October 6, 2020

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.”

This entry is part 13 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

Maybe I should have loved you better
Maybe you should have loved me more
Maybe our hearts were just next in line
Maybe everything breaks sometime
Everything breaks sometime
Everything Breaks, Jewel


Wednesday, December 10, 2003

Brownstone: Kitchen

Carly stirred her coffee restlessly and looked over at her mother. “You didn’t have to stay home, you know. I’m okay—”

Bobbie lifted her brows, then sat back down to look over the newspaper. “I just want to make sure that no one bothers you.” She frowned at her watch. “Jason said he was going to arrange for security here, but maybe he hasn’t had a chance yet—”

“Sonny sent a lot of the extra guards down to Venezuela when they got word Ric was there,” Carly told her. “I don’t know if they’re back yet, and it’s not like I’m going anywhere—”

Bobbie looked ready to argue again, but the doorbell stopped her. With a grimace, she got to her feet and went to the foyer. A moment later, Carly heard the door open. “She’s not talking to you.”

“Bobbie, just let me—”

Carly closed her eyes at the sound of her husband’s voice. It wasn’t fair for her mother to fight her battles for her. She needed to be stronger than that. She set her coffee down, then stood up to join her mother in the foyer.

Sonny was on the doorstep, Max visible at the base of the stairs outside. Bobbie had opened the door only partially—blocking Sonny from getting inside. He looked—normal, Carly decided. Like he had the morning before when they’d driven to Syracuse. His hair was neatly combed, his suit was pressed—

He shouldn’t look like that. He should look like hell—he should look sorry. Devastated by what he’d done to her—what he’d put her through.

That’s what was bothering her, Carly realized as she stepped into his line of view. Sonny didn’t just look normal—he looked irritated at having to be there, at having to deal with Bobbie.

He did not look like a man who had locked his wife in a room the night before, leaving her traumatized and fleeing for her sanity.

“I’ll talk to him, Mama,” Carly said. “For a minute. He can come in.”

“Carly—” Bobbe said, her mouth tight with irritation. “I don’t think—”

“I think it’s important that I make myself clear,” Carly said. Bobbie sighed, then stepped back. Sonny stepped inside, closed the door behind him. He started to take off his jacket, but Carly held up her hand.

“You’re not staying.”

His hands stilled on his lapels, his dark eyes meeting hers. Then Sonny nodded slowly. “Okay. Then we’ll do this here. I’m sorry. Obviously, I wasn’t thinking clearly last night. I—I wanted you to be safe. To protect you. I didn’t do it the right way.”

Bobbie scowled but held her tongue.

“No, you didn’t, but we shouldn’t pretend that yesterday was the first time we’ve had an issue. Yesterday was just the final straw. From the moment I stood up to you—” Carly folded her arms as his expression tightened. “When I told you I didn’t want a deal, that I wanted to testify, you have punished me. You have tried to make me feel like there’s something wrong with me for wanting that—”

“That’s ancient history—”

“I wanted that to be true,” Carly said softly, more to herself. “I wanted to think that it didn’t matter anymore, but it’s just the same problem, again and again, Sonny. You think that what you need and want matter more than me. Than what I need. What I want. And sometimes, yes, you’re right. But it can’t always be about you.”

Sonny scoffed. “Are you really standing there and claiming that our relationship is always about me? That’s bull, Carly—”

“No, it hasn’t been. And I’ve made mistakes, Sonny. I’ve done terrible things to you, trying to protect you—” Carly bit her lip. “But the difference is…I’ve tried to learn from those mistakes, and you don’t think there’s anything you need to change. I told you I was going back to work. You never told me Leticia wasn’t coming back, and you never set me up with a driver or a guard—you trapped me in that penthouse, and if it hadn’t been for Jason, I wouldn’t have been able to leave. To go to work.”

Sonny narrowed his eyes. “I told you that was a mistake—”

“I would have left last week,” Carly told him. “That’s why I didn’t come home after work—why I was still at Jason and Elizabeth’s. Because I needed to think about what to say to you. But you came in with that panic attack, and I put it away. Because that’s what you needed.”

Sonny pressed his lips together. “I can’t give you a trial, Carly. I can’t change the fact that Ric is out there somewhere, plotting his revenge—”

“We don’t know that. We just know maybe he’s in South America. Thousands of miles away. And this isn’t about a trial. It’s about whether or not you respect me. And you don’t, Sonny. More than that, I’m—” Her voice trembled. “I’m afraid of you.”

Sonny flinched, then looked at the ground. “I know. I can’t—I’m sorry. I did a terrible thing, and I can’t take it back. I’d give anything—”

“You need more help than I can give you,” Carly told him. “I can’t do it alone. Jason can’t either. I should have pushed you last summer, but I thought we could handle this—”

“This is your doing,” Sonny said, glaring at Bobbie, who snorted and shook her head.

“If I had any control over Carly, she never would have gone back in the first place,” Bobbie retorted.

“Mama,” Carly murmured, and Bobbie subsided. “You either go to counseling and figure out how to sort this out, Sonny, or I’m never coming back. I can’t go back into a marriage with a man whose mental illness—”

“I am not crazy—”

“Then you knew what you were doing when you locked me in our bedroom?” Carly shot back.

“Look, I said I was out of control last night. Christ, Carly, I barely remember most of it. I couldn’t even remember shoving Elizabeth, but if Jason can forgive that—”

What did you do—” Bobbie cut in, stepping forward.

“Elizabeth?” Carly repeated. “What—” She shook her head. “What did—what do you mean? You—” She put up a hand in front of her. “You locked me in our bedroom, and I can almost understand that.”

“Carly—”

Almost,” she snapped at Bobbie impatiently. “When you get into these moods, Sonny, I know your brain lies to you. I can follow the steps to see how you thought it was keeping me safe. It doesn’t make it right—but it makes sense. But you didn’t lay a hand on me. You didn’t hurt me.”

Sonny pressed his lips together. “So you can forgive me—”

“No. I can’t. Because you don’t want to fix it. How do I know it won’t happen again? Did Elizabeth try to help me? Is that what happened? She got in your way? Tried to stop you?” When Sonny looked away, Carly nodded. “So you pushed her. She’s pregnant, Sonny. Just like I was. How could you do that? And what happens the next time you lose it—the next time I try to challenge you? Will you put your hands on me? What if Michael tries to stop it? Will you hurt him?”

“I would never lay my hands on my own son,” Sonny said with a shake of his head, a burning look. “You know that—”

“No, I don’t know that,” Carly managed. “And you don’t know that either. If you went after a pregnant woman that has never done a single thing to hurt you, how do I know I’m not next? That my children aren’t in danger? You need more than a sedative, Sonny. You need professional help. That’s my line in the sand. I’m not coming back unless something changes.”

“I am not weak, and I am not crazy. There’s no chance in hell—”

“Then you can get out,” Carly said flatly. “We have nothing else to discuss.”

Sonny stared at her for a long moment, then turned to yank open the door. He stalked down the steps, and Bobbie slammed the door behind him.

Carly pressed a fist to her mouth, closed her eyes. “He doesn’t see it.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Bobbie sighed. “I’m sorry, Carly—”

“You warned me, Mama. Months ago.” Carly exhaled, then nodded. “This—this is the right thing to do. For me, for my kids, and for Sonny.” She looked at Bobbie. “Right?”

“Yes, But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.” Bobbie wrapped Carly into her arms and hugged her tightly.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Around the time her son turned thirteen, Olivia realized she no longer knew exactly what Dante was thinking. He’d become a teenager, a species that was mysterious even to mothers. He’d come home moody and facial expressions gave her nothing to work with — she always got them wrong.

So, Olivia had tried to figure out other ways to know what Dante was thinking — he was her baby after all, and she wasn’t tagging out of the fight so easy—

But on this day—the day after his testimony had ended his cousins’ last chance at any freedom—Olivia thought it was time she tried simply asking what the hell was going on.

“I called your grandmother,” Olivia said as Lulu set their breakfasts down, then went back to the counter. She squinted slightly as she realized Dante wasn’t listening to her—but that his eyes had followed their waitress.

She twisted slightly, then raised her brows when she saw Lulu looking back—and her boyfriend, Dillon Quartermaine, scowling at them both.

“Oh, that looks like trouble,” Olivia muttered. She snapped her fingers twice in front of his face, and Dante blinked.

“What?” He picked up his coffee. “You say something?”

“I could have announced I was runnin’ for President, and you wouldn’t have noticed,” Olivia said sourly.

“Are you old enough for that?” Dante asked with a frown. “Don’t you have to be, like fifty? You’re not fifty. Are you?”

“You are not funny.” Olivia narrowed her eyes. “And you have to be, like, forty-something. I don’t know. It’s not like I paid attention in history.” She rolled her shoulders. “Like I was sayin’, I called your grandmother this morning.”

“Isn’t she also your mother?” Dante sipped his coffee.

Olivia narrowed her eyes. “On alternate Wednesdays when she’s not a pain in my ass. It won’t work, wise guy. You can’t distract me that easy. If you wanna go ask the blonde out—”

“She has a boyfriend,” he muttered. “And what about Grandma?”

“She still isn’t all that ecstatic with me or you, and she thinks Gloria Cerullo’s boys threw something at her window last night—”

“Aren’t Gloria’s boys in their forties?”

“That’s what I told her. But I think she’s starting to come around. She said Frankie made her listen to the news reports again—they released the tape.”

“They—” Dante swallowed. “Already?”

“Not the whole thing. Not yet, anyway. Just the part where Vinnie admits it. No names, no details. Just that he did it.”

“So Grandma believes it.” Dante shrugged, pushed his home fries around on his plate.

“Fran never will—”

“Can we talk about Grandma naming her kids Francis and Francesca?” Dante asked. “Because that sounds more fun.”

“Hey. I’m just—I’m trying here, Dante. No one is happy that yesterday had to happen. And I hate my sister, but I’m also sorry for her,” Olivia admitted. “It’s not like Vinnie was ever a shining star—we always knew he was an asshole, but there’s a difference between being my least favorite nephew and being a monster. If someone told me you did something so terrible, I don’t know if I’d believe it either—”

“Ma.” Dante looked at her, and Olivia closed her mouth. “Look, I just don’t want to talk about it. It’s done. Taggert told us that Vinnie’s pleading guilty to the original deal. It’s done,” he repeated flatly. “I did what I had to do.”

“I know—”

“And Grandma—I’m just—” Dante looked away, and Olivia frowned.

“Did she say anything to you, baby? After the hearing? I know you told me yesterday she didn’t, but—”

“No.” Dante took a deep breath, met her eyes. “No, she didn’t. It’s fine. Even if she believes Vinnie did it, she’s still angry at me for going against family. So…let’s just leave it where it is for now, okay?”

Olivia pursed her lips, then nodded. “All right. We’ll let it go for now. For now,” she repeated. She lifted her eyebrows. “Now tell me about the blonde behind the counter. How long has that been going on?”

“Ma—”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason’s Office

Johnny O’Brien stifled a yawn as he sat down on the sofa. He’d taken the red eye from Puerto Rico the night before, to tell Jason and Sonny in person about Caracas, and what the next step should be. “No Sonny?” he said, accepting the coffee that Bernie gave him.

Jason didn’t look at Bernie or Justus, hoping they wouldn’t change their expression. “He’s not coming in today. Is there something he needs to know?” he asked, leaning against the desk. “Did you find out anything?”

“No,” Johnny started, but Tommy Marcheski scowled.

“Sonny’s been all over this for the last month, and now he doesn’t show up? When he dragged me in here? I got shit to do—this isn’t even my problem—”

“I know that,” Jason said, irritated. “I know Sonny called this meeting, but he’s not here. Suck it up. Let’s just stop pissing each other off, and you can go back to worrying about the clubs.”

Tommy’s scowl didn’t lessen, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Nothing from Caracas?” Jason asked Johnny. “I know you said there was nothing the first time, but—”

“Nothing this time either. I went personally,” Johnny told him. “Michelena called me, told me he’d seen Ric in the marketplace. I went to talk to him—to get to the bottom of it. He said he’d seen him, and one of his guys said he also saw the same guy. But Michelena never saw Ric before, and was comparing it to a picture.”

“So it could be anyone who might look like Ric.”

“Exactly. To be honest, Jason, I’m not sure this is worth all the trouble you’re going to,” Johnny told him. He nodded at Tommy. “I’ve got the casinos to worry about, and Sonny keeps dragging me up here to report, to deal with crap that isn’t my responsibility. I’d say Francis should be handling it since security is his thing, but—”

“You’re not…” Jason hesitated. “You’re not wrong. I have some, uh, contacts from Interpol,” he told them. “They’ve been looking into it—no, we don’t have anyone officially on our payroll,” Jason said when Johnny looked interested. “But Lansing is an international fugitive at this point—Interpol says they can’t trace him out of the country either.”

“So we have maybe two sightings, two thousand miles away from Port Charles.” Johnny shrugged. “Can’t we just say that the asshole has left the country and is long gone?”

“He should have been dead months ago,” Tommy muttered. He glanced at Jason, who was glaring at him. “Sorry, Jason. I am. And I get it. It’s personal, and I’m glad your girl is fine. I’m glad Carly is fine. But you’re screwing over the business to look for him. So, if it’s business, then fine. Let me shoot this fucker on sight. If it’s not, then let us do what we need to do and stop obsessing over it.”

“I’ll talk to Sonny,” Jason said, crossing his arms. “I’m sorry. Neither one of you will be asked to report on Lansing again. You’re right. It’s been over a month. If Ric was coming for us, he’d have done it already. He’s not going to use the business again.”

“Good. Now, can I go to sleep?” Johnny demanded, handing the coffee back to Bernie.

“Yeah, get out of here.”

When Tommy and Johnny had both left, Jason exhaled slowly, looked at Justus and Bernie. “They’d never say it to Sonny, but they’re not the only ones who think we’re wasting our time.”

“No,” Bernie admitted. “So, if you can get Sonny to back off from using all the resources to go after Lansing, then it would smooth a lot of things out.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, speaking of things aren’t really my business, I wanted to ask how Mrs. C is.”

“She’s fine,” Jason said, shortly. Carly was at the Brownstone, and he hadn’t been able to go see her yet. Elizabeth had said she’d do that for him, but he’d feel better if he saw her in person.

“Jason, I gotta tell you, I’m not comfortable with what happened last night,” Justus told him. “With just…pretending it didn’t happen—”

“I’m not—we’re not doing that,” Jason cut in. “Carly took the kids, and she’s with her mother. She’s probably not coming back. But it’s not any different than what happened last summer.”

Justus squinted. “I’m not just talking about Carly, Jason. I’m talking about…” He shook his head. “It’s not my place—but Sonny was out of control last night. Are you comfortable living across the hall from him?”

Jason stared at him for a long moment. “Say what you want to say, Justus.”

“Fine. You planning on doing anything about what he did to Carly? What about Elizabeth? What if no one else had been there last night—if Elizabeth had been alone when she found out Sonny locked Carly up?” Justus demanded. “He put his hands on her, he locked up his wife and scared Carly so badly, she went a little crazy, but you’re just gonna say you sedated him, so it’s fine now?”

“I—” Jason didn’t have an answer for that. Hadn’t even thought to remember how often Elizabeth was alone in the penthouse—

He’d left her alone there today. Cody was outside, and sure, Max was usually there. But—

“It’s not fine,” Jason said after a long moment. “And we’re still sorting it out. I’m waiting to see what Carly wants to do.” But he knew Elizabeth was uneasy about Sonny, that she’d accepted his apology to smooth things over for Jason—

“I don’t know, Justus,” Jason continued. “Nothing that happened last night is okay. I just don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “It’s not that simple.”

“It would be for me,” Justus retorted. “A man puts his hands on a woman—” He stopped. “None of us did anything last night to protect Carly or Elizabeth, and it doesn’t sit right with me. Sure, you got her out of that room, but it just—it bothers me.”

“You think I should have punched him?” Jason asked darkly. “When he pushed Elizabeth? Is that what I should have done?”

“Yeah—”

“Should I have stopped helping Carly so I could do that? You didn’t do it either, Justus. If you have a problem with how I’m handling this, go ahead. Tell me how I could have done better.”

“I don’t think Justus thinks you did the wrong thing,” Bernie said, stepping between them before Justus could snap back. “I think we’re all just concerned. I was very worried about Carly all night, Jason. Watching her go through that—it was upsetting. And we’re just—we’re just sorting it out.”

“She didn’t know where she was, Jason,” Justus said. “She thought she was back in that panic room—and Sonny did that to her. How do I work with him after this? After knowing what he’s capable of?”

“You’re not the only one asking those questions, Justus.” Jason exhaled slowly. “I just—I don’t have the answers. I’m sorry.”

“You better find them before Sonny does some serious damage next time.” Justus picked up his briefcase and stalked out. After a moment, with an apologetic smile, Bernie followed.

Brownstone: Living Room

When Carly opened the door to find Elizabeth on the steps, the blonde frowned slightly. “Uh, hey. I wasn’t—I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Jason is going to try to stop by after work,” Elizabeth told her, “but he wasn’t sure how late he’d be. So I told him I’d check in.” She bit her lip. “Um…can I come in? Or…”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.” Carly stepped back and let Elizabeth into the foyer. “I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s been a weird day.”

“I’m sure.” Elizabeth took off her jacket, hung it on a hook in the hall. “How are you?”

“Not entirely sure,” Carly admitted as she led Elizabeth into the living room. They sat on the sofa. “Michael doesn’t seem to think anything is wrong. I guess he’s just…” She sighed. “He’s used to being moved around.” She twisted her wedding ring on her finger, staring down at it. “I don’t…remember a lot of last night.”

When Elizabeth didn’t say anything, Carly looked at her. “You said you had this last summer. The disorder. Did you have memory problems?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth scratched her forehead. “Um, it depended on how bad it was mostly. I got trapped in an elevator about a month after the crypt—I don’t remember any of that, just finally snapping back in the waiting room at the hospital, with my grandmother looking at me weird. And then I had panic attacks that weren’t as bad. I could kind of—” Elizabeth squinted. “I could sort of hear myself, but I couldn’t stop myself, you know? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. It does. I don’t think I’d had anything like last night happen before,” Carly admitted. “Where I didn’t remember anything. I was having nightmares or losing track of time, but…it was kind of scary, to be honest. To come back to myself, be at Jason’s and not know why.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Kevin told me it was about triggers. And some are worse than others. For a while, Michael was a trigger because he was the last thing I saw before I passed out.”

“I’m so sorry, Carly.” Elizabeth squeezed her hand. “I think the scariest thing is not knowing what might be a trigger. The worst attack I think I ever had was back in July. Jason had that letter from Baker, and he put it down in front of me. He was going to tell me he’d gone to see him in Pentonville—but seeing the letter—I started to relive the night I was attacked. I disappeared into that night. Jason tried to help me, and I scratched his arm—” She exhaled slowly. “It seems so silly that the letter would do it.”

