of the newspaper coverage — the suggestions that Elizabeth had special treatment from the department to avoid a lawsuit for Capelli’s actions—” Anna picked up her reading glasses, slid them on. “And Capelli himself mentioned them when he recently petitioned to have the suspension expunged, claiming that his actions had been sanctioned by the commissioner and resulted in investigative leads—”

“Bullshit—the only thing it did was get Ric Lansing arrested so that Elizabeth could find the panic room. The PCPD had zero to do with finding Carly Corinthos in July. And we could have lost our star witness—” Taggert growled as the rest of her statement sank in. “He’s trying to have the suspension lifted?”

“Trying. He won’t succeed.” Anna removed her reading glasses. “I might not have waited until the results came back. But you’re right, I wasn’t here. And if I had been—if I had felt responsible for the physical condition she was in—I might have made the same choices. Which is precisely what I’ll say to the board if it comes to that.”

Taggert exhaled slowly. “I made mistakes with her original case, Anna. Not like Mac did—but I made mistakes. And then I didn’t do more when Carly went missing. Elizabeth nearly died. I couldn’t see dragging any of this up for her if we couldn’t go forward. Without a DNA match, no DA would have ever taken that case.”

“Capelli is not a great cop,” Anna said after a moment. “He’s passable, at best. He suffers from tunnel vision. Now, either he’ll improve or he won’t. But that’s for me to deal with. Not you. No more fights in my squad room. Is that understood?”

“Understood.” Taggert went to the doorway, then looked back. “I left Organized Crime because I wasn’t much better than Capelli. The Lansing case — it made me realize I’d forgotten why I was doing this job. So, yeah, I got an affection for Elizabeth. And for Carly. They gave me back my perspective. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to keep doing this.”

Kelly’s: Parking Lot

“We could just get take out,” Jason reminded Elizabeth as she stepped out of the SUV. He held her hand to help her navigate over the small spots of ice. “You could stay in the car—”

“I’ve barely been out of the house since our appointment,” Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve done everything Kelly and Monica told me to do. I’m resting. I haven’t needed my oxygen tank—”

He turned to her, and she could still see his brow raised in the dim lighting of the courtyard. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Okay, so yeah, I’m still having trouble taking a full breath,” she muttered. “But it’s probably just a side effect—and I’m supposed to be tired all the time—”

“I know—”

“And some exercise and fresh air is good for me—”

“All right, all right—” Jason shook his head but smiled at her. “I just—I just want you to be okay.” He smoothed a thumb over her cheekbone. “But you’re right, and we’re already here—”

Elizabeth beamed at him. “Great. Because I want some chili—and a huge plate of fries—” She turned away from him and started towards the door, stopping with some surprise as a familiar figure stepped out of the diner. “Oh—”

“Robin.” Jason blinked, then cleared his throat. “I—I didn’t know you were in town.”

Robin smiled briefly at them, letting the door swing closed behind her. She raised her brown paper bag. “Had to get some chili. I’m here for Christmas. Mom’s based out of PC now, so—” She shrugged. “You look good, Jase. It’s been a while.”

“Uh, yeah—” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. It had been almost four years since he’d told Robin he never wanted to see her face again, and she’d left town. “You—you remember Elizabeth?”

“I do. Hey. Mac said you guys were together now.” Robin smiled at her with genuine warmth. “We didn’t know each other well when I lived here, but I remember you.”

“How’s Paris?” Elizabeth asked. “Are you still working there?”

“For another year. I’m almost done my residency—finally.” Robin hesitated. “Do you mind, Elizabeth, if Jason and I—could we have a minute?”

“Oh. Sure.” Elizabeth smiled at him.

“Wait—”

“I’m fine,” she stressed to him. She kissed his cheek. “There’s probably like ten people inside that I know, and I’ll go ahead and order dinner. I’ll get your usual. It was nice seeing you, Robin.”

Jason frowned as she walked past Robin, the bell jangling over the door. He looked at Robin, squinting. “What did you need?”

“I just—I don’t want it to be awkward like this.” Robin took a step towards him. “I mean, we’ve both moved on, right? Mac told me you and Elizabeth are having a baby. I’m—” Her dark eyes searched his. “I’m excited for you. Really. I know how much you loved Michael. And Elizabeth—she seems nice. You look happy.”

“I am.” Jason exhaled, then nodded. “You look happy, too. And I’m glad you like Paris. You always did.”

“Alan asked me about coming to GH after my residency,” Robin told him. “And I’d like to come home. I missed so much time with my mother—I don’t want to miss more. So—we’re good?” she asked.

“We’re good. You—we both made mistakes back then,” Jason continued. “Most of them were mine.”

“I could have handled things better,” Robin admitted. “But I was young. And stupid. I’m glad it worked out, Jase. For both of us. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

He watched her leave the courtyard, heading towards the parking lot, then went into the diner where Elizabeth had taken a back table, smiling and talking to Dillon at the counter.

He hung his jacket up, then joined her at the table. “Hey. Did you order?”

“I did.” Elizabeth picked up her water, focused on him. “How’s Robin?”

