I can see you waitin’ down the hall from me
And I could see you up against the wall with me
And what would you do? Baby, if you only knew, oh
That I could see you throw your jacket on the floor
I could see you, make me want you even more
What would you do? Baby, if you only knew
That I can see you, oh, I can see you
– I Can You See You, Taylor Swift

---

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Audrey emerged from the kitchen with a dish towel in her hands, Jake running in front of her. Jason dropped his keys on the desk, hesitating when the toddler stopped at the sight of him. It was the first time Jason had seen his son awake since the night before, and he knew, of course, that Jake wouldn’t really remember the brief conversation with his mother. It would take longer for Jake to see Jason as a father figure.

“Jason, hello. Jake and I were just finishing lunch.” Audrey flashed a hesitant smile. “Jake, remember what Mommy said this morning?”

“Mom say hi.” Jake furrowed his little brow at his father as Jason crouched on the ground to be eye level with his son. “She say more?”

“Jason is your father, my darling.” Audrey rustled Jake’s hair. The words were a bit stilted, and maybe uncomfortable, but she was trying her best and Jason appreciated it. “Mommy told you it’s okay to have more than one, remember?”

“Mom say Daddy.” Jake nodded as if this brought it all back, but it really wouldn’t. “You the daddy.” He pointed one little finger at Jason.

“Yes,” Jason said carefully, fighting the urge just to pull the little boy into his arms and never let go. It was very important that Jake make the decision to accept Jason as his father after more than a year of Lucky in his life, and he wondered — what had it been like for AJ when Michael had come to live with him?

It brought back another wave of shame for letting this lie stand for so long — for lying about Michael all those years ago — for putting anyone else through this. AJ might have made choices later in life that had put him on the path that led to the end of his life but at the time Jason had told the lie, it hadn’t been personal. It hadn’t felt personal, anyway.

But now Jason knew what it was like to stand on the other side, and even though he’d participated in the lie, he didn’t like the way it felt.

“Yes, I’m your dad, too,” Jason said, though it was hard to add that final word. “Did you have a good lunch?”

“Jelly.” Jake’s face scrunched up. “Carrots. Bad carrots.”

“Vegetables never hurt anyone, sweetheart,” Audrey said wryly. “You survived.”

Jake shrugged, then raced off to the corner where the toys were kept, and Jason got to his feet. He focused on Elizabeth’s grandmother. “Thank you. I know that’s not easy for you.”

“It’s made me think of my own son,” Audrey admitted, “and now I wonder if I handled it well when I was Elizabeth’s age.” At Jason’s confused look, she added, “My son Tom wasn’t Steve’s biological son. Steve adopted him after his father died, and well, his father wasn’t a particularly good man. I hoped Tommy would forget him. And he did.” Her expression was strained. “But I just called Steve Dad and corrected Tommy every time he was confused. Sometimes he cried. Was that the right way?”

“I don’t know that there is a right way,” Jason said, and she looked back at him, pensive. “You just do the best you can and hope it’s enough. Elizabeth always talks about her grandfather with a lot of happiness, and I remember him a little. I know he was a good man.”

“A wonderful man. A good father.” Audrey nodded. “Tommy did eventually accept Steve, and we never spoke about his biological father again.” She rubbed her arms. “Elizabeth and I spoke a little this morning, and she told me that she wants Jake to see you as his father. To accept it, but without making him feel guilty if he still thinks of Lucky that way for now. It will take time for that to fade.”

“That’s what I want, too. I was part of this decision, Mrs. Hardy. It seemed like the right choice at the time,” Jason added. “But I was wrong. I just want to make it okay. I want Elizabeth and her boys to be happy.”

“That’s what I want, so in that, we have a common interest.” Audrey hesitated. “Can I ask…do you know anything else about the hospital? Have you any answers?”

“A few,” Jason said. He gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa and followed her there. “Spinelli found some strange codes in the automated dispensary machine.”

“Ah. I never did like those machines,” Audrey said with a wrinkle of her nose. “I understood how it would make it easier to keep inventory, but I was very glad when I didn’t have to use them for long. I had just taken over the nursing program when we introduced it, and I left all that in Bobbie’s capable hands.” She paused. “But Elizabeth received the wrong medication three times?”

“Spinelli confirmed it, but we don’t know anything else just yet. I’m sorry, I wish I had better news.”

“Well, knowing that it’s not another one of our nurses,” Audrey murmured. “That news about Jolene — oh, that was terrible. I worked so hard to make the nursing program a shining asset to the hospital. We were ranked in the top ten in the state during my time, did you know that? And Bobbie was doing quite well for a long time until those awful budget cuts. But I’ve heard such terrible stories since…” Her sigh was wistful. “Well, since Alan passed.”

Jason looked down at his hands, thought of his father. The hospital, and the future Jason had thrown away, had stood between them for so long. “Elizabeth doesn’t have much good to say about the man who replaced him.”

“I don’t know him—he came from outside which was an extraordinary choice. That role had always been filled internally. Steve held that position for so very long, and he fretted over who might take over after him. Alan wasn’t always the natural choice, but then in those last few years, Steve changed his mind and saw him as the natural fit,” Audrey continued. “Steve was planning to retire, and we were going to travel.” Her smile was wistful. “But we never did get that chance. At any rate, Dr. Ford was brought in by the board from the outside. Sometimes that can be good, but often — well, I don’t know what happened here. Only that he was not popular or well-liked.” She glanced at her watch. “And she ought to be waking up from her nap about now. Maybe it’s time you told her what was going on.”

Mandalay Bay Resort: Hotel Room

Johnny knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “Nadine?”

“Go away.” Her voice was muffled, but he could still make out the words, so she was likely just on the other side of the door.

“Well, I would except we have a problem. There’s just that one bathroom, and, uh, you don’t have any clothes in there.”

There was a long pause, and Johnny could nearly picture her glaring at the door as his words sank in. The change of clothing she’d bought the night before was still in the bag, with the tags attached.

“You could just give me the bag.”

“I could. But then you’d get dressed, and we’d avoid talking about this.”

“I think that’s the point—”

“Nadine. It’s not like this is a one-night stand.”

Nadine cracked the door open so that only a sliver of her face was visible. “Do you think this is funny? Because it’s not.”

“I never said—” Johnny closed his mouth. “Look, if you have regrets, that’s fine. I’m an adult, I can handle it. But—”

“Regrets doesn’t begin to—” Nadine pulled the door all the way open, keeping one hand clutching at the top of the sheet. “This was really stupid.”

“You said that already.”

“And—and—I don’t even know why it happened—”

“Nadine, we don’t have to overthink this. We already talked about the cover story, right? So what if it’s a little bit true—”

Her eyes widened. “It’s not—”

A bit exasperated, Johnny huffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re gorgeous, right? Any guy would be lucky to get you into bed. Are you going to tell me you don’t find me attractive, too?” He lifted his brows, and her cheeks flushed cherry red. “Can I take that as a yes?”

“But—” Nadine swallowed. “This isn’t who I am, okay? I don’t just jump into bed with guys I don’t know. I didn’t even sleep with Nikolas, and we were…sort of dating until five minutes ago. And you—you! What about Lulu? You’re still technically dating her.”

Some of his amusement faded and he sighed, looking away. “Yeah, I get that. I just…Nikolas is in California. Did he tell you to wait for him?”

“No, but—” Nadine bit her lip, shrugged a shoulder. “No. He didn’t. And I know that he doesn’t plan to come back until Lu is better. He’s moving his mother out there, too. And Lucky obviously treated it like a permanent move. So maybe…I don’t know, I guess that’s all the answer I needed. And it’s not like he had to run that decision past me or anything. That’s not how things were, but…” She shuffled past him, keeping her eyes trained down. “That’s more pathetic, don’t you think? I’m sitting here feeling guilty about sleeping with someone else, and he didn’t even factor me into his decision to move across the country.”

“He’s an idiot—”

“Johnny—” Nadine sank onto the bed, her blue eyes pained. “This isn’t who I am. Or who I want to be. I agreed to come here, to do this insane thing because I was afraid the PCPD would push you into another trial, and maybe this time they wouldn’t believe me. And there’s no one else to save you. But I didn’t—”

“Look, what happened here this morning isn’t the end of the world.” Johnny sat next to her, their shoulders brushing. “We’re attracted to each other. And I like you. Yeah, okay, it’s complicated. And I’m…” He paused. “I’m not sure what to do about Lulu. I love her. I don’t want to lie to you about that.”

“I understand that, and it doesn’t hurt me to hear it.” Nadine managed a smile. “I’d think less of you if you didn’t after less than a week. I’m sure it’s been hard since she started having problems. And the prospect of her not recovering…I really am sorry about that.”

“I know.” Johnny exhaled, looked ahead at the closed bathroom door. “But maybe this is still how it’s supposed to be. Even if she recovers, what does that look like? My life, my family…it’s too much to ask anyone to take on. And just being close to something traumatic sent her over the edge.”

“You can’t predict the future, Johnny, not when it comes to someone’s mental health.”

“No. But I do know that my future has to include you. Even without what happened this morning,” he added when she dropped her eyes back to her lap. She shifted her grip on the sheet. “It’s not like we can wait a few weeks and get divorced. We have to make this look good enough that they can’t challenge the privilege.”

“I knew that when I said yes.” Nadine nodded. “So, yeah, we have to do this part. But—”

“But through no fault of our own, we’re both single. And we’re, forgive me, stuck together.” Johnny caught her hand as she started to stand, and their eyes met. “Why not make the best of it?”

“The best of it?” she echoed. “You mean…”

“Yeah. I mean.” He kissed the inside of her palm, then drew Nadine against him, brushing his mouth against hers. Her lips remained still for a moment, but then softened and parted beneath his mouth. When Nadine didn’t resist or push him away, he gently lowered her back against the pillows, reaching for the edge of the sheet she’d wrapped around herself like a shield.

“But—” Her eyes searched his. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“It’s probably not,” Johnny agreed, but feathered a kiss against the pulse point on her collarbone. “Do you want me to stop?”

Her eyes fluttered closed. “No. Damn it.” Nadine speared her fingers in his hair and drew his mouth back to hers. “I’m such an idiot.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth was awake — and she’d shuffled over to the armchair by the window, her expression guilty when Jason walked into the bedroom. “Don’t say it.”

Jason closed the door behind him. “What did you always tell me when I was hurt?”

“Oh, that’s not fair,” she grumbled, wincing and leaning back, slouching down in the chair so that her torso could lay somewhat flat. “I wanted to get out of bed.”

Jason wanted to argue with her, but he was just so relieved to see her looking more like herself. She’d washed her hair, and her face, though pale and strained, didn’t look quite so blank. He’d spent too many hours sitting next to her bed, watching her sleep and hoping she’d wake up to argue with him.

“You know, I need to check the menu,” Jason said, leaning down to lift her into his arms. She looped an arm around his neck, holding on. “See if there’s any cream of broccoli left.”

“You complain, but you got better, didn’t you?” she muttered, and he managed a smile. He laid her back into the bed, pulling the comforter away so it didn’t get stuck beneath her body. “Soup is good for you.”

“I’ll remind your grandmother.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “No more IV?”

“Gram said I’m okay. I don’t need any more fluids or pain meds pushed that way. She switched me to oral meds.” Elizabeth considered him as she relaxed back into the pillow. “Are you ready to tell me why you checked me out of the hospital after major surgery?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Jason dragged a hand down his face. Had it really been just yesterday? “You had a bruised kidney after the accident, but Leo Julian said it would heal on its own. Instead, it started bleeding, and you went into shock.”

Her brows pinched together. “Leo’s a good surgeon. That’s not a mistake I’d expect him to make.”

“He didn’t. He went back over your surgery video, and the kidney was just bruised. They pulled your chart and ran the blood.” Jason traced the edge of her sleep shirt. “Patrick prescribed you fentanyl. Instead, you were given three doses of warfarin.”

“War—” Elizabeth stared at him. “Three doses? How is that possible? We had systems to stop that—”

“Patrick was pretty sure from the start that it was deliberate somehow.” Jason said with a shake of his head. “And Spinelli confirmed that what happened to you isn’t like the other problems you’ve been having at the hospital.” He lifted his brows. “What’s going on with that?”

“The hospital—well, it hasn’t really been great the last year or so. Since Dr. Ford took over as chief of staff. We also got a new hospital president and some new members of the board.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well, it’s not something I’d bring up without a reason. You hate talking about the hospital,” Elizabeth reminded him, and he nodded. “It started to trickle down a little bit — you couldn’t get meetings with supervisors. Written up for silly infractions. The ICU med dispensary kept giving wrong dosages — we reported it a thousand times, but the hospital kept saying there was no money for new equipment. The problem, they said, was our training,” Elizabeth muttered. “We just implemented new safety protocols, but we never know if we’ve accounted for every problem.” She sighed. “It’s really been a mess, and I’m sorry Patrick has to take it on. I know he’s had push back from the higher ups.”

“That doesn’t seem right,” Jason muttered.

“It’s been awful since the new administration came in. Cutting the nursing program was such a body blow to morale. Where would I be without it?” she murmured. “My grandmother built it with love and sweat and tears. It was there when I needed to change my life, to provide for my boys. For Bobbie, when she needed a fresh start. It was the heart and soul—” her eyes filled. “It’s not right. None of it is.”

“I’m sorry.” Jason stroked her hair back from her forehead. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s—” She accepted the tissue he handed her. “It’s just a lot, you know. And now apparently, it’s getting worse. For patients to be getting the wrong medication—” She paused, looked at him, her eyes sharper now. “Wait. You said it was deliberate.”

“Your medication problems were,” Jason said. “That much we know for sure. Spinelli said the program can be hacked. He’s going to look into how to fix it, I hope.” Jason would make sure of it, even if he had to donate the money himself. “But I just—I didn’t trust the hospital after that.”

“Oh. That makes sense, I guess. You’ll tell me what Spinelli finds out?”

“Yeah,” he assured her. “Whatever he finds out. But for now, you should get some rest—”

Elizabeth caught his hand as he started to rise. “Jason. Don’t…can’t you stay a little longer?”

“I—” Jason nodded. “Yeah, I can.” He sat back down. “But you should sleep. You’re still tired—”

“Tired of laying in this bed, not able to do anything. Is there any change with Sonny?”

His hand slid away from hers, and he shook his head. “No. No, but I should call Carly. Make sure she has what she needs, that Morgan does—”

If Elizabeth was going to argue with him or ask him to stay again, Jason didn’t know. He was out the door almost before she could say a word.

Mandalay Bay Resort: Hotel Room

Johnny sifted through his wallet, contemplating what he wanted to leave the maid for one night. Across the room, Nadine was carefully folding her few clothes back into the plastic bag they’d decided to share on their flight back.

