Written in 80 minutes. The court scene took a bit, and I had to rewrite it slightly (still not right but oh well), and I wanted to get the planned scenes in since I really wanted to end on this beat.

Wednesday, September 25, 2024

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

Michael had the door already open before Caldwell could knock or ring the doorbell. He’d seen the cadre of vehicles enter through the estate gates —a few unmarked dark sedans and two white vans with the FBI logo on the side.

“How kind of you to greet us personally,” Caldwell remarked, passing by Michael into the foyer where he locked eyes with Tracy who lifted her chin in defiance. He turned back to face the young man. “But it wasn’t necessary.”

Michael grimaced, started to close the door, but a smaller, more delicate hand slapped against it, and a slender woman slid through, her dark hair coiled at her nape with a cool smile playing faintly on her lips. “Not so fast, Mr. Corinthos.”

He furrowed his brow — he knew her, didn’t he? Something about her face—

“As you’re aware by now, the FBI doesn’t need a warrant to search the premises, but Assistant U.S. Attorney Campbell has prepared one anyway. Just to be careful.”

She held out the legal paper, but Michael ignored it, looked at the FBI agent. “You’re not going to find anything that makes Elizabeth or my uncle look guilty. Because they’re not. Elizabeth and I heard the gunshots. We were together. We ran towards them, and Elizabeth tried to keep Cates alive until the ambulance could get here. She tried to help him—”

“Michael.” His great-aunt came towards him, touched his sleeve. “There’s no point in arguing. Let the agents do their job so they can leave and never come back.”

“I’ll just leave this here,” the woman said, laying the warrant on the table. “Caldwell, if you’re ready?”

“Been ready for weeks. After you, Gia.”

When they’d left, Michael retrieved his phone. “Gia Campbell,” he muttered, tapping it into the Google Search screen.

“I know that name.” Tracy frowned. “Why do I know that name?”

“Worked for the government a number of years — no, no, not that — here! I knew it. She worked for my mother. A long time ago. She was a model at Deception.”

“A model?” Tracy folded her arms. “What are the odds a model from Port Charles would be on this case? And when did your mother work at Deception?”

“For about two years a life time ago.” Michael tapped a few keys.

Hey mom do you remember Gia Campbell?

Port Charles Courthouse: Family Court

Jason hadn’t been lying to Danny when he’d told him that this entire situation sucked, and the hearing would only make it worse.

Sam had come in a few minutes after him, followed by her mother, her expression pale and drawn. She’d had a hearing an hour before this one with Drew — and while Diane hadn’t gathered the specifics, she knew that Drew had retained custody.

His ex-wife’s hands were trembling slightly when she took her seat at the other table, and Jason looked away, straight ahead at the judge’s bench and witness stand. He and Sam might be on the opposite ends of the world right now, and it was hard to remember when he’d been in love with her — but they had loved one another once. And he knew how much she’d wanted to be a mother. How she’d grieved her stillborn daughter —

His resolve to go through with this hearing, to gain primary custody, hadn’t changed. But he wasn’t enjoying putting Sam through this.

“Good morning.”

The judge’s brisk tones brought Jason back, and he focused on the man sitting on the bench,  his chest tight, his hands clenched in his lap.

“We’re here on the matter of Jason Morgan versus Samantha McCall, with the respondent’s return following the issuance of a temporary emergency custody order…” The judge continued laying out the plan for the hearing, and Jason didn’t pay close attention after that. He wasn’t required to speak unless spoken to, and Diane would take point. It was a relief, he knew, to not have to testify.

“Ms. Miller, you may proceed.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Diane rose to her feet. “I’ll keep my remarks brief as the petition is detailed, and Your Honor has already indicated you’ve reviewed it. My client is not seeking to terminate the minor child’s contact with his mother. That wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interests. But Ms. McCall’s actions over the past few months, and specifically the last few weeks have suggested that she is not the best custodial parent at this time. I described her attempts at parental alienation, limiting and even forbidding contact, abandonment of the minor during a legal situation, refusal to consent to medical treatment, and unfortunately, a physical altercation instigated by Ms. McCall in the minor’s presence. With the addition of the physical fight between the minor and the other teenager in Ms. McCall’s home, Mr. Morgan seeks to be named as the primary custodian with Ms. McCall having supervised and limited contact with her son until the court has determined she is more stable.”

“I’ve read your petition and reviewed the attached affidavits.” The judge peered at the other table. “Ms. Davis?”

“Your Honor.” Alexis rose to her feet. “Ms. McCall admits freely that she has not handled the situation of her ex-husband’s return to Port Charles well. Though Mr. Morgan was working undercover with the FBI for a worthy cause, I’d like to remind the court that his family — including his sons — believed their father had died. There was a funeral. A stone to visit in a cemetery. Ms. McCall worried for her son’s emotional and physical safety, understandably. She learned of her son’s substances issues and made mistakes in how she handled that as well. But she has done everything she can to support her son, despite her worries that Mr. Morgan’s live in partner is attempting parental alienation of her own. We ask that the court order a more equal custodial arrangement, perhaps trading weeks with each parent.”

“And Ms. Graber? As the attorney for the child, what would you like to offer?”

A woman sitting in the jury’s box rose to her feet, and Jason watched her, unsure what weight her testimony would offer — and how Danny’s voice would be heard.

“The minor is extremely conflicted, as one might expect. He loves his mother and he feels guilty. The details of our conversation are in the report, covering the period of the summer when his mother limited and even forbid contact, interrogated him after every visit that did occur, the incident that led to her abandonment, the refusal to consent for treatment—” She paused. “And the incident on September 21 when Ms. McCall assaulted Ms. Webber for bringing the minor to Ms. McCall’s residence. He expressed fear for the first time of what his mother might do. He had wanted to ask her to be part of his therapy, and Ms. Webber was supporting him. And in return, his mother had become furious, took his phone so he couldn’t warn anyone, and went to confront Ms. Webber. Ms. McCall assaulted Ms. Webber, the details of which are in the police report and security camera footage.” She paused. “The minor would like to remain in his father’s custody, though he hopes he can see his mother.”

The judge nodded, shuffled some papers. “I see that none of the details or arguments have shifted since we last spoke.” He looked at Alexis, at Sam. “I can understand Ms. McCall’s concern after her ex-husband returned from the dead, so to speak. And if she had come to the court at that point to ask for relief, to restrict visitation, this might have ended very differently.”

Sam let out a small sound and her mother reached for Sam’s hand, squeezing it.

“But it’s not six months ago, Ms. McCall, and I have Mr. Morgan who has affidavits from the FBI supporting that he was working undercover and helped to uncover a very dangerous criminal. He has reestablished himself as a father in his other son’s life, as a man with a full-time job and stable household. The minor child has expressed fear remaining in your custody, and you have constructively abandoned him, refused him medical treatment, and committed a violent act in his presence. Your home is not fit for him, Ms. McCall.”

“Your Honor,” Alexis began, but the judge held up his hand.