“Good. She just—” Jason shrugged a shoulder. “Wanted to clear the air. She’s probably going to work at GH after her residency, and we left things on a…” He hesitated. “I told her I never wanted to see her face again.”

Elizabeth raised her brows, then nodded. “Well, yeah, I guess I get that—she did blow things up with Michael on her way out of town. Emily was horrified by it, but I was incredibly entertained.” She smirked as Jason scowled. “She did what a lot of us dream about doing — blowing up the life of someone who hurt us, especially an ex-boyfriend.” She shrugged. “We were both on Robin’s side.”

Jason frowned, surprised by that. “My sister and you—” He couldn’t quite process it.

“Jason.” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “You asked Robin to let the entire town think you cheated on her with Carly, and then you let Carly move in with you guys when she got home. You broke up with Robin like five minutes later. I mean, look, my opinion of Carly is different now, but Emily hated Carly. Still probably does. And…” she shrugged. “I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing Robin did.”

Jason sat back, a bit taken aback by that. “I—”

“What, are you going to tell me you were fair to Robin that whole year?” Elizabeth arched a slim brow. “That you don’t understand why she popped off that way? Like I said, she lived every woman’s dream. You dumped her, and she gave you the finger on her way out.”

Jason shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It wasn’t—” He grimaced. “I made mistakes,” he muttered.

“I know losing Michael hurt. Especially the way you lost him,” Elizabeth added, softening her voice. “And I got to see that side of you later. I’m just saying—when it first happened, I definitely didn’t think that well of you. I know you better now.”

“I know I should regret it—but I’m not sorry for that year with Michael,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “I’m just sorry I hurt Robin. I’d change that if I could.”

“Well, then I’m glad she’s thinking of moving back. The hospital will be lucky to have her, and I know you guys were close once.” Elizabeth pointed a straw at him with a mocking look. “But you’re not moving in any former girlfriends. I’m not that nice.”

Jason laughed. “No, that’s definitely a mistake I don’t plan on making again.” He took her hand in his, sliding his thumb over her engagement ring. “It’s good to see you smiling again.”

“It’s nice to have a reason to. I’m excited for Christmas,” she told him. “And for the wedding, and the baby—it just feels like things are finally coming together.”

Kelsey’s Apartment: Kitchen

Kelsey took a deep breath and pressed her mother’s number on her speed dial. “All right, let’s see if she wants to come for Christmas,” she said to Lucky at the sink. She put the call on speakerphone.

“Mom! Hey!”

“Hey, baby.” Angela Joyce’s was warm and friendly. “What’s the occasion? You don’t usually call until the weekend.”

“Well, you’re on speaker,” Kelsey said. “Lucky’s here.”

“Hey, Ms. Joyce.”

“Why am I on—oh, are you engaged?” Angela demanded. “Are you getting married?”

Lucky’s face drained of color so fast that Kelsey snickered. “No, Mom. We’re not getting married. We’ve only been dating for five months. We were talking about Christmas.”

“Oh, well, Lucky is welcome to join us if you want—”

“Well, actually, Mom, Lucky and I were thinking maybe you’d come to Port Charles. You know, since his mom just got home—”

“Kelsey. Take me off speakerphone.”

Surprised by her mother’s sharp tone, Kelsey flashed Lucky a confused look, then obeyed. “Mom?”

“I came to Port Charles after you were hurt. Wasn’t that enough?”

“No, I—I know. I just—I thought since you came then, and, well—Lucky’s mom was gone for almost a year. He wants to spend Christmas with her—”

“Then let him do that, and you come here. Like every other year. I’ve told you how I feel about Port Charles.” Angela sighed. “I’m sorry, baby, I know I got your hopes up, and I don’t want to make trouble for you. I like Lucky—”

“I know you do, Mom.” Kelsey bit her lip. “It was just an idea. I’ll come to Buffalo like always, and Lucky can be with his family.”

“You—you could stay if you wanted—”

“Not this year. Maybe next year—we’ll trade off or something. Let’s cross that bridge when we get there.” She talked to her mother for a couple more minutes, then closed her cell phone. Stared at it. “Well, that was a disaster.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d be so upset.” Lucky kissed her forehead. “It’s okay. You’ll spend this year with your mom, and then next year—if we need to talk about it, we’ll figure it out then.”

“I just—it’s just me and her, Lucky. And I feel bad now because she’s upset—”

“Kelse—” He kissed her, cutting off her protest. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Moms are important. We’ll do something with my family another time.”

“I love you,” she said. She kissed him again. “I need to finish some paperwork for court tomorrow—but—thank you for understanding.”

“I guess it’s a little surprising your mom is this upset over a car accident a decade ago,” Lucky said, “but I get it. My dad always falls apart when my mom isn’t around. She must have loved him.”

“Yeah, she did. And he was a great guy. I wish you’d known him.” Kelsey smiled wistfully. “It’s nice that your parents did. I can’t wait to hear more stories. I bet he really hated your dad back in the day.”

“Most people did,” Lucky said with a grin. “Go finish your paperwork—I’ll deal with the dishes.”

Kelly’s: Diner

“I really wish I didn’t have to close,” Lulu said with a sigh as she stifled a yawn. “No one’s ever here after ten, and still, I gotta stay until eleven. It’s a crime.”