After he’d pulled her back into bed that second time, he knew he’d be pushing his luck if they didn’t start making plans for leaving the hotel room. Maybe it was tempting to just stay locked up in the room with its wide, comfortable bed and room service, but Johnny knew that Nadine wasn’t going to be seduced twice. Well, three times, he thought, smirking—

His smirk faded when, instead of pulling out a fifty, he pulled out a photograph of Lulu taken sometime last year. Her bright smile, sparkling blue eyes stared back at him, and the guilt he’d been forcing down earlier crawled up his throat. He’d meant what he said to Nadine. Lulu was in California, gone from his life with little chance of coming back. And even if she did — he’d married another woman. Even before they’d slept together, Johnny had to look out for Nadine now, to keep her safe while she protected him from the PCPD.

Nadine might feel her own guilt for jumping into bed after breaking off what little she’d shared with Nikolas, but Johnny’s guilt was different — he and Lulu had been in a committed relationship, even as Logan had lingered in that coma. They’d fallen in love, and Johnny hadn’t planned on any future that didn’t include her.

But it couldn’t now, and he didn’t know what he felt about any of it. What would Lulu think about what he’d done in these last twenty-four hours?

“Johnny?”

He jerked his head up to find Nadine looking at him. Johnny shoved the photo back in his pocket and removed the fifty. “Yeah, I was just trying to decide whether to leave a fifty or a hundred. I know how crappy these places can pay.”

“Oh, okay. Um, we should get to the airport.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just—” Johnny shoved his wallet back into his pocket, swallowing the complicated swirl of guilt and turned his attention back on to the present. “Let me call my sister first. I think it’s time to go back on the grid, you know? And maybe warn her about what’s going to happen next.”

This love is good
This love is bad
This love is alive back from the dead
These hands had to let it go free, and
This love came back to me
This love left a permanent mark
This love is glowing in the dark
These hands had to let it go free, and
This love came back to me
– This Love, Taylor Swift

---

Friday, October 3, 2008

Nadine’s Apartment: Living Room

Nadine dropped her keys on the counter as Johnny followed her in, closed the door behind her. “Well, that was, uh, an eventful day.” She stripped off her jacket and tossed it aside, finally turning to face him.

“Yeah. Never a dull moment.” Johnny cleared his throat. “I’m sorry—that you got dragged into this.”

“I dragged myself into it.” Nadine perched on the arm of her sofa. “At least that part is over. They don’t have any real evidence against you.”

“Not yet.” Johnny rested his hands on the back of the sofa, leaned forward. “But they didn’t have anything against me with Logan, and that didn’t seem to stop them—”

“That’s true.” She examined her thumb nail. “Um, so, maybe we need to talk about things. Now that you’re, uh, here in Port Charles. That we’re both here. And that people know.”

“Yeah, good news travels fast.” Johnny made a face. “You have some run-ins with well-wishers, too?”

“Just Leyla, a friend from work. Well, not much of a friend now, I guess. I guess—I mean, I knew people would look at me like this, I guess I just didn’t really understand how it would feel. People who know Lulu looking at me like I’m this terrible person,” Nadine said, shaking her head, looking towards the window. “And I can’t even pretend that I’ve got some moral high ground, that I married you because of that day on the pier. I mean, I did, but—”

“But it didn’t stop there.”

“No. It didn’t.” Nadine sighed. “From your question, I guess you didn’t get anyone congratulating you either, huh?”

“Maxie was angry.” Johnny paused. “Lu, you know, she’d understand the wedding part. She’d be irritated by it,” he added, “but her old man was in the business, and she grew up around Sonny. She’d deal with it. It’s just…”

“What came after is harder, I guess. How else do you explain jumping into bed less than a week after her breakdown?” Nadine bit at her thumb.

“If it weren’t for the whole marriage part of it,” Johnny said slowly, “I bet I could spin that, too. Lonely. Tired. Wanting to feel something.” He met her eyes, straightened. “She’d understand, too.”

“Very understanding girlfriend—” Nadine stopped. “I don’t want to be like this. To feel jealous about what Lulu might or might not understand. Especially when all of this is happening because she’s not here. Because she’s not well. And I hate myself for not thinking that part of it through. For just leaning into impulse. I should know better by now.”

“Yeah, acting on impulse hasn’t gotten me much success, either,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. You were right in Vegas. It was a mistake. We should have stopped it then.”

“Definitely.” Nadine stood up. “But look, it was just a few times, right? We’ll stop now. It was a crazy few days, but it’s over now. Things are settled down. The PCPD took their swing, and they struck out. Ric will tell your family that I took your side, and that you’re in the clear, so you’re okay there.”

“Guess it’s a good thing Scott saw me and got annoyed. You’re right. Things will go back to normal—I’ll, uh, move out here—” He gestured at the sofa. “And we’ll just be roommates.”

“Right.” Nadine smiled. “I’m glad we got that sorted out. I feel better.”

“Me, too. It’s smarter this way,” he added. “Keeps everything cleaner. It’s all complicated enough, no point in making it worse.”

“Right,” she repeated, wondering why they were going in circles on this. “This is a good idea. I’m glad you said it first, but I was going to.”

“You were?” Johnny looked at her, and she swallowed hard, because he was looking at her.

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

She huffed, walked away a few steps, then whirled around, jabbing a finger at him. “You know what you were doing, so don’t do it again—”

“I absolutely don’t know what I was doing except agreeing with you.” He smirked. “You don’t want me to agree with you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. So we’re not having this conversation anymore.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Nadine fidgeted, folded her arms. “Okay.”

“You said that already.” Johnny’s mouth twitched. “Do you always repeat yourself?”

“Do you always—” She pressed her lips together. “Never mind. We need to get along for however long this lasts, so let’s just—I’ll go find the takeout menus.”

“Nadine.”

She stopped, her hand on the drawer, turned to find him still standing by the drawer. “What?”

“I don’t know.” He cleared his throat. “I guess I just wanted to say your name. Because when this conversation is over, it’s over. And we’re not going to have it again. So maybe I just want to keep it going.”

Nadine frowned, her hand falling away from the drawer, stepping towards him. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want the conversation to keep—” She stopped. “Johnny. We’re going to be smart about this, remember?”

“I do. It was my idea.”

“Okay, so it’s…done. Decided.” She licked her lips, and his eyes dropped. “Don’t do that—”

“Don’t do what?”

“You—we’re going in circles again, and you know what—I’m going to stop it. I’m going out.” Nadine snatched up her keys. “Because if we’re in the same apartment, we’re going to be stupid, and we decided we were done with that.”

“Yeah, I know but—” Johnny snagged her arm as she passed. “I’m trying to remember why again.” He drew her against him.

“Johnny—” Nadine bit her lip. “This is a really stupid idea.” She pressed her hands against his shoulders, intending to push him away, but instead her fingers curled into his shirt. “Never mind, we’ll be smart tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank God—” He yanked her against him and took her mouth.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth was tired of not being able to move without pain, of being stuck in one place, and having to think before she even took a breath. She wanted to be the one who put her boys to bed, listening to Jake babble through his bedroom routine, or Cameron retell his day at preschool for the fifth time.

But she’d done too much again today, and had been ordered by her grandmother to rest — they’d compromised by letting her sit in an oversized armchair in the bedroom, while Audrey had brought each boy in for a few minutes to cuddle with her, only to be whisked away to their room.

Jason had gone out after dinner for a meeting, but she also wondered if he was avoiding her. Since their brief interaction in the kitchen earlier that afternoon, they hadn’t been alone for more than a few minutes—and she wondered if there was even a point in attempting another discussion tonight —

Jason wasn’t ready to talk about Sonny, or maybe he’d said all there was to say. They’d connected a little the night he’d brought her home from the hospital, but she’d caught him at the end of the day when he was probably exhausted from everything that had happened, from her medical emergency to Sonny’s shooting—

She shouldn’t have to wait until he was at the end of his rope before he talked to her, and it had always been this way.

The penthouse fell silent as one by one, its residents went to their rooms and went to sleep. Elizabeth remained in the chair, determined to wait up for Jason, to try just one more time today—

But even she couldn’t quite manage to keep her eyes open. Her head listed to the side, her eyes growing heavy—she fell into a light doze, jerked awake when she felt hands trying to lift her.

“I’m awake—I’m—” Elizabeth opened her eyes—the lights had been switched off, the lamp on the night table the only source of illumination. She caught Jason’s face in the shadows, and her hands, which had curled into fists, unfurled against his shoulders. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.” Jason knelt by the chair. “You should have gone to bed. It’s late.”

“I—” She stifled a yawn. “I wanted to wait for you.”

Jason sighed, dipped his head. “Why?”

“Why—” Elizabeth stared at him, a bit incredulously. “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve barely had a quiet moment together since all of this happened—oof—” Her words were cut off when Jason lifted her in his arms. “Hey. I was talking—”

“You can talk from the bed,” he said, almost in a grunt. He laid her gently against the pillows, sat at the foot of the bed to tug off her socks. “What do you want to wear to sleep—”

“Stop!” At her abrupt words, Jason let her foot drop, then looked at her. “Stop ignoring me and stop changing the subject and stop making it all about my health! I am fine! Just stop.”

She hadn’t meant to do that, hadn’t meant to blow up, and shame crawled up her spine when she saw Jason just standing there at the end of the bed, his arms at his side, looking at her with bewilderment. “I’m sorry. I just—it’s like you’re not listening to me, and you’re treating me like a child. Like I don’t know how to take care of myself. That I can’t figure out how much sleep or rest I need.”

Jason opened his mouth, then shook his head. “You’re pushing too hard—”

“You mean, I’m pushing you too hard,” Elizabeth bit out and he closed his mouth. “I didn’t even say a word about Sonny—and there you go. You just shut down again.”

“I didn’t do anything—”

“Your entire body just went into that stone routine that I hate and I don’t know how to make it stop.” Her eyes filled and she looked away. “All I did was wait up to see you, and you’re making me feel stupid for even bothering. What am I even doing here? What’s the point?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “If you want to go back to your place—”

Now the tears spilled down her cheeks. “It’s that easy, isn’t it? It’s so easy for you. I don’t understand that. I don’t understand how you’ve always been able to do that, since the day we met. It gets too hard, and you just walk away, and I have to run after you to get anywhere—”

Something close to anger flashed in his eyes, and she saw his hand tighten in a fist at his side. “You think any of this is easy?”

“We’re having a fight, and you’re ready to ship me back to my house instead of just listening—”

“You said you didn’t know why you were here—I thought you wanted to—”

“Well, don’t think, okay? Because if I want to leave, I’ll tell you.” Elizabeth shifted, then winced, biting down on her lip. “I just—I waited to see you. That’s all. And you weren’t even…” She looked away. “It’s like I’m existing here. A piece of furniture you have to move around and deal with. I’m sorry, should I strip naked so you’ll pay attention to me?” she demanded. Jason’s eyes widened, and she pressed a fist against her mouth, wishing she could claw the words back.

But she couldn’t, and they just hung between them for a long terrible beat of silence. She could almost hear the sound of her heart pounding.

“I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” Elizabeth said finally.

“But you said it, so you must think it.” Jason’s tone was almost dull, lifeless, and she knew he’d crawled inside himself again. He’d already started to shut down, and she’d slammed the door.

“I don’t.” Elizabeth grimaced. “Not entirely.”

“Not entirely,” he echoed. Jason nodded, dragged a hand down his face. “Okay. Okay. I’m just—I’m going to go.”

“Wait—” But he was already at the door and in the hallway before the word had formed on her lips, and she was alone.

General Hospital: Kate’s Room

It was nearly midnight, and while the hospital never quite went quiet, there were fewer shoes squeaking along the hallway floors and the lights were dimmed. Kate lay awake, unable to sleep, her mind cluttered with regrets, grief, and bewilderment.

A week ago, she had been fitted for her wedding dress. She’d sent out the invitations. She’d been blissfully planning her future as Sonny’s wife, a dream from her childhood that she’d tucked away in a box. It had gathered dust all these years until they’d met each other again, and she’d thought she’d finally get to live out her girlish fantasy.

And now it was all over.

She heard the scuff of a different set of shoes, and turned her head on the pillow, watching as Jax appeared in the doorway of her hospital room.

“Visiting hours are over,” she said, her voice hoarse, scarcely above a whisper.

“I have some friends in the right places,” he said. He came in, closed the door, and came forward stopping to pick up the water pitcher. He filled the plastic glass on her tray, then held it out.

Kate reluctantly accepted it, sipped. “I don’t want you here.”

“I know. I heard you earlier. And yesterday.” He rocked back on his heels, took a deep breath. “I went home—well, I went to my room at the hotel. I don’t really have a home right now.”

“You don’t expect me to feel sorry for you, do you? Your wife is available. You could go home tonight.”

“She doesn’t want to see me at the moment, either.” Jax took a long, unsteady breath. “I told myself that I was protecting you, that I was keeping you safe. I’d seen Sonny’s life do nothing but hurt people, year after year, and I was finally in a position to stop it.” He looked up, met Kate’s gaze. “But it was vindictive. It was spite. I wanted to see him miserable, and I had the power to see it done. It gave me pleasure, Kate, to keep him from you.”

Her mouth trembled, and she closed her eyes. “You did it to hurt him.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t care what I’d want.”

“I—” Jax rubbed his chest. “I arrogantly assumed you’d wake up, realize you’d been a victim of Sonny’s life one too many times, and that you’d walk away. That’d you be glad—”

“Well, I’m not. God, you’d love that, wouldn’t you? You just so desperately need to believe that any woman who might love Sonny is just some silly twit who doesn’t know her own mind and can’t make choices. Can’t stand by them. Is that who Carly is?”

“No, no, it’s not.” Jax sighed. “He came here that day, Kate. Just before the shooting. Maybe an hour. He tried to see you.”

Kate’s eyes filled, her lips parted. “W-What?”

“He tried to see you, but you didn’t know yet we’d limited the visitors. So…the desk didn’t let him up. And then…”

“Then he went somewhere and got shot. That wouldn’t—he’d have been here. With me. It wouldn’t have happened.”

“I don’t—Carly told me that my actions—that it put Sonny on that pier—” Jax pressed his lips together, his voice faltered for a moment. “That what I did, what Olivia did—that we put Sonny on that pier, the way Carly’s choices put Michael in the warehouse. And I don’t give a damn about Sonny,” he bit out. “But you—I do care about you. And Morgan—” He looked away, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “I love that little boy, and he’s lost his brother. His father. Carly doesn’t even know that Sonny was here that day. Doesn’t know that we could have—”

“So, what, you’re here to apologize? Beg for forgiveness?”