She looked at Carly. “I’m sorry, Carly. I wish I’d done something sooner. I think—I think after last week, after the way Sonny acted when he couldn’t find you—”

“You did the same thing I did. You put it away. Because Sonny can’t fall apart,” Carly told her. “When he falls apart, it makes things worse. When I was missing—Sonny couldn’t function, and Jason had to do everything. We’ve been covering for him for years, and it’s not working. It’s getting worse.”

“I know.” Elizabeth paused. “Sonny came over this morning. To apologize to Jason, to me, but I—” She grimaced. “I got the feeling that he thinks that should be enough. Did—was he here? We told him to leave you alone, but I got the feeling—”

“Yeah, he came over to apologize. He said Jason forgave him for shoving you—” Carly scowled. “I don’t—I don’t remember him doing that. I can’t—It’s like, I heard the door being locked, and my brain just—it flipped out. When—”

“I don’t know how long you were up there alone,” Elizabeth said. “I just know that Jason and I had been home from the hearing for about two hours—we were just sitting down with some dinner when Justus and Bernie came over. We could hear some shouting, but it didn’t sound—” She pressed her lips together. “It didn’t sound so bad at first. But then Sonny came in—he looked terrible, and then we could hear you screaming.”

Carly rubbed her throat. “You could hear me screaming all the way from the other side of the building? That explains why my throat hurts—”

“I started to leave to check on you, but Sonny pushed me back to stop me. I knew—we both knew something was wrong, so we went to get you.” Elizabeth looked at her. “You were in the bedroom, but you thought you were in the panic room.”

“I—” Carly blinked at her. “I did. I saw you. I thought—I thought Ric had put you in with me. Or maybe—maybe I thought I was watching you on the monitors. Drinking the water.” Carly closed her eyes. “I screamed at you all the time to stop drinking, but you couldn’t hear me.”

“You told me not to drink the water last night. Jason held Sonny back, and I brought you over to the penthouse. It’s—that’s what happened.”

“That’s what happened,” Carly repeated. “Mama didn’t know all of the details. She just knew the basics. I wanted the details. I need to know how bad it was. I can’t remember, but if I don’t know, I might forget.” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to forget. He did that to me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know he thought he was protecting me. I understand that. He probably—he can explain it that way to himself, and I can get it. He hurt you because he didn’t want you to get in his way—to stop him from protecting me. But—” Carly shook her head. “But that can’t be okay. I can’t live like that.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Jason went to work today. And—” Carly frowned. “You said Justus and Bernie were over at the penthouse. Why? It—it was after eight. They don’t—” She touched Elizabeth’s arm. “What happened?”

“Someone saw Ric again in Caracas,” Elizabeth said. “Which is good news. Because it means he’s still far away from us. Sonny had organized some meeting today with a bunch of the guys. I don’t—I don’t really know them all. But it was important, and Jason had to handle it. That’s why he didn’t come over yet—”

“Because he’s putting out all the fires. Like usual. I thought—I thought going back to the penthouse would make his life easier,” Carly confessed. “I didn’t—I thought if I were somewhere Sonny could see me, he wouldn’t lose it. He would stay focused, and Jason wouldn’t have to do everything.”

“But that’s not what happened.”

“No.” Carly was quiet for a minute. “I told Sonny that if he doesn’t get professional help, I’m not coming back. Do—” She looked at Elizabeth. “Do you think Jason will back me on this?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said immediately. “Of course he will.” Then she hesitated. “I just don’t know if…if Sonny will do it.”

“Because it’s not like Jason is going to push him to do it. Yeah, I know. And God knows, it’s clear that Sonny doesn’t respect me enough to do it because I’ve asked him to.” Carly frowned, reached for Elizabeth’s hand again. “This—this ring is new. Isn’t it?”

“It is,” Elizabeth said with a hesitant smile.

“It’s nice. Ruby, right? Did Jason give that to you? After the hearing?” Carly asked.

“He did. Um, it’s nearly the same shade as a piece of Venetian glass he gave me a few years ago.” Elizabeth twisted the ring on her finger. “I don’t know if this is the right time—but after the hearing, he asked me—he asked me to marry him.”

“Oh.” Carly’s eyes widened slightly, and she took Elizabeth’s hand against to examine the ring more closely. She remembered another ring Jason had bought—a gaudy diamond ring that Carly had helped him pick out.

“I know it’s not a diamond—Emily said the same thing when I went over for lunch,” Elizabeth continued. “She thought it was confusing, but—”

“But it probably means more that it’s not,” Carly said, looking at Elizabeth. “That Jason picked something for you.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth’s face lit up, and she looked at the ring. “Yeah. Exactly. I mean, diamonds are nice. And they’re great. But I’ve had two other engagement rings. And Jason gave Courtney a diamond.” She wrinkled her nose. “She made sure I saw it when we were still working together.”

“Yeah, that does sound like her.” Carly released her hand, managing a smile of her own. “I’m happy for you. And for Jason. Really. Yesterday—it was a tough day, but I’m glad you’ll be able to remember it for good reasons.”

“Me, too. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll pack things for you, or run interference if I need to—” Elizabeth started to stand, then swayed slightly—her hand reached out for something to hold on to—her knees buckled—

Carly lunged up—caught Elizabeth before the brunette fell to the ground, got her to the sofa. “Elizabeth, whoa—are you—”

“Dizzy.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Just—just lost my balance—”

But Carly went to the stairs to call upstairs to the second floor apartments— “Lucas! Felix! Are either of you home?”

“Carly—” Elizabeth managed from the sofa.

A door opened from above, and Felix stuck his head out. “Carly? What’s up?”

“Elizabeth Webber. She’s having a dizzy spell—”

“Be right down. Get her some water—”

“Carly—”

“Quiet.” Carly went to the kitchen to fill a glass of water, and when she returned to the living room, her brother’s boyfriend was kneeling in front of Elizabeth, her wrist in his hand.

“Your pulse is thready.” Felix peered at Elizabeth’s face. “You’re flushed—your pupils are dilated—how’s the breathing? Can you breathe deeply for me?”

“Um.” Elizabeth grimaced, shook her head. “N-No, but that’s normal.”

“Normal?” Carly repeated. “I knew you were still having issues sometimes, but how often—”

“Are you short of breath a lot, Elizabeth?” Felix asked. He took the glass of water from Carly and handed it to Elizabeth. “Lucas told me about your embolism.”

“I’m calling Jason—”

“Carly—”

But the blonde wasn’t listening. She rummaged around for her cell phone and started to dial.

“I don’t want to worry him—”

But Carly wasn’t listening, and her call had already connected. Elizabeth grimaced, then looked at Felix, answered the question he’d asked before Carly had decided to call Jason. “Uh. Yeah, I guess. A few times a day.”

“Just a few times a day?” Felix raised his brows. “Or is it more?”

“It’s…a lot. But I’m pregnant. I’m supposed to be tired. Aren’t I?” Elizabeth frowned at him. “I—I’m just tired.”

“I’m sure that’s what it is. I’m in my second year of the nursing program,” Felix told her. “So obviously, I’m not a doctor, but I will say that being short of breath a lot isn’t a super common side effect of pregnancy. Dizziness, fatigue, sure. But with your medical history, I wouldn’t disregard it.”

“Jason is on his way over. He said to stay put,” Carly told her. “Felix, what can I do?”

“She’s okay—her pulse is starting to return to normal.” Felix tapped the water. “Drink. You might be slightly dehydrated. You could have stood up too fast. Could be a lot of things.”

“Great. A lot of help,” Elizabeth muttered, but then smiled at him. “Thank you, though. I appreciate you coming down.”

“Any time. What’s the point of having me and Lucas upstairs if you can’t use us?” Felix got to his feet, looked at Carly. “You want me to stick until Jason gets here?”

“No.” Carly looked at Elizabeth, who did look a lot better. “No, unless you think you need to—”

“I’ll just hang for a minute or two. Make sure you finish that water.”

“Oh, shoot,” Carly muttered when the baby monitor on the table emitted a cry. “I have to check on Morgan.” She turned and went down the hall.

Elizabeth and Felix sat in silence for a few minutes as her breathing slowly returned to normal, and she could feel her lungs relaxing. She sipped her water, then looked at the younger man standing by the windows, peering out onto the street.

“Felix,” Elizabeth said, slowly. He turned to her. Lifted his brows. “What would you say if I told you I’m short of breath often, and that I also have to use an oxygen tank sometimes when I get upset and hyperventilate? Does…could that explain the dizziness?”

Felix frowned. “I know that sometimes PE sufferers are given oxygen therapy afterward because exertion and stamina are a challenge, but you should be mostly recovered from that. The pregnancy—” He hesitated. “Did it go away after your PE? Or did it get worse since you got pregnant?”

“It went away for a while, but it’s back. And it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks,” Elizabeth admitted. “Maybe I just pushed myself yesterday. Maybe I just need to rest—”

“Maybe. I think you should talk to your doctor to make sure.” Felix glanced over when Carly came back, Morgan in her arms. “I’ll head upstairs—”

The front door opened, and Jason came in then, his chest heaving slightly as if he’d run from the warehouse. “What’s wrong?”

He went over to the sofa, sat next to Elizabeth, took her hand in his to measure her pulse. Elizabeth grimaced, and with her free hand, finished her water.

“Dizzy spell,” Felix told Jason. “I had her drink water, checked her pulse, and rest. Seems like it’s calming down.”

“I’m okay,” Elizabeth assured Jason. She showed him the water. “I probably didn’t drink enough water at lunch.” She paused. “But I’ll talk to Kelly and Monica about it tomorrow when we have the ultrasound.”

Jason met her eyes, and she saw the worry there. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. If you want to wait—”

“They can’t do anything about it today. I’m fine right now.” She started to stand, and Jason pulled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I am—” She touched his chest. “I’m okay now. I probably should have stayed home.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Go back to work,” she told him with a smile.

“No, I’ll—” Jason looked at Carly for a minute before focusing on Elizabeth again. “I’ll take you home—”

“You wanted to stop by and talk to Carly today anyway,” Elizabeth reminded him. “If Felix walks me to the car—Cody will take me home. And I promise — I’ll call Monica when I get there.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason began again, but then sighed. Nodded. “Okay. Call me when you talk to Monica, and I’ll bring home dinner.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” She kissed him, then went to the hallway to get her coat. Jason watched her out the window as Felix walked her down the stairs and didn’t look away until Cody had driven away.

Felix went back upstairs, and Jason turned to Carly. “Hey. Thanks for calling me.”

“Sure. She didn’t want me to, but I figured—” Carly folded her arms. “Is she okay, Jase? I know she was having trouble yesterday, and then I didn’t think about last night—”

“She’s—she probably pushed herself.” He didn’t look convinced, but Carly didn’t want to make him feel worse. He shook his head, trying to put it out of his mind. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Really—” Carly offered him a hesitant smile. “Sonny came by, and I told him I’m not coming home until he gets help. He won’t listen, I’m sure, but I can’t—I can’t keep doing this.”

“I’ll try to convince him,” Jason said. He paused. “I’m sorry about what happened. That I didn’t do more—”

I could have done something, too, Jason. I knew weeks ago he was being too controlling—I should have stopped it. But I gave in. I told myself I was compromising, that I was trying to meet him halfway—” Carly shook her head. “But I wasn’t. I was humoring him, and it just made it worse. I just—I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Me, either,” he admitted. He looked out the window, and she knew he was still thinking about Elizabeth.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Carly told him softly. “Elizabeth told me you proposed. It’s a beautiful ring.”

“Oh.” Jason looked back at her, and she could see that he was still preoccupied with worry. Once that would have driven her absolutely insane, knowing that Jason’s entire attention wasn’t on her. “Yeah, thanks. I—”

“You don’t have to feel bad about being happy.” She walked forward and hugged him tightly. After a moment, he hugged her back. “I’m happy for you. I didn’t always like her, but I’m glad you’ve found someone who fits.” She kissed his cheek, pulling back. “I’ll try really hard not to mess up this wedding.”

Jason smiled then, and Carly was happy to see it was more genuine. “You didn’t mess up the last one, Carly.”

“No, it turns out I did you a favor. I would have preferred objecting in dramatic fashion, not getting kidnapped, but I’m not going to argue with the results.” Carly shrugged.

“Me either.” He kissed her forehead. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. And same. I want to know how your appointment goes,” Carly told him as he started to leave. “Don’t forget — this friendship thing is supposed to work both ways.”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll call you.”

“I’m counting on it. Now, go wait for Elizabeth’s call because you won’t be able to concentrate until she talks to Monica.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Anna knew she was walking into a tough place, returning to the PCPD after a decade away—most of which she’d spent being dead, she reflected ironically as she set a photograph of herself and Robin on the desk, smiling at her daughter’s face.

She’d seen a lot of resentful glares she’d walked in that morning, but Anna wasn’t scared of hard work and didn’t mind dealing with idiots. She was used to it, after all. While Mac was a good man who had tried hard to do a good job, he hadn’t been strong enough to speak truth to power.

That had never been a problem for Anna.

She spent her morning arranging her office and catching up on open cases—spending time grimacing at the budget for Organized Crime and being pleased with the improvements in Major Crimes.

She glanced up around eleven when Taggert came in, a uniformed officer trailing behind him. She got to her feet, removed her glasses, and extended her hand. “Lieutenant, it’s nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Taggert said, shaking her hand. “This is Cruz Rodriguez. He was one of the rookies that started last summer.”

“Ah, yes, you’re being fast-tracked for detective status,” Anna said with a smile. “I read over the Lansing file for this morning. You did good work.”

“I sat in a car—”

“Really? Is that all?” Anna picked up a memo, put her glasses on again. “Was the Lieutenant incorrect when he said you ‘provided essential input in making sure that the investigation stayed targeted on Ric Lansing and absolved his wife of any prior knowledge?’”

“Uh—”

“Or that ‘Officer Rodriguez displayed courage and conviction when challenging superior officers on the complicity of Elizabeth Webber, not allowing prior biases to interfere, using facts to correctly ascertain that Ms. Webber and Mr. Morgan were working together to investigate the kidnapping, not cover it up?’” Anna set the report down. “Was the Lieutenant mistaken?”

“I—” Cruz frowned, looked at Taggert. “Um. I wouldn’t have written it that way, but I guess I did tell Capelli he was wrong a few times.”

“Which he was. You didn’t just sit in the car, Rodriguez,” Taggert told him.

“In any case, Lieutenant Taggert speaks very highly of all three of the rookie officers on his squad, and I’ve been impressed by the reports I’ve read from Major Crimes. Scott Baldwin has also been very happy with the cases turned over in the last six months,” Anna said as Taggert and Cruz took seats in front of her desk. “If only Organized Crime were doing as well—” She raised her brows at Taggert. “Any hope of getting you back over there to clean things up?”

“Uh, not at the moment, no. I was…burnt out,” Taggert said. “Too many years chasing Corinthos—I forgot why I was here.”

“Fair enough. The reason I wanted to speak with you today was the Lansing case. I understand that we’ve had a source passing us information about his potential whereabouts.” Anna tapped her pencil. “Have you learned anything that isn’t in these reports?”

“Only that there was another potential sighting in Caracas—the El Recreo Shopping Mall—but by the time it gets to us, it’s usually a day or two old,” Taggert said. “Mac told us you’d been working with Interpol on this even before taking over.”

“That’s true. I’ll pass the new Caracas info over to Interpol, and see what they can find out, but I think it’s time to let this case ago.”

Cruz tensed. “Let it go?” he repeated.

Taggert hesitated. “Commissioner—”

“Anna, please.” Anna sighed. “I understand how difficult this case was for the department—I read the coverage as well. I also know how dangerous Ric Lansing is. Or was. I assure you — I don’t make this decision lightly. But all evidence suggests he is out of the country.” Anna raised her brows. “Is there any point in pretending this case isn’t already cold?”

“No, but—” Taggert exhaled slowly. “No. I just…” He looked at Cruz, who also seemed more upset than Anna might have expected.

“It’s personal,” Cruz admitted. “It was—it was my first case. And I was there when we found Carly—when—”

“When Elizabeth Webber had her health crisis. I didn’t—” Anna bit her lip. “I realize there is a personal aspect to all of this, but—”

“Right after the Lansing case, the park rapes—that blew up—and Elizabeth was part of it almost from the beginning,” Taggert told her. “She didn’t know that, but I was investigating her case almost from the day Brooke Lynn Ashton was attacked. I know you’re right. Lansing’s long gone, and it’s a job for international authorities at this point, but saying that—putting the case on the shelf—”

“It’s like letting her down again,” Anna said after a moment. “Because you didn’t do more to catch Ric and find Carly earlier—because she nearly died. And what happened originally with her case. I understand that.”

“But you’re right.” Taggert rubbed his face. “The case is cold. So…let’s…let’s put it away. For now.”

Ward House: Entry Way

Justus could hear laughter and music from the kitchen the moment he entered the house. He stood there for a moment, his briefcase in his hand, his jacket still on, and just listened to the sounds of his wife and daughter making dinner. He heard a third voice singing along with Jill Scott, and Justus remembered why his sister-in-law was there.

And what today was.

He hung up the jacket and left the briefcase in the hallway, hurrying back to see his girls.

“Daddy!” Kimi proclaimed from her booster seat. He swung her into his arms, then leaned over to kiss his wife.

“Hey, did you sign it?” he asked with a smile.

Tamika looked over at her younger sister, Portia Robinson, and smirked. “I told you he didn’t forget.”

“I never said he would,” Portia said with a sniff. She stirred the sauce on the stove. “And yes—” Her smirk blossomed into a grin. “We signed it! Portia’s Closet is officially coming to Port Charles!”

“And Aunt Portia, too!” Kimi said. She put her hands on Justus’s cheeks so he’d look at her. “Just in time for Santa!” She wiggled, and Justus put her down so Kimi could hug her aunt’s legs. “Miss you.”

“Miss you, too, sweets.”

“Did you really remember?” Tamika murmured under her breath as Justus slid an arm around her waist.

“Not until I heard Portia,” Justus admitted. “It’s—it’s been a long day.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “But I’m home now.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

He hesitated. “Maybe later.” When his wife just frowned at him, Justus added, “Definitely later. I just—I need to take a minute. Let’s celebrate. We’ll open that wine Elizabeth and Jason gave us.”

“Already pulled it out and opened it to let it breathe.” Tamika kissed his cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Harborview Towers: Hallway

Jason stepped off the elevator and started to turn towards his penthouse, wanting to check on Elizabeth—

But he stopped just before he turned the corner, took a deep breath, then went in the opposite direction. He couldn’t put this off anymore.

He nodded at Max, standing in the doorway as usual. “Hey. I guess Sonny’s here?”