“At least you’re being paid.” Dillon rolled his shoulder, stretched out his arm. “I’m probably gonna rent off-campus next semester. Getting tired of sneaking you past Alice.”

“Sneaking me—” Lulu rolled her eyes, then picked up another set of utensils to wrap in a napkin for the morning shift. “You’re an adult, Dillon. Why can’t we just got upstairs like normal people?”

“Uh, considering the fact that you won’t even let me cross the threshold in your house, that’s hypocritical.” Dillon wrinkled his nose. “I’ve barely met your mother.”

“Well, my father definitely would throw you out the window if he caught you, so I guess it’s about perspective.” Lulu picked up a coffee pot and wandered over to check on her last, lingering customer.

Dillon saw her cell phone light up with a text message, and his eye caught the return name — Dante. He frowned. Since when was Lulu close enough to her brother’s partner that she had his contact info saved?

He reached for her phone, flipped it open. “Took your advice,” he read as Lulu returned to the counter. “You were right. Again.”

Lulu snatched her phone back. “Hey, what’s your damage?”

“What’s my—you’re the one getting texts from other guys.” Dante nodded towards the phone. “What’s he talking about? What were you right about? And why again?”

“Nothing—I mean, nothing important—” Lulu’s cheeks flushed, and Dillon scowled. “Nothing,” she repeated. “He just—he was here earlier for dinner, and on the phone with his mother. She wanted him to go to New York for Christmas. I didn’t even really say anything to him—”

“And what about ‘again’?”

“What does it matter? We talked about his testimony at the hearing,” Lulu snapped. “He’s a friend. God, Dillon. I barely know him—”

“You know him enough to have his contact info in your phone. I’ve seen him looking at you—”

“Well, I’m hot,” Lulu retorted. “Everyone looks at me. I have a great ass. You’ve told me—”

“That is—” Dillon paused. “That is not the point,” he hissed. “I’ve seen you look at him—”

“Oh, for the love of—he’s a friend,” she repeated. “Do you see me throwing tantrums when you talk to Georgie? You actually dated her. This is just someone I talk to here at Kelly’s.”

Dillon got to his feet, then shoved his laptop into his bag. “You can’t even admit it—”

“Admit what?”

“I’m going home. I’m not in the mood to hang out,” he said. “Good night.”

“Good night to you,” Lulu called after him. “Asshole.” She scowled when her last customer frowned at her. “What’s your problem? Go home and stop drinking coffee!”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth handed her coat to Jason and frowned at the pile of mail on the desk. “Do you feel like the mail is getting here later and later?” she asked, picking up the stack and sorting through it.

“I think Wally’s just not sending it up until later.” Jason hung their jackets in the closet. “It’s usually junk—” He frowned when he saw her pause on a red envelope. “What is it?”

“A Christmas card. It’s postmarked from South Africa.” Elizabeth sighed, spreading her fingers over the address label. “That’s where my parents are now. They mailed this to my grandmother’s house.”

“I thought the house was sold—” Jason sighed, then nodded. “Because they didn’t have a forwarding address.”

“I wrote them a few times—from the condo and when I moved in here.” She set the other pieces of mail down on the desk and walked over the sofa, the card in her hands. “We haven’t seen each other since they left for Bosnia back when I was in high school. They were in Sarajevo, then London for a while. I think there was a stint in Belarus, but Sarah told me they’d been in South Africa for the last year.”

“At least they sent a card,” Jason said. He sat next to her. “I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”

“Yeah, but you’re right. They sent something.” She opened the seal on the envelope. “I wrote them when I found out about the baby,” she told him. “Maybe—”

But it was a generic Happy Holidays card. Inside, someone had written the year in the top right corner, then Elizabeth’s name over a bland ‘Have a wonderful holiday season!’ message. They’d signed it From Mom and Dad.

He took the card from her, scowling at it, turning it over. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. Same thing as last year.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know why I keep getting my hopes up. Doesn’t matter,” she said with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t,” she told Jason. “Last year—God, last year, it decimated me. I was already feeling like crap. I was alone, and then this stupid card came—and it just felt like proof that no one loved me. That I didn’t matter.”

Elizabeth reached out, touched his arm. “That’s not a criticism on you, Jason. That’s just a description of what I was dealing with. This year? It sucks. But it’s their loss. Because that’s it. Ignoring my child—again—it’s the last time I’m going to let them disappoint me.”

She snuggled into his embrace, and he slid his hands through her hair, combing his fingers through the strands the way he always did. “I have you. I have Emily, Nikolas, Bobbie. I have people who love me. And we’re getting married. We’re making a family of our own. I don’t need them to love me anymore. I have all the love that matters.” She leaned up, kissed him.

Jason kissed her back, tracing her jaw with his thumb. “Well, then, I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“Why don’t we go upstairs?” she murmured, sliding her hand down his chest and grinning. “And I’ll show you how much I love you?”