“My mind is made up, Ms. Davis. This court rules that the custody order continues. Daniel Morgan will remain in Jason Morgan’s primary custody. His mother may have supervised visitation. Additionally, Ms. McCall, I am ordering you to complete two months of anger management. You should be thanking Ms. Webber for not pressing charges. The video footage is very concerning. Your minor son is clearly distressed and upset, and you showed little to no awareness that he was even present.”

Diane got to her feet. “Your Honor, on the subject of supervision—”

“Ms. Miller?”

“My client would like to make this as painless as possible for his son. We would be satisfied with Ms. McCall being supervised by her mother, either of her sisters, or anyone else Ms. Davis chooses as often as Danny is comfortable with.”

The judge lifted his brows, then looked at Alexis and Sam again. “Once again, Ms. McCall, consider yourself lucky. I’ll leave the schedule up to Mr. Morgan, with a hearing to reconsider set for December. Court is adjourned.”

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

Elizabeth made a face when she saw Carly step out of the elevator — and head straight for her. She’d hoped to avoid this conversation for as long as possible, and maybe Carly had waited out of courtesy, but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to it.

“Hey! I figured you’d be working today. You’re always working,” Carly said, reaching her. “Can you take a few minutes?”

Elizabeth pursed her lip. “Wasn’t that the same reason you were so sure Lucky was the father? Because I hadn’t immediately quit my job to enjoy the gravy train?”

Carly wrinkled her nose. “Do we have to talk about ancient history today? I mean, we do because that’s why I’m here, but that’s not the event I wanted to discuss. It’s something much more important.”

“I’m sure it is.” Elizabeth clicked a few screens, then stepped out from behind the counter gesturing for Carly to head over to the cluster of sofas. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to help you. The FBI is at the Quartermaines,” Carly told Elizabeth. “They’re searching again—”

“They lifted injunction yesterday and it’s not raining, so we knew that would happen. If that’s it—”

Carly snagged Elizabeth’s elbow to stop her from returning to work. “Aren’t you interested in who came to search? Because it’s an old friend. Well, not friend, I suppose. But enemy.”

Elizabeth hesitated, then turned to face Carly fully. “What do you mean?”

“Gia Campbell. Michael remembered that she worked with me, so he let me know she was there. He doesn’t remember that you knew her at all, so of course he was wondering why some model from his childhood is showing up at the estate today.” Carly raised her brows. “But you know and I both know she hated your guts.”

Elizabeth released a breath. “Oh. Yeah, we knew Gia was on the case. We found out last week, and no, we don’t know why. Diane’s got a plan, so—”

“Good. Good. Because maybe you don’t remember or know, but Gia really hated you.” Carly folded her arms. “She and I had a lot in common back then — not the hating of you, except sure. But I knew she was as greedy and as ambitious as I was, you know? So if you need anyone to testify about what a horrorshow she was and how she’s absolutely holding a grudge because Laura picked you when Gia was the better choice, I’ll do it.”

“I can’t decide if you’re insulting me or not, because you’re right. Gia should have won. And she ended up taking the job, so—”

“But she was runner-up, and she knows it.” Carly made a face. “And you weren’t the worst model, okay? I just really hated you. That one ad campaign you did — we did pretty well.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, then closed it, confused. “Did you just—are you being nice to me?”

“It’s uncomfortable for me, too, don’t worry. But Jason gets to be with Jake, and that’s all I ever wanted for him. And I guess he likes you, too, and I’ve given up trying to get rid of you, so—” Carly paused. “I know what you’re going through sucks. But you’re listening to Diane, right? You’re doing everything she tells you to?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Good. I didn’t,” Carly added almost as an afterthought. “And it was the worst mistake of my life. I thought I knew better, and I tried to take a deal when Nelle was framing me, and I—” She swallowed hard, folded her arms, and looked away. “I ended up somewhere that nearly destroyed me, so—don’t go to prison. Because if you end up there, Jason will do what he did with Michael and confess to get you out, so just—don’t be stupid.”

Kevin & Laura’s Condo: Living Room

Dante stared down at the phone in his hand, then at Rocco sprawled out on the living room sofa. He approached his son, and sat on the edge of the coffee table. “Maybe you don’t care anymore, but Sam lost her hearings.”

Rocco didn’t look at him, kept his eyes trained on the ceiling above. “Both of them?”

“Yes. Drew and Jason have primary custody until at least December. Drew’s only going to let Sam have one two-hour visit a week. With some stranger from family services. Jason’s letting Danny see Sam with her grandmother or aunts as much as he wants.”

Rocco grimaced. “That…” He sat up, leaned back against the sofa. “Doesn’t really seem fair. Danny was screwing up more. Scout—she’s—she probably really hates this.”

“Yeah. It doesn’t.” Dante paused. “I know you don’t like Sam. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before—”

“I don’t—” Rocco shook his head. “I don’t hate her. I just—I mean, she’s not exactly my favorite, okay? But it was just how she was treating Danny, okay? And you know she’s been mental about it. I didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t like it either, and I should have tried hard to mediate. I should have seen you were unhappy. That doesn’t make anything you’ve done right, Rocco. Don’t think you’re off the hook.”

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t even care anymore.”

Dante waited a moment. “Your grandmother told me she took you to Silver Water. That you’re…struggling with your mother’s condition—”

“Struggling. That’s like Grandma. Always making something seem better than it is. I told her I wanted Mom to die. To turn off the machines and just let it happen.” His eyes were damp and Rocco dropped them to his lap. “And I’m not sorry. It’s how I feel.”

“You think that makes me angry?” His son’s only respond was the jerking of his shoulder, and Dante sighed. “You don’t want your mother to die, Rocco—”

“Don’t tell me what I want!” Rocco snapped, raising his head, his eyes glimmering with fury. “I know—”

“You want her to wake up. And you think that’s not an option. You want to stop living in the gray space. The middle where we get nothing. There’s no closure. How do you grieve someone who isn’t dead? But she’s gone all the same. So you want it to be over. There’s no shame in that, Rocco. No shame in resenting Sam because she’s not your mother. No shame in resenting Danny because he got his father back.”

Rocco dragged his forearm under his eyes. “I just…it’s too hard, Dad. All of it. And I want it to go away. So I make it go away.” He met his father’s gaze. “I make it go away however I can, and I’m not sorry for that.”

“I get it now. I didn’t before, and I’m sorry. I’m here now, and I’m ready to deal with this however you need me to. It might take me a few weeks to get a place of our own or maybe we can go to Grandma Olivia’s—”

“If we go back to the penthouse—” Rocco pressed his lips together. “If I knock my shit off and Sam stops punching people, will Scout get to come home?”

“I—” Dante tilted his head. “What?”

“Scout. Her father’s an asshole. Like a giant one who’s never given a shit about her, and she’s like—she doesn’t deserve this. Maybe Sam’s an asshole about Danny, but she’s not—Scout shouldn’t be part of any of this. I can’t—” He stopped. “I can’t fix Mom. Or you or Sam. Or Danny. But Scout’s just a kid. I can make that better, can’t I?”

“I—” Dante exhaled slowly. “It means a lot to me that you’re thinking about her at a time like this. Let’s…let’s talk about this more. Maybe we can do something to help her that isn’t going to make you unhappy, too. But I’m proud of you for thinking of her.”