“Yeah, he got home a few hours ago. Hasn’t come out.” Max hesitated. “Uh, Jase, is there something I should be doing? I mean…” The guard looked towards the closed door, then swallowed. “Last night was a lot.”

“I know.” Jason paused. “I guess, at this point, could you give me a heads up if he leaves? Or goes over to see Carly? Just so I can—” Prepare. Get ready to do damage control or step in—Jason didn’t really know what he wanted—

“Yeah, sure, sure.” Max knocked then and pushed open the door. “Hey, Mr. C. Jason’s here.”

Jason went in and found Sonny in the living room, drinking a tumbler of bourbon—like usual. Like nothing had happened.

“Hey. How did the meeting go?” Sonny asked. He set the tumbler on the minibar. “Did Bernie or Justus have anything?”

Jason squinted at him, then shook his head slightly. “No. Still nothing. But he’s in South America, obviously. Not here.”

“Until one of our guys lays eyes on him, I’m not ready to accept that,” Sonny told him with a scowl. “The sooner I get Ric out of the picture, the sooner Carly will get over this.”

“Get over this,” Jason repeated.

“And look, can you talk to Elizabeth for me?” Sonny asked. He picked the bourbon up again, sipped it. “If she doesn’t forgive me, she’ll just keep badmouthing me to Carly, making her think I need help.”

“You—” Jason bit off the retort, fisted his hand at his side to help him keep his temper in check. “I talked to Carly. You might want to consider what she’s asking, Sonny.”

“Oh, don’t start—”

“You were thinking about it last summer,” Jason reminded him. “After Carly got home—you need to do something—I can’t do this again—”

“Then get Carly and Elizabeth to get back down about this stupid trial,” Sonny told him, flatly. “Carly and I can’t argue about Ric if he’s dead. She understands I wanted to keep her safe. She’s just afraid I’ll do it again if she comes home.”

“I—” Jason didn’t have the words, didn’t have the first clue how to convince Sonny that it was Carly who was right—that it was insane to suggest that Carly’s only problem was that Ric was still alive.

And because he didn’t know what to do, Jason did nothing. There was no point in wasting his breath when the woman he loved was sitting at home alone. All he wanted to do was sit with her and make sure she was okay.

“I’m not having this argument with you,” Jason told him. “Carly will do what’s right for her. But she’s right. You need more help than I can give you,” he added when Sonny gave him a dark look. “And it’s not up to me to tell Elizabeth to forgive anyone. You put your hands on her, Sonny. You know what she’s been through—you know she’s pregnant—and you still shoved her. What if Bernie hadn’t been there? What if she’d fallen?”

Sonny stared at him, a bit blankly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, you didn’t. But you still did it. And if you don’t think that’s a problem, I can’t force you to see it either. Good night.”

When he reached the door of his penthouse, he stopped in front of Cody. “If Elizabeth is alone at home,” Jason began, “don’t let Sonny in.”

Cody frowned at him. “What?”

“Just—for right now,” Jason told him, putting up his hand to make it clear it wasn’t up for debate.

“Okay.”

Inside, Elizabeth was sorting through a stack of magazines, then smiled when he came in. “Hey.”

Jason sat next to her, leaned over to kiss her. “Hey,” he murmured against her mouth. He brushed his hand down the back of her head, sliding his fingers through hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she told him. She held out her hand. “Want to check?”

“No, I trust—” Jason winced, then took her wrist. “I trust you,” he finished almost on a mutter but started to take her pulse anyway. It was normal again, and something inside eased. “Sorry.”

“I know. Sometimes it’s not about what I’m saying, it’s about how you’re feeling.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand. “I came home, I drank more water. Monica said everything is fine until tomorrow, and Cody sent someone for dinner when you called to let me know you’d be late—”

“Capelli’s trying to get a raid on the warehouse approved for this weekend,” Jason said with a wince. “I’m sorry—”

Stop apologizing. You called,” she reminded him. “I wasn’t worried. Plus, Emily came over for dinner, and she dropped off these magazines for me to start going through—”

He looked at the magazines, realized they were wedding related. Jason scrubbed a hand down his face, then sighed. “I know I suggested the end of January, but maybe—”

“We are not waiting until after the baby is born,” Elizabeth told him. “At least—” She bit her lip. “Not unless Kelly or Monica think we should. Emily said she’d try to do a lot of it on her breaks, and I know Bobbie would help. Plus, maybe it would distract Carly—I could delegate a lot of this, Jason—”

Jason pressed a thumb to her lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“You didn’t—” Elizabeth sighed. “I just…don’t want to wait. Now that we’re doing this—I just want to get on with our lives, you know? You, me, married. That’s—that’s the dream.” She searched his eyes. “Isn’t it? Is it so bad to want to get to the part where we’re living it? Not waiting?”

“No.” He kissed her again. “No. I want to be married to you, too.” Jason drew her against him, nodded at the magazines. “So, what kind of wedding are we looking at?”

This entry is part 12 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

My feel for you, boy, is decaying in front of me
Like the carrion of a murdered prey
And all I want is to save you, honey
Or the strength to walk away
Carrion, Fiona Apple


Tuesday, December 9, 2003

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Despite Elizabeth’s shorter legs, Jason still found himself two or three strides behind her as she threw open the penthouse door—Carly had started screaming again, and he could make out the words—

She was screaming his name, screaming for Sonny—

Screaming for someone to let her out.

Jason couldn’t think, couldn’t put words to what he knew Sonny must have done—he’d seen red the moment Sonny had put his hands on Elizabeth—shoving her back—he’d nearly gone after his best friend and partner—

And then that scream—that sound of pure terror—he remembered it—he’d heard it on the phone the day Carly had been rescued. As the panic room had opened, as he drove back towards the house—he could hear her screaming at Elizabeth to push the button, watching as they searched on the monitors—her voice pouring out of the soundproof room as the door had slid open, revealing the nightmare hidden within.

He finally caught up to Elizabeth in the hallway outside of the bedroom, twisting the knob—she turned to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s locked—she stopped screaming, I can’t—”

Jason swore, gently pushed her aside, intending bust into the bedroom himself when he heard footsteps thundering up—Justus and Bernie—and Sonny, followed by Max and Cody.

“You can’t let her out—” Sonny grabbed Jason’s arm, pushed him into the wall. “She’s not safe. She’ll leave!”

Elizabeth tried to call to Carly, tried to tell her they were there—but the room was silent. The screams had stopped.

There was nothing.

“Jason—” She looked at him. “We have—”

“Sonny—” Jason pushed his partner back, took him by the shoulders, then shook him. “Where’s the key?”

“You can’t—”

“Damn it—” He looked at Max and Cody. “Hold him back.” Then he shoved Sonny at them—Max grabbed him, and Cody put himself between Sonny and the bedroom. Jason went back to the bedroom door, then with all of his strength—crashed through it, the door splintering in pieces. Jason pushed them aside, shoving his way into the room.

He looked around the room, trying to find Carly—trying to see past the wreckage of the room. Clothes, hangers, and shoes were everywhere—

“There—”

Elizabeth darted under his arm and found Carly in the corner, between the nightstand and the wall, her head tucked her into her knees, curled into a ball. “Carly, we’re here—”

She knelt down in front of Carly, but Carly just lifted her head, stared at her. Her eyes were blank. Unseeing. “You have to go,” Carly hissed. “He’ll come back. He’ll come back. He’s hurting you.” She reached out, grabbed Elizabeth’s arm, digging her nails into the skin. “Don’t drink the water! Stop drinking it!”

Jason swore, then turned around to head off Sonny, who had broken away from Max and Cody. Justus and Bernie remained in the hallway, stunned—

Rumors of Sonny’s instability had circulated for years, but—

Sonny’s fury had evaporated somehow—with the door busted open, it seemed as if he’d lost all will to fight. “She’s not safe,” he said dully, staring at his wife. It wasn’t needed, but Cody stepped in front of him, stopping him from going near Elizabeth or Carly again.

“Jason, we need to get her out of here,” Elizabeth told him as he knelt down, trying to peel Carly’s hands from Elizabeth’s arm. “Keep Sonny back.” She looked at Carly. “I won’t drink the water, Carly. Thank you. You’re right. You saved my life. Thank you,” she said again, rubbing Carly’s arm. “Let’s go—let’s go home. Okay? Come with me now. I’ll take care of you.”

Carly blinked then, and the terrible blankness seemed to dissipate. She looked around, saw the door— “Couldn’t get out. Couldn’t leave.” She looked at Jason. “No windows.”

Gently, Jason put his hands beneath Carly’s elbows and lifted her to her feet. The blonde gently swayed but stayed upright.

“She can’t…” Sonny swallowed hard. Blinked rapidly, looked around the room, looked at the door. Looked at the corner of the room—the other corner, opposite of Carly. “Not safe.”

“Can you walk?” Elizabeth asked Carly, looping one of Carly’s arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve got her,” Jason started, but Elizabeth shook her head.

“No. Make sure he doesn’t follow us. Justus—” she looked at the lawyer. “Justus, can you call Bobbie? Ask her to come over. Don’t upset her, but make it clear she has to come. Call Laura, tell her she needs to keep the boys a little longer.”

“Yeah.” Justus cleared his throat, stepping aside as Carly and Elizabeth made their way into the hallway. Carly seemed lucid now but moved as if she were sleepwalking.

“Cody,” Jason said, his eyes on a confused Sonny. “Go with them. Make sure they get down the stairs.”

“Got it.” Cody glanced at Sonny another moment, then followed.

“Couldn’t leave,” Carly said as Elizabeth put one of the blonde’s hands on the railing. She curled her fingers around it, clung to it. Then she looked at Elizabeth, her eyes feverish and over-bright. “You didn’t drink the water?”

“Not today,” Elizabeth told her.

“Okay. Okay. You should—you should leave him,” Carly said. She stopped on a step, just before the landing, closing her eyes. Swayed slightly.

“You’re right. I should have listened to you.” Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder, realizing Justus, Bernie and Cody were all following a few steps behind, Justus quietly on the phone.

After what seemed like hours, they finally made it across the hallway into the other penthouse. She helped Carly sit down, then all but collapsed next to her. Elizabeth’s legs were shaking from exertion, and her own lungs were starting to burn. She hadn’t thought, hadn’t given any consideration to her own health—

Those screams—the sound of it had dragged her back to that terrible day—Carly’s cries had been the last thing Elizabeth fully remembered before passing out.

“We need—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, fisted her hands in her laps. “We need something to drink.” She paused. “Not water.” Carly might lose it again if she saw Elizabeth drinking water.

“Elizabeth,” Justus said, closing the door behind them, leaving Cody on the door in the hallway. “You don’t look good. Let me go over, deal with Sonny—”

“N-No, I just need—” She gestured at the dark bag by the desk. “My oxygen tank.”

“I’ll go to the kitchen—” Bernie volunteered, and Justus rushed over to get the oxygen.

“I’m…” Carly looked around, looked at the windows, then looked at her hands. “I’m okay.” She looked at Elizabeth, her eyes flaring as Justus handed her the bag, and Elizabeth fumbled. She brushed aside the tube and grabbed the oxygen mask. It was faster. . “You—you said he didn’t hurt you.”

“Not today,” Elizabeth managed. Justus brushed her shaking fingers aside, fitting the mask over her face. She switched the tank on just before the crisis hit. Within a minute or two, her lungs could expand again.

“Not today.” Carly closed her eyes. “It’s not today. It was before.” Her hands were shaking as she pressed them to her face. “Oh, God. It’s not today. I’m okay. I’m okay. My baby—I couldn’t find my baby—I thought he stole my baby—”

Tears streaked down her face as Carly lurched off the sofa, wild eyes looking at Justus. “Where’s my baby? Does he have him?—”

“Carly—” Justus crossed the room, took her by the arms to keep her still. “Look at me. It’s December. Morgan is great. He was borne healthy, and Laura Spencer is babysitting him.” He locked eyes with her. “Look at me. Just breathe. It’s December. You—you were rescued. Ric isn’t here to hurt you.”

“Not here.” Carly took a deep breath, closed her eyes again, then opened them. “It’s—we were at the hearing.” She looked at Elizabeth. “We came home.” She pressed her hands to her face. “I wanted to leave. I was angry. And—Sonny—Oh, God. He locked me in. He trapped me in that room. No windows,” she repeated. “No way out.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Bernie asked Elizabeth softly. He handed her a glass of iced tea. “What’s—are you all right? I should get Jason—”

“I know better than to push myself like that,” Elizabeth told him. “I’m fine. Sometimes I have trouble breathing, and if I don’t pay attention, I can start to hyperventilate. Oxygen helps.” She looked at Carly, who seemed calmer. “As for Carly—” Another tear slid down her cheek. “It’s Acute Stress Disorder. She’s having a dissociative episode.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason didn’t know what to say to Sonny—how to even process what had just happened. He’d seen Sonny hit rock bottom before—at least he’d thought he’d seen the bottom before—

But this—the last twenty minutes—

He looked at Sonny, who had sat at the end of the bed, his eyes unseeing, his face facing the wall. “I won’t ask what you were thinking. I doubt you could tell me.”

“I just—” Sonny stared at his hands. “I needed her to be safe.” His voice was hoarse, roughened. He looked at Jason, the whites of his eyes crisscrossed with red. “She was going to leave. She’s not safe out there.”

“Ric is long gone, Sonny. In South America—”

“Not just Ric. You—you saw what happened to Elizabeth, to all the other girls—it’s not safe.” Sonny shook his head. “She wasn’t here last week. And I—I couldn’t find her. Couldn’t find the boys.” He lunged off the bed, heading for the door. “Where are they? Where the boys?”

Jason swallowed hard, held up his hands to keep Sonny from charging past him. He shoved his partner back. “They’re with Laura Spencer. She’s babysitting them, remember?”

“Where’s—” Sonny took a deep breath, closed his eyes. “Carly’s with Elizabeth. She’s still in the building.” He looked at his hands. “Elizabeth,” he repeated. “I—” He frowned at Jason, his dark eyes bewildered. “Did I hurt her?”

“I—” Jason exhaled slowly. “Yeah. You pushed her. She was coming to get Carly. You wanted to stop her. Sonny, you locked Carly in a room with no windows. Do you know what you did?”

“I had to stop her from leaving—” Sonny scrubbed his hands over his face. “I locked her in. I trapped her.”

“You know she’s—that she has Acute Stress Disorder. That what you did brought it back—you just put her through the same—” Jason bit off his angry words, swallowed the bitterness. It wouldn’t make a difference, and he didn’t want to be here, cleaning up after him. “You need to sleep, Sonny.”

“What?” Sonny blinked at him. “Sleep—”

Jason turned, hearing Max’s footsteps. The guard held a black kit in his hand—the same kit Bobbie had used that summer. He took it from him, then looked back at Sonny. “You always feel better after some sleep.”

“Sleep,” Sonny repeated. He nodded. “Right. I’ll sleep, and then I can—” He turned, gestured at the room. “I can make everything better tomorrow.”

While Sonny’s back was turned, Jason quietly filled the syringe with the sedative, then handed the kit back to Max.

When Sonny looked at Jason again, his arm waving in the air—Jason grabbed the arm and quickly plunged the needle—

“What—” Sonny scowled, but Jason was already done before he could process it or struggle. He staggered back, looking at Jason. “What did you do—”

Then his words slurred, and he started to sway. Before he collapsed on the ground, Jason and Max maneuvered him to the bed, where he fell flat on his face.

“Go over with Mrs. C and Miss Webber,” Max said. He met Jason’s eyes. “I got this. It’s not the first time.”

“No, I know,” Jason muttered. He dragged a hand over his face. “Do me a favor, though. Put some things together for Carly. Just—I don’t know—” He looked around the room. “Something,” he said after a minute. “She’s not coming back.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

By the time Jason returned home, Bernie had left, wanting to give them some space. Bobbie must have sped over—because she was sitting on the sofa with Carly, who was pale but looked more alert.

“Jason.” Bobbie got to her feet, rushed over to hug him tightly. He could feel the older woman trembling—whether from anger or fear, he couldn’t tell. “Elizabeth went upstairs to change. Don’t get worried—but she needed the mask again,” she told him as she drew back.

Jason scowled as Bobbie returned to Carly, looked at Justus. “What happened?”

“She said she just moved too fast,” Justus told him, coming over to the desk. “She got something to drink, we got the tank—and she’s okay. I walked her upstairs just to be sure.” He looked at Jason. “What the hell are we going to do?”

“He was sedated for the night. I didn’t—” Jason hesitated. “It’s what we always do when he’s like this,” he admitted. “What we did last July. I can’t—we’ll deal with the rest of it tomorrow.”

Justus looked like he might argue but then nodded with a scowl. “Okay. Okay. I’ll go. We’ll—” He looked back at Carly, pale and worn out, tears staining her cheeks—her hands still shaking. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

He closed the door behind him as Jason walked over to Carly and Bobbie, sat in the armchair—frowning at the sight of the oxygen mask on the table. She’d needed it three times today—that wasn’t great, but it had been a demanding day, and he wasn’t going to worry about it right now.

He looked at Carly. “I—” Words failed him, and Jason shook his head.

“I’m okay,” Carly told him, her voice broken, hoarse from the screaming. “Mama’s here. And you—” Fresh tears lingered in her lashes. “You got me out again—you and Elizabeth. I don’t—it’s all—it’s all kind of a blur—I thought I was in the panic room. I thought Ric had Morgan—” She closed her eyes. “I thought it was happening again.”

“That’s the disorder,” Bobbie murmured to her. “You relived the trauma because…because you were forced to.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Kevin said that might happen—um, I want to go. Can we—” Carly clenched her mother’s hands. “Please. I want to go. I want my boys—”

“Lucas went to get them from Laura,” Bobbie promised her. “They might even be at the Brownstone already.” She got to her feet, helping Carly stand. “We’ll get your things later.”

“I’ll walk down with you—” Jason said, also rising, but Carly shook her head.

“No, no—that’s—” She looked at him, reached out with her hand to squeeze his. “I’m okay. Elizabeth—I saw the mask. I think she used it.” She frowned at Bobbie. “Didn’t she?”

“She did,” Bobbie told her gently. “Jason, you should go check on her. You’ll feel better.” Her eyes hardened. “And we’ll deal with everything tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Jason swallowed, then followed them to the door. He opened it. “Cody, walk Carly and her mother downstairs. Make sure they get home, okay? You’re done for the night.”

“Are you sure?” Cody asked hesitantly. “You and Miss Webber don’t need anything?”

“I’ve got it, thanks.” Then Jason closed the door, grabbed the portable tank, then went upstairs.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth was standing by the window when Jason came upstairs, dressed in one of his old t-shirts and a pair of loose cotton pants. Her hair had been pulled back off her face into a messy knot on the top of her head, and she’d cleaned her face, removing her make up.

She turned when he pushed open the door and flicked on a lamp on his dresser. “Hey. Carly and Bobbie leave?”