This entry is part 14 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

She walks, she runs
She fights, almost as one
And finds her voice
She’ll march
She has no choice
She’s crushed by thoughts
At night of men
Who want her rights
And usually win
I’m Alive, Norah Jones


Thursday, December 11, 2003

General Hospital: Kelly Lee’s Office

“Good morning,” Monica said with a smile as she kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Is that the sonogram?”

“Yeah, the technician said she’ll have the video ready for us by the time we’re done.” Elizabeth beamed, handing the photo to her. “She said the baby looks great—and it’s a boy!”

“A boy?” Monica looked up from the photo at her, then looked at Jason with a huge smile. “Oh, that’s so wonderful!”

Most of the visit was routine by this point—Elizabeth had a physical exam—her vitals were taken, her blood and urine were tested—and then she completed the pulmonary function tests Monica insisted on—blowing into tubes, sitting in a plastic box with a nose clip — all things that Elizabeth hated, especially the box. Even with the clear walls, the space still felt small and cramped.

Especially since this month, it all seemed more difficult than it had at their last visit. Jason wasn’t allowed into the room for the last round of tests—and it was probably for the best because even Elizabeth could see the concern on Monica’s face.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, concerned. “Monica?”

“A few things we should discuss. Let’s go back and talk with Kelly. Some of your other results should be done by now.”

Elizabeth grimaced but followed Jason’s mother back into the office where Jason was waiting. He got to his feet. “Hey. How—”

“Fine.” She squeezed his hand. “I think.” But her voice trembled slightly, and her voice sounded a bit hoarse, worn out from the breathing tests. Jason put an arm around her, and they sat down, waiting for Kelly to come in.

“Hey—well, let’s start with the good news,” Kelly said with a smile. “I looked over the ultrasound results—you know you’re having a healthy baby boy. He’s developing just fine—everything is just where it ought to be. Blood and urine came back normal. So, you’re still doing fine in that area.”

“But?” Jason asked, looking at his mother. “What about Elizabeth?”

“I’m a bit concerned with some of the results, particularly the lung capacity and airflow tests. I’m not surprised that your lungs might have some damage due to what happened over the summer,” Monica told her. “And, fortunately, it often heals on its own with time and rest, but you told me before we got started you’ve been having breathing problems.”

“Yeah. Um, I’ve had a few dizzy spells. I haven’t actually fainted,” Elizabeth said. “But there’s been a few times when I’ve—I’ve maybe pushed myself. The day of the hearing—I needed my oxygen tank a few times. It was the most I think I’d used it since I came home.” She looked at Jason. “Right?”

“You hadn’t used it since,” Jason confirmed with a nod. He kept his eyes on Monica. “Is—does she have another clot?”

“I’m not ruling it out,” Monica told them. “But I don’t think that would explain some of the results. You’re struggling to take a full, deep breath, and I can see that the oxygen isn’t quite circulating the way we’d like to see in your lungs or your blood. Are you having any chest pain?”

“Oh. No, no. Definitely not. I wouldn’t mess around with that. Jason wouldn’t let me either. I ignored it the last time,” Elizabeth told Kelly. “Because I knew I was in withdrawal from the Valium Ric had drugged me with. A lot of the symptoms were the same—but I’m not having any chest pain. Just sometimes—when it’s hard to breathe, my lungs burn, but it’s not the same feeling.”

“Well, that’s good.” Monica made a note. “And you’ve been monitoring your vitals? The pulse rate?”

“It’s been mostly normal except when she gets upset, then it’s fast,” Jason answered. He squeezed Elizabeth’s hand, drawing it into his lap. “But not irregular. It usually recovers with oxygen and rest. If it’s not a blood clot—”

“It could honestly be overexertion,” Monica told them. “You’ve been through a lot these last few months, Elizabeth. Maybe not resting as much as you should?”

“I…” Elizabeth’s throat felt tight as tears burned in her eyes. “I have been. I mean, when I got tired, and it’s just—it just started—” She looked at Jason. “I promise. It wasn’t this bad until—”

“You’re in the second trimester now,” Kelly said gently. “And it’s very possible that because of your medical history, common side effects just feel worse than they might under normal circumstances. You started this pregnancy with decreased lung capacity. We always knew there was a possibility that would make things harder towards the third trimester. Dizzy spells are normal. Being tired? Normal. We’re just concerned because you are at an increased risk for blood clots, and we want to stay on top of it. To get ahead of any complications.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, exhaled slowly. “So it could be nothing. That’s…that’s good.”

“What Monica and I are going to suggest is that you really focus on taking it easy these next few weeks. I hear you’re engaged,” Kelly said, with a smile, tipping her head towards Monica, whose cheeks flushed. “And hoping to get married at the end of January. Focus on that. Hire a wedding planner,” she added with a point of her pencil. “But just take it easy.”

“And after Christmas, if you’re still not feeling any better, we’ll schedule an echocardiogram and CT scan,” Monica said. “You’re absolutely right that things have been crazy lately. But now they should calm down, and we’ll see what’s what.”

As they returned to the elevator, Jason laced his fingers through hers. “Are you all right?”

Elizabeth sighed, tapped the button for the elevator, and looked at him. “It’s frustrating,” she admitted. “I was hoping for more certainty, you know? Some sort of declaration that it’s all fine, but I’m trying to focus on the positives. The baby is healthy.” She put a hand over her belly, smiling. “We’re having a boy, and he’s perfect. There might be nothing wrong with me at all. It just—it sucks.”