Quartermaine Estate: Boat House

Gia couldn’t remember now if she’d ever actually been to the Quartermaine estate during her short tenure in Port Charles. She and Emily had never truly made peace in the year they’d known each other, so she’d never been invited —

She stood on the deck at the boat house, looking at the crime scene photos, then at the deck again, trying to get a better sense of what had happened here. While the crime scene unit had done their search, she’d walked through Elizabeth and Michael’s statement again — their trek from the terrace to the gardens —

“Gia.”

She looked up to find Caldwell climbing the stairs towards her, a plastic evidence bag in either hand. “We find something?”

“Jackpot. The missing bullet — we think,” he said, holding one bag up higher. “Gotta get it to match the fourth casing. But it’s not damaged as bad as the others. Might be able to match it.”

“That’s—that’s promising—” Gia looked at the other bag, frowned. “And that?”

“Not really sure. But we told the techs to bag anything that wasn’t trash.” He lifted it. “We think it’s a—”

“Heel.” Gia took the bag, examined it more closely. “From a woman’s shoe. Where’d you find it?”

“Pathway from the gardens.”

We ran…

“Webber came in to the PCPD that night in sneakers. I figured she’d ditched her shoes because they had blood on it,” Caldwell continued, and Gia looked at him. “We should get a search warrant to match them—”

“It broke when she ran down to the boat house,” Gia said, and he frowned. “That’s what her statement said. What Michael Corinthos has always said. They heard the shot and ran. I’ve—” She looked back at the wooded path. “I’ve run in heels before. They break pretty easily if you put the wrong pressure on them. It snapped when they ran towards the gunshots.”

The agent didn’t respond, and she looked at him. “She’s not lying. None of them are.”

“We…we don’t know that.”

“Don’t we?” Gia handed the bag back, rubbed her forehead. “Process it. Prepare a report. And get a warrant for Webber’s house — but don’t—don’t serve it yet. Let me think about this.”

+35

Written in 54 minutes.

Wednesday, September 25, 2024

Penthouse: Kitchen

Sam watched the remains of her coffee drain out of the sink, then switched off the faucet. “I appreciate you staying over last night, but you really didn’t have to—”

“I told you. Now that my case is over, I’m going to focus on you completely,” Kristina told her sister, leaning against the kitchen counter, her own coffee grasped in both hands. “I need something to think about that isn’t the dumpster fire of everything else in my life.”

Sam sighed, and turned away from the sink, heading towards the doorway and the rest of the penthouse. “I don’t know how I feel about being someone’s charity case—”

“You’re my sister, not charity. And how many times have you put everything on hold for me?” Kristina demanded, following her. Sam turned at the sofa to face her sister. “Do you think I’ve forgotten how you got wrapped up with Shiloh and the Dawn of Day in the first place?”

Sam rubbed her arms, grimaced. “He went after you because of me, Krissy. Because of what I did to his father—”

“But I’m the weak moron who thought he could fix me. I was fragile and useless, and I put everyone in danger because of it. You went to jail, Sam!” Kristina shook her head. “No, you’ve been there for me every step of my life. I’m not going to let you go through this alone. Everyone else might have abandoned you — and don’t think I won’t be getting on Dante for moving out—”

“He did what he needed to do for his son.” Sam scrubbed her hands down her face. “Rocco hates me.”

“He doesn’t. Hey, he doesn’t Sam. He just hates anyone who isn’t his mother.” Kristina folded her arms. “He’s a teenager. I thought I knew everything then, and I didn’t listen to what Mom said. She was right, and I refused to believe that. Rocco will realize his father is doing the best he can, and maybe then you and Dante can piece things back together. But until then, I’m sticking to you like glue.”

“I just—Mom’s gone over what’s going to happen today, and I know—I know she’s going to try to plead my side of things, but she doesn’t believe the words she’s saying.” Sam’s voice thickened. “She can’t see what I see, and she won’t be able to make the judge see. And God, it doesn’t even matter. Because none of it is a legal defense. I really screwed things up, Krissy. Last Saturday. I should have just—” She pressed her lips together. “I should have realized Danny wouldn’t see it the way I do. He thinks Elizabeth is on his side. I should have just pretended to be grateful she gave him a ride, and let him go. But I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t see past the fact that she was doing everything she could to make me look like the crazy one, and I had to go give her and Jason all the ammunition they needed to take my son away.”

“Danny might not see it now,” Kristina said, “but I promise you, a few more weeks of living in that house, he’ll start to understand how Elizabeth twists everything into making herself the victim. I went to talk to her about all of this weeks ago — after you and Jason had that huge fight at the station, right? I just wanted to try to and make peace. And she picked a fight that made me feel like I was wrong. Started talking about her five minutes of experience being a surrogate like it compares in any way to carrying my daughter for all those months—” Kristina took a deep breath. “Danny might not see it now, Sam. But he will. Until then, Mom’s right. We need to play this by the rules. We have to let this play out in court.”

“Supervised visitation,” Sam muttered. “Elizabeth probably loves this, you know? She hated   when I made Jason do that with Danny.” She paused. “I thought if I made Jason agree he could only see Danny with Jake — that it would make Jason back down from forcing it. Because I knew Jake would refuse.”

“Elizabeth probably made Jake go through with it,” Kristina said, and Sam wrinkled her nose. “Didn’t she suggest being there to help Jake handle it? Manipulating everything from the beginning, Sam. But she’s not going to win, okay? Danny will realize she’s pulling the strings, Jason will get bored playing house like he always does, and hey, maybe the FBI will shove her back in jail for a few weeks.”

Sam frowned, looked at her sister. “Why would they do that? She’s out on bail until trial, and she’s—I mean, I’m furious at the whole thing, but I don’t want her in jail. I’ve been there. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” She got to her feet. “But you’re right. I have to be patient. Take my visitation, and hope Danny sees what I do. And if Jason does get bored with being a househusband, he’ll get the itch to go out and risk his life — and the court will have to see I’m more stable. I just—I have to let things play out. I used to be good at that. Playing the long game. I was a pretty good con artist back in the day. Not something to be proud of,” she admitted, “but there are lessons I can take from it. The board’s been set up, and we just have to let everyone play the roles they’re meant for.”

“Exactly. Everything will take care of itself, Sam, you’ll see.”

Sam smiled, a bit more genuinely now. “I better get ready. Like a lamb to a slaughter, right? Gotta look the part.”

She headed for the stairs, and Kristina watched her go.

Sure, Sam was right — eventually it would all go back the way it was meant to. But sometimes the first domino needed a little help to fall.

Kristina just had to figure out which one to push.

Webber House: Kitchen

Danny slid his cereal bowl to the middle of the counter, the remains of the Lucky Charms becoming little more than a soggy mess. “But I don’t understand why I can’t go. This is about me.”

“I get it.” Jason took the bowl, dumped the remains and rinsed it before putting it in the dishwasher with the rest of the dishes from everyone else who had eaten breakfast more than an hour ago and left for work or school. “And if I were you, I’d want to be there, too. But it’s not how any of this works.”