“Yeah.” He crossed the room; she met him halfway and let him take her into his arms. “Justus said you needed the oxygen?”

“I’m okay,” Elizabeth promised, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “I wasn’t thinking. I just—I heard her scream—”

“I know.” Jason slid his fingers through her hair. “Carly seemed okay when I got back—I mean, she knew where she was.”

“It took her a bit, but by the time Bobbie came, she was better.” Elizabeth drew back, then pulled Jason’s hand over to sit on the edge of the bed. “What about Sonny?”

“Sedated him,” Jason said shortly. “No point in arguing with him when he’s like this. It’s—it was almost like last summer. When he was hallucinating Lily and thought she was blaming him for Carly, for everything that happened—he slept and was okay the next day—”

“He’s not okay,” Elizabeth said shortly. She folded her arms, looked at him with worry. “I—I know you told me about it when it happened, but this was different, Jason. He only hurt himself the last time.”

“I know—” He took her arm in his hand, wincing as he brushed his hands over the scratches left by Carly’s nails, but there was no evidence of Sonny’s shove. “He remembered pushing you. He was sorry.”

“I’m sure he was. But it’s escalating, Jason. He locked Carly in their bedroom—”

“I know that—” Jason stopped, then looked away with a shake of his head. “I know,” he repeated, more quietly. “But I don’t know what else to do. What to say to Carly. What to say to him.” He looked at her, and she sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“I just—I hate that Carly had to go back to that—that she was locked in a room again, and we couldn’t get her out. We couldn’t stop it from happening. Again.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Last year, I blamed myself. For getting pregnant. For marrying Ric. For making him think—I know it’s not my fault—what he did, I mean. What he wanted to do. But I still think I could have done something to stop it. And this time—we knew she was feeling that way, Jason. And we just let it happen.”

“I—” Jason grimaced, looked away. “ This isn’t on you. You wanted to do more. I didn’t do enough. I didn’t—after he fired Leticia, after he broke his promise about getting her a driver—I should have stepped in with Sonny. More than I did.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.

“And I should have told Bobbie what happened last week because I know Carly didn’t,” Elizabeth said. She touched his hand, drew it into her lap, and waited until he looked at her. “I’m sorry. They’re your family. Your best friends. I wish we could fix this.”

“Thank God you were there tonight.” Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her to him a rough hug, then kissed her. “I don’t know if I—I didn’t know how to help her. I couldn’t—”

“You would have managed it,” she said softly. “But we got her out. And she’s—she’ll be okay.”

“Was—” Jason hesitated. He didn’t continue until she met his eyes. “Was that—was it like that for you?”

“For me?” Elizabeth furrowed her brow, shook her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You—last year. You said—” Jason gestured with his hand. “You had this after the crypt.” His mouth tightened. “The night you left—you said you had an episode. Was it like tonight?”

“I—you mean, did I lose track of time and place?” Elizabeth asked slowly. “Not—not the way Carly did. She—her trigger—her trauma, it’s different.”

“The dark. Small spaces?” Jason pressed. “Being trapped? That’s not so different.”

“No, I guess not. Um…” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s—I haven’t had a panic attack in—”

“In a few hours,” Jason said softly.

Irritated at that reminder, she stood up and walked back to the window. “It’s not the same,” she muttered. “It’s medical now. Okay? I have panic attacks because I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe because of what Ric did.”

“Elizabeth—”

“The last time I had anything like what happened tonight to Carly was in July.” She turned to look at him. “The night we talked about Tom Baker. So, yeah, I guess—it was like that for me. I don’t really know. No one saw me during the attacks. No one except—” She bit her lip, dipped her head. “Is that why you’re asking? Because I told you I was having a panic attack the night of the blackout?”

“Maybe,” Jason said. He stood, but stayed behind at the bed. “I was looking at Carly tonight, and I didn’t—I didn’t think about last summer with the letter. I was thinking if you were like that when it happened to you a year ago—”

“Then why would Zander think I wanted to sleep with him?” Elizabeth finished his thought when he broke off. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jason. I don’t think he knew what I was going through. I never told him. I—” She sighed, picked at the carpet with her toe. “What good does it do to talk about it now? You didn’t want to then.”

“I—”

Elizabeth met his eyes again. “The truth is that I don’t remember. I remember the lights going out, trying to leave, hearing footsteps, and being scared. Zander must have found me then, but I didn’t know it was him. I thought it was you. You were supposed to come back. I think he kissed me, but it’s not all that clear. ”

Jason exhaled slowly. “I did come back,” he said quietly. But it had been too late. And he’d walked away—he should have done something—said something—

“Yeah, well…” Elizabeth looked back towards the window. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “I got trapped in the elevator a few weeks later, and I didn’t really remember that either. I barely remember that night in the penthouse. So…I don’t know. Maybe I knew it was him, maybe I thought it was you. I can’t tell you.” She exhaled slowly. “I just know it’s over. I’d really like it to be over.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then held her hand up, looking at the ring he’d put on her finger. “I made a mistake that night. Whether I knew it in the moment it was Zander I was kissing, or when I let you walk out the door without telling you I was mad at you for leaving to take care of Sonny and Carly—I should have just been more honest. It’s over. You said you wanted to wait until I testified to ask me to marry you. Because you wanted to close the door on that part of our life. To turn the page.”

“I do.”

“That’s what I want to do. What happened last year, Jason, it just doesn’t matter to me anymore. Does it matter to you?” She searched his eyes. “Because I think we both know we made mistakes. But we’re together now. I trust you. With my heart, my body—with everything.”

She touched his cheek. “Today, I closed the door on my rape. And now I want us to do the same for last year. I don’t want to think about it again. Not Ric, not Zander—or God, even Courtney. There’s just now. And what happens next. Can—can that be enough?”

“Yeah.” Jason brushed a piece of her hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry. It was just hard to see Carly like that. I couldn’t help her. And I couldn’t help you this summer, either. I can’t stand knowing you were in pain, and I couldn’t make it stop.”

“You did make it stop.” Elizabeth took her hands in his, squeezed. “But more importantly, I made it stop. I don’t need you to fix me, Jason. And that’s not what Carly needs. I just need you to love me.”

“I do. I do love you.” He leaned down, kissed her, then rested her forehead against his. “You’re right. It’s over. It can’t be changed, and we’re here now. Tomorrow—we’ll figure out what’s next.”

Wednesday, December 10, 2003

Brownstone: Bedroom

When Carly woke up the next morning, she laid in her bed for a long time, staring out the window at the dull gray light filtering in through her curtains.

She couldn’t really remember most of the previous night—she knew they’d come back from Syracuse, they’d argued—

And then it was patchy. She’d been screaming, clawing at a door—then she’d been at Jason and Elizabeth’s—

And now she was here.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and Carly rolled over to see her mother gingerly opening the door a crack. “Carly, I just wanted to let you know there’s coffee if you need it.”

Carly slowly sat up, scooting back to rest against the headboard. She looked at Bobbie, felt nothing. Felt…empty inside.

“Carly?” Bobbie said again. She walked into the room, perched at the edge of the bed. “Michael’s left for school. Lucas and Felix dropped him off on their way to the PCU campus.”

“Oh.” Carly cleared her throat, smoothed her hands over the comforter crumbled in her lap. She frowned at them. The nails were broken—bitten down to the quick. “Um. Thank you. How—weren’t they—” She met Bobbie’s eyes, frowned slightly. “They weren’t at the penthouse last night.”

“No. Laura was with them while we went to the hearing. Remember? Lulu suggested it because she and her friends wanted to protest outside. Lucas picked them up, brought them here last night.”

“Oh. Um, thank you. I mean…I should tell him thank you.” Carly told herself to get out of bed, to get moving, but she couldn’t quite manage it.

“Should I call Kevin?” Bobbie asked.

“No—” Carly hesitated. “No,” she said more firmly. “I think—I think I just—I need to think. Um, I don’t—it’s—” She focused on her mother. “Sonny—he—he locked me in the penthouse. I mean, in the bedroom. Didn’t he? It’s—I can’t—it’s all jumbled up in my head,” she admitted. “I thought I was in the panic room. Elizabeth was there—she—I thought Ric had locked her in with me—no, I thought she had water in her hand.”

“She and Jason heard you screaming from their place,” Bobbie told her. “They came over to get you. Jason broke down the door and held Sonny back while Elizabeth helped you over to their place to wait for me. That’s why you remember her.”

“Oh. I should—I should thank them. Um, she’s—” Carly closed her eyes. “She’s okay? I feel like she’s not. I don’t know—I don’t know if it’s because I remember what happened back in July, and it feels like now, or if it’s because of yesterday—”

“She’s all right. She had some trouble breathing, but that’s just because of the adrenaline. It sometimes happens when she pushes herself too hard. But she’s just fine, Carly.” Bobbie took Carly’s hand in hers. “You’re okay, too. You got out. And you don’t have to go back.”

“I thought—” Her stomach rolled as Carly tried to force herself to continue speaking. “I thought I didn’t have to go back before. I can’t—” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can make it go away again.”

“I’ll call Kevin—”

“No—” Carly shook her head. “No, don’t. No. There’s—I know what happened. And I remember how to make it better. I can—I’m okay, Mama. The boys? They’re okay?”

She shoved back the covers, got to her feet. “Michael—he’s in school?”

“Yes. And I fed Morgan with the milk you left for Laura. He’s napping.” Bobbie took Carly by the shoulders. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I’m—I’m okay.” Carly sank back onto the bed. “But what you really want to know is what I’m going to do. Am I going back?”

“Yes.” Bobbie lifted her chin. “I knew if Sonny didn’t get help months ago, that his issues were just going to come back. Jason’s been covering them for years—he’s still doing it. Look what Sonny did to you last night. Who’s next, Carly?”

“I—” Carly’s mouth was dry as she tried to answer that question, tried to process things. “I never thought he’d hurt me,” she murmured. “He thought he was keeping me safe. He couldn’t see what he was doing was wrong. He never would put his hands on anyone—not a woman, I mean. He’s—you’re right.” She rubbed her cheek, exhausted. “He needs help. And I can’t fix it. I can’t make it go away anymore. And neither can Jason. Something has to change. And I can’t go back until it does.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“I’m going to have lunch with Emily today,” Elizabeth called over her shoulder as Jason took their breakfast dishes into the kitchen. After the turmoil of the night before, she was determined to strike a lighter note. “Can I tell her we’re getting married, or do you want to do that together?”

Jason returned, another cup of coffee in his hands, frowning slightly. “No, you can tell her.” He sat back down, kissed her forehead. “Are you going to the mansion?”

“Yeah, Emily said Lila wanted to catch-up about yesterday, and I want to check on Lois. Lila invited her, too. So I’ll get it over with now.” Elizabeth twisted her ring on her finger, smiling at him. “You know what they’re going to ask? Lila and Emily? And Edward?”

“Uh—well, having met the Quartermaines, they’re probably going to ask when.” Jason sipped his coffee, leaned back as she grinned at him. “Or is that you asking me, and pretending you’re doing it for them?”

“It can be both,” she said, with a careless shrug. “My divorce is final at the end of January.” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to get married in February. I just—” She looked at him. “And if we wait until March, I’ll be as big as a house.”

“I don’t care about that—”

“I do,” Elizabeth muttered. “I’m going to have to look at those pictures for the rest of my life.” She went over to his desk and looked at the calendar that sat there. She flipped through the pages. “We…I guess we could wait until after the baby is born. Maybe May?” She wrinkled her nose. “No. Because May is when I married Ric, and I don’t want that either. And you were supposed to marry Courtney in June—”

“Elizabeth—” Jason raised his brows. “Let me guess. July is out, too?”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“No. I’m not. I just—” He hesitated. “It’s not that it doesn’t matter to me. It does,” he promised her. “It’s supposed to be a good day. And if you’re thinking about the wrong things, then it’s not worth it just to get it done. So you don’t want to get married before the baby—”

“But I do,” she insisted. “I just don’t know how we can manage it. It’s already December 10. I’m halfway through this thing, and if you suggest we get married at city hall, I might set you on fire—” She narrowed her eyes.

“I wasn’t going to say anything like that. Your divorce is final on January 27, isn’t it?” Jason asked. He rose and joined her at the desk, flipping back to January. “That’s a Tuesday. Let’s get married that Saturday. We need, what, a three day waiting period with the license? We’ll get it on Wednesday.”

Elizabeth frowned at him, then looked at the calendar date. “January 31.”

“Not February,” he pointed out.

“No, I guess you’re right about that,” she murmured. She’d still be twenty-seven weeks pregnant, but not quite as bad as she’d be in March— Elizabeth smiled at him. “January 31 it is.” She leaned forward to kiss him. “Thank you. For understanding.”

“Well—”

Jason’s reply was cut off when there was a knock on the door. Jason frowned, glanced at his watch. Cody’s shift didn’t start until ten—it was only nine. He sighed, set the coffee down, and went to see who it was.

He looked back at Elizabeth with a heavy sigh, some of the lightness sliding out of him. “It’s Sonny.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth pressed her lips together. She got to her feet, folded her arms. “I’ll go upstairs,” she said, moving towards the stairs.

“Just—just wait—” Jason held up a hand, and she stopped. Then he opened the door. “Sonny.” He cast his eyes over his friend and partner. Sonny looked exhausted, but he’d showered and shaved, looked more like his normal self. “Hey.”

“Uh, hey. So I—” Sonny’s mouth tightened when Jason didn’t move away from the doorway, didn’t let him in. He glanced past him, saw Elizabeth standing by the sofa. “I know I had…I had some problems yesterday.”

“Some problems,” Jason said slowly. “You locked your wife in her bedroom after she’d been trapped in a panic room for a week.”

Sonny winced, looked away. “Yeah. I—It seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” he muttered. “But obviously it was—it was not.” He rubbed his face.

Jason didn’t need to look behind him to know that Elizabeth was probably glaring at Sonny—or worse, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sonny. You broke Carly’s trust. She’s not here. She’s at the Brownstone, and I wouldn’t bother trying to see her because Bobbie will kill you.” Jason raised his brows. “And I’m not kidding about that.”

“I just—I was wrong. And—I lost it for a little bit there. It won’t happen again. I mean it—I—Carly can—she can take care of herself. Obviously, I can’t—” He grimaced. “I’ll let her figure out how to…how to handle this. I just—I needed you to know that I know it was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

He glanced past Jason, and Jason turned to see Elizabeth—still standing in the same spot, not coming near Sonny. “And I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I don’t—I don’t remember it, but I know I pushed you. You were just—you were trying to help Carly. Like you did last summer. And I got in your way. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth flicked her eyes at Jason, trying to gauge his reaction, and he sighed because he knew she’d try to make this better for him—that she’d do what Jason wanted her to do to ease any tension between Jason and Sonny. “I understand. It…it was a lot. And I know you…” She bit her lip. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose,” she finished.

“Okay. Okay. Thank you. I appreciate that.” He looked at Jason. “I’m sorry,” Sonny repeated. “I’ll—let Carly know I’ll do whatever she needs me to do to make this okay.”

“I’ll tell her that,” Jason told him. “I got things covered at work.” He paused. “And it might be better if you didn’t come in. You could go down to the island for a few days. Take a break.”

“Yeah, maybe. Maybe.” Sonny rubbed his mouth. “I’m gonna go back—I’m just gonna go.”

When Jason closed the door and looked at Elizabeth, she shook her head. “He can’t really think Carly will forgive him, can he?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He walked over, pulled her against him, and sighed, just grateful she was there, in his life, and that he didn’t have to do any of this alone.

This entry is part 11 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

All you did was save my life
Pulled me out of that flat line
Put the heartbeat back inside
I’m not dying
All you did was get me through
I owe every breath to you
Heart and soul unparalyzed
All you did was save my life
All You Did Was Save My Life, Our Lady Peace


Tuesday, December 9, 2003

Hanley: Court Room B

The judge cleared his throat, peering at the court over a pair of half-moon glasses before glancing at his notes.

“The purpose of this hearing was to determine whether the Port Charles District Attorney’s Office would retain control of the State versus Vincent Esposito, a former detective with the Port Charles Police Department. Mr. Esposito was charged with seven rapes, attempted rape, attempted murder, and assault and battery on a public official.”

He glanced over at the empty space where the United States Attorney had been seated when the hearing began. “This petition was brought by Mr. Esposito and supported by the United States Attorney’s Office for Northern New York. While we were recessing after Officer Falconieri’s testimony, the NNY office withdrew their support.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught, and she traded a look with Jason. “That’s good, isn’t it?” she murmured under her breath.

“Mr. Esposito argued that his civil rights were violated when he was framed by a corrupt police department for a series of brutal rapes that left seven young women traumatized and a town demanding blood.” The judge cleared his throat. “The argument that the Port Charles Police Department was complicit in this conspiracy was supported by affidavits and evidence that several cases were mishandled and that officers frequently misused their power,  putting people in harm’s way.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard. That sounded less like support.

“Due to the DNA evidence in the case, I was prepared to entertain a motion that Vincent Esposito would be better served if he were tried by the federal government as it is often difficult to obtain local convictions for police officers charged with crimes.”

The judge set his notes down, focused on the audience gathered. “I am satisfied that the District Attorney’s office has met the proof of burden required to bind this defendant over for trial, and moreover, that if this were to go to a jury trial, Mr. Esposito would likely be convicted due to his own confession.”

He paused. “I am denying the defendant’s motion to dismiss the charges. I find there has been no violation of his civil rights. Furthermore, I have no concerns that he will receive a fair trial in the jurisdiction of Port Charles. The defendant will therefore be transported back to the county jail in Port Charles, remanded for trial in that jurisdiction.” He banged the gavel, and across the aisle, Elizabeth heard a woman wailing—Vinnie’s family—maybe his mother or grandmother.

“We won,” Renee breathed. “Didn’t we?” She swiped at her tears, looked at Elizabeth. “We won.”

“We won,” Elizabeth repeated. She exhaled slowly, got to her feet, and turned to the teenager, hugging her tightly. “It’s almost over.”

As long as Vinnie didn’t back out of his plea agreement, this would be over. He just needed to be sentenced. Elizabeth looked over just in time to see a furious Vinnie being dragged out court. Then she smiled.

She might not be able to put Ric away, but she’d stood up to the first monster who had haunted her dreams.

Vinnie could never hurt her again.

Hanley Courthouse: Steps

Dante lingered at the bottom of the steps, watching with a faint smile as the judge’s decision spread through the lines of protesters. There were hugs, laughter, even tears—

“Feeling proud of yourself?”

The words were hissed from somewhere behind him on the steps, nearly lost on the bitterly cold wind whipping around them. But Dante turned to find his grandmother standing there, her dark eyes lit with fury, with shame.