He put an arm around her shoulder as they boarded the elevator. “I know, but I’m glad Kelly and Monica aren’t that concerned,” he admitted.

“That’s true. And hey, a boy—” Elizabeth’s smile crept back on her face. “You already know a lot about boys. So—at least that’ll be easy.”

Jason drew her closer, kissing the top of her head. “Easy, huh? Just wait until he wakes up in the middle of the night and doesn’t go back to sleep.”

Brownstone: Foyer

Lucas shoved open the door, glaring at the dark sedan parked in his usual parking spot—he knew it was one of his sister’s stupid guards—Carly was back at the Brownstone, and so was all the drama that came with her.

Intending to remind Carly that other people lived here, too, and shouldn’t have to park a block away in the middle of winter, Lucas stalked into the living room, then started down the hallway to knock on the room she used when she stayed at the Brownstone.

“I appreciate you fitting me in—”

Lucas stopped just short of knocking on Carly’s slightly ajar door as her voice became clearer. He hesitated, realizing she was on the phone.

“No, I can wait until after the holidays. It’s so busy, and you should take time with your daughters—Right. No, it’s—I think I’ll be okay until then.”

Lucas frowned—was she making a doctor’s appointment? Who had a daughter?

“No, it’s—that was the worst time, and I don’t really remember it. I don’t think it’ll happen again—I’m just—I’m having trouble sleeping. And the time thing—” There was a long pause. “Okay. Thanks, Kevin. I’ll see you after the holidays. Have a great time in Seattle.”

When he was sure the phone call was over, Lucas gently knocked on the door, some of his previous irritation faded.

A minute later, the bedroom door opened, and Carly was there, wrinkling her face in confusion. “Lucas. Hey. Is—is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just—” He hesitated. “Your guard—” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Does he have to park right outside like that? It’s just—”

“Oh. Is it your parking spot? I’m sorry. I forgot—” Carly stepped out of her room. “I can tell him to find somewhere else—it’s just—it’s—I’m not used to having a guard here,” she admitted, folding her arms, turning back to face him in the hallway. “I didn’t before. Jason just relied on the security system Mama already had, and things were fine.”

“Ric being out on bail probably makes things a bit worse, then, huh?” Lucas asked. “Uh, if it’s that bad—why are you here?”

Carly bit her lip, frowned. “You don’t know what happened?”

“No,” Lucas drawled, “Mom just told me to pick up the kids from Laura and bring them to the house. I figured you and Sonny had a fight. Again.”

She sighed, looked down at her lap. Lucas grimaced because now he wondered if that was true. Or if there was something else he needed to know. “Carly? Is everything okay?”

“I—” Carly sighed, looked at the ground. “You should probably know,” she said softly. “Last summer, after the panic room, I had some…problems adjusting. Um, being locked up, in the dark…it was a lot.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well…Sonny’s been…very concerned about my safety.” Carly met his eyes. “And the other night, I was angry at him, I told him I was going to leave—and he locked me in the bedroom.”

“He locked you—” Lucas couldn’t finish the statement. “He locked you in.”

“Yeah. Believe it or not, he thought that made sense. So…it was a room with no windows, and I couldn’t leave.” Carly rolled her shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. “I kind of lost it—I, um, thought I was back in the panic room, and Sonny wasn’t…all that kind about letting Jason and Elizabeth get me out. The door had to be broken down.”

“Oh.” Lucas swallowed hard, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, Carly—”

“So, I’m here again. And the guard is here because I’m not—” Carly pressed her lips together. “I’m not altogether sure Sonny won’t…come back. I told him I’m not coming home, but he doesn’t always listen.”

Her voice was very quiet by the end of the statement, and Lucas wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen his sister look that small before. “The guard can stay. Outside the house. That’s—that’s the best place for him.”

“You’re sure?” Carly asked, skeptically. “Because I know me coming and going like this—especially after the last few years, the last time Sonny and I separated—not to mention—” She gestured with her hand at the space between them. “All the other ways I’ve messed up your life—I don’t want to make it worse.”

“I can live with walking an extra block. The guard’s fine. I’m—I’m sorry, Carly. I really didn’t know.”

“No, I know. And it’s—it’s fine. Um, thank you. For understanding.” Carly folded her arms. “I’ll try not to make things too crazy here.”

Lucas nodded and then left her standing alone in the hallway as he left his mother’s part of the Brownstone and headed upstairs to his place. Sympathy—even empathy for his older half-sister was a strange feeling, and he didn’t know what to do with it.

Quartermaine Estate: Terrace

Jason stepped out from the family room to find his cousin standing on the terrace, waiting for him. “Hey. Grandmother said you were out there. What’s up?”

“Thanks for coming all the way out here,” Ned said.

“Is this about the Caracas tip? Did Interpol hear anything?” Jason asked. “You could have called—”

“I didn’t want any phone records. You coming here to see family—that’s normal. And no, nothing yet from Caracas,” Ned admitted. “I wanted to tell you that Anna has decided—and I’ve agreed—that there’s not a lot the PCPD can do on the Lansing case. It’s being ruled inactive. All evidence suggests he’s thousands of miles away.”