“No.” His smile was quick, humorless. “For years, I’ve believed myself to be the better man. But when the time came to show it, I failed. As a husband, as a father, and as a friend. I wasn’t thinking of the people who loved Sonny. Who needed him. I knew he was upset, I knew he wasn’t handling any of this well, and I enjoyed telling him no. I learned something about myself with all of this, Kate, something I’m not proud of. I don’t like who I turned out to be.”

“That makes two of us. You can go now.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason made it down the stairs and to the front door before he stopped. He flattened both hands against the door, leaned his head against it. He could leave. He could climb on the bike, ignore all the speed limits, and just let it all disappear in the roar of the engine and wind—

But Elizabeth would still be upstairs, still waiting for him to stop running. Waiting for him to look at her, to listen to her.  He’d brought her here, plopped down in the center of his world, and he’d hoped it would be enough, but wasn’t. It would never be enough.

She’d tried over and over again to talk to him, to get him to open up, to look at her, and he’d shut her down at every turn. He wasn’t surprised she’d grown frustrated and lashed out, striking at him with harsh words. She hadn’t meant them, and he knew that—

But maybe there was a piece of her that wondered, that worried, that after this last year when most of their meetings had been at the safe house or a hotel room, and sex was all they’d really had time for—

Maybe she believed that there was nothing else she could give him. The fear that she still didn’t know, after all this time, how much he loved her, how much just looking at her helped to keep him grounded, gave him the strength to keep moving—

It was enough to make him stop running. He didn’t know what to say to her, but it wasn’t fair to keep avoiding it.

Jason stepped back, then went to the stairs. When he opened the door to the bedroom, he found Elizabeth by the dresser, one hand bracing against the wall, the other digging in a drawer. They stared at each other for a long moment, then he came fully into the room, closed the door.

“Can I help you find something?” he asked.

“I have it,” Elizabeth said, retrieving something blue from the drawer. “But, um, I can’t—I can’t get it on by myself. Could…could you help?”

“Yeah.” Jason wound her arm around his neck and helped her to sit on the bed. He helped her change from the T-shirt and leggings into a long, blue nightshirt. “I’m sorry,” he said, still kneeling in front of her, staring at a blue swirl on her shirt. He rested a hand on her bare knee, preparing to stand—

Instead, she stroked the top of his head, combing her fingers lightly through his hair. “I’m sorry, too. You know I didn’t mean what I said. Not—not the way it sounded. I just—I was so upset, and, well, it’s easier, sometimes, to pick a fight than it is to say I’m worried. You don’t like it when I worry about you.”

He liked it too much, he thought, closing his eyes, focusing on her touch. He leaned his cheek against her thigh, wishing he could just stay this way. Stay in this room. That everything outside of it would just…stop.

“I know you want me to tell you what I’m feeling, but I can’t.”

“I know.”

“You don’t.” Jason slowly lifted himself up, sat next to her, stared down at the carpet, at her toes curling into it. “Because I’m not feeling anything.”

“Jason.”

“I got the call that Sonny was shot and that it was bad, and I just—” He shook his head. “There’s nothing. I don’t feel anything.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Help me to sit back?”

“Yeah, okay.” He settled her back against the pillows, and went to change into a pair of sweatpants, thinking maybe he’d said enough for now, and she would let it go. He crawled into bed next to her.

“Come here.” Elizabeth held out her hand, and he frowned at her. “Come here.”

Jason slid towards her, and she put her arm around him, guiding him so that his head lay against her chest—the way he’d seen her hold Jake the other night. She stroked his hair, then his shoulders, her fingers dancing near his spine, and oddly, it felt right. Comforting.

“You’ve lost so many people, Jason.”

He tensed, but she kept stroking him. “I’m fine—” But there was a lick of something in the back of his throat. An itch. He swallowed, trying to get rid of it, but it was still there.

“I know you regret not having more time with Alan. And all the stress with Jake—that’s on me, I know. The trial. All of that couldn’t have helped. Then…Emily.”

He closed his eyes, but the tears were hot against the lids. His sister. His vibrant, precious little sister. “You lost her, too.”

“I know. But I didn’t lose my father, my sister, my son, and my brother in less than two years. You’ve been dealing with so much, and we kept asking for more. Me. Carly. Sonny. The world. It’s no wonder you can’t feel anything.”

“You can ask me for anything—”

“I know that. I’ve always known that. But I wish you knew you could ask me, too.”

Jason sighed, leaned up on one elbow, to find her looking at him somberly. “I—”

“I know that’s not always been true. I know it’s been hard to trust me—”

He wanted to argue with her, to say he’d always understood, but he couldn’t. She was right. He hadn’t always been able to turn to her. Hadn’t always been able to rely on her to stand by him.

“Since I woke up after the accident, and I realized you’d decided to change everything while I was unconscious, I’ve been bracing myself for you to take it back. To change your mind again, like you did in April. I don’t think I realized until tonight you’ve been doing the same. Not until you talked about me going back to the house, and I saw that you’d already accepted it.”

“I—” Jason cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“I know.” Elizabeth stroked the side of his face, and he leaned into her touch, kissing her fingers when they brushed his lips. “You’ve been waiting for Lucky to come back from California, change his mind, and me to let him. Because that’s what I always do. But I’m not going to do that this time. The boys, me, we’re yours, and we’re not going anywhere. When you know that I’m here, that I’m not going anywhere, you’ll be able to trust me the way you used to. I love you, and I’ll wait as long as it takes until you believe that.”

He closed his eyes and laid back down because she wasn’t going to push. Wasn’t going to ask questions. She understood, and he let that settle. Let himself settle. He could drift asleep just like this, with her fingertips dancing across his skin.

But then he spoke. He didn’t even know where it came from or that he was going to say the words, until they were already in the world.

“He’s not going to wake up.”

She said nothing, just continued running her fingers along his back. He continued. “The doctors are talking around it, not saying it’s permanent. They can’t say that yet, but they’re thinking it. They did another surgery, but it didn’t change anything. It’s…Michael. All over again. Michael won’t ever wake up. He’ll get older, but he’ll never grow up.” Pressure built behind his eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

The tears spilling down his cheeks now, but he still had words to say. “The last thing I told him was to handle it himself. I didn’t have time for him. Robin had called me, and you were in trouble, and I stopped thinking about him. He tried to handle it himself, and it didn’t work. Now he won’t wake up.” He closed his eyes, exhaling a shaky breath. “I won’t get that moment back. He’s gone. Just like Michael.”

He said nothing else after that, and they laid there until sleep claimed them.

TO BE CONTINUED

---

Author’s Note

This may seem like an abrupt ending for a book, but, well, I never intended These Small Hours to be split into two, much less three, books. (That should be in my obituary, honestly: She never meant to write a series.) I planned it as a tightly focused story on Jason & Elizabeth with Johnny & Nadine providing a secondary romance.

But then I started to write.

I wrote about Carly’s spiral after Sonny’s loss, I wrote about Patrick’s struggle to live up to his job while preparing for fatherhood, and I found myself writing about Jax finding that victory over Sonny was a bitter one—I love these dumb characters. Even when they make my life difficult. I even love the ones I hate, finding myself expanding on Lucky & Sam in rewrites, and even more Maxie. I just love ensemble stories and the way one event can ripple out and change the world if you let it.

Anyway, that’s a really poetic way of saying that during my rewrites, I realized that this story was just too long to finish in one release. It expanded to seventy-two chapters – we’d be here until sometime this spring with me trying to slog through the draft with how long each step of the process takes me.

Breaking it into pieces gets you the story faster, and it keeps me fresher.

Book 1 (Undone) breaks the world into pieces. Book 2 begins the painful process of stitching it back together. Book 3 reveals the world changed.

I left Book 1 here because this is a chance for our characters to take a breath. Patrick sees some light at the end of the tunnel. Kate, Jax, Carly – they’re all at a crossroads. And Johnny and Nadine are just beginning to learn that they’re stronger together, even if they don’t understand why. Jason is finally facing the magnitude of what’s happened to him. Elizabeth found the words she worried would never come, and with it – a new sense of strength and confidence in what comes next.

As for what that is – you’ll just have to wait and see.

These Small Hours, Book 2: Shadows coming December 17, 2024

All day starin’ at the ceilin’ makin’
Friends with shadows on my wall
All night hearing voices tellin’ me
That I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for somethin’
Hold on, feelin’ like I’m headed for a breakdown
And I don’t know why
– Unwell, Matchbox Twenty

---

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Zacchara Estate: Study

“So you agree that you don’t get any percentage of the trust fund once you divorce,” Trevor said, scrawling some notes on a legal pad.

Nadine glanced at the doorway where Claudia was lurking, her glass of wine in her hand refilled. The other woman toasted her, and Nadine focused her attention back on the lawyer.

“No. No, I don’t want any of it.”

“And it won’t count as income earned during the marriage—”

“Dad, you can’t just make her sign away everything,” Ric admonished, taking a seat across from his father, next to Nadine. “It’s unfair—”

“Why? She said it’s not about the money—”

“They should split everything earned during the marriage down the middle. That’s just fair.” Ric looked at her. “Including his trust fund which he receives monthly.”

“He does?” Nadine said blankly. That explained a few things.

Ric nodded, but his attention was focused on his father, and the two continued to bicker with Ric almost sounding like Nadine’s attorney.

Exhausted by it, Nadine pushed away from the table. “Listen, I told you I’d sign whatever you want that says I keep what’s mine and Johnny keeps what’s his. You two can argue about it and put whatever you decide into a document. I’ll sign it. Other than that, I really don’t know what else we have to talk about.”

She slid past Claudia in the entry way and tried to remember which way the living room was because it led to the stairs in the foyer.

Instead, Claudia gripped her arm and spun her back. “All John told me on the phone was that he’d taken you to Vegas and married you.” Claudia released it and Nadine stumbled. “You tell me right now what you’re up to with my brother.”

“Exactly what he told you. And you don’t scare me. Not—” Nadine swallowed when Claudia lifted one slim dark brow. “Not even a little.”

“I scare everyone, Little Miss Sunshine. You’re a witness, aren’t you? John shot Sonny, and he married you to keep your mouth shut. That’s what I thought until you went in that room and turned down all the money. So how exactly is he keeping you from going to the PCPD? Because I remember how self-righteous and justice-minded you really are. You think I’m going to trust you with my brother’s freedom?”

“Johnny and I have an understanding that works for us.” Nadine lifted her chin, even though her heart was pounding. Johnny hadn’t been kidding about his family. “If you have questions about our relationship, then you take it up with him.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey, I will. But if I’m not satisfied, maybe I’ll drop some hints in my father’s ears. You see…Anthony Zacchara doesn’t wait for evidence before he takes action. You remember how ruthless he can be, don’t you? Do you want to know what he was planning if John didn’t call in by noon today?”

Nadine swallowed hard. “What?”

“Oh, yeah, Daddy had a deadline.” Claudia smirked. “And if John had missed it, well, let’s just say there are a few people in Port Charles who would have had a very bad day.”

Nadine stepped back. “If you expect me to be scared and tell Johnny you threatened me, you’re going to be disappointed.” She wished her voice was steadier, but she forged on anyway. “Whatever you or your lawyers or your father think of me, I don’t care. I only care what Johnny thinks.”

“Uh, huh. Sure. You tell yourself that.” Claudia scrutinized her for another moment, then tipped her head towards the door. “The stairwell is that way. John’s room is on the second floor, third room on the left.”

General Hospital: ICU

Carly scribbled a signature across another form, then slid the clipboard across the desk to Epiphany. “Is there anything else?”

“Not for the moment.” Epiphany hesitated. “Did you have any more questions for Dr. Drake? He was looking for you after the surgery earlier.”

“I went to the hotel for a meeting.” Carly picked through her purse, trying to find her phone. “And I assumed if there was a change, he’d call.” She flicked her gaze to Epiphany briefly. “And he didn’t.”

“No. No, no change. All the same—”

“I appreciate it, Epiphany, but this isn’t—it’s not going to be April.” She finally located her phone, saw the missed call from her mother. She looped the strap over her shoulder. “I’m not calling in doctors from around the world hoping for a miracle. Patrick was right about…about that. He’s right about this.”

She turned around, intending to head for the elevators, but ran directly into Scott. “Oh, hell. What do you want? I thought you were out of town.”

The special prosecutor lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I come in peace, Carly. I came home earlier, and I wanted to get caught up on where the investigation was at. Mac doesn’t seem to have much in the way of suspects.”

Carly pressed her lips together. “Not that he’s told me, no.”

Scott glanced around. “Where’s Morgan? Visiting the patient?”

“At home with his family, I hope. Other than that, I don’t know. There’s nothing to tell you, Scott. Nothing that you don’t already know. Someone shot Sonny on the pier, and he’s laying unresponsive in a coma, with no signs of waking up.” She walked towards the bank of elevators, and Scott hurried after her.

“Life support, I saw. You’re leaving the machines on?” Scott asked.

“It’s not that kind of—don’t play stupid, Scott. You read the file. Mac had to have read Patrick’s report.” Carly tightened her hand around the strap of her purse. “He can breathe, and his heart is beating. But he might never wake up. We really won’t know for a few more weeks. I don’t know what he was doing on the pier. I don’t know anything, and I really just want to go home.”

“I get that, but I’d think after everything you’ve gone through, you’d be a little more interested in answers—did you know Johnny Zacchara hopped a flight to Vegas just a few hours after the shooting?” Scott demanded. “You’re okay with letting him get away with another murder—”

“Sonny isn’t dead!” Carly snapped. “And Johnny didn’t kill Logan, Scott! You damn well know it since you browbeat my little cousin into a mental breakdown! Do you have any shame for what you’ve done? Sonny did something awful to your daughter a lifetime ago, and I am sorry for that, but it doesn’t give you the right—”

“Sonny’s a criminal, I have every right to go after him, and after what happened to Michael, to your own son, I don’t know why you can’t see that whole way of life is nothing but death waiting to happen, but maybe you don’t care about any of that as long as you have that fat bank account and big house—”

Carly inhaled sharply, took a step forward, and might have actually slapped the special prosecutor, but a hand snagged her wrist as it rose in the air.

“That won’t solve anything,” Jax said, stepping between them. “As much as he might deserve it.” He flicked his eyes back to the scowling attorney. “Scott, haven’t you browbeaten enough women this year? Are you trying for a record?”

“One day, Carly, one day, you’ll see what I do! I just hope it’s not before you lose someone else,” Scott threatened. He stalked in the opposite direction, but Carly didn’t exhale an easy breath until he’d turned a corner and had disappeared from sight.

“Are you all right?” Jax asked, and she looked at him, then down at the hand he still held.