“I’m sorry, Grandma—”

“You don’t have the right to call me that! You’re no grandson of mine! Turning on your own like that—”

Dante swallowed, staring at her. “Didn’t—you heard the tape—”

“I heard you push him into saying those things—” Marta Falconieri pointed a long, bony finger at him. “Bastardo—all you cops are the same! You were angry at my boy for not solving the cases—”

“No, that’s not—”

“Cazzato!” Marta snarled. “You were always jealous of Vinnie, always tagging after him—you saw your chance to make yourself look better, and you took it, didn’t you?”

“I had to do the right thing, Grand—” She slapped him hard, his face snapping to the side. Dante took a deep breath as people around them gasped and started to point. “I had to,” he said quietly, more to himself now than her. “For Brooke, for the women he hurt—”

“You are no better than your father!” Marta hissed, stepping closer. “You destroy everything you touch, just like he did!”

Dante blinked and tried to absorb that. He’d never known his father. Never knew that anyone other than his mother knew who he was. “My father?” he repeated numbly. “I—”

“Did he put you up to this? That puta, Gloria, said he was here now—did he pay you to take my boy down?”

“Did he—” Dante cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know my father. You know that—” His voice trembled slightly. This was the woman who had looked after him, who had baked him cookies, and given him his first condom—

And now she hated him.

“You’re just like him. Just like that Corinthos scum.”

Dante couldn’t hear anything else—just that one word—that single name. He blinked as his grandmother stalked away, stalked over to where his aunt Francesca was waiting for her.

And he saw a group of people walking down the stairs—the tall figure of Jason Morgan with Elizabeth Webber. Behind them, Carly Corinthos—

And Sonny. The dark-haired man that he knew had grown up in his neighborhood, who had known his mother, dated her once—

Oh, God. Was he—

Was Sonny Corinthos his father?

Harborview Towers: Parking Garage

The trip from Syracuse to Port Charles usually only took forty-five minutes, but Elizabeth still dozed on the way back, waking when Jason pulled the SUV in the parking garage. It had been a long day, and she’d been up since almost dawn. She looked around, twisting slightly. “Are Sonny and Carly still behind us?”

“No, we lost the limo somewhere on the highway, and Sonny said they might stop for something to eat,” Jason said. He switched off the engine, sat back in the seat, then looked over at her. “I can carry you if you need it—”

“I’m fine.” Elizabeth popped open the door, then stepped out, waiting for Jason to come around the side of the car. “I need to get up and move around. We probably should have stopped more than once,” she admitted, “but the way you speed—” She slid him an amused glance, lacing her fingers through his as they walked towards the elevators. “I figured we’d be home in twenty minutes.”

“Very funny,” he muttered as he slid his elevator key into the access slot, then waited for the doors to open. “Chinese for dinner?”

“Mmm….no, what about Thai? I feel like something spicy.” As they stepped onto the elevator, Elizabeth’s phone buzzed with a text notification. She pulled it out of her pocket, flipped it open, then smiled as she read it.

“What is it?”

“Scott. It just says Deal still on. Sentencing after Christmas. It’s over.” She closed her eyes, pressed the phone to her chest. “He’s not backing out.”

“He’d be stupid to,” Jason said. He pressed the button for the penthouse floor, then used the elevator key again—the second layer of security. “If Baldwin got that tape admitted once, he could do it again. The deal is his best chance at parole.”

“He’ll never make parole,” Elizabeth murmured. She looked at Jason, who frowned at her slightly. “Between the DNA results, the cases from Buffalo, that tape—” She stared at the lights over the elevator. “In twenty-five years, I’ll go to that hearing, and I’ll make sure they never let him out.”

Jason squeezed her hand. “That’s if he lasts that long.”

He unlocked the door to the penthouse, turning to her. “I’m not saying I’d do anything,” he continued, “but people accused of what he did, to women as young—” He lifted a shoulder.

“Scott said the same thing. I honestly don’t care what happens to him,” Elizabeth told him. “As long as he’s off the streets. It’s—it’s not the same. Not like Ric. I wish I could explain why.” She unbuttoned her jacket, handed it to him so he could hang it up. “He’s a nightmare that I thought I’d put away a long time ago, but this time it really is over.”

She smiled up at him, sliding her hands up the lapels of his jacket, gripping them before leaning up on her toes to kiss him. Jason framed her face with his hands, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss.

“I’ll go get the menu,” she murmured a moment later, drawing back and wandering over to the drawer where they kept the takeout menus.

When Elizabeth turned back, menu in hand, she stopped short at the sight of Jason standing right in front of her—a velvet box in his hand.

She stared at it for a long moment, then raised her eyes to his. “Jason.”

“When we talked about it on Thanksgiving,” Jason said, “you said you wanted to wait for another moment. But I already knew when I wanted that moment to be. I’ve known for months.”

“You—” Elizabeth swallowed hard. “You did? When? I mean—” The menu floated out of her hands as she raised her hand to her chest. “When did you know?”

“Not long after you moved into the condo,” Jason told her, stepping closer, tipping his head down slightly to keep their eyes in contact. “We were sitting on the sofa, and you were watching one of those movies that I hate—”

“Oh, real nice—” She rolled her eyes with a smile.

“And I just—I wanted to spend every night like that.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “But you didn’t ask,” she said, her voice small, unsure. “Why?”

“Because it was almost a month to the day after I was supposed to marry another woman,” Jason said with a wry smile. “And we were still—we were figuring things out. I didn’t know— I couldn’t be sure you wanted to have the conversation. Not just then. You’d barely filed for divorce.”

When he put it that way—

“And then things happened with Brooke, and the Baker letter—there just—there never seemed to be a good moment,” Jason continued. “When you got pregnant, I didn’t want you to think—it was important that you didn’t think I was asking you because of the baby.”

She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. “Oh. I—” Elizabeth paused. “So you—you were waiting for today?”

“Actually,” Jason said as he turned the box around, open it—opened it so that whatever was inside was visible only to him. “I wanted to wait until you’d testified against Ric. Because that felt like it would be ending that part of our lives.”

“But that’s not going to happen anymore, so—” Elizabeth bit at the nail on her thumb. “So—”

“So, I wanted to ask today.” He turned the ring to face her, and Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn’t a traditional diamond, but a dark red ruby—nearly the same color as the glass he’d given her that Valentine’s Day—their first Valentine’s Day.

“It matches my dress,” she said, blankly, taking the box from him, staring at it. “I—I—” Elizabeth cleared her throat, looked at him. “You remembered.”

“I remember every moment we’ve shared,” he told her, his voice low and gravelly. He swept her hair out of her eyes. “I told you the lights were different in Italy. I want to show you. We can’t—we can’t go now, but later—when the baby is older—maybe this summer. We’ll take him with us.”

“A family.” She took it out, then set the box behind her on the table. “You—” Elizabeth met his eyes, then managed a smile, her heart beating so fast she was sure he could hear it. “You haven’t actually asked me yet.”

“No, I guess I haven’t.” Jason took the ring from her. “Over the last six months,” he told her, taking her hand in his, their eyes locked on one another, “I’ve watched you fight so many battles, and I’ve been in awe of your strength, your courage, your beauty. Not just on the outside—though—” He tilted his head, that wicked spark she loved so much in those gorgeous eyes, “—we’ve agreed you look amazing in red—”

She laughed, the sound more of a choking sob, as she pressed her free hand into a fist against her mouth. “That’s true—”

“But inside, where it counts. You risked so much for Carly, for Brooke, for so many people—for me. I want to share the rest of my life with you.” He paused, waited for her to look at him again. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Elizabeth wiggled her fingers, her smile so broad on her face that her cheeks were stinging. “Yes!”

He slid the ring on her finger, then crushed her against him in a hug, burying his face in her hair—then swung her in a circle, lifting her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing. “I love you,” he murmured against her ear.

“I love you, too.” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and hoped her feet would never hit the ground.”

Luke’s: Bar

Lucky glanced over at his best friend as Dante nursed his second beer of the night. That usually wouldn’t worry him, but Dante had only sat down about thirty minutes earlier — Lucky hadn’t known Dante to drink that much that fast before.

Dante had driven back with his mother, so neither Lucky nor Cruz had had a chance to check in with him to see how he was handling things. Lucky had invited both of them to hang out at Luke’s while he picked up a shift tending the bar.

He traded a concerned look with Cruz and was about to start over to where Dante was sitting at the end of the bar when he saw a familiar brunette walk through the front door. Leaving Dante to his roommate, Lucky strode across the bar to greet his girlfriend.

“Hey!” Kelsey was grinning when he reached her. “Scott just called me with the great news—Vinnie is going with the plea deal—it’s over. He’ll be sentenced after Christmas.”

“I know—he sent me a text—” he kissed her hard. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go, that you couldn’t be there.”

“Someone had to protect Port Charles while the rest of you were gone.” Kelsey glanced over at the bar with Cruz was talking to Dante, who didn’t seem to be responding. “How did he do?”

“He did great, but I think his grandmother wasn’t expecting Vinnie to lose the motion.” Lucky sighed. “I don’t know if she found him after the hearing because Cruz and I left—”

“Scott said he didn’t have to say a lot on the stand, only introduce himself and his relationship to Vinnie, but—” Kelsey bit her lip. “He said the tape was hard to listen to. That Lois and Elizabeth left before it was over.”

“You heard it,” Lucky muttered. “You know that transcripts couldn’t really paint the picture—” He shook his head. “I talked to Jason after the hearing—he said Elizabeth was handling it, but I guess I’m still worried.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot right now,” Kelsey said. “But it’s over. That should bring her some comfort. Scott said she was a star. I hope she can put this behind her.”

“Me, too.” He took her hand. “Come on, let’s go check on Dante.”


Dante grimaced as Kelsey slid onto the stool on the other side of him. He should have gone home, he should have just started screaming in the middle of the street, then maybe he’d be locked up somewhere he could just be alone.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t make sense of what his grandmother had said, but he couldn’t reject it—couldn’t stop thinking it was true.

He even looked like Sonny—he could see that now—dark hair, dark eyes—their chins— He stared at himself in the mirror on the other side of the bar, taking in his features, cataloging them, looking for similarities.

Sonny fucking Corinthos was his father. A gangster who was rumored to have killed his own mother back in the neighborhood. And his cousin? His cousin was a violent rapist who’d stalked and brutalized women.

He was screwed on both sides of the gene pool.

“Gin and tonic,” Kelsey told Lucky, who went around the other side of the bar. “I’m celebrating,” she told Dante and Cruz. “I wrapped another case today. “ She smiled at Dante, and he realized she wasn’t going to ask.

She wasn’t going to press him, ask him how things were—if he’d talked to his family—not like Cruz or Lucky. They meant well, but Dante just didn’t want to fucking think about any of it. He wanted it not to be true, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it, and everyone kept asking him—

But Kelsey was just smiling at him. “It’s actually one of your cases,” she told him. “That robbery on Van Ness?”

“Oh?” Dante cleared his throat, his voice slightly rusty as if he hadn’t spoken in days rather than a few hours. “They plead down?”

“They did. Good work.” She looked Lucky with a wicked smirk. “It’d be nice if you and Cruz could make me look that good in court.”

“Hey, I’m not a miracle worker,” Cruz said with a snicker. Kelsey tossed a pretzel at him in mock protest, and blissfully—no one bothered Dante the rest of the night with any more questions about his day or his family.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

The last thing Mac had to pack that night was the cluster of photos that sat on his desk. A photograph of he and Robin at her graduation from medical school—Maxie and Georgie’s senior portraits—a photo of himself and his brother—

He stared at the last photo for a long moment. He was glad Robert wasn’t here—that he hadn’t lived to see how right he’d been about Mac. The kind of person he’d turned out to be.

“Hey.”

He looked up, blinked in surprise when he saw Maxie in the doorway. “Maxie. It’s late—”

“Mom said you’d probably still be here.” Maxie walked into the office, looking around at the empty shelves. “Crazy. You’ve been here as long as I can remember.”

“Yeah, well, all things come to an end.” He picked up the frames and set them in the cardboard box on his desk. “What brings you by?”

“I hate being like this with you,” she told him. “I know you’re not my dad, not really—but you never gave up on me.” Maxie met his eyes, hers damp with tears. “And I just—I just didn’t know how to handle it. You know? I mean—it was so bad. What happened. Your part in it.”

“I’m sorry, Maxie. I was trying to protect you, your sister—our life—but I made a terrible mistake—”

“I know.” She walked around the desk and hugged him tightly. “But it’s okay. That’s what you always told me, wasn’t it? You make a mistake, you apologize, and you do better next time.”

“Yeah.” Mac kissed the top of her head. “I should take my own advice, huh?”

“Yeah. Come over to our house, Mac. Mom is holding dinner for you.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Carly wished her mother had driven with them to Syracuse, but Bobbie had, of course, cine with Scott, Lucas, and his boyfriend, leaving Carly alone in the limo with her husband. Max drove a lot slower than Jason, and Sonny’s insistence on stopping for dinner had put them nearly two hours behind Jason and Elizabeth returning.

She glanced at Sonny as he tossed his keys and wallet on the desk. “Elizabeth did really good today,” Carly said as she removed her jacket, laid it over the sofa. “It was…it was hard listening to her testimony.”

“Yeah. I, uh, it’s tough to think about that happening across the hall,” Sonny said. He poured himself a bourbon. Sipped it. “But that’s what happens when you cooperate with the PCPD.”

Carly narrowed her eyes. “Cooperating with the PCPD did not get Elizabeth attacked in her own home, Sonny—”

“Actually, it did. Twice.” Sonny held up two fingers as if she were an infant who didn’t know how to count. “Courtney called the PCPD, didn’t she? They got involved in your case, and Capelli leaked the story that had Ric throwing Elizabeth around the damn living room—”

“You heard Elizabeth—that was Capelli. Not the rest of the department—”

“Oh, you are not going to defend the cops to me, are you?” Sonny demanded. “Do you know who the hell you married?”

“Yeah, Sonny, I’m mildly familiar.” She crossed her arms. “But that doesn’t mean I have to agree with you all the time. Capelli is an idiot. And so are some of the others. But don’t stand there and tell me they didn’t try to find me. You know they did. No one knew about the panic room—”

“I don’t want to have this argument with you,” Sonny bit out. “I didn’t like it when my own sister fed me to the wolves, I don’t appreciate you doing it, too. Thanks to you and Elizabeth, Ric Lansing is out there, running wild, planning his next attack, so spare me the valor and courage of the fucking Port Charles Police Department.”

Carly scowled, then lifted her chin. “You know what, Sonny? I’m done with this. I am done pretending that I don’t matter—”

“When have you ever—”

“I have tried to give and give and give, but all you do is take.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Have you even bothered to get that list of nannies you promised me? Where’s my new guard?”

Sonny stared at her for a long moment, then finished the bourbon. He set the empty tumbler on the minibar. “You promised you’d stay here until Ric was found.”

“I promised I’d move back in the penthouse. I didn’t promise never to leave—damn it, Sonny, what if we never find him?” she demanded. “Your so-called tip didn’t pan out, did it? No. He’s nowhere, and I am done putting my life on hold. I’m hiring another nanny myself and going back to work every day—”

“No, you’re not. Ric is out there—” Sonny broke off, his scowl deepening as Carly changed past him, up the stairs. “Carly! Carly, come back right now!”

Carly shoved into the master bedroom and dragged out her suitcase. “I’m so tired of having this argument, of pretending that what you need is more important.” She grabbed a stack of hangers out of the closet, not caring what she grabbed or that it was a collection of skirts and dresses.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving,” Carly spat at him. “I’m going to get my kids from Laura Spencer’s house—so much for worrying about their safety. You didn’t ask where the hell they were while we were in Syracuse—you don’t care about them unless it’s to control me—” She tried to zip the suitcase shut, but it got stuck on a hanger. She started to yank at it. . “I’m getting the kids and going to my mother’s. I’m done—”

“The hell you are—”

Sonny grabbed the suitcase, hurling it across the room. Carly’s clothes tumbled out, falling over the ground. “You’re not leaving!” he growled, whirling on her, his eyes wild—his hair falling in his face. “You’re staying right here where I can keep you safe—”

“You can’t stop me!” Carly cried. She started past him but gasped in pain as he grabbed her elbow, swung her back. She tripped over the sleeve of a sweater, and hit the ground. She tried to get to her feet, tried to get to the door before he could—

But Sonny had stormed out into the hallway—the door slammed—

And then she heard it—a light snick as the door lock latched. Stunned, Carly reached for the knob, twisted it.

It wouldn’t move.

Carly tugged at it, pulled—but nothing. “Let me out! Sonny!”

“Not until you come to your senses,” he shouted through the door. Then she couldn’t hear anything. She kept screaming, kept crying for him to let her out, to unlock the door—

He was gone. She was alone.

Carly turned, her hands trembling as she dug her hands through hair, looking wildly around her room. The master bedroom was in the interior of the building—no windows.

No windows.

It was a room with no windows. And she was locked inside.

She ran at the door, beat on it with both fists. “Sonny! Let me out! Sonny!”

Nothing.

“Jason! Max! Somebody let me out!”

Nothing.

“Somebody—”

Carly fell to her knees, screaming Sonny’s name, screaming for Jason, for Max, for anyone—

No one came.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

No sooner had their dinner arrived than Jason got a call from the lobby downstairs, letting them know that Bernie and Justus were waiting—and it was an emergency.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, getting to his feet, wincing. Jason had wanted to spend the night with Elizabeth, being happy for five minutes without something terrible happening.

No such luck.

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I’ll eat until they get here, then go upstairs.” She smiled when his pinched expression didn’t change. “Jason. You know Justus and Bernie would never just show up unless it was important.” She gestured at his container. “Can I have your wontons?”

Jason went over to answer the door, frowning slightly as he heard some shouting from next door when he pulled the door open. Elizabeth couldn’t make out the words—but she could definitely hear someone shouting—

“What are Sonny and Carly fighting about now?” Justus asked as he and Bernie walked past Jason into the penthouse. “Hey, Elizabeth. Congratulations on the case. Ned said you did a great job.”

Picking up her food—and Jason’s wontons—Elizabeth got to her feet. “I guess. Whatever it was, the judge ruled for Scott, so it’s almost over. Finally. I’ll just go upstairs—”

“Actually—” Justus put up a hand to stop her, turning to Jason. “It’s about Ric, so maybe—”

“Oh.” Elizabeth looked at Jason, uncomfortable, not wanting to assume anything—

“Yeah, yeah. Stay. Sit—” He started towards the sofa, intending to help her sit back down, but Elizabeth had it covered and was already starting on the wontons. He turned to Bernie and Justus. “What’s up?”

“Another sighting in Caracas. We sent our team.” Justus lifted his brows to Jason. “I notified all interested parties—”

Jason nodded — that explained why Justus had been on the phone with the mayor at all today. “Okay.”