“But—”

“Danny.” When his son just glared at him, Jason rubbed the corner of his eyebrow with his thumb. “Listen. It’s not that I’m telling you no. The court has strict rules about this kind of thing. They assigned you that lawyer you talked to yesterday. They’re going to go argue on your behalf. Your voice is in the room. They just don’t want you to be there. It’s upsetting—”

“It’s worse to sit at home—”

“It’s worse in the room,” Jason interrupted. “Because Diane needs to stand up and talk about why you need to be with me, why your mother’s house isn’t the right place, and then your grandmother will get up and talk about me and why I’m terrible option for you. It’s things you’ve heard before, I know. But it’s different in a court room. You’re not allowed to react when you want, the way you want. It’s awful, and I don’t want you there for it.”

Danny looked away. “I hate all of this.”

“I know you do.” Jason tipped his head. “I hate it, too. And I did everything I could avoid doing it this way. And, believe it or not, so did your mother. But trying to figure it out on our own — we made it worse. You’ve been put in the middle in a way I never wanted.” He stopped. “Are you worried the attorney they gave you won’t be honest about what you said?”

“I dunno. Maybe she’ll only tell you what she wants. She made it pretty clear,” Danny muttered. “Asked me to describe the last year and then the last few weeks, and she was like, do you feel safe at home, and I—” His voice changed, thickened. “I didn’t answer her. Mom would never, ever hurt me.”

“No, she wouldn’t. I’ve never once worried about that, Danny. I don’t like how she’s handling a lot of things, okay, but I’ve never worried she’d lay a hand on you.”

“But—” Danny lifted his gaze to his father’s. “I was scared. When she didn’t listen to me. When she got on that elevator, and she was so angry. She took my phone and I couldn’t warn Elizabeth. I thought Mom was gonna hurt her. And then she did. I couldn’t stop her. I couldn’t stop either of them. I know Liz is sorry about it, and I guess I don’t really blame her. Mom hit her first, and she was gonna get her arrested.” Danny looked down. “Once I told the attorney that, it kind of felt like she had an opinion.”

“I don’t like what happened that day either,” Jason said after a moment. “And if we could do it again, your mother should have gone with Jake, and I should have driven you to your mother’s. It would have been different. But I honestly thought if she was in the lobby, and Sam never knew she was there—and that’s not your fault for giving her enough information that she guessed it, Danny. It’s not,” he repeated when Danny looked unconvinced. “Your mom lost her temper in front of you. There are consequences for that. Especially in court. But I promise you. I’m not trying to make this worse. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you can see her as soon as possible, and as much as you want.”

“But it’s up to the court now because of Saturday. Because the cops got involved, and then Rocco and me got in a fight. Yeah, I get it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Chase’s Apartment: Living Room

“I was surprised to get your call,” Chase said, stepping back to allow Spinelli through the front door. He closed it. “You pretty much know what we do, so there’s not a lot I can give you.”

“I know, but—” Spinelli squinted. “Why are we meeting here anyway? I thought you and Brook Lyn were living on the estate.” He took in the room — where the sofa had been shoved to one side and a large whiteboard was in the center — but the side facing him was blank.

“Well, that was supposed to be temporary,” Chase said. “Until my niece went to live with Finn. But I wanted a place to put things together that isn’t…open to everyone else.” He perched on the arm of the armchair. “Diane Miller has made it clear to you that you have to play by a certain set of rules, right? To have anything you get be admissible, right?”

“Yeah. And she’s taken a step further. I’m not supposed to talk about the investigation with anyone I don’t trust.” Spinelli shoved his hands in pockets. “The problem is that list is pretty short right now. I know Dante’s off the because of Rocco and Danny, and that’s fine. But you’ve made me think you’re taking this seriously. That you’re investigating everything. No matter where it leads.”

“Elizabeth is innocent. Period. But it’s not enough for me to know that,” Chase said. “I have to prove it. Which means I need whoever actually did this. Or I have to do enough to prove the FBI doesn’t have jurisdiction. If we can get this kicked out of federal court, Robert wouldn’t refile locally. I don’t care who did this, Spinelli. Or who they’re connected to.”

“Then let me run something past you and see how it sticks.” Spinelli went to his tote bag, removed a manila folder. “The first thing I did was watch the security footage at Elizabeth’s house. I don’t have the view of the trunk — that’s still tied up in court and the Feds are making it a pain. I don’t think they want me to have it. Or the techstream data from her car to show when the trunk was opened. I was supposed to have both of that this week — and somehow, both of those subpoenas were delayed for another week. The Feds are playing games because they think Elizabeth knows something about Stone Cold, and they’re trying to force her into turning on him.”

“Which is a problem because he doesn’t know anything either,” Chase said, and Spinelli relaxed. “I believe Jason might have wanted Cates out of the picture. I just don’t think he was willing to kill him to do it. And if he had been — this isn’t how he’d do it. You started with the security footage. So did we. And the only thing I have that’s not normal is Kristina. She comes the day after the murder, stays a short period. Elizabeth leaves a few minutes after Kristina. And Kristina comes back to the door. Then leaves again. She had motive, opportunity — and I’ll never prove it, I’m sure she had the means.”

Spinelli closed his eyes, nodded. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or horrified that Chase had followed the same line of evidence. He looked at the detective. “Yeah. When Kristina was asked about the visit, she said something about wanting to help Sam and Jason make peace. There’d been an argument the night before after the kids were questioned. It was a hostile conversation — and Kristina left. Elizabeth doesn’t know Kristina’s my suspect. No one does. But Kristina told me herself that it was a short conversation. That Elizabeth was on her way out.”

“And her reason to go back?”

“To get Elizabeth not to mention that she’d called the baby Adela and not Irene. It’s a sore point between Molly and Kristina — understandably. But not one Kristina has ever showed any evidence of giving a damn about it. Just that one day.”

“And she came back after knowing Elizabeth intended to be leaving.” Chase exhaled slowly. He went to the board, and flipped it over, revealing the division between Alexis and Kristina. “We can’t verify her alibi. She’s meant to be at her apartment — but he’s refusing to hand over footage without a court order, and Sonny’s got a lawyer who isn’t Diane playing games in court.”

“I…was worried about that,” Spinelli said slowly. “Not because I knew Sonny’s lawyer was holding off — but because — I know he knows the details of the case. He knows the weapon and ammunition.”

Chase furrowed his brow. “He does?”

“I can’t prove that in court, but he’s talked to Jason and he had that information in hand. And again, I can’t prove this in court because it’s not really evidence. But I’ve seen inside the safe at Sonny’s office at the restaurant. He keeps the unregistered guns there. The ones without serial numbers.”

Chase looked at his board. “Do you think I’ve got the wrong parent up there?”

“I think Alexis would cover up for Kristina without blinking,” Spinelli said. “But she’d never frame someone as a first choice. Neither would Sonny. But if Kristina had already set up the frame job — I think either of them would cover for her. I think Sonny’s already started.”

“Which means if he finds out she’s an actual suspect—” Chase rubbed his mouth. “Shit. How do we investigate her without Sonny shipping her out of the country?”