“People keep asking that question,” Carly said. “But no one ever really wants the answer, do they?” She lifted her eyes to his, tears blurring her view. “It’s like how are you? No one wants to know that. They just want confirmation that they don’t need to worry about you. That you’re not going to do something stupid. So, yeah, Jax, I’m just fine. You can go—”

“Carly—”

“No. No,” she insisted, tugging her hand from his. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to step in like a savior and ask me some bullshit question because you don’t care about the answer. You don’t. Where have you been for the last few days? With Kate, making sure that Sonny couldn’t see her.”

Jax looked away, his hands in his pockets. “I thought—”

“You tell yourself it was to protect her, and sure, maybe part of you means that. But you did it because you could. Because you wanted to stick it to Sonny. Well, congratulations, Jax. It worked. Sonny couldn’t see Kate, couldn’t get an update on her condition, and he spiraled out of control—”

“You’re blaming me—”

“Why not?” Carly demanded. “You blame me for what happened in the church, what happened in that warehouse—” Her voice faltered, and she had to take a deep breath. “And you’re right. All of that is my fault. Losing Michael that way—”

“No—”

“It is. Don’t you think I know it? Don’t you think I know I could have left Michael with AJ as his father, and he’d be with me right now? Alive and perfect and amazing—but I had to have complete control, I couldn’t give an inch and now I’ve lost everything!” She jabbed the button for the elevator. “So, yes, my choices put Michael in that warehouse. And yours put Sonny on that pier.”

The doors opened and she stepped inside the car, pressed the button for the lobby. “I hope you’re happy. You finally won. You’re the last man standing.”

Zacchara Estate: Johnny’s Bedroom

“I am so glad we’re not going to live here.”

Johnny glanced up from his suitcase, an unfolded shirt in his hand. Nadine had closed the door behind her, leaning up against it like she’d run a marathon. It had been a calculated risk leaving her to deal with his family and the lawyers alone, but he’d wanted to see what they’d do if he wasn’t in the room.

It looked like he had his answer. “What did they do?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” She forced a smile. “Can I help you pack? It’s a long drive back to Port Charles.”

“Nadine.”

She folded her arms, looked away. “Did you know about the deadline?”

“What?” Johnny squinted. “What deadline?”

“Your sister is making it sound like your father was going to burn down the city if you didn’t check in. She sounded very sure of it. I just wanted to know—”

“I didn’t check my messages until this morning,” Johnny interrupted. “So, yeah, by that point, I knew I had a deadline. I called her right after. Do you think I would have waited that long if I’d known?”

Nadine hesitated. “No, but—”

“And that deadline it wasn’t for me.” Johnny pressed his lips together. “It was for Jason to produce proof of life. Because if my father had been in Jason’s position yesterday, neither of us would have made it out of the penthouse alive.”

“Oh.” She sat on the bed. “What would he have done?”

“You spent a night running from him last year,” Johnny said, turning back to his dresser. “I think you have a pretty good idea. Why do you think I pushed you to do this?”

“I don’t—I don’t know.”

He closed the drawer, sat next to her. “My dad needs to see you as on my team. If he thinks you won’t say anything, that you can’t hurt me or put me in jail, he’ll leave you alone. That’s all I need him to do. And once all of this settles down, once the PCPD moves on from this, we can figure out what to do with the rest of it.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone to deal with any of them. I should have known they’d make everything worse.”

But maybe he’d had a sliver of hope that this time would be different. He didn’t know where that optimism had come from, but it was dead now.

Johnny returned back to his dresser, grabbed a few more articles of clothing, then dumped them into the suitcase. Trust Claudia to make everything worse somehow. He’d thought she’d at least give Nadine a chance—but not even his sister wasn’t on his side.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re upset with them now, and I didn’t want that.” Nadine stood. “It really wasn’t that bad. I think I just confused them, you know? They don’t know how to react to me. Like your sister. I guess she figured I wanted money to keep my mouth shut, so you promised me your trust fund or whatever, so now when I don’t want it, she doesn’t know what to think.”

“Well, that’s a common theme,” he said with a grunt. He zipped the suitcase and set it on the floor before going to Nadine. “You’ll barely have to deal with them, okay? And as long as I don’t end up in lockup, they can’t complain.” He rested his hands on her upper arms. “But I’m sorry.”

“They’re just worried about you. Even your father. I think money, violence, and threats are the only way they know how to show it. It’s their love language.” Nadine smiled weakly. “It’s weird and strange, and not what I’d want from my family, but then again mine is mostly deadbeats, actually dead, or in comas after murdering innocent patients. So there’s that. I think we’re actually even when you look at it that way.”

Johnny opened his mouth but closed it. “I never know where conversations with you are going to end up.” He leaned his forehead against hers, stroked her arms lightly. “Let’s get out of here.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do since we got here.”

Johnny only gave the piano in the conservatory a passing glance, carrying his suitcase in one hand, and keeping Nadine’s hand in the other. Anthony and Trevor were waiting in the foyer like a pair of vultures looking for one last scrap of meat to pick from their bones.

“I’ll call you when the papers are ready to be signed,” Trevor said, resting one hand on the handle to Anthony’s wheelchair.

“Yeah, whatever. You have my number.” Johnny shoved open the door, scowled one last time at his father. “Anything you want to add?”

“I wish you all the joy in the world,” Anthony drawled, and Johnny just rolled his eyes. He ushered Nadine out the door and closed it behind them.

“What do you want to do about this?” Trevor wanted to know.

“I want separate tails on both of them,” Anthony said, gripping the top of the wheels. “I want to know everything about her.”

General Hospital: Conference Room

Patrick sorted through the notes Spinelli had made, squinting at the scribbled handwriting. “How much further do you want to go back?”

The tech cracked the cap on another plastic bottle of orange soda, then twisted it off. “I’ve confirmed the glitches going back to at least July, which coincides with that software patch I told you about earlier.” Spinelli took a long gulp of the soda, then wiped his mouth. “And then, I, uh, located a list of clients that still use that machine and checked their coding. That took most of the afternoon.”

“Located and checked their coding?” Patrick grimaced. “I don’t imagine you told them what you needed it for—”

“They don’t even know anyone was in their system, I give you my word. But the Jackal knows that discretion was most important, and, well, it matters if this glitch is system wide or just confined to General Hospital, doesn’t it?”

Patrick sat down, rubbed his cheek. “It’s just us, isn’t it?”

“I regret to deliver that unwelcome news. Yes, the glitch so far appears to be unique to GH servers. I thought if I could go back in the machine’s records another six months to determine precisely when it arrived, you would have a better sense of how widespread the problems were, and we could determine how many patients might have been affected. The Jackal could begin a database of the affected medications so that you can research the patient files.”

“Yeah. Yeah, go back as far as you need to. That’s fine. How—how did this glitch work? We could never find the patterns—”

“Every seventy-fifth request for certain medications triggered the misfire. The machine would encode a different medication instead. But because the inventory was hospital wide, the requests came from all over the building,” Spinelli told him. “You were looking at patterns linked to the machines that were simply not there to see.”

“Christ. This makes my head hurt.” Patrick scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Okay. Okay. Thank you. It’s good to have some answers. Are you—look, I want to know how bad this is, but I also want to know who went after Elizabeth. Are you working on that?”

“The more I know about the code and how it operated, the easier it will be to locate the hacker’s signature,” Spinelli said. “I wish I could assure you—and Stone Cold—that the answer is as simple as finding the correct file, but alas, the Jackal can offer no such guarantee. What I can do—what I’ve already begun—is a patch to correct the glitch and build a firewall to protect the hospital from further mischief.”

“All right. Whatever else you need, let me know.” Patrick got to his feet. “Thank you for this, Spinelli. I mean that.”

“A hospital is supposed to save lives, not take them,” Spinelli said. “And well, this is personal.” He lifted his eyes to the other man. “Someone tried to take another loved one from Stone Cold. That cannot stand.”

Nadine’s Apartment: Living Room

“Um, there’s not much.” Nadine shoved the door open, and flicked on the lamp near her door, illuminating the small living space of her apartment. The living room was a rectangular space that opened in the kitchen with its meager row of cabinets and a counter that curved out to provide a border between the living and kitchen area. There were two doors on the far side of the apartment.

Nadine wasn’t ashamed of where she lived — it was clean and in a good neighborhood, but the furniture had been sourced from a flea market and most of the decor was from a thrift shop. Hardly the Zacchara Estate with its large, sweeping rooms.

Johnny set his suitcase down. “Anywhere that’s not Crimson Pointe is fine by me.”

“Yeah, I get that. Um—” Nadine went towards one of the doors, pushed it open. “Bathroom. And—” Pushing open the other. “Bedroom.” Her cheeks flushed as Johnny came to look inside — the double bed took up most of the room, with a nightstand on one side, and her dresser crammed into a corner. “I could figure out a drawer or something. There’s a closet…”

She went into the room and jerked open the closet. “I only put a few things in here, so you can have this—” She glanced at him, standing in the doorway to her bedroom. “Or maybe we could get you another dresser or something. I could figure out where to put it—”

Nadine glanced at the room again, squinting. If it wasn’t a big one, maybe—

“We’ll figure all that out later.” Johnny came in, stroked her arms, which she realized he’d started a habit of doing maybe because he knew it distracted her. “Honestly? I’m starving. You want to order a pizza?”

A pizza did not require a conversation about the bedroom or where his things would go, so absolutely, Nadine wanted to order a pizza and move far away from the bed.

“Yes. Yes. I have takeout menus in the kitchen.” She shoved past him, went into the kitchen to jerk open the drawer. Her hands were shaking slightly as she sorted through the collection, and she felt like an idiot when his larger hand closed over hers, trapping the menus on the counter. “Johnny—”

“Just because you and I slept together this morning two thousand miles away in Las Vegas does not mean I expect you to sleep with me every night,” he told her, and her chest eased slightly even as the heat in her cheeks doubled. “I can take the couch, it’s no big deal—”

“Well, it’s—” Nadine looked at her small sofa, bit her lip. “I should take it. I’m shorter than you—”

“Not by much, and it’s your apartment—”

“But you’re—” She gestured with another hand. “Um, there’s more of you, I mean. Like—in the muscular sense, oh stop looking at me like that like you’re laughing at me, but you’re turned on by it—it messes me up and now—” Nadine hissed, curled her hand in his shirt and dragged him against her. He was still laughing when she kissed him.

They did eventually order pizza, but it wasn’t until much later.

Pier 51: Warehouse

Jason stepped out onto the cargo dock, Francis and Cody flanking just behind him. On the other side of the dock stood Andrei Karpov with two of his men.

“Ah, Mister Morgan, it’s so nice of you to join us.” Andrei smiled, the curve of lips reminding Jason of a shark. “You are ready to do business. This is good.”

“No.”

Karpov closed his mouth, stared at him. “I don’t understand. You call this meeting to begin negotiations—”

“I called this meeting because you seem to have trouble with the word no,” Jason interrupted, his tone flat. Emotionless. “I’ve said it over and over again for months. You want to use my shipping lanes, my resources to move your product between Canada and New York, and the answer is no. It will never change.”

“You make a mistake in turning me away—”

“And you make one in continuing the conversation when the answer has already been given. Tell me, Karpov, what did you think would happen when you delivered Kate Howard’s shooter to Sonny?” Jason lifted his brow. “Did you think Sonny would agree to join you?”

“I merely wanted to do a favor for a man who had suffered a grievous wrong—”

“If you thought Sonny would do anything other than confront Johnny Zacchara with your information, then you’re either not that bright or it’s exactly what you wanted.” Jason smirked as Karpov scowled. “I think you’re not that bright. You thought it would force Sonny into your camp and he’d tell you everything you need to know about my organization. Well, good luck with that. And with the DEA.”

“The DE—what you talk about? What does he say?” Karpov turned to one of his men. “What DEA?”

“Oh, give it—” Jason glanced at the phone one of his men held up for him, noted the time. “Maybe ten minutes before your lawyer—Sasha, wasn’t it? Before she calls to tell you your freighter in the harbor has been raided. You’re not the only one who can call in some favors. Come to Port Charles again, Karpov, and you’ll know what it means to really make a mistake.”

We were drawn from the weeds
We were brave like soldiers
Falling down under the pale moonlight
You were holding me
Like someone broken
And I couldn’t tell you, but I’m telling you now
Just let me hold you while you’re falling apart
Just let me hold you and we’ll both fall down
– Ever the Same, Rob Thomas

---

Friday, October 3, 2008

Harborview Towers: Lobby

Nadine paced the short length of space between the sofas in the lobby of Harborview Towers, wringing her hands. She didn’t even know why she was here — not really. Only that the exchange with Leyla had cut deeply — her friend had looked at her the way everyone had a year ago.

The whispers would start again, Nadine realized. She hadn’t really been in Port Charles long enough to have a reputation of her own. She was still Jolene’s sister, that crazy bitch who’d hurt so many people and put the hospital in danger. And now she’d married Johnny Zacchara days after he’d haunted the hospital trying to see his mentally ill girlfriend — married him in the wake of Sonny’s shooting — no matter what choice Nadine made, which side she took —

There would always be people who would congratulate themselves for never trusting Nadine in the first place. For never looking past the Crowell name. And there would be others who castigated themselves for ever giving Nadine a chance at all.

“Nadine?”

She turned at the sound of Jason’s approach. He was dressed to leave — with a leather jacket thrown over his sweater. “Oh. You came down so fast. I wasn’t—” She licked her lips. “I’m sorry to bother you. You’ve already done so much for me, and I feel terrible—”

“It’s okay. I was on my way out. Are you okay?” Jason tipped his head. “Johnny left me a message that you were back, and things had gone the way you planned.” He hesitated. “Has something changed?”

“No. Yes. No.” Nadine sank onto one of the sofas, put her head in her hands. “I can’t do this. I promised, and I thought I could, and I was doing okay, but now I’m here, and it’s so real, and I’m not going to be able to do it.”

She heard him move and looked up to find Jason sitting in one of the chairs next to the sofa. “If you need a place to go, or to stay—if you’re worried about the Zaccharas—”

“How can you help us?” Nadine asked dully, staring down at the tiled floors. “Johnny shot your best friend. Everyone said you were like family. And I’m protecting him.” Jason fell silent, and she squeezed her eyes shut, mortified. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, that’s not fair and it’s none of my business.”

“Sonny has blamed Johnny for everything that’s gone wrong since the first day the kid came to Port Charles.” Jason’s quiet, calm words jerked Nadine’s eyes open, and she met Jason’s gaze. “Has he told you about the asylum?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Sonny shot first,” Jason said, and Nadine exhaled slowly. Then nodded. “And he shot at Johnny, could have killed anyone else around him, including you. None of what’s happened since then changes that fact.”