“Normally, this would keep until tomorrow, but we wanted to see if maybe—” Bernie hesitated. “Maybe we should keep it between us until we know more—”

Cody knocked, then pushed open the door as Sonny stalked in, barely waiting for the guard to step out of the way. “Jason, you have to get Carly—” He frowned, looking at them. “Bernie? Justus—what’s going—”

Elizabeth got to her feet. “What’s wrong with Carly—”

And then they heard it. Not shouting. But screams. Horrific screams—

Max was in the doorway, his face pale. “Mr. C—I think Mrs. C’s hurt—”

“She’s fine,” Sonny said flatly. “She just needs to realize I’m right—”

“Why is she screaming like that—” Elizabeth started walking across the living room. Something terrible lurked in the corner of her mind, but he wouldn’t—surely, Sonny would never— “Sonny, where is she—”

Then the screams cut off abruptly, leaving the room in an eerie silence. “I’m going to check on her,” Elizabeth told Jason. “You guys stay and talk—”

As soon as she passed Sonny—he grabbed her arm, shoved her back. Startled, Elizabeth fell against Bernie, her eyes wide as Jason muttered a curse, stepping in front of her. “What the hell—”

Bernie put his hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders to steady her.

“You leave my wife alone!” Sonny snapped, shaking a finger at Elizabeth, who stared him in confusion. “Stay out of this!”

There was another scream—but this was more like a long wail—and it was all Elizabeth was going to listen to. She shoved past Sonny, stomping on his foot when he again tried to stop her—and charged into the hallway, Jason on her heels.

This entry is part 9 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

Oh, dear, you look so lost
Your eyes are red when tears are shed
The world you must have crossed, you said

You don’t know me, you don’t even care
Oh yeah, you said
You don’t know me, and you don’t wear my chains
Oh yeah

Boston, Augustana


Wednesday, December 3, 2003

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason drew his brows together in concern when he saw Elizabeth pull out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. “You’re not going out today?”

She blinked at him, then shook her head. “No. I just feel like staying in. It’s getting colder, and I’m—” Elizabeth pulled her hair from beneath the collar of the shirt. “I’m feeling a bit tired.”

Jason hesitated, his boots in his hand. “I can stay home if you want—”

“No, no.” Elizabeth smiled at him, but it was a thin one that barely lifted the corners of her mouth. “I think I just want to lay on the sofa, watch some daytime TV, and relax. I’ve been so busy, you know—and with the holidays coming up—” She shrugged, sitting down on the bed to pull on a thick pair of wool socks.

It seemed plausible to him, and Jason should have been relieved to see Elizabeth taking a minute, resting, and not going a hundred miles an hour. But he knew her better than that—he knew she wasn’t okay.

She had been shaken by the transcript Taggert had shown them—and still, nearly twenty-four hours later, refused to talk about it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Elizabeth said. She looked up at him, scowling. “I’m fine, Jason. I just want a little time to myself—”

“Okay,” he said, putting a hand up. “I’m sorry. I can’t help if I’m worried.” He kissed her forehead, lingering. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She grabbed his t-shirt with her fist to hold him in place. “I’ll see you when you come home.”

“I’ll call you to pick up something for dinner.” He kissed her again, then left—looking over his shoulder one more time, still not sure he should be leaving her alone.

Kelly’s: Diner

Kelsey slowly set the transcript down on the table, then shoved it across the table. “Christ. They’re going to play that at the hearing? It’s going to be in the media?”

“Yeah.” Lucky picked it up, stared at the words again. “Taggert showed copies to Elizabeth and Brooke’s parents yesterday. He said it went as well as it could be expected.” He hesitated. “Mac is letting me go down to Syracuse. All three of us, actually.”

“Really? That’s basically the entire squad, except for Beaudry.” Kelsey wrinkled her nose. “But I guess if Elizabeth is supposed to be testifying about the good guys, it’ll help to have you and Cruz in the audience. And Taggert and Mac have to go in case the other side calls them.” Her mouth twisted. “I can’t believe he might get away with this—”

“He’s not going to—”

“No, he shouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean he won’t. You know the system, Lucky. You know how it can eat people up—destroy them—” Kelsey leaned back in her chair. “He nearly killed me, and he’s going to go argue to a federal court that the department framed him—it’s bullshit, but it’s dumb enough to work.”

“Hey. We haven’t really—we haven’t talked about this lately.” Lucky tipped his head down, trying to catch her eyes. “Kelse—you know, even if we lose next week, it’s not over. Buffalo is right there. And they’ve got a case that isn’t tainted—”

“I just—my mother was so scared—she doesn’t have anyone else. It’s just me and her, and he nearly took me away from her. If those stairs had been a little more steep—if I had fallen another way—”

Lucky’s stomach rolled as he nodded. “Yeah, I know—”

“He traumatized all of those women—he interviewed his own victims, Lucky—and he gets to stand up in federal court in front of the national press—” She stopped. “I just hate it. And I hate that he keeps getting to do this. If he loses there, it just starts all over again in Buffalo.”

“I can’t think about that right now,” Lucky said after a long moment. “Scott seems convinced that Elizabeth’s testimony will do most of the damage—and Dante—this tape—he’s done, Kelse. No judge on the planet could let this go—”

“I hope you’re right.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I need to get to work. I’ll talk to you later.” She brushed a kiss against his mouth. “Call me when you get off shift.”

“I will.”

The Cellar: Carly’s Office

“Well, there’s my baby!”

Carly smiled as she lifted Morgan out of the portable bassinet she’d set up in her office. “Hey, Mama. I thought you were working today—”

“I am—” Bobbie kissed Carly’s cheek, then took the baby from her. “But I’m on my lunch break, and I thought I’d zip over to see how you’re doing.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t see a guard—”

“Don’t tell Sonny,” Carly said quickly. “Jason drove me here, and he’s picking me up. I’m still waiting on Sonny to bring a guard home—it’s a long story—”

“Carly—”

“Mama, you don’t have a long break, and I don’t think we should waste your Morgan time by listening to my problems.” Carly returned to her desk and started to sort through her paperwork. “It’s no big deal. No one except you and Jason knows I’m here today, and it’s only for a few hours. Plus—Jason doesn’t seem to think I’m in danger during the day. It’s almost the lunch rush, and most of their guys come to Kelly’s—”

“Carly, I’m not judging your security. If Jason says you’re safe for a few hours, then I believe him. I just—” Bobbie sat on the sofa and gently rocked Morgan again. “I just don’t know why I’m hearing his name and not Sonny’s.”

Carly’s hand stilled in the process of signing her name, then she sighed. “Because Sonny is still not entirely on board with me coming back to work. He let Leticia go—and then never told me he couldn’t get her back.”

“Carly—”

“I’m handling it, Mama. Sonny—he’s just—this is so hard for him. And it’s hard for me, too,” she added when her mother’s eyes flashed. “But I told you last week — I just—I have to figure out how to do this—”

“Is he doing any of the figuring?” Bobbie said coolly. “What did he say when you went back to work on Monday—”

“Mama—”

“Don’t Mama me, Caroline.” Bobbie got to her feet and put her grandson back in his bassinet. “You told me that moving back into the penthouse was a good idea, but I knew it wasn’t. And then last week, you told me you were unhappy, and I told you to come home to me—and now—”

“I love him,” Carly said simply. “And he’s hurting. This thing with Ric—losing control last summer—not being able to protect me—it’s weighing on him, and yes, asking for the trial—it’s made things worse. Sonny isn’t doing well. I left in September because I was worried that he was going to hurt someone. But he didn’t. He’s only hurt himself. In sickness and in health. For better or worse.”

Bobbie gritted her teeth. “I understand, Carly—”

“Sonny and I are—we’re trying. As soon as Ric is out of the picture, it’ll be better. It’ll be like it was last year. We were good last year, you know that—after Brenda and all that happened—we were finally clicking and happy—why is it so wrong to want that back?”

“It’s not wrong to want it, baby.” Bobbie sighed. “It’s just—there’s no going back, Carly. You can’t turn back time. These last six months—it’s happened. It exists. Maybe you and Sonny can be happy again—but it won’t be like it was.”

“I still think I can make it work. I think—” Carly’s voice trembled. “I think I can still reach him.”

“Do you really?”

Carly closed her eyes. No. She didn’t believe it. Not deep down where it mattered. Not after Monday and the panic attack — she just knew she could never tell her mother she was staying because she was afraid of what would happen to Sonny if she left.

“Yes,” Carly said instead. “I do believe it. But I love you for pushing me. For making me think. Please just try to understand—”

“I can’t, but you will always have my support.” Bobbie kissed her forehead. “I love you, and I have to get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Lois attempted a smile when Elizabeth opened the door early that afternoon. “Hey, thanks for letting me up—” She paused as she took in the younger woman’s pale face and tired eyes. “Are you feeling all right? I can go—”

“No, no…” Elizabeth stepped back and let Lois in, dragging a hand absently through her hair. “No. It’s fine. I was just—I didn’t sleep well last night.” She looked blankly towards the kitchen. “Did you want something to drink? Or—”

“No, I just wanted to check on you. I was worried yesterday,” Lois told her. “That—it was a lot,” she added. “Reading what he said, knowing there’s a tape out there—”

“I can’t—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, scrubbed her hands over her face. “I can’t think about it. I really can’t.”

Lois bit her lip. “I feel the same way, but I think maybe I need to think about it. Because next week—it’ll be everywhere. I can—I can go rant at Ned. He’s used to it by now, and just—find a way to be okay with everyone else hearing—” She stopped. “I’m sorry. You don’t need me going on and on about any of this—”

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I get it. I just—” She looked towards the stairs. “Come upstairs for a minute?”

“Okay,” Lois drawled. She followed Elizabeth to the second floor and down the hall to the bedroom—then stopped, seeing the pile of clothes in the middle of the floor.

“That what I was doing when Wally called to tell me you were here.” Elizabeth went over to the closet to drag out another red t-shirt off a hanger and throw it on the pile. “I can’t think about it. But I also can’t—”

Lois realized once the new t-shirt hit the floor—that all of the clothes were red. Different shades—and some just had pieces of red along with other colors. She picked up a red and white sweater. “Elizabeth—”

“I didn’t remember about the hair until almost two years later. I cut it back then—” She touched the ends of her hair. “It’s taking forever to grow out, but it’s finally—I didn’t dye it. I thought it would make people ask too many questions—”

She tossed a dress on the pile—a white dress with red, purple, and yellow flowers. “I still don’t walk in the park at night alone.”

Another sweater—this one with barely any red except for some lettering—hit the pile. “I don’t wear bright red anymore. Not like I did before. But I could wear other shades. Patterns and prints, they didn’t bother me—I love dark red lipstick—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I came in here to change my shirt—” She looked at Lois, and for the first time, Lois saw a juice stain on the t-shirt Elizabeth wore. “And I just—I saw all this red—”

She turned away from the closet, stared at the pile. “How could I own so much of this color? How could I just forget—”

Elizabeth sank onto the edge of the bed. “I can’t do it,” she said dully. “I thought I could. I thought I was okay. But I can’t testify next week.” She met Lois’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I just—I can’t.”

“All right.” Lois sat next to her. “Dante’s testimony should be okay, I think. We can call Scott—”

“It won’t be enough—” Elizabeth choked back a sob. “Scott needs me to—he needs me to set the story because the tape can’t be direct evidence—there’s—it has to be me, but it can’t be. I can’t see him again—I can’t look at him—” She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

Lois put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder, gingerly. “Why don’t I call Jason?”

“No, no—I told him I was okay—and he just—he has so much else to worry about—I just—” Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath. “I can’t—it’s all my fault. All of it. All the girls who came after me—he was trying to rape me every time—and he hurt so many people—and he thinks—he thinks he’s my soul mate?” the final word was bit out on a bitter note as Elizabeth met Lois’s gaze.

“Because there’s something wrong with him,” Lois told her firmly. “He’s wrong in the head. He doesn’t know what real love is, Elizabeth. You know that. It’s a sick, twisted obsession that had nothing to do with you. Tell me you know that. You were just a baby when he did this—you did nothing to deserve it.”

“I just—I can’t stand it—it was supposed to be over, and it never ends. It just keeps on coming—”

“This will make it over,” Lois said, fervently. “Look at me, Elizabeth.” She brushed Elizabeth’s tears from her cheek. “If you go into that hearing next week with half the dignity and strength you showed in that press conference, you will have those attorneys shaking in their boots. You can do this. You already faced him once, Elizabeth. One on one, with nothing more than your courage and a baseball bat—and you took him out. No one else did.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I wouldn’t be alone in the courtroom,” she murmured. “I guess. I don’t know. Will you—” She bit her lip. “If I can’t—I don’t want to let you and Ned down. I know how important it is. I want to fight for Brooke—”

“That is not your job, sweetheart. It’s not,” Lois said when Elizabeth grimaced. “Your job is to take care of you. To put you and your child first. Not my daughter. She’s—” Lois closed her eyes. “She’s gone. She’s—God, I hope she’s at peace. I can’t have you thinkin’ any of this is your responsibility.”

“I want to be strong,” Elizabeth said. She roughly wiped at her eyes. “I just—I don’t know if I can testify.”

“If you can’t, Scott will figure something else out. There’s always Buffalo, and there are other cases. Other DNA matches. You worry about you, Elizabeth. Let the system worry about itself.”

She hesitated. “You sure you don’t want me to call Jason?”

“No.” Elizabeth looked around the room. “No,” she repeated. “He’s dealing with enough. I just need to clean this up. I’ll talk to him when he comes home. Thank you for stopping by Lois. I’m —I’m just sorry I can’t be stronger.”

Kelly’s: Diner

Dante slid onto a stool at the counter, reaching for a menu.

“Like you’re not just going to order a burger.”

He set the menu down to find Lulu in front of him, already putting a glass of soda down. “I could change.”

“Sure. But you won’t.” Lulu gave him a set of utensils, then hesitated. “Lucky and Kelsey were here earlier, talking about the transcript of some tape.” She tipped her head. “So, I guess you went through with it.”

“Yeah. I’m testifying next week.” Dante picked up a straw, slowly peeling the wrapper back. “Taggert gave the transcripts to Ned and Lois yesterday. And to Elizabeth.” He crumpled the wrapper up. “I’m not great company, Lu. Maybe you should just put in the order.”

“I will, but I just want to say something first—” Lulu leaned over the counter. “You did the right thing. I know there’s things on the tape no one should ever have to hear, and I’m sure it’ll cause pain. But if it gets him off the streets for good—then I think Brooke would be proud of you, too.”

“Maybe. I just—” Dante rubbed his cheek. “That’s not how Ned and Lois should have found out about Brooke. She—I knew,” he said slowly. “She never came out to me officially, but I knew. And Vinnie knew it, too. That’s part of the reason he went after her. He wanted to show her—” His stomach rolled.

A bit pale, Lulu leaned back. “I’m sorry, Dante. I really am. For Brooke, for you, and for her parents.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll be all over the news next week,” Dante muttered.

“And that sucks, too. Especially since Brooke hasn’t been given one ounce of privacy since the moment it happened. But I think she did tell some people. Lucas, my cousin, he came out to us right after Brooke died. In fact, he brought Felix to her memorial. He was the one that invited her out. I just—I think maybe she did tell him.”

Dante squinted at her. “Why does that matter?”

“Maybe it doesn’t. I guess—it’s just nice to think of her as not being completely alone with it,” Lulu said with a shrug. “I think that would be the worst part of having a secret like that in a new town. I hope she did tell him. I hope she felt safe enough.”

“That’s—you’re right. That does—I hope she did, too. Maybe I’ll ask Lucas or something.” He flashed a half smile at her. “Thanks, Lu.”

“No problem. You want that burger now?”

Gatehouse: Living Room

Ned stepped back to let Lois into the room, frowning as he closed the door behind her. “I wasn’t expecting you, was I? I thought we were moving into the offices tomorrow—”

“What? Oh. No.” Lois blinked at him. “No, I was just coming—I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday.”

“At the PCPD?” Ned nodded. “Yeah, me either. It’s—” He exhaled in a rush. “It’s a lot,” he admitted. “Knowing that there’s a tape of that scum saying that crap—it’s almost too much. Taggert’s right. Maybe we shouldn’t listen—”

“I went to see Elizabeth.”

Ned tipped his head slightly. “Elizabeth? Why?”

“Well, she just was—she was so upset, and I know—” Lois spread her hands out the side. “I was just worried about her. Ned—she’s thinking about not testifying.”

Ned gently closed his eyes, let the news settle, then nodded. “I can see how this would shake her. She doesn’t have to listen to the tape, so maybe she can just leave after—”

“It’s the sitting in the courtroom, looking at him—” Lois brushed at the tears on her cheeks. “She doesn’t think she can after reading that transcript.” She sat on the sofa. “And I just—she was ripping all the red clothes out of her closet—and she was so upset, Ned.”

“She’s dealing with a lot right now,” Ned admitted. He sat next to her. “She’ll come around—”

“When is it enough?” Lois demanded. “She’s just a baby, Ned—”

“Lois—”

“She’s twenty-three. Did you know that? That’s it. Four years older than our Brooke. I watched that press conference from Bensonhurst. I watched her stand up there and—” Lois closed her eyes. “I don’t know if Brooke meant to die. It haunts me, Ned. We were out of the house, arguing while she was struggling.”

“I know that—”

“I’ll never know if she meant to take her own life or if she just wanted a moment away from all of this and took too many pills. I’ll never know if she knew it was Vinnie. If she knew the man who destroyed her life was someone who knew her—she had a moment of weakness—she couldn’t handle it—and I can’t—”

We’re not the ones putting the pressure on Elizabeth,” Ned told Lois softly. “And I know it’s been difficult for her since Ric Lansing jumped bail. But it’s not good for you to get this involved—”

“Well, someone should! Someone be putting her first—we didn’t put our baby first! Where are her parents? Where is Jason? Why isn’t someone stopping this?” Lois shoved herself to her feet and started to pace the room. “To keep asking her over and over again to relive this—the investigation, the attack—the hearing—and now this transcript—”

“Lois, if Elizabeth doesn’t testify, Scott will have to call Taggert and Mac. We might lose. And then the plea deal is gone. Buffalo might not go after him. He might go free. You want it over? The hearing next week is our best chance—”

“I just— I missed all the chances to help our baby—”

Ned took Lois in his arms, gently rocked her back and forth. “Elizabeth has people who care about her. Jason will look after her. I’ll call him myself and check in a day or two.”

“I just—I want Brooke back.” Lois fisted her hands against his chest. “I want that moment back—I just want one more chance to get it right!”

Ned pressed his lips to her dark hair, squeezing his eyes shut as Lois sobbed. “I know. I want it, too.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason dismissed Cody for the night, then closed the door behind him, dropping their dinner from the Grille on his desk. “Elizabeth?” he called, removing his leather jacket and hanging it up in the closet.