Jason exhaled slowly and looked out over the darkness of Lila’s rose gardens. It made sense, he knew that. If Ric was out of the country, it wasn’t as if there was a lot the PCPD could even do. After a month with no leads—

“Taggert wasn’t completely on board with it,” Ned continued, “but that’s because none of us want to admit Ric Lansing might get away with everything he’s done.”

Jason exhaled slowly, dipping his head, acknowledging that was the biggest problem. He’d just watched Carly relive the terror of the panic room, and Elizabeth continued to battle physically and emotionally with the legacy of Ric’s crimes.

“She’s not…she’s not giving up,” Ned added when Jason remained silent. “It’s just—”

“It’s not something the PCPD can really handle anymore,” Jason said after a long moment. He nodded. “Yeah. I know. And you’re right. Ric’s probably in South America somewhere. If not Venezuela, then somewhere else. If he was planning anything—”

“He probably would have done it already,” Ned finished. “I’m sorry, Jason. I know how important this was to Elizabeth—and to Carly.”

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me know.” Jason turned to leave.

“Jason—Anna’s connections at Interpol are still investigating any tips we get. I’m not giving up on bringing him in.” Ned waited for Jason to look at him. “What Elizabeth did at the hearing—what she did for those other women, for my daughter, I want her to have this. Are you still in?”

“Yeah.” Jason nodded, thinking of Carly’s face two nights earlier, Elizabeth’s worries about her health— “Yeah, I’m still in.”

Kelsey’s Apartment: Kitchen

“It sucks,” Kelsey said as she handed Lucky his food from the takeout place, “but I agree with Anna. I mean, how much active work are you even doing on the Lansing case?”

“Not a lot,” Lucky admitted. He unwrapped the meatball sandwich, then shook his head. “At least we can say this wasn’t our fault. We didn’t lose him.”

“No, and Scott made sure the press remembered that our office tried to get bail denied for this exact reason.” Kelsey popped open her spaghetti and picked up a fork. “We got a pretty big win this week.”

“Yeah.” Lucky met her eyes, smiled. “Yeah, we did. You got the sentencing date?”

“Mmm-hmm, he’s being sentenced after Christmas. Twenty-five to life, same deal. Scott decided not to press his luck. Elizabeth already testified, and if we went to trial, all the crap Scott was worried about could come back—” She shrugged. “It’ll be over by New Year’s.”

“Those two girls Elizabeth told me about? The new victims? They filed reports.” Lucky wiped his mouth. “I took the statements today and forwarded them to Buffalo in case they decide to go forward with their case.”

“Well, at least they’re not nameless.” Kelsey sighed. “We get to close seven cases at once—don’t get to do that all that often. And he won’t be getting out any time soon. Maybe Ric Lansing gets away, but Vinnie’s going to rot in prison for the rest of his life.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Lucky said. He picked up his beer, sipped it. “Speaking of Christmas—Mom wants you to come over for Christmas dinner.”

Kelsey hesitated. “Oh.”

Lucky frowned, looked across the table at her, but Kelsey didn’t look up from her dinner. “What’s wrong? I thought you and Mom were okay—you were fine at Thanksgiving—”

“No, no, your mom is great. It was obviously silly to be so worried about your parents.” Kelsey bit her lip. “It’s just—” She set her fork down and met his eyes. “Christmas is a thing I do with my mom. Just her. Ever since my dad died, she hasn’t really—I mean, we had the tree and everything, but Dad made just such a huge deal over the holiday—she always gets pretty sad this time of year.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize your mom was still…” Lucky hesitated. “I mean, it’s been, what a decade?”

Kelsey pushed her hair behind her ear. “It’ll be ten years in June. I know, and mostly, Mom is fine. But she never got over losing my dad.”

“That really sucks. Maybe your mom might want to come up to Port Charles for a few days?”

Kelsey hesitated. “I don’t know, Lucky—”

“She already knows my parents, remember?” Lucky pressed. “She knew my mom because of Scott. And, well, everyone knows Luke Spencer. Especially if she lived here until 1994.”

“Maybe.” Kelsey pursed her lips. “I can always ask her. I mean, maybe it’s just hard because we don’t have a big family. It’s just us, you know. Maybe Mom would appreciate being part of a larger holiday, and she told me that she likes your mom.” She nodded. “Yeah, okay, I’ll ask her. Worst thing she can say is no, right?” She waited a moment. “But Lucky—if she does say no—”

“You’re going to Buffalo,” Lucky said, and Kelsey nodded. “That’s okay. It’s your mom, and she’s your family. I’d go with you, but—” He hesitated. “Last year, without my mom—”

“She just came home, Lucky. Of course, you should spend the day with her. And maybe my mom will come, so we’re worried about nothing. I’ll call her in a few days and find out.”

Harborview Towers: Hallway

When Bobbie strode around the corner towards Sonny’s penthouse, Max snapped to attention, frowning. “Ms. Spencer, how did you—”

“Carly’s elevator key.” Bobbie held it up. “I took it out of her purse. I didn’t think Sonny would let me up, and I didn’t want to get Jason or Elizabeth in the middle of this. He’s here, isn’t he?”