“No. No, I guess it doesn’t.” She chewed her bottom lip. “But—”

“Maybe some men in this business…” Jason hesitated. “Men like Anthony or Trevor Lansing wouldn’t care about the truth. Johnny knew that. He knew his father wouldn’t care that Sonny shot first or that Johnny was trying to protect himself and you. You’re a witness, Nadine, who puts his son at the scene of a crime.”

“I understand all of that, I do. A-And believe me, after telling them what we did in Vegas—” Nadine rubbed her hands across her thighs. “But—Sonny is still your friend.”

“As long as Sonny blamed Johnny for everything bad that happened to him, we were always going to end up here.” Jason’s expression was grim. “I can’t go back and do a better job of keeping the peace. I can’t fix what’s happened, Nadine. Or make Sonny wake up. I can’t stop you from going on the docks or Johnny from taking Lulu to the church. None of that can be changed. All we can do is think about tomorrow. What happens next.”

Jason waited a moment. “I want it to stop,” he continued, his voice low, and she thought it sounded a little strained. “I want the violence to stop. I want my family to be safe. I understand what happened and why Sonny is in that hospital bed. If making sure Johnny gets away with it is the price I have to pay to keep the people that matter out of danger, then it’s worth it.”

Nadine’s smile was wobbly as she nodded. “Yeah, okay. I can understand that. If I, um, if I changed my mind, if I let the PCPD know what happened, Scott would drag Johnny into a trial. And maybe he wouldn’t get lucky this time. And judging from the way Anthony and Claudia Zacchara acted yesterday, I don’t think it’ll take much to push them. It’s just…” She swiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. And I’m making it your problem when I should just take care of myself. It’s just—everyone’s looking at me like I did this horrible thing because Lulu isn’t well, and I just don’t know what to do.”

She cleared her throat, looked away from Jason, pushed herself to her feet. “And it’s still not your problem to solve. I’m sorry.”

Nadine was halfway to the door before she heard Jason call her name. She turned back to find him with a phone at his ear, gesturing for her to come back. “What’s wrong?”

Jason ended the call, put the phone in his pocket. “A friend at the PCPD. Baldwin just dragged Johnny in for questioning.”

Nadine exhaled slowly. “Oh.”

“His lawyer’s on his way, but there’s a chance that Baldwin will hold him for as long as he can. That’s seventy-two hours—”

“But that’s not fair. He—” Nadine shook her head. “Thank you. Thank you for telling me.”

She left then, shoving the door to the street open. The brisk October wind hit her cheeks, chilling the streaks left by the tears she’d shed inside.

She had a choice to make, and there was nothing else Jason Morgan could do to help her.

PCPD: Squad Room

When the double doors to the squad room sprang open and Johnny Zacchara was led in, his hands cuffed behind his back and Scott Baldwin following with a satisfied, smug expression on his face, Mac thought about going out the window in his office and submitting his resignation on his way to Bali.

Because he did not get paid nearly enough to put up with Scott, his vendettas, and refusal to listen to basic common sense.

But instead, Mac remained standing in the center of the room, and just tipped his head towards the interrogation room. “Put him in there,” he told the uniform whose hand was wrapped around Johnny’s bicep. “I’m sure his lawyer is already on his way.”

“He will be when I get my phone call,” Johnny said.

“I know Ric’s number, I’ll take care of it,” Mac said.

“Appreciate it.”

With that, the uniformed cop tugged the younger man towards the room, and Mac turned his attention on Scott. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You had my uniforms arrest him without a warrant?”

“I had probable cause,” Scott said, folding his arms, a bullish light in his eyes. “You weren’t bothering to do anything—”

Mac shook his head. “I’m not doing with this you. I’m not. Ric is going to come down here, he’ll get Johnny released in twelve seconds, and then we’re going to be even less than nowhere—”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Please. We’ll hold him for at least seventy-two hours, which will give that new wife of his the time and space to think about her actions. Why don’t you call her? Let her know the hubby has been dragged in?”

“Nadine Crowell flew across the country to marry him, Scott. She had hours to change her mind—”

“With Zacchara breathing down her neck? Playing the sympathy card? The brooding, misunderstood victim?” Scott snorted. “We give her a few days, maybe she changes her mind.”

“And then Ric files a harassment charge—”

“I got probable cause to bring him in. Maybe we don’t get to charge him today,” Scott shot back, “but we’re going to do this, Mac. I’m not letting Johnny put another body in the morgue—”

“He didn’t put the first one in there,” Mac said quietly. “And you know it. You don’t like Lulu’s story. Or that Maxie’s statement backs it up. Don’t forget, Lulu stopped your son from going after my daughter.”

Scott flinched, and Mac felt a small spiral of shame. “That’s the story they all came up with, but I don’t believe it. And Logan? He’s not here to defend himself. So I’ll wait right here until that lawyer shows up, and then we’re going to do this whether you like it or not.”

“Fine, but we’ll do it my way. You can’t question him, Scott,” Mac cut in. “Unless you want to be a witness in your own case. So shut up and let me do my job.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“This was the worst time to get into a car accident,” Elizabeth muttered, leaning back against the sofa, pressing a hand to her abdomen where her long-sleeved shirt covered the bandage from her surgery.

“Did you say something, darling?” Audrey asked, leading Cameron in from the kitchen, his little hand tucked in hers.

“No. No. Are you leaving for school, baby?” Elizabeth asked, forcing herself to sit up, wincing when Cameron came forward to hug her. “You’re sure you’re okay to take him, Gram?”

“Well, if it were just me, likely not. But Jason has offered me a driver.” Audrey looked through her purse, then put the strap over her shoulder. “He’s a nice young man. Milo something or other.”

“Giambetti. He’s one of…I know his brother.” And Elizabeth wondered, sadly, if Max and his brother had returned to Jason’s employ with Sonny in the hospital. There was so much going on, so many changes, and she couldn’t do anything to help. She was useless—

But what if she hadn’t had the accident? Where would they be then?

That thought had been lurking for a while now, and with nothing to distract her as Audrey left for the school with Cameron in tow, and Jake taking his morning nap, Elizabeth didn’t have anything else to think about.

If Elizabeth had made it home from the airport — this would all still be a secret, she thought. Because Jason had come forward only because she was injured, because it had made him realize that time was short, and they’d wasted too much of it. And maybe he’d been a little worried that her accident was connected to Kate’s shooting. He’d acted impulsively that first night, and every action since then had stemmed from that choice.

But if there hadn’t been the accident, then Jason would have been free to focus on Kate’s shooting. Maybe Sonny wouldn’t have felt the need to do it on his own or confront Johnny Zacchara.

Maybe Sonny wouldn’t be lying unresponsive in a hospital room.

Elizabeth pressed her hands to her face, took a deep breath, and shoved all of that out of her head. Whatever the reasons were, she and Jason were now together in the eyes of the world, and the people who mattered knew about Jake. Jason was dealing with whatever was wrong at the hospital, Kate’s shooting, Johnny Zacchara, and Sonny’s situation. She could sit here wallowing in all of that and creating more doubts in her own mind, or she could just suck it up and focus on getting better. Getting stronger.

The sooner she was up and moving around, the sooner Jason could cross her off the list of problems to worry about. And maybe then he’d stop tiptoeing around her and he’d let her help him. He’d talk to her, and she wouldn’t feel like she was a guest. Even her own grandmother seemed more at home in Jason’s penthouse than Elizabeth did, and that couldn’t continue.

She’d dreamed about Jason fighting for their life together, and he’d done it. She’d been unconscious for a lot of it but Elizabeth wasn’t going to let that bother her. He’d made an impulsive choice that night, but he’d still made it. So she’d make sure he didn’t regret it.

Elizabeth found the cell phone Audrey had left next to her, and called the one person who might understand.

“Hello?”

“Robin. Hey. How are you feeling? Is this a good time?”

“Well,” Robin said, with a sigh, “it’s as good a time as any. I’ve docked myself on the sofa, and Patrick’s at work. I thought about getting up, but I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“I remember that stage of pregnancy,” Elizabeth replied with a smile. “Five weeks until the date, right?”

“It can’t be fast enough. I need this baby out.” Robin waited for a beat. “But how are you? Patrick told me what happened at the hospital. Please tell me Jason’s filled you in by now.”

“He did. He waited until yesterday, but I know. It’s…a lot. Jason said this morning that they think they know how it was done, so it’s probably over at least as far as GH is concerned.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Gram seemed relieved, but I don’t know if it’s enough to know how.”

“Patrick tried to convince me he’s going to put this away, but I don’t believe him. Or Jason, if he’s saying the same. You almost died, Elizabeth. I don’t think any of us are going to forget that.”

“No.” Elizabeth shifted, wincing as pain slid sharply through her. She’d declined the pain meds her grandmother had given her, opting for simple over the counter Tylenol, but that meant she was feeling a lot right now. “I’m…I’m sorry about Sonny.”

Robin was quiet for a long moment. “I’ve been avoiding it. Not thinking about it. It still doesn’t feel real,” she finally said. “I can’t imagine what Jason is going through. How he’s handling it. If he’s handling it at all, which I doubt.”

“He’s doing what he always does,” Elizabeth murmured, looking around the penthouse, at all the pieces of evidence that four new people were staying here, including two small children. “He spends all his time taking care of everyone else and puts himself at the bottom of the list.”

“Are you going to let him get away with that? Because I can’t chase him, and you know Carly isn’t going to try very hard.”

“It’s hard to push Jason into taking care of himself,” Elizabeth admitted. “Because he spends all his time taking care of you, and you end up feeling selfish for demanding more from him.”

Robin sighed. “Some things never change.”

Metro Court Hotel: Lobby

Carly sighed when she saw her mother pass through the hotel’s entrance and turned to the receptionist behind the desk. “Jenny, can you call my office? Tell Ang to hold that next meeting.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Jacks.”

Carly winced at the use of her married name. She was never changing her name again, she thought. Not that she’d ever be stupid enough to get married again. Three husbands were more than enough for a lifetime. “Mama,” she said, meeting her mother halfway, kissing her cheek. “What brings you by? You want a late breakfast?”

“No. No. I’m running a few errands for Audrey, and then heading downtown to volunteer at the clinic.” Bobbie squeezed her hand. “I wanted to see how it went when you told Morgan yesterday.”

Carly winced, and her mother sighed. “I meant to, but I got caught up at the hospital, and then I ran into Scott and Jax. We had a fight—by the time I got home, I just—”

“Carly—”

“I’m really not trying to avoid this, I promise,” Carly said. She pressed her clipboard to her chest, wrapping her arms around her torso. “I know I have to tell him. It’s just—it’s hard.”

“I know, honey. But if you keep avoiding it, you’re going to lose the chance to do it yourself. You should know better than anyone. Tell the truth, or someone else will tell it for you.”

PCPD: Interrogation Room

Johnny twisted his hand so that he could rub his other wrist, sore from the cuffs that Scott had refused to have removed, even though Johnny was locked up in the interrogation room.

He skulked around the room, stopping in front of the window that usually had a view into the squad room, but the shade had been drawn from the other side, so there was nothing to indicate who was out there or if Ric had made his way up from Crimson Pointe yet.

He knew Scott didn’t have anything on him. If there was evidence to be found, Mac would have already brought him in — and the police commissioner had looked pissed to see Johnny at all. The arrest was bullshit — but Johnny wasn’t ready to trust that Baldwin didn’t have an ace up his sleeve.

And there was always the chance Nadine would change her mind. All she’d have to do is go to Scott, admit they’d gotten married to keep her from testifying against him, and the spousal privilege would be invalidated. Johnny didn’t think she’d do that, but he didn’t know her that well, not really.

She had a sense of right or wrong that was almost admirable, except he knew it got her into trouble all the time. And she was impulsive — which was mostly how they’d gotten everything all twisted up. He knew she was having second thoughts — she’d woken this morning and everything had seemed so much more real—he’d seen it in her eyes when she’d all but run from the bedroom earlier.

And now he’d have to call her because he’d be in lockup for however long Scott could hold him. Unless Ric worked some sort of special magic—

“He’s right in here.” Johnny turned at the sound of Mac’s voice and saw the door open. Nadine came around the corner, and Johnny stared at her, confused. She still wore the leggings and hooded jacket she’d left the apartment in several hours ago, her blonde hair pulled back from her face, but there were tear stains on her cheeks and her eyes looked a little red.

“What are you doing here?” Johnny demanded. “Did they arrest you, too?” He turned furious eyes to Mac. “You don’t have a damn right—”

“She showed up on her own,” Mac interrupted, sounding almost bored, “and said she wanted to talk to you. Since I don’t want you here at all, I figured what the hell, right?” He pulled the door shut.

“How?” Johnny cleared his throat, stopped. “Why are you here?”

“Um, I don’t know—are they recording us?” Nadine’s eyes flicked up to the camera in the corner. “Because we don’t have an expectation of privacy, right? That’s what they told me the first time I got arrested.”

Johnny opened his mouth. “The first time?”

“Back in Ohio. I was arrested at a protest. I punched a cop,” Nadine folded her arms. “Anyway. Um, I heard they brought you in. I figured you used your call for your lawyer, so I just…” She bit her lip, came closer to him, her blue eyes avoiding looking at him directly. “I showed up here.”

“You don’t have to—” Johnny started. “This is…” He wanted to tell her it wasn’t what she’d signed on for, but it’d be a lie. Of course she’d signed up for this. It had literally been the basis for their mad dash for Las Vegas.

But the conversation at the penthouse that day felt like a fever dream now, like so much of the last two days did. Nadine hadn’t signed up for any of this when he’d caught her at the hospital that morning and talked her into helping him build a case with Nikolas to see Lulu.

How could so much have happened since then?

Nadine bit her lip, flicked her eyes past him to the camera again, then fisted her hands in his shirt and leaned in, brushing her mouth against his lightly, not pulling all the way back so that their breath mingled. “It’s where your wife would be, isn’t it?” she asked softly, her hand sliding up to his neck, framing the line of his jaw with her fingers. “That’s what I promised to do. I made a promise,” she repeated and now she did pull back just enough so that their eyes met. “I keep my promises.”

Drake Condo: Living Room

Patrick closed the door behind him, dropped his keys on the desk. “Hey, you almost ready—” He paused when saw Robin in the dining area, a photo album on the table, and a box of photos next to her. “What’s that?”

She sighed, then held out a photo. Patrick studied it — a much younger Robin, Sonny, and Brenda with a man he didn’t know — but recognized from pictures. “Stone?”

“Sonny was like his brother,” Robin murmured. “Stone had an actual older brother, Jagger, but they never got along that well.” She held out another photo of Robin and Sonny in front of the Christmas tree. “I talked to Elizabeth a little while ago, and I just…I can’t believe I’ll never talk to Sonny again.”