He frowned when she didn’t call back— “Elizabeth?” His heart began to beat just a bit faster as he went into the kitchen, found nothing, then took the stairs two at a time, almost running by the time he reached their bedroom —

Jason didn’t realize how much he’d really expected to find her unconscious, sprawled out somewhere until he finally saw her. She was sitting on the floor, her back against the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, staring blankly at the massive pile of clothes in front of her.

“Elizabeth?”

She looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot, and her cheeks stained with tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Jason slid next to her on the floor, reached for her arm, placing two fingers over her wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t. I can’t do it. I’m not—” She looked at him, her eyes so tired and worn out but dry as if she’d cried all the tears she could. “I’m not strong enough.”

Satisfied her pulse rate was normal, Jason pressed her hand to his chest. “Strong enough for what?”

“I can’t testify.” She turned away from him, looked at the clothing. “I thought if I just ignored it, if I just—pretended it wasn’t happening—I could do it. I really just wanted to sit and relax today. I—I spilled some juice, and I came upstairs—I went into the closet—and I just—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “There’s so much red.”

Jason leaned forehead, pressed his lips to her forehead. He couldn’t speak. Didn’t know how to force the words out. He’d read the transcript, too.

“Elizabeth—”

“I’ve been lying to myself. I keep saying I’m strong, that I can do anything, but I can’t, and I can’t do it. I can’t talk about what he did to me while he’s looking at me—” Her words tumbled out so fast, she nearly tripped over them. “I can’t.”

“Okay.” Jason got to his feet, lifted her into his arms, then set her against the pillows on the bed. “Okay,” he repeated as she just looked at him. “Then you don’t have to testify. Let Baldwin fix this on his own. The cops screwed up the case, it’s their problem.”

Elizabeth sighed, leaned back against the pillow, stared at the ceiling. “He’ll get away with it.”

“Not if you don’t want him to.”

She met his eyes and clearly understood what he was saying. She smiled faintly, but he was encouraged by the curve in her lips. “I’m such a hypocrite. I started that support group, pretending I had it all together. But I don’t.”

“That doesn’t make you a hypocrite, Elizabeth. It makes you human. I hate that this tape exists. That it has to be put it into evidence—that anyone else gets to see or hear what’s on it. If you don’t want to testify, I’ll tell Baldwin myself. You won’t even have to see him.”

“It would be easy to let you do that,” she murmured. She closed her eyes. “It would be easy to stay in this room, to throw out all those clothes, and let you fight all my battles.”

“Just say the word.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and her smile was bigger this time. And even reached her eyes. “I really love you, you know. I know we say that a lot to each other, and I’m glad we do. It’s important. But I mean it. I love you. I love that you would let me just walk away from this.”

“It’s not about letting you do anything—I just—I’ll support whatever you want. Whatever you need. So just tell me to go ahead, and I’ll call Baldwin right now—”

She exhaled slowly, then sat up. “I have to testify. Not just because the case needs it—our case could be thrown out—the Buffalo case might take another year—Vinnie might even make bail on that —all of that is true. But I have to testify.” Elizabeth met his eyes. “Because all these years later, and it can still shake me. If I don’t testify, he wins. He still has power over me. I can’t—I can’t let him have that power.”

Jason pressed his lips together. “Okay. Then you’ll testify. What do you need from me? Do you want to bag this stuff up—”

“No.” Elizabeth turned, setting her feet on the floor. “No—it’s just—it’s just a color. We can put them back—” She pressed a hand to her stomach just as he heard a rumble. Her cheeks flushed. “I haven’t really eaten all day. Did—did you bring home dinner?”

“I stopped at the Grille. Let’s go heat it up and get something to eat.” Jason stood, then pulled her to her feet. “I love you,” he told her, tipping her face up to his and kissing her, then leaned his forehead against hers. “In court next week, just keep your eyes on me. And we’ll get through it.”

“I know we will.” She kissed him again, and then they went down to have dinner.

This entry is part 10 of 25 in the Mad World: This Is Me

Because these things will change
Can you feel it now?
These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down
It’s a revolution, the time will come
For us to finally win
And we’ll sing hallelujah, we’ll sing hallelujah
Changes, Taylor Swift


Tuesday, December 9, 2003

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth stared at her collection of dresses that still fit and pursed her lips. “I should have bought something new. Emily was right. I’m going to be sitting up there, worrying about how fat I look because everything is too tight.” She glared down at her abdomen, which seemed to have grown overnight.

Jason stepped up behind her, knotting his tie. “We have time if you want to stop by Wyndham’s,” he offered. “You could change at the courthouse.”

“No, I hate shopping. I’ll just take too long, we’ll miss the entire hearing—and this is stupid to worry about—” She walked away from the closet and sat on the edge of the bed. “No one cares what I wear. I just—God—” She dipped her head, took a deep breath. “The only thing that remotely fits is the dark red.”

Jason glanced over at the closet, saw the dress in question, but didn’t ask why she wouldn’t wear it. He knew. They’d hung all the clothes back up last week, and neither of them had spoken about her closet binge since. He still wasn’t sure if she was really up to this, but she’d made the choice a week ago and hadn’t backed down again. Jason was just here to do whatever she needed to get through it.

“I should wear it.” Elizabeth got to her feet, walked over to the closet, and took the dress off the hanger. “He likes me in this color. He said so. The judge—he should see Vinnie thinking about that.”

“Elizabeth—”

She looked at him, her eyes a little wild, her breathing just slightly faster. If he checked her pulse right now, it would be racing. “I know he can’t use that as evidence, but before he takes this case away from Scott—before he dismisses the case—he should see who Vinnie is. Who he’s helping.”

Jason took the dress from her, tossed it on the bed, then took her hands in his. “Elizabeth—”

“I’m fine,” she told him, her teeth clenched, yanking them back. “Stop—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, tried to take a deep breath, but choked on it as tears started to slide down her face. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

“Hey.” Jason drew her into his arms, his chest aching. He hated that he couldn’t do anything more—that he couldn’t make this case go away—that he couldn’t make any of this stop. “Just take a deep breath.”

“I’m t-trying—”

He led her over to the side of the bed and took out of the portable oxygen tank they still kept on hand. She hadn’t had had a panic attack in a few months, but that terrible night when she’d almost passed out after they’d made love the first time was seared into his brain.

He couldn’t just stand here and listen to her struggle to breathe.

Elizabeth fitted the tube over her nose and switched it on. Then closed her eyes as she concentrated on her breathing. He held her hand, counted through the breaths with her, his fingers to her wrist. Jason’s own tension started to ease as her breaths gradually became deeper, her pulse slowed down.

“It sneaks up on me sometimes,” she admitted a few minutes later. Elizabeth met his eyes, and she smiled at him—tired, but genuine. “You’ve got this whole thing down to a science.”

“I can’t breathe for you,” Jason told her. He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering for a moment. “This is the best I can do.”

“We’ll take the tank with us,” she told him. “I don’t want to risk anything so far away from Kelly and Monica. I—I’m doing so well, you know?” Elizabeth removed the mask, and Jason found the bag they had traveled with earlier that summer when she’d needed it more often.

She stood up and removed her robe, then reached for the dress and stepped into it. “Can you zip it?” she asked, pulling her hair to one side.

“Are you sure you want to wear this?” Jason asked as he grasped the metal tag and slowly drew it up her back. Elizabeth turned to look at him, and he was relieved to see her expression was calmer than it had been. Stronger.

“I look great in this color,” Elizabeth told him. “I have a lipstick that matches, and I’m not—” She rested her hand on his chest, leaning up to kiss him briefly. “I’m not letting him steal that from me. I like my hair color, I like wearing it long, and I look amazing in red.”

“Yeah, you do.” Jason smiled down at her, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You’re going to do great today.”

“As long as you’re with me.” She squeezed his hand and then over to her vanity to apply her makeup. She picked up the tube of lipstick, twisted off the top, and smiled at the shade.

She was going to make sure the whole world know exactly how much Vinnie Esposito liked seeing her in red.

Syracuse, New York

James F. Hanley Federal Building: Hallway

Dante’s steps slowed when he turned a corner and saw a small crowd outside of Court Room B where the hearing would be held today. A crowd of Quartermaines.

He swallowed hard and felt his mother next to him squeeze his hand as Ned and Lois broke away from the family and approached them. It was the first time Dante had seen Brooke’s parents since Taggert had given them the transcripts.

“Dante.” Lois stepped forward, then embraced him tightly, leaving her hands at his shoulders when she stepped away. “I just want you to know that I love you. I know none of this has been easy on you. That it’s going to get even worse, but I—” She looked at her ex-husband for a moment before focusing on Dante again. “I’m so proud of the man you grew up to be.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you and Ma,” Dante told her. He looked at Ned. “I’m just—I’m sorry we couldn’t see it earlier. Couldn’t do more.”

“What you’re doing today is enough,” Ned told him. “I just—” He hesitated. “I want you to know that I appreciate you giving us some warning about the tape—the transcript—it was…”

Lois slid her arm through his, her other hand squeezing his bicep tightly. “It was tough to hear,” she said, finishing Ned’s statement. “We’ll always regret that Brooke didn’t feel ready to talk to us about it, but it doesn’t change my mind about my little girl at all.”

“I’m glad,” Dante said. He looked at Ned. “Lu Spencer told me—she’d heard about the transcript from Lucky—and it circulated with Lucas and the others. Lucas—she talked to him about it. He knew. He said—he said now that it was in the open if you want to talk him—”

“Maybe we will. Once we put this away inside.” Lois lifted her chin. “We’re going to win today, Dante, but I know—”

She trailed off, focusing behind him. Dante turned and swallowed hard when he saw his grandmother and aunt—Vinnie’s mother—glaring at Lois as they walked past. When Marta Falconieri and her daughter, Francesca Esposito, saw Lois’s mother, Gloria, standing with Edward and Tracy Quartermaine, their eyes narrowed.

“Oh, shit,” Olivia murmured.

“Uh—” Ned turned, narrowing his eyes but then saw his mother step in front of Gloria Cerullo, fold her arms, and raise a brow. “Is there enough security?”

But Marta and Fran must have thought twice about saying anything before the hearing, not wanting to be barred from the room. Instead, they simply went inside. Lois exhaled, relieved.

“I’d better go over and talk Ma out of ripping Frannie’s hair out,” Lois said.

“And we should go in and make sure they’ve saved seats for Elizabeth and her support group,” Ned told Dante and Olivia. “We need at least two rows.”

“Almost time,” Oliva said to Dante as they followed Ned inside the courtroom, ignoring the Falconieri family on the other side of the room. “Whatever happens today, baby, you’re doing the right thing. Never forget that.”

Hanley Courthouse: Court Room B

Elizabeth flashed a hesitant smile at Lois in the front row before looking back at the group of women that had arrived just after they had. Their seats were in the second row. She gestured for Renee, Veronica, Dana, and Wendy to go in front of her. She made sure to sit next to Renee, taking her hand in hers for another squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” Elizabeth murmured. “You can do this.”

“All I have to do is sit here and not throw up.” Renee squared her shoulders. “No problem.”

Jason settled in a seat next to her, Sonny, Carly, and Bobbie filing into the row behind them. A minute later, Lucas and Felix joined them. Lucas leaned forward. “Hey. Protest is still going strong. Maxie said the RAINN coordinator says there might be five hundred people.”

“Five hundred—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “It felt like thousands when we came up the stairs—” She twisted in her chair to look at Lucas and his boyfriend. “Thank you. Tell Maxie and the others the same. No matter what happens here today.”

In front of her, Ned and Lois had taken the front row with Taggert, Mac, and Dante. Behind the and in front of Elizabeth’s row, Edward, Tracy, Gloria Cerullo, and two other people Elizabeth didn’t recognize were seated. Their side of the courtroom was packed.

Behind the defense table, there was a cluster of reporters and the Falconieri family. Elizabeth was gratified to see there weren’t many people in support of Vinnie.

He didn’t deserve it.

A few minutes later, the judge called the court to order and asked for the defendant to be brought in. Elizabeth tightened her grip around Renee’s hand on one side, and Jason on the other, as Vinnie Esposito walked into the room.

She hadn’t seen him since that terrible day in September when he’d lied his way into the penthouse. He looked at her—their eyes met—and then his eyes dropped down, taking in the color of his dress. When Vinnie met her eyes again, he was grinning.

Her stomach rolled, and bile rose in her throat. She forced it back down. Elizabeth arched a brow at him as if to say you are nothing. His smile faded, and she waited — she didn’t care how long it would take —

Finally — Vinnie looked away first, his lawyer poking him in the shoulder.

She felt Jason’s muscles tense under her hand, and his hand squeezed hers even harder. She almost winced, but when she looked at Jason, his face was expressionless. The look she knew had earned him the nickname of Borg from Taggert years ago.

“He doesn’t scare me,” Elizabeth murmured. Jason glanced at her, but his face didn’t change. “He can’t ever scare me again. I promise.” She looked down her row, saw the other survivors with their hands clenched. Renee was looking down into her lap. “We’re okay,” she told her. “We’re stronger together.”

“It doesn’t feel that way right now,” Renee managed on a shaky breath. “But okay.”

The judge called the courtroom to order, and Elizabeth tried to concentrate as both attorneys gave their opening remarks—she knew one of the men at the defense table was the United States Attorney who had signed on to support Vinnie’s petition, but Vinnie’s lawyer was the one making the arguments.

The lawyer didn’t say anything Elizabeth wasn’t expecting. The PCPD was corrupt, blah, blah, the system was prejudicial, blah, blah—scapegoat, framed—all the things Scott had told them to expect.

Scott’s opening held no surprises either. He referred to Elizabeth’s testimony and the DNA evidence, only briefly mentioning Vinnie’s own statements.

“Almost time,” Elizabeth murmured to Jason. He squeezed her hand in response.

“I wish I could be up there with you,” he admitted under his breath. Their eyes met, and she smiled at him.

“You will be. I’ll be looking at you and remembering that I’m strong. He can’t break me.”

“The state calls Elizabeth Webber to the stand,” Scott said. He turned to her, and Elizabeth knew he wanted her to look at him as she walked to the front of the courtroom—to focus only on him—but Elizabeth wasn’t going to let Vinnie think for one moment that he would win today.

Elizabeth smiled at Jason, at the survivors, released Jason and Renee’s hand, then slowly stood. As she walked towards the front of the room, she looked directly at Vinnie, then lifted her chin, then looked away.

Scott hid a smirk as she calmly walked to the stand, was sworn in, then sat down, her eyes on his. He offered her a reassuring smile. “Good morning, Elizabeth. It’s okay if I call you that, right?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said.

“Please state your name and address for the record.”

“Elizabeth Imogene Webber, 122 Harborview Drive, Port Charles, New York. Penthouse Four.” She folded her hands in her lap, found Jason’s eyes in the audience, and felt herself settle.

She could do this.

“Elizabeth, today, we’re going to be very brief,” Scott told her. “On September 24 of this year, do you remember where you were?”

“Yes, I was at home.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have any visitors?” Scott asked.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone, but the front desk called to tell me that Detective Vincent Esposito was waiting to question me.” Elizabeth flicked her eyes over to Vinnie, then focused on Scott.

“Do you see Vincent Esposito in the courtroom today?”

“Yes. He’s sitting there at the defense table.”

“Let the record reflect that the witness identified the defendant,” Scott said. Returning his attention to Elizabeth, he continued, “What happened when you received the call?”

“I agreed to speak with him, and the desk sent him up.”

“Did you know the defendant? Had you met him before?”

“I didn’t remember him,” Elizabeth told Scott. She looked at the judge, found him focused on her. She looked at Lucky, sitting in the back row with Cruz. Let her eyes drift to the support group, particularly Renee. “But once I saw him, I realized I had met him before. He’d questioned me a few times over the years.”

“Can you describe those encounters?” Scott said, scratching his temple.

Elizabeth did so, recalling the shooting at Luke’s and her fall at Rice Plaza. “If there were other times, I don’t remember.”

“Thank you,” Scott said. He held up a sheaf of documents. “I’d like to enter into evidence police reports corroborating Miss Webber’s statement, as well as six other police reports detailing incidents involving the defendant and Miss Webber.”

“Noted.” The judge took the reports. “Continue.”

“Elizabeth,” Scott said. “You said you didn’t know the detective at first. Why did you let him upstairs?”

“I knew Lieutenant Taggert was busy out of town that day,” Elizabeth said. “And I’d been working closely with other members of the PCPD. I knew his name was familiar. I—” She hesitated. “I trusted the PCPD.”

“The defense suggests that you had reasons to resent the PCPD,” Scott said. “Is that true?”

“Objection, leading the witness—”

“Sustained.”

Scott pressed a hand to his chest, his face apologetic though Elizabeth knew they’d planned every word of her testimony in preparation. “Forgive me, I’ll rephrase. Miss Webber, how would you characterize your relationship with the PCPD?”

“When I reported my rape five years ago, Detective Alex Garcia was very kind to me,” Elizabeth said. “As was the ADA assigned at the time, Dara Jensen. When Lieutenant Taggert—I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” she corrected. “He was a detective back then—when he took over my case, he was also very kind. I never had a reason to suspect I shouldn’t trust the PCPD.”

“What about this summer? Did the PCPD do anything to change your mind?”

“Not the department themselves, but a few officers let me down,” Elizabeth said, slowly. “I was married to a man suspected of kidnapping Carly Corinthos. Ric Lansing. The lieutenant offered me a way out—he said if I wanted to go, he’d make sure I was safe. But I was afraid of what would happen if I left the house—of my husband,” she added quickly. “I was sure he was guilty, and I wanted to find Carly.”

She hesitated. “The Lieutenant assigned a guard for me. Not to watch the house or my husband—but a patrol car sat outside the house every day to watch me. On the day we found Carly locked in a panic room, when I had a pulmonary embolism and nearly died, Officer Rodriguez was inside with me, helping me look. Officers Spencer and Falconieri were also on patrol and involved in the case. They made me feel safe, and that feeling made it possible for me to still have access to the house so that Carly was found and came home safely.”

She looked at Lucky in the back. “I couldn’t have done that without the PCPD’s help.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Unfortunately, earlier that same day, a report was made in the Port Charles Sun—and the Herald—accusing me of having an affair. Of letting Carly’s best friend into the house every day while Ric was gone. The PCPD—they knew we were looking for Carly, but Detective Capelli leaked an affair to the tabloids anyway, hoping Ric would make a mistake.”

She clenched her hands in her lap, remembering the terror of that morning. “Ric was furious—he attacked me, threw me across the room—I got away from him—I think I might have been okay—but I don’t know for sure.”

“That sounds like a good reason to hate the police department,” Scott offered with a half smile. “Withdrawn—” he said, waving his hand before Vinnie’s lawyer could stand. “Did that change your mind about the department?”

“No. It might have,” she admitted, “except Lieutenant Taggert saw the paper, and he was worried. He sent Officer Rodriguez in to make a welfare check and came himself. And the commissioner immediately admitted fault. They never tried to cover up for Detective Capelli. He was suspended the same day.” Elizabeth met Mac’s eyes. “They’re not perfect, but they did their best. And I would never blame the department for the actions of one or two officers.”