“I don’t know. I never—” Spinelli swallowed hard. “I’ve known the family a long time. To think that Sonny is allowing Elizabeth to go through this — I want to think he believes Diane will make this go away. But if you’re telling me his lawyer is delaying footage that would help us eliminate Kristina—I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

“Whatever we do next — we need to do it very carefully,” Chase said. “Or this blows up in our faces.”

+35

Written in 84 minutes. Sorry! I wanted to get all these scenes in this update so I can start a new day in the next part 😛 Merry Christmas!

Tuesday, September 24, 2025

Pozzulo’s Restaurant: Dining Room

Sonny exhaled with relief, then set his phone aside. “Kristina’s case was dismissed.” Across the table, Michael leaned back, grimaced. “That’s good news,” his father added when Michael said nothing.

“Sure. I just—” Michael shifted, then reached for his fork to push his salad around the plate. “I don’t know. Do you know what she and Alexis were planning with the baby?”

Sonny squinted. “Planning? When? What?”

“Before the accident. Before she fell. Alexis drew up custody papers. She was going to sue TJ for custody. She was going to back out of the surrogate agreement.”

Sonny looked away, dropped his eyes, and Michael tilted his head. “You didn’t know, but you also don’t look surprised.”

“The way she’s, ah, handled everything,” Sonny said, with a slight wave of his hand. “She’s been hard on Molly. And I didn’t miss that she’s calling the baby Adela.” He picked up his bourbon. “Never should have let her go through with this. Just a mistake from beginning to end.”

“There’s a reason they don’t recommend first time mothers become surrogates,” Michael said. “Once Kristina started to feel that baby grow—”

“It’s deeper than that,” Sonny insisted. “She’s…she’s like me. Family—we get obsessive. We do everything to hold them close, even when we should be keeping our distance.” He stroked his jaw. “Even if she’d handed that baby over, she’d have never stopped thinking about it. And we’d have gone on for years. Not that I think it’s some kind of blessing what happened to her—”

“No one thinks, Dad.” Michael shook his head. “I just hope she can move on. To start really healing. Molly can’t heal until Kristina does.”

“Well, Molly should have known better than to let Kristina go through with this,” Sonny retorted, and Michael lifted his brows. “I want my daughter to move on, and stop acting like a fool. Getting into messes that the rest of us have to clean up.” He set his drink down. “Acting on impulse, and making everything worse. She needs to grow up.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Main Floor

Jason heaved a sack of coffee beans to one side, then caught sight of a familiar figure winding her through through the main floor towards the cargo dock. “Hey,” he said, greeting Elizabeth with a one-armed hug and a brush of his lips against his temple. “Everything okay? I thought you were on shift until eight—”

“I am, but I took a long lunch. Dante asked to meet with both of us,” she said. “And I figured this was probably the best place—and before you ask—he said it’s not about the case, so I didn’t call Diane. She’s got enough on her plate.”

Jason took her hand, and they headed towards his office, tucked in the corner of the warehouse. “She’s definitely earning her retainer and more.” He held the door open for her, then saw Dante coming through the door at the other side. He gestured for the other man to join them.

“We’re going to owe her a shopping trip in Milan by the time this is done,” Elizabeth said. She dropped her bag on the desk, and waited for Dante to join them.

“Sorry about the short notice,” Dante said when Jason closed the door behind him and went to adjust the blinds. “And thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

“You said it’s not about the case?” Jason asked, leaning against the desk, folding his arms. “Then it’s about Danny.”

“I’m…being removed from the investigation,” Dante said, and Elizabeth frowned. “It was always a little dicey having me on it — but it should have been okay. Our investigation eliminated both of you almost immediately, which meant living with Danny wasn’t an issue.” He paused. “But the boys getting into that fight—it just makes it all little…more complicated. I asked to step side, but the request was coming.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Elizabeth said. “Whatever we’ve been dealing with personally, you’re a good cop, Dante, and I felt better knowing you and Chase were on this. Is…is Chase staying on?”

“Yeah. For now. Like I said, we’re confident in eliminating you guys, and we’d been working on our own list. Chase can follow up from there. But I can’t keep sidestepping all of that, and doing right right by Danny and Rocco.”

“No, the boys—they’re a priority, and they should be. How’s…how’s Rocco doing?” Elizabeth asked. “Aiden was disappointed he couldn’t do more.”

“He’s—” Dante took a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Not great. You know, kids—they’re resilient. Or you think they are. I thought Rocco was handling what happened to his mom, and I thought—” He looked away, pressed his lips together and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna figure out how to get him through this. I, uh, I was gonna testify tomorrow in Sam’s favor,” he told them. “But…Alexis told me it wouldn’t make a difference. And I’m not sure…” He paced away a few steps. “I’m not sure custody should go back the way it was. Not with Danny.” He looked back to Jason. “I left my family, too, you know. But I didn’t let my kid think I was dead. Sam’s never gonna forgive you for that.”

“I’m not concerned with her forgiveness,” Jason said, his tone almost flat.

“You should be. She was the one raising your kid while you were gone. She went too far, putting Danny in the middle of it. But I heard him crying one more too many nights because his father was dead,” Dante retorted. “Maybe it’s easier for Elizabeth to forgive it—”

“Don’t speak for me,” Elizabeth cut in sharply, and he looked at her. “Because I was angry, too. And so was Jake. That’s not what these last few months have been. Don’t do what everyone has done for Sam her whole life. You’re making excuses for her. You think Jake didn’t mourn his father? You think I didn’t have to deal with that? You think I wasn’t mourning the loss of one of my best friends? Sam wasn’t angry about Jason faking his death and you know it.”

Dante scowled. “Don’t tell me—”

“She was pissed that he did it to protect Sonny and Carly, so she took it out on Danny. Just like she’s punishing Danny because she’s angry with me. I’m sorry she has an inferiority complex, Dante. But if you’re here to ask Jason for mercy tomorrow, you’re in the wrong place. She tried to have me arrested for kidnapping, Dante. Do you know what the FBI would have done with that?”

Dante exhaled slowly. “Revoked your bail.”

“You’re damn right. And you said it yourself — you’ve eliminated me. So Sam was willing to take me away from my kids for months, maybe forever — because I sat in the lobby so her son could extend the olive branch. You said you wanted to meet with us both. Why?”

“I thought if we could just talk—”

“I’d forget what Sam’s done for the last few months?” Jason interrupted. “She insisted that Elizabeth supervise visits with Danny and that I could only see him with Jake, and now she’s angry that Danny sees Elizabeth as someone to trust. Because she wanted to punish me, force Jake into visits he wasn’t ready for — it backfired on her. Jake and Danny want to stay together. Sam’s been creating her own problems since the day I met her. She makes herself the victim and then waits for someone to run to her rescue, then wants to complain about how you do it. I know she loves Danny. I know she’s generally a good mother, and I let her set the terms. But that’s over now.”