“I’m sorry. I know how close you were once.” He sat next to her, stroked her shoulder.

“It was another lifetime ago,” Robin said with a shake of her head. “Sonny took Jason when we broke up, though I know he wouldn’t have seen it that way. We just…we grew apart, and by the time I came home three years ago, all we really shared anymore was Stone.”

Patrick sorted through the photos, found another of Robin with a different woman. “I don’t know her.”

“Sonny’s first wife, Lily.” Robin took the photo from him. “She was really kind to Stone, too. He died in Sonny’s penthouse, did you know that? He was still married to Lily then. Then she died in an explosion about—” She squinted. “Six months later, I think. Car bomb at Luke’s.” She set the photo down. “It was meant for Sonny. But he cheated death. He dodged it so many times, you know. I got to think of him as invincible.”

Patrick reached for her hand, squeezed it. “The procedure went well yesterday,” he told her, and she flashed him a smile. “We eased the swelling. You know—”

“The chance is small that it will make a difference. I know. It’s not so different from Michael. Not enough to call brain death, but not quite enough to eliminate all hope.” She rested her chin on her first. “It might have been better for everyone if it was a clean break instead of this ambiguity. Do you mourn the man who still breathes even though he’ll never wake? Or do you wait for a miracle?”

Struggling between the facts and fiction
I’m alone
But I’m alive
Everyone around me is trying to make a statement
Then there’s me
I’m just trying to survive
– Disarray, Lifehouse

---

Thursday, October 2, 2008

General Hospital: Conference Room

Leo released a quick breath of relief, ran a hand through his dark black curls. “I gotta say, I know this is bad news for you and maybe the rest of the hospital but knowing I didn’t screw up that surgery is a relief.”

Patrick wished he could share in Leo’s relief but learning that Elizabeth’s medication switch had been deliberate created more questions than it answered. He tossed a few files aside. “The plan now is for Spinelli to determine how these—he’s calling these coding glitches misfires, and I guess that’s the best word for them—we want to find out exactly how and when this glitch was inserted into the machine codes. And once he knows that, maybe he can fix them.”

“What about getting new machines? Something like this has to convince the board—” Leo hesitated, sat back when Patrick just looked down. “You’re still not going to escalate this? We know it’s a deliberate hack into the system—”

“Spinelli says the misfires go back to at least July. Whoever did this to Elizabeth—either they were lying in wait, hoping for the opportunity to go after her or she’s not really the first—”

“Or someone hacked the system looking for a way to screw with Elizabeth after she was admitted,” Leo said, “and found this glitch. We don’t know, Patrick—”

“And I want the answer to that question before I make this someone else’s problem.” Patrick got to his feet. “I thought you were on board with keeping this quiet—”

“Until we knew what was going on. Now we do. Our machines were faulty — that’s not news, Patrick.” Leo also got to his feet, folded his arms. “And someone took advantage of those issues and went after a woman connected to Jason Morgan at the same time people around him were dropping like flies—”

“Hey—”

“The fact Elizabeth is one of us—that she’s part of the hospital—that doesn’t have to matter. I don’t know what the problem is, dude. You’ve been on record demanding new machines for months. In fact, if it ever gets out that the board rejected these requests over and over again, it’s going to look bad for them.”

“I know. I know all of that, but—”

“You keep quiet now,” Leo said, “you’re doing it to protect Jason Morgan—”

“I’m doing it to protect the hospital—we’re just barely digging out after last year—” Patrick scowled. “Why the hell would I care about protecting Jason Morgan—”

“Because Elizabeth’s your best friend. Because Morgan’s got history with Robin. Or maybe because you operated on two of his family members this year and you feel a little guilty you nearly didn’t save a third. I don’t know, Patrick, pick a damn reason. Either—”

“It’s a result, but it’s not the reason. This hospital gets another black mark, another round of lawsuits, they’re going to cut something else,” Patrick retorted. “They shut down the nursing program, Leo! We don’t have much left. They’ll go for the pro bono cases we all take. They’re going to cut the daycare. The AIDs wing—”

“That’s supported through donations—”

“It’s not self-sustaining and hasn’t been in five years. You don’t know the shit I’ve seen since I took over, Leo. We’re hanging on the edge here, and one more news story hits that patients aren’t safe at General Hospital, and that’s it. This place will be even more miserable, and we’ll have even less to take care of patients. So, yeah, right now, I’m keeping quiet until I know exactly what I’m dealing with, how serious it is, and how far it goes back.” Patrick headed for the door, then looked back at his friend. “And if my reasons aren’t good enough for you, Leo, feel free to go above my head and do it yourself.”

Leo stroked his chin, then sighed. “All right. All right. I hear you. The nursing program—that was a jolt, and I didn’t think it could get worse, but it has. So let’s…let’s just see what Spinelli comes up with.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re not the only one who loves this place, Patrick. But I don’t like the idea of helping Jason Morgan. All he and his kind do is put more bodies on my table.” And with that, Leo left.

Zacchara Estate: Driveway

It was nearing dusk when Johnny pulled his car into the long drive curving in a semi-circle in front of his family’s house. Nadine had spent all the hours since this morning in a constant state of turbulence, castigating herself for how she’d lost the plot in Las Vegas and allowed Johnny to talk her into bed twice.

Maybe she was just lonely, Nadine thought. She looked up at the huge house, with its forbidding exteriors against the backdrop of the dying sunlight. “Did you really grow up here?”

“When I wasn’t in private school or in college.” Johnny switched off the ignition, looked over at her. “It’s not going to be that bad.”

She squinted at him. “Wasn’t one of your selling points protection from your family?”

“Yeah, but—” he pressed his lips together, clearly trying to think of way around that particular challenge. “They’re not going to threaten you to your face. At least not today.”

“You’re really comforting, you know that?” Nadine shoved the door open and stepped out. She slammed the car door, but didn’t go near the house, giving Johnny time to come to her side. “Look, I get to be nervous about this. Your sister tried to blackmail me into lying to the cops this summer, your dad tried to kill me—”

“Yeah, but he likes you now—that’s not helping either, is it?” Johnny said. “By now, my sister has told them what’s going on. So let’s just go inside, they can say whatever they want, and then I’ll go grab clothes. We’ll be in Port Charles, right? They’re not there.”

Nadine glanced at the house again before sighing. “I guess you’re right. If they want to make me miserable, they’ll have to travel like an hour to make it happen, so we’ve got that going for us. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit.” He laced his fingers through hers and pulled her towards the front door. “Now, just remember our cover story, and this will all be fine—”

“The one where I come off as a gold digger taking advantage of the guy on the rebound, why not?”

Johnny stopped, swinging her around so that they faced each other. “No one is going to think that—”

“Oh, they’re all going to think that, but that’s okay. That was the attitude when it was Nikolas, so I’m used to it.” Nadine shrugged but kept her eyes downcast because every time they made eye contact today, she ended up taking off her clothes. “It’s better than being that crazy killer’s sister.”

Johnny opened his mouth, then shook his head. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Good. Don’t. We’ll go in there, I’ll tell them I married you because you’re rich and hot, and you married me because I’m good in bed or maybe because I wouldn’t put out without a ring on my finger—” Nadine wiggled her finger. “Maybe I should have let you stop on the way to the airport for a flashier ring.”

“You pointed out — correctly — that anything bigger would make it harder for you to do your job,” Johnny said. “And you’re not quitting that, so no one is really going to think you’re after me for the money. I don’t even have any, you know. It’s just a trust fund from my mother.”

“All my mother left me was the crazy killer sister, so—” Nadine closed her eyes. “I’m being bitchy and I’m arguing with everything you say because I don’t want to go in there.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“It’s just…” She bit her lip, looked at the house. “That’s the first step. People are going to know we got married. And then we’re going back to Port Charles. And more people are going to know, and it’ll be like this avalanche we really can’t control, and sure we can tell people until they’re blue in the face that we did this because we’re hot for each other, but everyone is going to know—”

“Then we’ll just have to change their minds.” Johnny cupped her jaw in both hands, and she had no choice but to meet his eyes, those intense dark brown eyes that seemed like they could see straight through her bullshit. “You don’t think we’re up to that?”

“I don’t—” She licked her lips. “I don’t know. I lose track of what I’m thinking when you do that. And don’t ask what, you know what—stop looking at me—”

“I like looking at you. It’s my new favorite thing to do.” He kissed her then, swallowing her next protest, and Nadine’s hands fluttered for a moment before sliding around his back and clinging to him.

“Well, this is an interesting development.”

They jumped apart to find Claudia standing a few feet away, in the open door. “You going to put on a show in the front drive, John, or are you going to bring the wife in to meet the family?”

General Hospital: Conference Room

Spinelli had three laptops set up, each screen covered in code that would look like gibberish to anyone else. There were also several stacks of papers with the same programming language. Spinelli had written a program to go through the mainframe of the hospital dispensary, but he didn’t want to rely just on the computers. Sometimes you found more when you used your own eyes.

He was so lost in absorbing the code that he didn’t hear the knock on the door — but he did hear it burst open, banging against the wall behind it so hard it bounced back. “I didn’t mean that,” Maxie said with a wrinkle of her nose. She stepped in and closed the door. “You didn’t answer my knock.”

Spinelli furrowed his brow. “I didn’t hear you knock.” He circled a set of codes, made a notation. “What does the fair Maximista need?”

“Answers. You’ve been in here all day, and I realized you were already at the hospital yesterday because you found me last night.” Maxie went to the opposite side of the table, planted her hands flat against the tabletop, then narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“The Jackal’s assistance has been requested and he is not at liberty—”

“Oh, no, no, you don’t get to disappear into that gibberish and try to distract me with your Jackals and wherefores and whatnots and heretofore—” She stabbed a finger at him. “Something is going on. I demand to know.”

Spinelli cleared his throat. “There is a software issue with one of the hospital’s programs. The Determined Doctor Drake has requested the Jackal see to it as a way to save money and receive quick, accurate service. Since I’ve been here anyway.”

Maxie squinted at him, her lips thinned. “There’s enough truth in that I’m gonna leave it alone. For now. Also, I need your help. Johnny hasn’t called me back, and you need to put like, a tracker on him.”

“The Septic Son? Why does Maximista even need him?”

“Because the last time I saw him, he was in a rotten mood. And it was the day of the shooting, don’t you remember? He and Nadine went off together, and then Sonny got shot—”

“Yesterday.”

Maxie stopped, blinked. “What?”

“Mr. Sir was shot yesterday.”

Maxie blinked, then dropped into a seat. “Yesterday. Yeah. I guess it was just yesterday. It’s been barely a week.” She looked at him. “It doesn’t seem so long ago that Lulu was here, and we were bickering with each other, you know? And now she’s gone. Johnny was so upset, and I guess I just—I’m looking for things to do. I’ve done everything I can at Crimson, and Kate doesn’t need me. I figured I could go bother Johnny because I don’t want him to go moping around. Lulu would hate that, you know? She said he brooded too much.”

Spinelli nodded. “The Jackal is painfully aware of the Blonde One’s feelings on the matter.”

“Do you think he shot Sonny?” Maxie wanted to know. She picked at her cuticle. “If he did,” she continued, not waiting for his answer, “it wasn’t his fault. I’ll make sure Mac knows it. Johnny never did anything to bother Sonny, but it’s not like that mattered.” She shoved herself to her feet. “You’re not going to put a tracer on his phone, are you?”

“No, Maximista, I am not.”

“Fine. You keep doing your top-secret work, and I’ll go bother someone else. But eventually—” She pointed at him. “I’m gonna figure out what you’re up to.”

Zacchara Estate: Foyer

Johnny kept his hand at the small of Nadine’s back, ushering her inside — only after Claudia had already swept in front of them. As much as he’d tried to reassure and distract her outside, she wasn’t crazy to worry about his family’s reaction to this.

Anthony Zacchara, on his best day, was an unpredictable bastard who thrived on chaos — a trait he’d passed down to his daughter. If Anthony thought Nadine was a threat to Johnny, he wouldn’t have any trouble disposing of her. And Johnny wasn’t so sure that Claudia wouldn’t be right there with their father to neutralize Nadine.

It was one of the reasons he thought marrying Nadine might help — it would prove to his father that Nadine was on his side. That she’d had the chance to go to the PCPD, and she’d chosen to protect him instead. It was essential that Anthony saw Nadine as being in their camp. It had taken months before his father backed off Lulu—

Johnny wasn’t sure they’d have months for Anthony to warm up to Nadine.

“Just let me do the talking,” he reminded her, guiding her towards the living room where Anthony waited, reclining in his wheelchair, Trevor flanking his side. Ric stood off to the side, looking through some papers, and Claudia was by the bar, pouring another glass of wine.

A typical family scene, Johnny thought almost bitterly.

“Well, if it isn’t the blushing bride and the groom,” Anthony drawled. “I guess you weren’t as broken up about LooLoo the Lunatic as I thought.” He smirked when Johnny tensed. “Or does one blonde feel the same in the dark as the other?”

Johnny bristled, but Trevor drew his attention next. “John, you ran off to Las Vegas without even running this past me,” he said, sauntering towards them. “You have a substantial inheritance coming your way, and you didn’t even let us protect you with a prenuptial agreement.” He lifted his bushy brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll sign a post-nuptial now?”

“I—” Nadine opened her mouth but Johnny held out a hand and she said nothing else.

“When I need you, Trev, I’ll call for you. Until then, don’t bother. My money is my money and Nadine’s welcome to whatever she wants—”

“Oh, don’t bother trying to make me think this is anything other than a cheap way to keep yourself out of jail again,” Anthony cut in sharply. “This woman saw you shoot Sonny Corinthos, didn’t she? And you think this is enough protection? What’s stopping her from going to the PCPD the first time you piss her off?” He shook his head. “No. No, John, I’m not letting you endanger everything I built.” He focused on Nadine. “You’ll sign whatever I put in front of you, and you’ll shut up about whatever you saw on the pier—”

“You’re not going to threaten her,” Johnny retorted. “I won’t let you—”

“Johnny—” Nadine’s voice was soft, and her hand on his arm was reassuring. He looked her, met her eyes. “They’re just scared, okay? Scared and worried. So let’s just try to reassure them, right?”

“I’m not scared—” Anthony began, offended.

“Sure you are,” Nadine said, and so stunned at being interrupted by a woman, Anthony closed his mouth. “And who would blame you? After what Johnny just went through these last two months. He was on trial and in jail just a few weeks ago. It’s natural that you’re worried he might be dragged back with even less evidence. Scott Baldwin made it really clear he didn’t care about Johnny being guilty. And you do have money. Just look at this house, right? I think my apartment would fit into this entire room.”

Anthony considered her for a long moment, then folded his hands in his lap. “So you admit that you married my son for protection.”