“In September of this year, did you give a press conference about the PCPD?”

“Yes. I had learned some information about the investigation of my rape in 1998,” Elizabeth said. “I found out that I had been lied to—that my rape kit had never been sent for testing. The man I thought had attacked me—his DNA should have been compared to my kit. He would have been excluded—”

“Objection, calls for facts in not evidence—”

“Oh, here are the DNA results that corroborate that statement,” Scott said, cutting Vinnie’s lawyer off. He set them in front in front of the judge. “That report excludes Tom Baker from matching DNA extracted from the dress Miss Webber wore the night of her attack. DNA that matched six other women.” Scott’s smile was thin. “DNA that also matches the defendant.”

“Your Honor, Elizabeth Webber’s DNA results should be excluded based on the evidence tampering—”

The judge cut off the other lawyer. “That sounds like an argument that ought to be made in pre-trial hearings.” He looked at Scott. “Report is in evidence. Anything else?”

“Just a few more questions,” Scott said to Elizabeth. “On the afternoon of September 24, 2003, what statements, if any, did Vincent Esposito make about your rape?”

“He said—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, found Jason’s eyes in the audience, and she felt herself settle again. She looked at Vinnie, met his eyes head on. “He told me that they knew that I had been the first. That there was something special about the first.”

Vinnie’s lips curved into a smile, and her stomach rolled. She’d been right—he couldn’t help himself. Without looking away from him, Elizabeth continued, “He reminded me that he’d questioned me in December 1997. He told me that I had been the first, but not the only.”

“Elizabeth,” Scott said softly when she said nothing else. Elizabeth blinked, then looked at Scott. With kind eyes, he continued, “What else?”

“He asked me if I knew why there had been other women.” Her voice trembled—just slightly. “He said that he’d tried to find someone like me. But they were never me.”

A tear slid down her cheek—she’d tried to hold it back. Scott stepped closer to her. “What did you think he was talking about?”

“I knew he was talking about himself. I knew that he’d raped me. He kept talking. I was trying to think about how to escape, but he kept talking. He said that he’d followed the signs—they’d looked like me, they’d gone to the movies like me, they’d stopped like me—”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, then focused on Scott again. “I tried to run, but he grabbed me before I could reach the door. He threw me on the couch. He was angry.”

“Why?”

“Because they—the other women—weren’t right. Because none of them were ever right.” Her breath was a little more rapid now, and she couldn’t look at Jason, couldn’t think about him. She kept her eyes on Scott. “He told me he didn’t want to hurt me. That he’d was sorry. He knew I hadn’t liked it. I tried to tell him I didn’t want it, but he didn’t care. He slapped me—he wanted me to look at him—but—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I kicked him. I kicked him in the groin, and I managed to get away—just—just long enough to run upstairs. I knew I couldn’t unlock the door, I couldn’t get out, but I could go upstairs. There was another phone up there—” Her breathing was more shallow now, and she could feel the burning in her lungs.

She saw Jason lean forward in the audience—Oh, God. Not now. Not now. “I need—I need a minute.”

“Do you want a break, Elizabeth?” Scott asked softly. “Can I get her some water—”

“No. No, I can—” She shook her head. “I can do this. I just—” Had to remember it was over. It was over. That even if Vinnie got free somehow, it would still be over. Jason would make sure of it.

And with that in her mind, Elizabeth looked at Scott, and her breathing relaxed. She cleared her throat. “I ran upstairs to my bedroom and locked the door. I keep a baseball bat under the bed, and I grabbed it. Then I waited for him. He busted down the door, and I hit him in the knees. I swung hard, and I hit him. He must have hit the edge of the bed. I don’t know. I didn’t stop. I ran. When I got downstairs, Lieutenant Taggert and Jason were there. Then more cops—it all seemed to happen at once.”

Elizabeth flicked one more glance at Vinnie. “But he admitted to raping me when I was sixteen. He admitted to raping other women in the park who looked like me, and then he tried to rape me again. And it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about the PCPD, that will always be true. You admitted it,” she said softly, speaking directly to Vinnie. “And you know it.”

“Please don’t speak directly to the defendant,” the judge said with a grimace. Elizabeth didn’t apologize. She just looked at Scott again.

“The PCPD made mistakes with my case, but they tried to make them right. The Commissioner admitted those mistakes, but they don’t change the evidence. They don’t change what Vincent Esposito said to me or what he did to me when I was sixteen or tried to do again in September.”

“No further questions,” Scott said after a long moment. “Can we take a brief recess so that Miss Webber can get some water?”

“Do you have any questions for this witness?” the judge asked Vinnie’s lawyer. The man hesitated for a long moment, then shook his head.

“No, Your Honor.” Elizabeth blinked at him in surprise. Scott had prepped her for that — she was ready — and he was just going to let her testimony go unchallenged? What did that even mean? She closed her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing, but her lungs were starting to burn—and she couldn’t quite drag in a full breath.

“We’ll recess for twenty minutes.”


As soon as the judge had called the recess, Jason had gotten to his feet, intending to come forward and help Elizabeth—but a bailiff held him back until Vinnie had been led from the room.

Jason didn’t even spare Vinnie Esposito a second glance—Elizabeth had done what needed to be done, and Jason wasn’t going to think about him again unless the system screwed this up.

By the time the bailiff let Jason go, Scott had walked Elizabeth over to him. “Do you need the oxygen?” he asked, worried because the security guard hadn’t let them bring her portable tank upstairs without a doctor’s note.

“No.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand, but her face was pale, and he could hear her breath—it was short, and her fists were clenched. “I think I just need some water.”

“I’ll get you a room.” Scott strode off to confer with the bailiff while Bobbie hurried over to check on Elizabeth.

“What can I do?” Edward demanded.

“Nothing—nothing, I just—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, but her vision was starting to swim— “I need some air—”

“We can use a conference room,” Scott told them, shoving through the crowd. Jason lifted Elizabeth into his arms and followed the DA through the front of the courtroom into a back room. He locked eyes with Bobbie, who nodded and hurried away.

“I’m okay,” she managed as Scott shoved open the door. Jason put her on her feet just long enough to drag out a chair and help her sit down. “Just water. And some air. So many people—”

“I’ll get the water,” Scott told them. “You don’t have to come back, Elizabeth. We got everything,” He left them in the room as Jason knelt in front of her, taking her wrist in his, feeling for her pulse.

“Jason—”

“Just wait—”

Bobbie came in then, with both a portable oxygen tank she must have gotten from somewhere and a glass of water, Scott hovering in the background. “Elizabeth, I can call Monica—we can get you to a hospital or I—”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth said, her teeth clenched, fighting the urge to yank her hand away. “I just—water. Please.”

“Bobbie, let’s give them a minute,” Scott told her, softly. “Come on—” He touched her shoulder. “Let’s go check on Ned and Lois.”

“But I just—”

“I’ve got it, Bobbie. Thanks for the oxygen,” Jason told her, and Scott was able to direct the well-meaning redhead from the room.

“Your pulse is fast, but not too bad,” Jason told her as he fitted the mask over her face and checked the gauge. “Just—just humor me, okay?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes but had to admit the oxygen helped. She sipped the water, closed her eyes, and felt herself her body begin to relax, and soon she could take a true, deep breath, expanding her lungs fully. It had been silly to reject it. After another moment, she took the mask off and reached for her water.

“I was afraid you’d jump out of your seat,” she admitted with a smile after she’d drained the glass and set it aside.

“Thought about it.” Jason leaned against the table. “But you got it under control. You did—” He met her eyes. “You did amazing. I knew you would, but—” he shook his head slightly. “You reminded me all over again how brave you are.”

“I wish I didn’t have to be,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I could see the others in the audience—I could see Renee, Dana—they seemed to get stronger the more I talked. I’m glad I could do this, and they didn’t have to.” She played the hem of her dress. “I was right about wearing this.”

“I didn’t—” Jason’s voice was tight. “I didn’t look at him. I wasn’t sure I would—” He trailed off, looked away. “You didn’t—we never really talked about that day in the penthouse. The words.”

“I knew I might have to testify about them in a sentencing hearing one day, and I didn’t want to say them more than once,” Elizabeth said softly. “I wrote them for my statement to Taggert. And Scott didn’t push me to say it when we prepped.” She grimaced. “I probably should have.”

“You did great,” he repeated. “And if Baldwin thought you needed to practice, he would have told you that. Dante will play the tape, and it’ll be over.”

“Kind of glad the other lawyer didn’t ask me anything,” Elizabeth told him. She managed a smile. “I was afraid he’d ask me about Capelli. About the tabloids. Kind of hard to say it was a lie now, huh?” she asked, touching her belly.

Jason covered her hand with his, his fingers longer than hers. The baby fluttered slightly, and Elizabeth smiled. “I can’t wait until he’s kicking hard enough for you to feel him too.” She leaned forward, kissed him lightly. He returned the brief caress, lingering.

“He?” Jason repeated. “Did you have an ultrasound I wasn’t invited to?”

“No, I just—” Elizabeth shrugged. “I just have a feeling. We’ll find out next week. Just in time for Christmas.”

There was a light knock, and Bobbie stepped in. “Hey. The judge is giving a two minute warning. Scott said you don’t have to come back for Dante’s testimony—”

“No, I want to.” She put a hand on Jason’s arm as she stood up. “I’m okay. Thank you. I didn’t even realize I’d need the oxygen.” She kissed Bobbie’s cheek. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“Feeling is mutual.” Bobbie hugged her briefly, then smiled. “Let’s get this over with.”

Hanley Courthouse: Courtroom B

It wasn’t as bad as Dante thought it would be. He waited while Scott and Vinnie’s lawyer waged a brief, but bitter, battle over the admissibility of his tape and testimony. Dante wasn’t entirely sure if he followed it all, but he knew that Scott had won when the district attorney had waved him forward to take the stand.

He was sworn in, and Scott took him through the prepared part of his testimony. His relationship with Vinnie, his work on the case, and the decision to visit him in jail. No, no one had known he was going. No, his superiors hadn’t asked. No—he’d just wanted to know why Vinnie had attacked Brooke.

He’d needed to understand.

When Dante arrived at that part of the testimony, he looked at Vinnie and his family for the first time. Aunt Fran was scowling, his grandmother’s face was blank, but Vinnie—God, he was smiling.

As if he couldn’t wait for everyone to hear what he’d said. Christ.

A shiver danced down Dante’s spine as Scott brought out the tape recorder and hit play.

He’d heard the tape several times, had helped with the transcript, but Dante still couldn’t stop himself from feeling nauseous as Vinnie’s words floated out.

In the audience, Elizabeth closed her eyes, squeezed Jason’s hand as she heard Vinnie talk about her.

“High cut shorts, low cut tops. Oh, man. She had a way of smiling at you…that slutty red dress…”

She’d thought she was ready to hear him say it—she’d seen those words in her nightmares a thousand times since Taggert had shown them the transcripts—

But everyone had been right.

Playing the tape was so much worse.

But, God, he’d sounded so…excited…it had aroused him remembering that night—

Elizabeth swallowed hard, knowing it would get even worse. Knowing there was more filth to sit through—more for Brooke’s family to hear—

“…And I knew I’d be her first. That would make it special. Like it was with Elizabeth.”

In front of her, she saw Tracy Quartermaine press a fist to her mouth, Gloria Cerullo was crying. She couldn’t see Ned or Lois’s face. They were two rows up, staring directly ahead.

“She was a lesbo. Never drove stick, you know? Maybe part of me wanted to make her understand what she’d been missing—”

Lois lurched out of her seat, ran up the aisle, and out of the courtroom, gagging. Ned twisted to look after her, his expression anguished.

“It needed to be her.”

“So that’s why you went back. Why you went after Elizabeth Webber.”

“She’s my soulmate. She doesn’t understand that yet. But she will. One day.”

Bile rose in her throat, and Elizabeth couldn’t do it. God, Scott had been right—she didn’t need to hear this. Unsteadily, she forced herself to her feet and followed Lois out, hearing Jason’s steps after her.

On the stand, Dante’s eyes were burning with tears of his own as he watched his godmother run out of the room, followed by Elizabeth and Jason. Ned hesitantly followed them as the tape drew to a close.

“Sorry about Brooke. I should have figured it out a long time ago. That’s on me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s on you.”

The tape clicked off as Scott looked at Dante, then at the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor. The state rests.”

The judge cleared his throat. “Let’s, uh, take a short recess before the defense presents their case.” He banged the gavel.

Scott turned to look at Bobbie, who was already hurrying out the door, followed by Carly. He briefly locked eyes with Sonny, who had remained seated. That didn’t surprise him. Corinthos had always been a selfish bastard.

“DA Baldwin?”

Scott frowned, then looked over to find the federal attorney that had been sitting at the other table. “Uh, yeah?”

“Let’s talk.”

Hanley Courthouse B: Restroom

Elizabeth stumbled into the ladies’ room, then into one of the stalls where she vomited. She threw up until her throat was raw until her eyes were watering and throbbing—

And then she slumped against the wall, the door still partially open. She closed her eyes and just sat there, her hands dangling limply at her side.

She heard the door swing open, then Lois’s quiet, but a ragged voice. “Elizabeth? Are—are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said faintly, then looked up when Lois appeared in the stall doorway, her eyes red. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be—” Lois swallowed hard. “I thought I could do it. I read those words, I thought I could do it—but—” She clenched her hand into a fist and punched the stall, wincing. “He was so excited on that fucking tape—like he was a goddamn frat boy—”

Elizabeth’s chest heaved, and she started to cry again. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to live with this anymore. Why couldn’t it ever be over—

“—don’t give a shit what anyone—” Jason’s angry voice faded in, then out again as the door swung open, then closed. Elizabeth frowned as Bobbie appeared in the doorway, pale.

“Jason is going to get arrested in about five minutes,” she said dryly, her eyes red as well. “Come on. Let’s just go home. Scott can call us when the decision comes back—”

“N-no—” Elizabeth tried to stand up, then Lois and Bobbie both grasped her elbows, helping her to her feet. “No,” she said. She pressed her hands to her face, looked over at the mirror, and winced. “Oh, damn. Jason’s going to take me to the nearest hospital.”

“Maybe he should,” Lois said, a bit nervous. She brushed at Elizabeth’s dress. “You don’t look okay—”

“I—” Elizabeth shook her head, then walked over to wash out her mouth. Bobbie handed her some gum, “I’ll be fine. I just—you’re right,” she told Lois. “We shouldn’t have listened. If they let him go after that or if the U.S. Attorney still thinks he should take over the case—” She grimaced, then splashed some water on her face. She reached for a paper towel to blot at her makeup. Her eye makeup was smeared slightly, but she was able to clean it up. She could fix it later.

“Then we’ll just have to hope Buffalo can do better,” she said, turning back to the women. “Let’s go back out there before Jason does get arrested.”

She walked towards the entrance, and after a minute, Bobbie and Lois followed.

The hearing must have ended because there were a lot of people milling about in the hallway. Jason, Carly, and Ned were both just outside the bathroom, Jason glaring at a bailiff who was clearly stopping him from going inside. She could see Sonny sitting on a bench across the hall.

“I’m okay,” she told him as he came over to her, took her face in his hands. “Don’t kiss me,” she warned. “I threw up.”

Jason laughed, his voice slightly rusty as he wrapped her in his arms. She clung to him, thanking the universe for putting him in her life.

“You okay?” Ned murmured to Lois, touching the small of her back. “I’m sorry—”

“If they let him go, Ned,” Lois said under her breath, “if somehow—he gets out of this, I’m going to make him disappear. I know people.”

“We know the same people,” Ned reminded her, then kissed her forehead. “But agreed. He’s not going to get away with this.”

Lois sighed when the bailiff called them in. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.” She squeezed Ned’s hand and then followed the rest of the crowd into the courtroom.

Hanley Courthouse: Hallway

Carly walked out of the courtroom for the second time that day, anxious. “Vinnie’s lawyer didn’t even put on a case,” she said to Jason as he walked Elizabeth over to a bench. Carly looked at her mother, then at Sonny. “That’s good, right?”

“I hope so.” Elizabeth rubbed her eyes. She looked at Jason. “Hey, I want to go down to the gift shop. I need some toothpaste.”

“I’ll get it for you—” he started to offer, but Elizabeth shook her head.

“I need to walk, to move around.”

“We’ll wait up here in case the judge comes back,” Carly told them as Jason tugged Elizabeth back to her feet. She made eye contact with her mother.

“I’ll go with you. I want to get something to drink,” Bobbie said, following the pair.

“We could head home if you want,” Sonny said when they were gone. “Judge might not be back for a few hours.” He sat down on the bench, stretched his legs. “Might as well grab some dinner on the way back.”

Carly frowned at him. “I want to wait—”

“I mean, what’s the point? Elizabeth testified and got through it. She did good. But the rest of it is out of our hands—” Sonny shrugged. “What else can we do?”

“We can sit there and support—” Carly closed her eyes. “This is important to Jason, and it’s important to Elizabeth. Jason is my best friend, and I want to be here for him. You can go if you want. But I’m staying. I can get a ride back with Mama and Lucas—”

“Fine, fine.” Sonny put up his hands. “I’ll stay.”

Carly sat down, crossed her legs at the ankle, and stared straight ahead, blindly, barely seeing the other side of the hallway. Elizabeth’s testimony, like the press conference a few months ago, it had just proved to Carly once again that she wasn’t getting better. Not like Elizabeth was. She was recovering from two terrible things at once and could still stand up in front of the man who’d raped her and face him down—

Elizabeth was getting better, and Carly wasn’t. And the only difference between them was Carly had Sonny, not Jason.

And for a brief moment, Carly hated Elizabeth for having someone who loved her, who put her first. Who wanted to see her get better.

It was a brief flicker of that old resentment, and Carly forced it down. It wasn’t fair to blame Elizabeth for Sonny’s failures, for Carly’s blindness.

If Carly didn’t like the way her life was going, it was up to her to change it.

Hanley Courthouse: Court Room B

Scott had hoped the decision wouldn’t take more than an hour, but he’d acknowledged they might not hear back that day or even the next. Sometimes these things took weeks, he’d warned them.

It took less than a half hour.

The bailiff called them back into the courtroom, and Elizabeth frowned—realizing that the U.S. Attorney that had been sitting at Vinnie’s defense table was no longer there.

Ned had noticed the same thing and leaned forward to talk to Scott. Scott smiled, turned back to Elizabeth, with a thumb sticking up in the air. He thought it was a good sign.

“All rise,” the bailiff said.

Elizabeth and Jason stood as the judge came back in and called the court to order. She held Jason’s hand and reached for Renee with the other, flashing the teenager a hopeful smile.

Then looked forward to wait for the judge’s decision.