“Fine. You’ve both made up your minds.” Dante held up his hands in mock surrender. “But  just so you know — Rocco and I are moving out because Rocco doesn’t want to be there either. So tomorrow, after you win your case, and Drew swoops in like a vulture, Sam’s going to be left without any of her kids. But I guess you think she deserves it. She did all the damn work for both their lives, and then both you assholes think you come in and take over. It’s bullshit.”

He slammed the door when he left so hard the glass rattled.

Hanley Federal Building: U.S Attorney’s Offices

Gia knocked on Reynolds’ office door. “I’m heading to Port Charles tonight so I can supervise the crime scene search tomorrow.” She leaned against the door frame. “I heard your other PC case was dismissed.”

“I dropped the charges,” Reynolds said, getting to his feet. “It was always a weak case meant to bolster Cates’ goal in antagonizing Sonny Corinthos. I’ll be able to focus the rest of my attention on this case—”

“Good. We’re going to need it.” Gia paused. “You know the locals are running a parallel investigation, and one of the detectives — he sent me a file with witness interviews. Said he thought we should be aware of what Diane Miller has.”

“It’s local corruption—Corinthos and Morgan have those cops in their pockets. He’s related to one of the investigators—”

“Harrison Chase? He’s married to Brook Lynn Quartermaine. I don’t know if something has changed in twenty years, Noah, but Jason Morgan didn’t give a damn about most of that family, much less extended cousins he didn’t grow up with. And if I remember right, Brook is almost twenty years younger than him.”

Reynolds squinted. “Is there something in these interviews we should know about?”

“The alibi for Elizabeth—” Gia pursed her lips, looked down at her notes. “It’s tight. Really  tight. She’s got a bunch of teenagers who tell the same story — she goes down to the gardens with Michael Corinthos and the shots are heard within five minutes.”

“It’s enough time—”

“Maybe. But I can’t get over Corinthos being the 911 caller,” Gia continued. “If he doesn’t call right away — it’s harder to pin point that. The gunshot witnesses — why are they giving times that make it so tight? Especially when we’re talking about the son of the defendant? Jake Webber could have said the shots happened with his mother still in eye sight.”

“Gia—”

“Noah. These are witnesses we’re going to have to destroy in a trial. And I’ve watched the Webber kid’s interrogation. He holds up. He held up when Caldwell went to his school, his mother was in jail—”

“He’s Jason Morgan’s son. He’s been coached well—”

“What’s the point of being on this case if you won’t listen to me,” Gia interrupted. “I told you that I knew how things worked in Port Charles. I was there when Jason Morgan and Sonny Corinthos were at their peak of power. I’m telling you this doesn’t smell right.”

Reynolds waited a long moment. “We know Jason Morgan is involved. If you’re right, and Webber isn’t pulling the trigger, then she knows something. The gun was in her car. She was on scene when the Cates died. And Morgan just so happens to be right inside the house so his boys could perfectly alibi him? Cates was making his life difficult. I’ve read the Webber file. She’s been in and out of his life since she was her son’s age. I think she’d lie for him. I think she’d do anything to protect him.”

Gia bit her lip. She couldn’t deny that — she knew that Elizabeth was loyal to Jason above pretty much anything else. Or she had been. She’d hid the man in her studio for weeks, lying to Lucky, hadn’t she? And clearly they were still involved.

“I’m just saying I don’t know if we win at trial. Not without really destroying some of these kids on the stand. So if we’re trying to get to the answers, Noah, we’d better hope we find something at the Quartermaines tomorrow.”

Rice Plaza: Office Towers

Danny climbed into the passenger seat. “Took you long enough.”

Jake shifted the SUV from park into drive, then pulled away from the curb. “Hey, I could be enjoying my one day vacation, and I have to spend it dragging you around town. You should be grateful.”

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be vacationing at work and Dad would have taken the car to work.”

Danny wasn’t wrong, but Jake wasn’t gonna admit it. “How’d it go?”

“How do you think?”

“I don’t know. I never had to talk to a lawyer.” Jake paused at a red light. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

Danny hesitated, then jerked a shoulder. “She’s got her mind made up. She watched the security video from Saturday, and some social worker already wrote a report that said Mom’s house is unstable,” he said, the final words were a bit of a mocking tone. He slid a glare out of the corner of his eye. “You agree, so don’t bother to pretend you don’t.”

“Your mom slugged mine, and then was gonna have her charged with kidnapping, Danny. You met that asshole from the FBI. You think he wouldn’t have my mom back in that jail by night time? So yeah, I think your mom is fucking mental which is what you’ve saying for weeks.”

“I hate it. Scout’s at her dad’s, and he won’t even let her talk to me,” Danny bit out. “Mom’s at home, Rocco’s at his grandmother’s. It’s all fucked up, and it’s my fault—”

“You get like twenty percent of the blame, okay? Mom gets five for being dumb enough to try to help, Dad gets like twenty for leaving for two years and your mom gets what’s ever left.” Jake turned onto Elm Street. “I know it sucks, Danny. She’s your mom, and you love her. But do you wanna go back to how it was before? When you could only see Dad for like two hours? Supervised?”

“It’s how it’s gonna be now. Mom’s gonna get supervised visits, the attorney said.” Danny leaned back against the head rest. “I guess it’s fair, right? She did it to Dad, and now karma’s making it happen to her. I just wish we hadn’t gone to that dumbass party. It wasn’t worth it. Now everything’s ruined.”

Jake pulled up to the house, switched off the ignition. “I get it. I do,” he insisted when Danny rolled his eyes. “You think it’s always been easy at my house? Yeah, Mom’s great. Always has been. But she has shitty taste in men. I get older, and I look back at Franco, and I think she married him because he was nice to me. But he was always getting in trouble, and she spent all her time on him. Then he died, and Finn the asshole came along — all I’m saying is — you deal with the hand you’re dealt. Your mom is getting a wake up call. The same one mine got when she got wrapped up with that stupid Esme shit last year. Mom got her act together, and then we drop kicked Finn into rehab and we never have to think about him again. Your mom will figure it out, you’ll get visits with her, and she’ll get you and your sister back by Christmas. If not sooner. Because you know Dad’s not out for blood.”

“Yeah.” Danny exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Dad didn’t want to do this. I used to be mad he wasn’t fighting back, but now that he is, I get why he didn’t want to do this. I didn’t—” His voice shook slightly. “I didn’t want to tell her all the stuff Mom said about Dad, about Elizabeth. About you, you know? She’s my mom, it’s like—”

“It’s disloyal.”

“Yeah.” Danny looked at his brother. “And she told me to be honest, and I had to like — I had to say I like it at your house. I always did. And I like living with Dad. He’s there when I wake up, and when I go to bed, and I never had that before. I know that’s his fault, you know? But I still like it. And you’re an asshole, but—”

“I like how things are, too,” Jake agreed. “I’m just sorry your mom had to go crazy and mine had to get arrested, but you had to be honest. It’ll be okay. Trust Dad to make it okay.”

Danny smiled slightly. “Remember like three months ago when I was like, Dad’s a good a guy and you punched me? How’s it feel to be wrong?”