“Well, not entirely, no. I mean, when we found out about the shooting, Johnny knew he’d be first in line as a suspect. Especially after what happened to poor Kate Howard. And he knew Scott wouldn’t believe I was an alibi. B-But you know, Johnny could just say talk to my lawyer, and I could find a lawyer of my own. That could be the end of it, right?” Nadine licked her lips. “But it’s okay now. Johnny and I are…we’re together, and we’re a team.”

“Not entirely?” Trevor echoed.

Anthony smirked. “That’s code for yes,” he said in a stage-whisper to the lawyer.

“It’s…more complicated than that. Ask Claudia what she saw when she went outside. Did it look like we were married to avoid being questioned?” she asked Johnny’s sister who pursed her lips.

“No,” she said finally. “A few more minutes, we might have had to throw water on them. I don’t know, Daddy. It might be interesting to see where this going.” She shrugged. “But then again, does my opinion matter?”

“No,” Anthony muttered, “but you’re not always wrong.” He hesitated. “You talk a good game, girl. You amused me during the trial. I think I might like to see what else you have up your sleeve. But you don’t get to lay a hand on my money—”

“Right. So I’ll sign whatever Mr. Lansing wants me to sign.”

“Nadine—” Johnny started, but she shook her head.

“I know what everyone is going to say.” She looked at him, biting her lip, and he knew she was thinking of their conversation back at the hotel. “But I don’t care that you have access to money. I can take care of myself. I’m not a gold digger. So you go pack what you need to come back with me, and I’ll go talk to Mr. Lansing about what he wants me to sign.”

“Pack?” Anthony repeated as Nadine released Johnny’s hand and followed Trevor out the room. “Where the hell are you going?”

Coffee House: Office

Francis dropped the phone onto the base as Jason came into the office. “Hey. I just talked to my contact at the DEA.”

Jason closed the door. “We’re all set for tonight?” He looked over at Cody. “Karpov will be there?”

“He was happy to hear you’d changed your mind about meeting him,” his lieutenant confirmed. “He hopes this will the beginning of a successful partnership.”

Jason grunted. “If we’re lucky, it’ll be the last time I ever have to see or think about him.”

Francis lifted his blond brows. “How’s Sonny? I thought he was supposed to have surgery again today.”

Jason went around to the other side of the desk, moved some papers around. “Nothing. Still waiting for some of the swelling to go down, but—” He looked up briefly before reaching for a stack of invoices. “They haven’t changed their prognosis.”

“Ah. Sorry to hear that.” Francis looked at Cody, tipped his head, and the lieutenant headed out, leaving Francis and Jason alone. “Elizabeth and the kids settle in okay? Her grandmother?”

Surprised by the question, Jason lifted his head again. “What? Yeah. No security issues—”

“I just—I could have confirmed this over the phone. You could be at home with them.” Francis folded his arms. “I know we’re not talking about why Elizabeth got discharged or why we needed to track down some hospital-quality equipment and meds, but—you don’t have to do more than show up at the warehouse tonight—”

“Are you telling me how to do my job?” Jason wanted to know. “Because if you don’t like—”

Francis came around the side of the desk, pulled open the top drawer. He put the picture frame on the desk. “No reason to hide that away anymore. It can go right next to Michael and Morgan.” He slid the frame so that it sat next to the double frame — Morgan that summer, eating an ice cone. And Michael’s last school photo.

“You’ve spent a lot of time hiding them,” Francis said. Jason clenched his jaw. “I told you a couple of days ago that I was glad we were done pretending. I’m not the only one that’s breathing easier knowing we can give your kid—both of them—the kind of protection they deserve. You know when Sonny did this job the best? When he was at his strongest? When he and Carly were good, he went home to his family. He didn’t know how to hang on to it. I sure hope you don’t make the same mistakes.”

Morgan Penthouse: Hallway

Audrey wrapped an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “Slower, darling. You’re still trying to do too much too fast.”

“I can’t help it,” Elizabeth said, panting as they paused, and she leaned against a window. “I have two boys, and Jason needs me back on my feet—”

“Jason—and those boys—need you to be healthy,” Audrey corrected, and Elizabeth didn’t argue when her grandmother steered her back down the hall. “These problems with the hospital will not be solved overnight.”

“I still can’t believe my medication was deliberately switched.” Elizabeth grimaced as her grandmother lowered her onto the bed. “That’s just insane to me. We’ve been having issues with those stupid machines, but this goes so far and beyond that.”

“I regret, you know, not doing more after Steve passed.” Audrey sat next to Elizabeth, handed her a glass of water. “And when I retired, I could have taken a seat on the board. Edward offered it to me.”

“I miss him being on the board,” Elizabeth said wistfully. “I can’t blame him for not wanting to be there after losing Emily and Alan so close together, but with Monica cutting back her hours, the closing of the nursing program, losing Bobbie—it doesn’t even feel like the same place.”

“The end of an era for sure.” Audrey sighed, rubbed her knee. “Your grandfather thought they’d be the next generation, you know. Alan taking over for him, Jason in medical school — perhaps continuing to follow in his father’s footsteps. And Tommy and his son, TJ. Instead…”

“Gram—”

“I’m not judging Jason for going a different way after the accident,” Audrey said, patting Elizabeth’s hand. “He spent so long in the hospital, surrounded by doctors poking and prodding at him, I’m not surprised he ran as far and as fast as he could. Lila always fretted that Jason continued to run from them—and that Alan and Edward couldn’t stop getting in their own way to heal the breach.”

Elizabeth rotated the glass in her hands. “I didn’t think about—you were around for all of that.”

“To a certain extent, yes. Your grandfather took a great interest in what was happening—he counseled Alan to have some patience, but well, it wasn’t to be. We lost him only a few months later.” Her voice hitched slightly, and she had to take a breath. “Oh, it’s been more than ten years, and it still feels so wrong to speak of him in the past tense.”

“I know. I’ve never stopped missing him.” Elizabeth handed her grandmother a tissue. “He’d be heartbroken at what’s happened to the hospital. He worked so hard to save it—” She looked away. The stress of the hospital had contributed to his fatal heart attack at the desk where he’d spent so much of his life. “When this is done, when we know what happened and we’ve fixed it, I want to do better to honor Gramps. And you. And Bobbie and Amy and all the nurses that came through GH. That nursing program — it gave me a future. A life for my son. I want to bring it back.”

“And I would love to help you, but first—” Audrey handed Elizabeth two pills. “We have to get you better.”

Elizabeth obeyed, swallowing the medication. She set the glass aside. “Gram, you were with Jason most of yesterday. Were—were you with him when he found out about Sonny?”

“I was. It was just after Jason and Patrick had shown me your toxicology reports. Epiphany called him from the Emergency Room.” Audrey tipped her head. “Why? Have you not spoken with him about it?”

“A little. Not much. Jason kind of—he locks in, you know? He focuses on what has to be done. One foot in front of the other—” Elizabeth had to pause, wincing and changing position to take some of the pressure from her sore ribs. “And right now, he has a list of things to do, and he can avoid dealing with it.”

“Ah, well, it’s not unusual, darling, for someone to lose themselves in their work or find something else to take their attention—” Audrey paused.

“It’s just—there’s been so much loss this year, Gram. And if I go back even further, when Alan died, Jason—” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at her hands. “If Jason hadn’t saved my life, he would have made it to the hospital in time to talk to Alan. I’m not saying he shouldn’t have, it’s just—I think about it a lot. I know losing his father hit him harder than he expected. And I then I had to body slam him by asking him to give up Jake—”

“Oh, darling—”

“Jake was born, and Jason couldn’t be with him, and oh, I could see how much he loved him. It kills me that I took that time—”

“He had to allow it, dear. He could have said no. You can’t carry that with you—”

“But I do. And I don’t know how to stop. Alan, and then not having Jake, then we got hit with Emily—and then Jason just kept losing. Michael. He loved him so much—loves,” Elizabeth corrected softly. “Because we can’t give up hope. But Jason lost another son. And now his best friend and brother—I just—” Her eyes filled. “I want so badly to do the right thing and I’m so terrible at it. I’ve done nothing but hurt him for so long.”

“I imagine Jason would have a very different opinion on that, but all you can do right now is have a little patience. It’s scarcely been a day. Let him absorb this. You’ll know when to push him. You will,” Audrey insisted when Elizabeth just scoffed, swiped at her tears. “Trust yourself, and Jason, that when the time is right, you’ll both know it. Until then, patience is my best advice.”

“Patience. I’ve never been good at that.” Elizabeth sighed when she heard Cameron in the other room. “He’s starting to talk to himself — he’s getting bored with playing, and he’ll wake Jake.”

“I’ll go fetch him, darling, and bring dinner up for all of us.” Audrey kissed her granddaughter’s cheek and left.

Elizabeth looked around the room — around Jason’s bedroom — and wondered why she couldn’t feel settled. Why it was so hard to believe it was different this time?

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

---

Friday, October 3, 2008

 Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. Not right now.”

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

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

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

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

Behind Cameron, Jason grimaced and dug out his phone.

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

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

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

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

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

“I would have come to you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jason.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, don’t say it—”

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

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

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

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

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

PCPD: Interrogation Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“John!” Ric said. “Come on—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jacks Estate: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

“They? Or Jason?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I should be able to help him. I should be able to get through, you know? Why can’t I find the right words? Gram keeps saying I’ll know the right moment and what to do, but I won’t I’ll just mess it up. I always do. I always hurt him worse, and that’s all I’ll do now, I know it.”

“Honey—”

“I did—he lost Alan, and I asked him to give up Jake a few days later, did you know that?”  She pressed her lips together, struggled to force the words out. “Emily died, and I asked him to let Lucky keep raising Jake. To keep the lie. And Michael—I agreed with him. I let him go, and I shouldn’t have done that. He needed me, Bobbie, and I didn’t hold on. And now, he’s lost Sonny, and I can’t even help him. Of course not, why would he trust me to do that—”

“All right, all right, you need to stop all that because I can’t hug you without hurting you,” Bobbie managed, and Elizabeth laughed, then started to cry harder. Bobbie stroked her hair. “You are doing the best you can, honey—”

“But he deserves better—”

“He deserves you. You deserve each other, and those boys deserve a family.” Bobbie took her hands, held them together between both of hers. “Jason learned a long time ago that it was easier to close himself off than to feel. And he learned that long before you came along. Those were lessons learned from the Quartermaines, from Robin and from Sonny, and Carly.”

“I did my own damage,” Elizabeth said. She twisted the tissue in her hands. “But I used to be able to tease him out of it. I used to…he used to look at me, Bobbie, and I’d feel so much love. When I was in the hospital, before Sonny was shot, he was still doing that. Still looking at me. He was talking. But now I’m here, and he just talks past me. Talks about the boys, talks about me resting, or what’s for dinner. And I’m afraid that I’ll just keep poking at him until he blows up, and that’s not what I want.”

“You want to skip the part where you have to dig and prod,” Bobbie said, and Elizabeth nodded, wrinkling her nose. “Well, that’s fair, enough. But that kind of ease, it comes with time. You and Jason have been around each other for years, but—correct me if I’m wrong—this is the first time you’ll actually be…together. In the open. Building a life where people can see you.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point. Just because Jason and I have been in love for years, it doesn’t mean we know what to do with each other now.”

“And your grandmother had a point. The time is going to come when you’ll know what to say. How to reach him. But it might not be easy. And you may fight and hurt each other and keep going in circles. Because he has to be ready. And there’s no amount of pushing, poking, or prodding that’s going to make that happen.”

Elizabeth smiled wryly. “No, that’s true. I guess I’ll just have to be patient. Which is exactly what Gram said. Since you guys are two of the smartest women I know, I guess I have to listen.”

My foes and friends watch my reign end
I don’t know how it could’ve ended this way
Smoke billows from my ships in the harbor
People look at me like I’m a monster
Now they’re screaming at the palace front gates, used to chant my name
Now they’re screaming that they hate me
Never wanted you to hate me
– Castles Crumbling, Taylor Swift

---

Friday, October 3, 2008

Nadine’s Apartment: Bedroom

The shrill beeping broke Johnny out of a solid sleep, and he jerked straight up, rubbing his eyes, bewildered by the strange sound and then by his surroundings. The light had only just begun to creep through the blinds drawn in the room’s one miserly window.

“What the hell is that sound—”

“Oh, sorry, sorry—” The sheets rustled, and then the sound cut off abruptly. “Sorry. I forgot to tell you I’m sort of a morning person when I’m not on night shift.”

Johnny blinked, clearing the sleep from his eyes, blearily looking at the woman next to him — slowly reality began to drift in, and he remembered where he was—and who he was with.

“It’s…” He stifled a yawn, shoved the sheet aside to rise to his feet. “Yeah, it’s fine. I, uh—need to get up earlier more often.” Johnny scratched his chest absently, scanning the room for his suitcase which he’d dragged in sometime after they’d eaten pizza for dinner.

“I should have turned it off or something,” Nadine said, getting out of the bed, restlessly shoving the sheet back up to the pillow.

He glanced at her, struck suddenly by the insanity of the situation he found himself in. It was different waking up here in Port Charles, in Nadine’s apartment. In her bedroom. In Vegas, it all seemed surreal, almost like acting out a play—even last night, when he’d driven to Port Charles—

But now it was morning. And he was looking at his wife, in the Hello Kitty nightshirt she’d donned before going to sleep. There was a red line crease on her cheek from the pillow, and her blonde hair was mussed. He’d married Nadine Crowell. And they were sleeping together.

He stared down at the shaving kit he’d pulled out of the side zipper, a bit disconcerted by all of it. It was real today in a way it hadn’t been before—and he realized being back in Port Charles, people were going to find out. People who knew Lulu. Who might find a way to tell her if she ever recovered—

Johnny’s stomach pitched at the thought of Lulu finding out he’d married someone else only a few days after her terrible breakdown—and that he’d already started sleeping with her. Johnny opened his mouth, to maybe suggest to Nadine that they needed to rethink the sleeping arrangements—

“I usually go for a run when I have the mornings off,” Nadine said, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. She crossed to her dresser, pulled out some leggings and a long-sleeved shirt with the University of Ohio-Athens logo emblazoned across it. She shot him a rueful, almost nervous grin. “I don’t think you’re much of a morning person, huh?”

“Not without a few gallons of coffee, no,” Johnny said.

“Oh, well, I always have plenty of that. So, um—” She held the clothes to her chest. “I’ll just get changed and head out. If that’s—I mean, we don’t have to do anything else today, do we?”