“Uh, yeah, but he doesn’t really want to see anyone—”

“He’ll see me.” Bobbie walked past the dumbfounded guard and shoved open the penthouse door, stalking inside.

“Damn it, Max—” Sonny spun around from where he was standing by the fireplace. He scowled, finding his mother-in-law in front of him. “You have one job—”

“What am I gonna do—” Max gestured at Bobbie. “How am I—” He threw up his hands and pulled the door shut, going back into the hallway.

“You here to tell me, ‘I told you so’?” Sonny asked Bobbie sourly. He walked over to the mini bar, poured himself a bourbon.

“Actually, yes.” Bobbie folded her arms, lifted a brow. “Because I believe I stood in this very room and told you that if you didn’t get help, if you didn’t do something to fix your problems, Sonny, we would be right here—with you at rock bottom, hurting the people around you.”

Sonny’s fingers clenched around the tumbler, then he forced himself to relax them. “I know what I did was wrong—”

“What you did to my daughter wasn’t wrong. It was abusive. You terrorized her.”

Bobbie’s flat, cold words jolted Sonny like an electric shock as he swallowed hard. “I never meant—”

“Your intentions don’t mean a damn thing. I told you that I wasn’t going to let you hurt my daughter or my grandchildren—and that’s exactly what you did. I knew it was a mistake for her to come back here, but I let Carly make her choices. That’s done. She is not coming back here.”

“You don’t get to decide that—”

“Oh, no?” Bobbie lifted her chin. “Try me, Sonny. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of—”

“And just who do you think you’re saying that to?” Sonny cut in sharply. “You think you’re going to take my family from me?”

“I don’t need to take anything, Sonny, you already shoved them out the door.” Bobbie stabbed a finger at him. “You forced her to relive being trapped in that panic room. You did that to her, not me. You locked her up for a month inside this penthouse and lied to her. You repeatedly made her feel like there was something wrong with her for demanding a little respect—and then you traumatized her by locking her in a small room with no windows. Why the hell would she ever come back?”

Sonny glared at her, not sure what to say to that—how to even respond—he was sure he’d come up with something, sure that he’d find a way to make Bobbie understand—

But then the door opened again, and Jason stepped in, warily looking back and forth between them. “Bobbie.”

“Jason,” Bobbie said. Her eyes flashed at him. “What are you going to do about this?”

“Do?” Jason repeated, taken aback. He blinked, looked at Sonny. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Sonny retorted. “Bobbie, leave him out of this—”

“He told me you forgave him for pushing Elizabeth—well, it must be nice to have that kind of empathy,” Bobbie snarled at Jason, “—to be able to forgive someone who didn’t just abuse your best friend but put his hands on your pregnant fiancée—Congratulations, by the way,” Bobbie added with an acidity to her tone Jason had never heard before. “I’m sure Elizabeth is thrilled to be signing up for this life. But my daughter is done. Keep him away from us.”

She shoved past Jason and stalked out of the penthouse. Jason exhaled slowly, turned back to Sonny. “You told Bobbie that I forgave you for what happened with Elizabeth?”

“I—” Sonny blinked, confused by that. “Yeah—you did—”

“Elizabeth is willing to let it go,” Jason said slowly, “because she thinks it will make things easier for me. But that’s not good enough or me. I’ve taken bullets for you. For your family. She’s my family.”

“I—I know that—” Sonny cleared his throat. “Bobbie—she said—did you get engaged? Did I—” He licked his lips. “Did I know that?”

“No. It happened after the hearing. Yes, we’re getting married next month. She’s the most important person in my life, Sonny. You know that. You’ve known that for months. She’s pregnant with our son.” Jason’s eyes burned into his. “And I know you weren’t in your right mind when you pushed her. Elizabeth knows that. But that doesn’t mean either of us forgives you.”

“I—” His mouth tasted like ash. “Jason—”

“You need to get this under control. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep carrying everything on my own.” Jason shook his head. “I came here to tell you that the PCPD is marking Ric as a cold case. Interpol is keeping it open, but as far as everyone is concerned, he’s somewhere in South America and isn’t coming back. It would be better for everyone if you just accepted that and moved on.”

“I—” Sonny swallowed. “I don’t know if I can.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment, then turned and left. Sonny stared down into his bourbon, hoping like hell it was over.

“They all leave.”

He closed his eyes at the silky, familiar sound of his dead wife. He turned to find Lily lounging on the sofa, in her pink dress. “It’s not like that.”

“No? They’re not here. You’re alone.” Lily’s lips curved. “Just the way it’s meant to be.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

When Jason went upstairs, he found Elizabeth dressed in one of his T-shirts, sitting cross-legged on the bed, with a notebook in front of her, and a few magazines next to her. She smiled hesitantly at him. “Hey. You’re later than I thought you’d be.”

Jason crossed the room, sat on the edge of the bed, and kissed her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he drew back slightly, brushing his fingers against her cheek. “I meant to call—”

“It’s okay.” She fisted her hand in his shirt, kissed him again. “You’d be very proud of me. I’ve been resting all day since you dropped me off.”