“Shut up.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason’s Office

Elizabeth dropped into the chair by Jason’s desk, crossed one leg, and folded her arms. “I can’t believe he dragged me all the way down here so he could plead Sam’s case. My God. The arrogance—” She met Jason’s gaze as he leaned back against the desk. “But it probably looked familiar to you.”

“Trying to save Sam from a situation she created? Unfortunately.” Jason shook his head. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I really—I tried so hard to keep Jake and Danny from going through any of this. I never wanted them to dragged through the system the way Sonny and Carly did to their boys—”

“You didn’t start this, Jason,” Elizabeth said gently. “You did everything Sam wanted, and it was never enough—”

“I did start this,” he interrupted. “I—” He paused. “I took for granted that Jake and Danny would be okay without him. Because they had mothers who loved them. I convinced myself I couldn’t bring anything to their lives that wasn’t violence. That my life would destroy them if I was around all the time.” He got to his feet, paced to the door, then to the other side of the office. “I told myself it would be enough to be there when you asked for me. I came running any time you did,” he said, looking at Elizabeth. “I looked for reasons to help.”

“I know.” Elizabeth rose, but didn’t come towards him. “You’ve always done that.”

“I told you—when I told you that day that I couldn’t be with you and Jake—and Cam—I never meant to be with anyone else,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to make that a lie.” She sighed, looked away. “I’m sorry—”

“You’re allowed to want something in your life, Jason. And honestly—” Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, smiled faintly. “I’m not surprised it was Sam. She was a lot like Carly, you know? They both create disasters that you have to fix. Over and over again. I watched you repeat that cycle again and again, and I knew that I could never give you want you needed—”

“That’s—”

“I never wanted you to save me,” Elizabeth said softly. “I never needed or wanted it. And I wasn’t ever going to put myself in danger just to get your attention. I watched you do that with Courtney, and then I watched you do it with Sam. You just said it, Jason. You don’t think you have anything else to offer, so you couldn’t be happy with someone who didn’t need you to be the hero.”

He swallowed hard, but it was hard to argue with the way she’d put that together. He looked away. “I’m not proud of that—”

“I don’t think you did it on purpose, Jason. And I didn’t see it then. Not until much later, until after Jake was kidnapped by the Russians, and he nearly died. You blamed yourself. You decided it was your life that had brought him to that point. Not Lucky or Sam who got in over their head. Not me who didn’t listen to you and put myself and the boys in danger because I was so scared. You couldn’t see it logically. Because you decided a long time ago that your legacy was pain and violence.”

“It is—”

“Part of it. You worked for Sonny for a very long time,” she said and now she approached him. “And that will always be part of you. But you forget how long I’ve known you,” she said. “You absolutely have tried to create a balance and put good in this world. You nearly died saving people in the hotel fire, you traveled halfway around the world to get the antidote for the virus—” She laid a hand on his chest. “More than either of his parents, when I see Michael, I see the warmth and compassion that he learned from you. And you’re bringing that to your sons, to Cameron and Aiden. I wish that you could believe that’s enough. That being good father, present and empathetic— that it’s enough.”

“I’m working on it,” he said, covering her hand with his.

“A lifetime ago,” Elizabeth said, meeting his gaze, “a bunch of doctors who thought they had all the answers told you that you were damaged. You’ve spent your entire life trying to prove them wrong. When will it be enough?”

+46

Written in 70 minutes.

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Miller & Davis: Spinelli’s Office

Diane rapped on the open office door, and folded her arms. “I just heard from Michael’s lawyer.”

Spinelli rubbed his mouth and sighed. “The injunction was lifted.”

“Yes. Our only saving grace is that it’s raining again today,” Diane said, nodding to the window behind Spinelli where raindrops pounded the glass. “But the weather forecast is clear tomorrow.”

“Which means the FBI will be up here searching.” Spinelli pushed away from the desk and crossed over to his bulletin board, studying it as if it the answers would somehow highlight themselves when they hadn’t given him anything in more than a week. “It’s not the end of the world. There’s no guarantee they’ll find anything to help themselves. Especially with the rain over the last few weeks.”

“Three weeks is a long time for evidence to sit at a crime scene,” Diane agreed. “So no, the search itself isn’t the problem—”

“We’re running out of time to avoid a trial.” Spinelli grimaced, met Diane’s gaze. “If I could cut through of the red tape, we might have more. I’d already have the footage, the car data—”

“We’ve been over this, Spinelli. First, this conversation isn’t happening. And second, the feds aren’t really interested in the truth. They almost certainly know Elizabeth didn’t pull that trigger. They want Jason. They’ll ignore anything we turn up and point to any hint of illegality.”

“I know. I know.” Spinelli stared hard at the crime scene photo. “If this goes to trial—”

“I’m relatively confident that I have enough for reasonable doubt. The timing is too tight, the alibi from Michael is unchallenged. But juries are unpredictable,” Diane reminded him. “And I don’t exactly have a smoking gun. I can’t even prove the gun was planted.” She pressed her lips together, then took a deep breath. “But we have time. We likely won’t get the case dismissed next week, but a trial won’t happen for six months or longer. I can push it, keep Elizabeth out on bail.”

“Kick the can down the road,” Spinelli murmured. He looked at Diane. “Have you called them?”

“No. Elizabeth’s at work, and I wanted to tell you before I called Jason. But this isn’t anything we didn’t expect.”

“I know. All the same—if it’s all right, I’ll head down to the warehouse and tell him myself. Maybe pick his brain a little—not about my theory,” Spinelli added when Diane opened her mouth. “I want more weight on my side before I bring that up. The footage, the techstream data from the car—but it won’t hurt to talk to him about Cates. Maybe there’s something we’re missing.”

James M. Hanley Federal Building: Courtroom

Alexis rose to her feet, her reading glasses in one hand. “It’s all in my amended petition, Your Honor. Giglio and Franks made it very clear that any case whose foundation is investigative misconduct needs to be dismissed with prejudice.”

Reynolds shook his head. “Ms. Davis is misreading those cases, Your Honor. Our case against Ms. Corinthos Davis is not based only on Agent Cates’ affidavit. We have sworn testimony from Ava Jerome, the victim—”

“Alleged victim,” Alexis snapped. “It’s only on Agent Cates’ say-so that Ava Jerome was even a federal witness — I’ve still seen no records that prove that. And if she wasn’t, this case doesn’t fall under federal jurisdiction.”

Judge McAvoy lifted his brows, looked at the Assistant U.S. Attorney. “Can the Government provide additional evidence at this time outside of John Cates?”

Reynolds hesitated. “Not at the moment, but with further investigation—”

“That isn’t the standard,” Alexis interrupted. “John Cates’ credibility has come under serious attack with the forensics reports suggesting that he was willing to fabricate evidence to get what he wanted. He’s not available to be cross-examined. I might also add that I was not made aware of that forensics report by the U.S Attorney’s office, but by the local police department. Under Giglio, that alone is reason enough for a dismissal.”

“The forensics report was from an unrelated case,” Reynolds argued. “The delay is understandable—”

“But not permissible. I’m going to give you two choices, Mr. Reynolds,” the judge said. “Dismiss the charges on your own without prejudice to be presented at a time when you have the necessary evidence. Or I’ll dismiss them with prejudice right now. And this case dies today. What’s it going to be?”