“No. I mean, you don’t. I need to track down Jason. Find out what’s going on.” Johnny gripped the shaving kit more tightly. “Listen—”

“This is so weird and awkward, which I don’t really understand except I do, so let’s just—” Nadine flashed him another smile. “Let’s just skip it, okay? I, um, I’ll go get changed, and you go do whatever you want. Help yourself to whatever.”

She was out of the bedroom, and the bathroom door had closed before Johnny had even registered what she’d said.

It was weird and awkward, and he felt terrible for it since he’d started the physical side of their relationship. He’d talked her into bed twice in Vegas, and maybe yesterday—it had made sense. But now Johnny wasn’t so sure if it was a good idea to keep mixing all of this and making it confused.

He and Nadine would just have to find a way to figure that out — after she went for a run, and he had some coffee.

Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

Across town, Jason carefully set Elizabeth down into a chair at the kitchen table. “I told you we’d bring you something in the living room if you really want to be downstairs—” he said when he saw her face twist in pain.

“No. No. It’s okay.” She gripped the edge of the table, offered both her sons a reassuring smile. “It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be. It was a lot more painful recovering from Jake’s C-section…” She smiled when Audrey set down a cup of tea and discreetly handed her pain medication. “And the best way to do this is to move around.”

Jason still looked hesitant but dropped his protest. He brought his own coffee to the table and sat down. “Thank you, Mrs. Hardy, for breakfast. I would have—”

“Wrestling Cameron into his school clothes is a far more useful task for you, Jason.” Audrey patted his hand reassuringly. “He wriggles away from me far too easily.”

“Are you giving Jason and Gram a hard time, Cameron?” Elizabeth asked her oldest who just made a face.

“Hate school. Sleep better.”

“You can sleep when you graduate.” Elizabeth popped her meds into her mouth, drank some water. “And you like your teacher. And your class—”

“How come I got a new room?” Cameron cut in. “How many rooms are there? I miss my swing set.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, glanced down at her plate, unsure how to combat that criticism. In the last week, Cameron had gone from their house with his own room, to sharing rooms at Lucky’s, then Audrey’s, and now Jason’s. Not to mention the time he’d spent with Carly. He’d been shuffled around a lot over the last week, and he had a right to be a little put out by it all.

“Well, Mommy needed some help to get better after her car accident, sweetheart. And you know I can’t carry her around,” Audrey said. “Jason can.”

“Oh.” Cameron considered this, then looked at his mother. “You still hurt?”

“A little. And I have to be careful if I want to get better quickly.” Elizabeth smiled at Jason, who looked a bit lost with the conversation. She knew he hadn’t planned to confuse or upset the boys by moving them to his place, and they couldn’t tell a four-year-old that they’d done so for security.

“This weekend, I’ll be feeling good enough to go to the park. Maybe we can go to the swing set there,” she suggested. She looked at Jason. “I mean, if you think you can. I can’t—”

“Yeah. Yes,” he said, this time more firmly. “Just tell me when. I’ll make it happen.” Their eyes met, and she knew that he wasn’t making that promise lightly. He really was trying — she just wished she knew how to help him cope with what Sonny was facing.

Her grandmother had cautioned patience, but Elizabeth wasn’t sure she was going to be able to manage it for long. He was taking on too much, and she worried that he wasn’t confiding in anyone. Without Sonny, without Emily — all that remained was Elizabeth and Carly, and Elizabeth doubted Jason would burden Carly with how he was feeling.

She’d try to give him some space, but eventually — he was going to have to face what was going on. She just hoped her grandmother was right — that Elizabeth would know the right moment to push, and not chase him into shutting down even more.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Nadine pocketed her headphones in her zippered jacket, then pulled open the door to the diner. It was just after the morning rush for the dock workers, and there was a bit of a lull —

But that didn’t mean it was empty. Leyla Mir was at the counter, a cup of coffee in her hand. She glanced over at the door when the bell jingled, only to look back as if registering who had walked in.

“Hey. ” Nadine pasted a friendly smile on her face, approached the counter. “Are you on your way to work?”

“Yes,” Leyla said shortly. She set some money on the counter. “Don’t let me keep you. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

Nadine folded her arms a bit, uncomfortable with Leyla’s frosty tone. “Not really. I don’t have work again until Sunday—”

“Oh, so you’re not preoccupied with your new husband?” Nadine could almost see the acid dripping from Leyla’s words, and she flinched. “Did you think no one had heard about your little trip to Las Vegas?”

“No. I just meant to call and tell you myself,” Nadine said slowly. “We got back last night, and it was a long drive from Crimson Pointe—”

“You know, I thought you and Lulu were friends,” Leyla cut in. “She’s had a mental breakdown, and you’ve married her boyfriend within a week! What could you be thinking? It can’t be the money. You’ve never given a damn about any of that.”

“It’s…”

“And I can’t quite bring myself to believe you’d do anything to help Johnny Zacchara cover up that shooting on the docks, so what exactly? Were you overcome with lust or something? Are you pregnant? Were you cheating with him? Is that why you got into trouble at his trial?”

Nadine’s head was spinning. She held both her hands up. “Whoa, just wait a second—”

“Because it must be one of those reasons. Nothing else makes sense—”

“You don’t buy that Johnny and I were just lonely and we liked each other?” Nadine said, but her voice sounded so unsure and a bit shaky that Leyla continued to scowl.

“He doesn’t let a lot of dust settle, does he? I’m surprised he had time to feel lonely at all,” Leyla said, her British accent making her sound even more irritated. “This makes no sense at all, Nadine. Unless you’re someone that I don’t know at all.”

“Leyla—”

“Because anyone who would jump into marriage, into bed with her friend’s boyfriend mere days after she’d had a mental breakdown—and don’t tell me you and Lulu weren’t that close. You knew her well enough. I’m just so—” She shook her head. “I’m so very disappointed in you, Nadine. You’re not who I thought you were at all.”

General Hospital: Conference Room

Maxie dropped the plastic bag on the table. “Ugh, orange soda for breakfast. What is wrong with you?”

“Orange juice is appropriate but not orange soda?” Spinelli wrinkled his nose, reached for the bottle she held out. “This seems arbitrary to the Jackal—and bless my Maximista—” He held the barbecue chips to his chest. “I’d be lost without you.”

“You say that, but it’s clear you don’t trust me.” Maxie sat down, pouted. “You won’t tell me anything about your super-secret project—”

Spinelli popped open the bag, offered it to her. “It is nothing but boring medical jargon. Does the fair Maximista wish for a crash course in programming languages? It could be arranged—”

“You think you’re going to twist me up again and distract me, but it won’t work. I’m on to you, Jackal Boy.” She wiggled her finger in his face. “No more stalling. Spill your beans.”

Spinelli busied himself looking through the paperwork, trying to think how to throw her off the scent. He had to distract her — but with what? He saw a nurse pass them through the blinds, then made a face. He didn’t have a choice, he thought. He’d have to betray a friend who trusted him.

“Did you perchance stop by Kelly’s this morning?” Spinelli wanted to know. “The Jackal wondered if perhaps the Noble Nurse Nadine came in for coffee. She often does on her day off.”

“No! And don’t distract me, I told you! I’m going to get you this time—unless—” Maxie squinted. “Is Nadine involved in this?”

“One could say that. The Jackal, of course, supports all his friends in their decisions, but how will the Blonde One take this news?”

Thrown, Maxie closed her mouth. “What? Lulu? Spinelli—”

“He finds himself torn between hoping she is well enough to learn the truth, but also never hoping she does—”

“What truth?” Maxie grabbed his shirt. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on—”

“I’m surprised you didn’t already hear. “Noble Nurse Nadine married the Septic Son yesterday in Las Vegas.”

“Noble—Septic—married?” Maxie shrieked. “Are you kidding me? Johnny and Nadine got married? What the hell is going on? How could he do that to Lulu? How could she do that to Nikolas? Oh, this is absolutely wild. He won’t get away with this. I won’t let him!”

She whirled around and darted out of the conference room. Spinelli sent up a silent apology to his friend Nadine and got back to work. Sometimes you had to play a little dirty to get what you needed — and Spinelli needed a quiet room and a distracted Maximista.

“Good luck, Noble Nurse Nadine. You’re going to need it.”

Drake Condo: Living Room

Patrick shoved aside a pile of paperwork, looking for the checklist from Robin’s last doctor’s appointment. Robin sat on the sofa, eating a slice of pineapple and ham pizza that made him feel ill. Pregnancy cravings were absolutely ridiculous, he thought. Pizza in the morning wasn’t that big of a deal, but pineapple and ham was a step too far.

“So if Spinelli can build this firewall, is that where you’re going to leave it?” Robin wanted to know. She chased the pizza with a sip of her orange juice, and Patrick decided he needed to look away if he wanted to keep his own breakfast down.

“Until he can trace the glitch back to when it started and build the database of misfires, yeah, I’ll have to.”

“But will you be able to leave it at that?” she asked gently. She touched his arm. “You take on the weight of too much, Patrick. You’re the chief of the medical staff, not the world.”

“I should have known there were serious issues with those machines—”

“You did! You’ve been fighting to replace them!”

“I should have tried harder. Instead, the nurses have been stuck trying to find patterns that Spinelli tell me were impossible, and—”

“Not everything in the hospital is your problem—”

“If this happened on your watch,” Patrick said, “are you telling me you wouldn’t blame yourself?”

Robin made a face, set the plate with her pizza crust on the coffee table, and rested a hand on her belly. “No. But that doesn’t mean I’m not right—”

“I’m going to do my best to put this behind me and not obsess over it,” Patrick said. “I’m going to trust that Spinelli will come through on a way to give us some sense of peace. But that doesn’t mean I can just let myself off the hook.”

“It’s going to take longer than two months to clean up a mess that took more than a year to make,” Robin told him, then she sighed. “I don’t want to fight about this.”

“Neither do I.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back after lunch to pick you up for our doctor’s appointment. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Kelly’s: Diner

Nearly an hour after Nadine’s run-in with Leyla, Johnny found his way to the diner, hoping to get something to eat. He wasn’t much of a cook, and there was nothing in Nadine’s kitchen that didn’t require preparation.

He was going to need a new way to fill his hours, Johnny thought, sliding into an empty chair at one of the tables. He picked up the menu, perused the choices he mostly had memorized. If he was going to be in Port Charles for the foreseeable future, then—

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Babyface Zacchara.”

Johnny tensed, glanced over the tip of the menu to find Scott Baldwin glowering at him. “Scott—”

“That’s Mr. Baldwin to you, wise guy.” Scott pulled out his cell phone, jabbed in a few numbers. “And it’s about time you showed your face around here—yeah, it’s Baldwin. I need a couple of uniforms over here. I have a suspect to take into custody.”

Johnny knew Scott was only half-bluffing — he was definitely calling for cops to come pick Johnny up — but if Johnny were to leave before they arrived, there wasn’t much Scott could do. Then again, maybe it was time to get this over with and see where they stood.

“I guess I should get my lawyer on the phone if we’re going to be having lunch together. You mind if I order something to go?” Johnny asked, tossing the menu on the table, and searching inside his pocket for his own cell phone.

“Yeah, why not? Be my guest. You could also just save us all some time and misery by admitting to gunning Sonny Corinthos down on the pier.” Scott gripped the chair across from Johnny. “What happened? You miss last Saturday? Hit the blushing bride and you just needed to finish the job? Like last April?”

Johnny’s fingers paused over the speed dial leading to Ric. Last April. Michael. Christ, Scott was really going for the triple crown trying to link him to all three shootings. Keep your mouth shut, he thought. If Scott had something, there would have been a warrant out for him.

“But I hear you’ve got a solid alibi for that church shooting.” Scott tipped his head, sneering. “You used your crazy girlfriend for a shield again. Rumor has it she lost it so bad this time they shipped her away—”

“Didn’t you used to be married to her mother?” Johnny asked, idly. He looked at Scott, was assured that he’d struck a nerve when the older man flinched. “Weren’t you the last person who talked to Mrs. Spencer before she had her breakdown?”

“You don’t know a damn thing—”

“I know you have nothing, Scott—”

“What I have is a guy who always seems to be around when something happens to Sonny Corinthos or his family.” Scott’s scowl only deepened. “And so much for your loyalty to that girlfriend of yours. I hear congratulations are in order. You’re on to your next blonde — someone else who threw herself on the pyre and martyred herself at your trial. Lulu went crazy, Nadine ended up with contempt charges—”

Scott’s tirade broke off when the door behind them swung open, the bell jangling. Maxie stalked in, blue eyes lit with fury.

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face around here after what you did to Lulu!” she cried. She fisted her hands at her hips. “She lost her mind trying to help you, to tell the truth, and you went and married someone else? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Johnny just shook his head. “I don’t owe you any answers—” He rose to his feet, but his height didn’t intimidate Maxie at all. She just lifted her chin so that their eyes still met.

“No, but you owe them to Lulu. She just can’t collect. My God, Johnny, did you ever love her at all?”

Johnny opened his mouth, nearly swallowed his tongue. He’d wanted to defend himself, to explain it — but he couldn’t of course —

Then he saw uniforms in the courtyard through the window behind Scott. Johnny had never been so relieved to be arrested.

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

---

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

General Hospital: Kate’s Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maxie.”

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

Kate closed her eyes. “Oh, no.”

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

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

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

General Hospital: Conference Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes—”

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

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

“Ohio!”

“Same thing!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t care about being a witness—”

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

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

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

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

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

General Hospital: Hallway

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

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

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

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

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

Jason folded his arms. Said nothing.

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

“She’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

Jason tensed. “A reaction?”

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

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

There was nothing.

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

“I just—”

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

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

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

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

“Do I need a lawyer, Mac?”

“No, but—”

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

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

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

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

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

GH: Patrick’s Office

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

He’d never forgive himself.

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” Robin paused. “Matt did.”

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

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

“Don’t start with that—”

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

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

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

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

“Because I’m pregnant?”

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

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

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

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

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

Robin frowned. “But—”

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

“It’s fine—keep going.”

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

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

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

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

Zacchara Estate: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trevor frowned. “What?”

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

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

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

General Hospital: Elizabeth’s Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not yet.

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

---

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Coffee House: Office

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mandalay Bay Resort: Hotel Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t look at me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PCPD: Squad Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s enough—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does that mean—”

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

“She protected Johnny—”

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

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

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

General Hospital: ICU Hallway

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

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

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

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

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

Just like April. Just like Michael.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s Elizabeth?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t…I’m sorry—”

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

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

“I know that.”

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

General Hospital: Kate’s Hospital Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am—”

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

“We don’t know that—”

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

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

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

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

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

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

General Hospital: Locker Room

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

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

Most of the time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Penthouse: Living Room

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

Married.

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

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

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

“What do we tell everyone?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coffee House: Office

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zacchara Estate: Study

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

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

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

“Another worthless waste of space,” Anthony muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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