“Yeah?” Jason looked at the bed, picked at her notebook. “What’s this?”

“Oh, Emily and I were on the phone, talking through a guest list. Preliminary,” she told him, as he picked it up. He grimaced. “Preliminary,” she repeated. “You can veto anyone—”

“Are you really inviting Taggert and Baldwin?” Jason made a face. “They won’t come.”

“No, probably not,” Elizabeth said, “but I can still invite them. I promise it’ll be the last time I do anything nice for them. After this—” She playfully slashed her hand through the air. “We’re mortal enemies.”

He couldn’t help but smile—until he realized the entire Quartermaine family was also on the list. “Oh, man. Isn’t this supposed to be my wedding, too?” When Elizabeth just laughed, Jason set the notebook down. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

Elizabeth picked up another magazine, flipped through it. “What’s up?”

“About Sonny. Are you—” Jason hesitated. “Are you mad that I didn’t do more when he pushed you?”

Elizabeth frowned, then focused on him, closing the magazine. “What? Am I mad that you didn’t punch him or something?”

“Yeah,” Jason replied. “He pushed you, Elizabeth. If Bernie hadn’t been right there—”

“I—I don’t know. It all happened so fast.” She bit her lip, pushed her hair behind her ear. “I mean, I was trying to help Carly, and we could hear her screaming—that was more important. And it’s not like I fell or hurt myself. Not that it makes it okay—I just didn’t think about it—Why?”

“Are you worried about Sonny doing worse?” Jason said, not answering her question.

“Are you?” Elizabeth asked, softly, her eyes searching his. “Jason—what’s going on?”

“Bobbie came over to yell at Sonny, I guess, and he must have told her—and Carly about what happened to you. He told them I forgave him, probably to make Carly think she should, too. And Bobbie seemed—she seemed angry about it. Carly told her about the engagement.” He rubbed his finger over the ruby stone in her ring. “She seemed disappointed in me for not doing more.”

“And you were wondering if I was, too?” Elizabeth asked.

He sighed. “Maybe. Justus said almost the same thing.”

“Jason.” When she didn’t say anything right away, Jason reluctantly looked up, meeting her eyes. “The thing about Bobbie and Justus—they’re not living with this day today. Not the way you are. If Sonny was just your friend and he’d shoved me, yeah, I’d be annoyed if you were still talking to him or that you hadn’t—I don’t know—broken his jaw.”

Jason grimaced. “I—”

“But he’s not just your friend. He’s also your family. And he’s Sonny Corinthos. Sonny Corinthos can’t just fall mentally apart.” Elizabeth sighed. “And you can’t let people know that he’s having problems. I agree with Carly— I think he needs professional help. I guess I also understand it’s really not that simple.”

“I can’t make him do it. I wish I could,” Jason admitted. “But I can’t force him. Not without making a lot of problems that we just—” He shook his head. “We can’t afford the distraction right now. I need things to be stable. I need it to stay quiet. The PCPD is shelving Ric’s case. No more active investigation.”

“Because they think he’s left the jurisdiction and isn’t coming back,” Elizabeth finished. She sighed. “Well, I guess we knew that was coming.”

“I’m not giving up,” Jason told her, remembering Ned’s own promise but not wanting to worry her. “But if Ric stays gone—”

“Then Sonny might get his shit together,” Elizabeth said. “Which makes everything easier.”

“I know it sounds like I’m asking you to let go of ever having a trial,” Jason said slowly. “That’s not what I want—”

“But it’s out of your hands right now, so we have to focus on the things we can control.” Elizabeth forced a smile on her face. “You’re right. Ric being gone—staying gone—it might be better than dragging him back for a trial. At least right now. Sonny needs some space to get himself together, Carly needs it—and God knows, it’d be nice to relax and just think about the baby.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said. He was letting her down, and he knew it. It was worse because she understood it—because she was giving him permission. He hated it. “I just—what Kelly and Monica said about resting, and taking it easy—”

“It would be easier for us to do that if we weren’t constantly worried about what Sonny might do.” Elizabeth nodded. “You don’t have to convince me, Jason. You’re right. I also—I need a break from it all, too. After what we just went through—it would be—” She closed her eyes. “It would nice to just think about the holidays, about getting married, and getting ready for the baby. So—”

She opened her eyes and smiled again—this time, it was more genuine and reached her eyes. “So let’s just put it away. If we need to worry about it, we will, but for now—let’s just get Sonny straightened out, let’s make sure Carly is okay, and you and me—we’ll think about the future.”

Jason just stared at her, not really sure how to process it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I love you, Jason. And I know how hard you’ve worked to make this happen for me, for Carly. I know how much crap you took from Sonny, how much worse it made things— if it had been in your power, I’d get what I needed—we’d get the trial—but it’s not. It’s out of our hands now, so it’s just—it’s up to us how we deal with it. And I—” Elizabeth touched his lips with the tips of her fingers. “I choose not to give Ric Lansing one more minute of my time. He doesn’t deserve it. We’re a family now. And he can’t take that from us.”