Quartermaine Mansion: Kitchen

Brook Lynn huffed and picked up her phone, scrolling to her contacts. “What’s the point of having an influential name if we can’t pull strings?” she demanded.

Michael stirred sugar into his coffee, not responding to his cousin’s remarks. She was as disappointed as he was to learn the injunction had been dismissed. They’d known it was a long shot, but he’d wanted more time.

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in Chase,” Brook continued, sitting down at the table, continuing to flick though her phone. “But I really thought we’d have found something. It’s so obviously a setup! The FBI is basically calling you a liar! Isn’t anyone thinking about that?”

“I’m surprised,” Michael said a bit slowly, “they haven’t done more to challenge me. They really went after Jake and Danny. Going to the school, talking to Danny on his own — they tried really hard to break Jason’s alibi.”

“Exactly! It’s just proof that they don’t think Elizabeth really did it! This is just bananas. Obviously some crazy person was following Cates around, and we just happened to be the place where he lost control.” Brook made a face, looked at Michael. “What do we do next? What can we do to help?”

“Not much.” Michael sat at the table. “Neither of us have any real power. I might…” he hesitated. “I might try to talk to someone at the Sun. I wish Alexis were still working there.” He scratched his jaw. “Maybe I’ll find out if she has any connections. We could use more press on this.”

“I just hate it. We were having a perfectly nice family gathering, and some bastard had to come along to ruin it.” Brook scowled. “I guess we gave the FBI a headache, but I’m not satisfied. We have to do more.”

“I know. I’ll talk to Molly. Maybe she has some other ideas.” Michael paused. “But maybe I should call Diane. It has to mean something the FBI never came back to talk to me. I’m the alibi witness. Me and the kids. We all make it impossible for Elizabeth to have done this. That’s going to kill them at trial. Why don’t they care about that?”

“That’s a very good question.” Brook leaned forward. “They’re not expecting to go to trial, are they?”

“No. They’re not.” He tipped his head, considering that angle. “They still think Jason did this. They must think Jason will come forward or that Elizabeth will turn him in. That’s why they tried to break his alibi, and not hers.”

“That has to be some kind of misconduct or whatever, right? The feds prosecuting a case they don’t even believe in?” Brook pursed her lips. “How do we use that? That’s our next angle. Man, why don’t we own a newspaper or a media outlet? You should look into that.”

“I’ll get right on it, but I don’t think there’s enough time,” Michael said dryly. “I’m going to call Diane. Maybe she’ll have some ideas.”

Syracuse, NY: The York Restaurant

Sam lifted her glass. “To Alexis Davis, making her triumphant return to the courtroom and wiping the floor with anyone who gets in her way.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Kristina said, tapping her glass against her sister’s, then her mothers. They were both drinking iced tea as a show of support to their mother’s recovery. “And now that Mom has performed miracles in getting my case dropped, I’m sure we’ll see similar results tomorrow.”

“Not likely,” Sam said with a grimace. She set her glass down, picked up her fork. “Mom made it very clear I don’t have a shot in hell of winning.”

“That’s not precisely what I said,” Alexis said. “You’ll need to make some concessions, but I have every confidence we’ll be able to get visitation—’

“Supervised,” Sam said with a wrinkle of her nose. “Maybe. For Danny. But now that Drew knows about Saturday—”

“Drew?” Kristina frowned. “How did he find out? I thought Elizabeth wasn’t pressing charges.”

“She’s not. It would make her look awful for her case,” Sam said, “so we both agreed to just let it go, I guess. But the cops made it a problem—”

“They had no choice,” Alexis reminded Sam gently. “Once they saw the footage, they had to write a report. I imagine word of mouth got to Drew. He’s not backing down on custody.”

“It’s for his stupid campaign. So he looks like a family man.” Her appetite gone, Sam pushed her plate away. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“So that’s just it?” Kristina demanded, looking at their mother. “Sam loses custody of her kids because she made one mistake?”

“A trio of very mistakes,” Alexis corrected gently. “Leaving Danny at the police station, refusing consent to treat, and then beginning a physical altercation—I’m sorry, Sam. You know if I thought we had an angle to fight this, I would—”

“But you had a good reason for all of that,” Kristina said to her sister. “You know you did. Danny was perfectly awful to you! He’d been getting worse. And then he pulled that stunt! Why not leave him with his father? And so what if you hesitated in putting him therapy? You were right to worry that Elizabeth was trying to get influence over Danny—”

“None of that matters in court. They’re not going to care that Elizabeth manipulating my son,” Sam bit out. “Are they, Mom?”

Alexis hesitated when both her daughters turned their gazes on her. “If the manipulation is that Elizabeth convinced Danny to get therapy, found him a well-regarded doctor in the field, and then tried to help him reach out to you to participate in that therapy — no, I don’t think so.”

“So you’re taking her side in all of this?” Kristina wanted to know. “Mom!”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. I’m laying out the facts as Diane wrote them in her petition. The history between you and Elizabeth — we can work that in, I suppose. But it’s not going to help very much. The court isn’t going to care that the two of you have been locked in this competition for twenty years.”

“No, they never care about what really matters.” Kristina huffed, turned to Sam. “We’re going to get your kids back. Now that my case is over, I’m going to do whatever I can to help. I won’t let this happen to you without a fight.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Office

Jason rubbed the side of his face, grimacing. “I guess it was too much to hope that we’d get a break,” he told Spinelli, closing the door. “When’s the search?”

“Tomorrow, probably.” Spinelli leaned against the desk, facing his mentor and friend. “They’re going to be looking for the missing bullet — they only recovered three and couldn’t match them. The fourth — if they find it undamaged, they’ll be able to match it.”

“Because of course they will,” Jason muttered, pacing to the end of the office, then turning back to Spinelli. “And there’s nothing we can do to stop any of this.”

“Not legally. Not yet. Not before the dismissal hearing,” Spinelli admitted. “Everything Diane has will help at trial. Michael came by a little while ago to talk about his alibi. Everything Caldwell did to investigate — he tried to break your alibi. He went after your kids. He never talked to Michael or any of the other witnesses who saw Elizabeth leave with him. They didn’t care about breaking her alibi—”

“Because they know she didn’t do it,” Jason cut in sharply, then exhaled. “I’m sorry. I’m not frustrated with you—I know you’re doing everything you can, and I know we have to stay inside the lines on this, but damn it—the Feds are going after her to get to me.”

“I know, but it’s not going to work — because you didn’t do this—”

“No, but they don’t give a damn. They don’t care that they’re destroying Elizabeth’s life to get to me.” He stared at the window that looked out over the warehouse floor, though there was no view with the blinds drawn. “It’s always been that way. Someone using her, hurting her, to get to me. From the day we met.  Nothing I’ve ever done can stop it.”

“Well, no, because despite what you think, Stone Cold, you don’t control the world.”

Jason scowled, turned to face the younger man. “What?”

Spinelli didn’t even flinch at the fury in Jason’s voice. “I used to think you were right, you know. When you told me all the reasons you couldn’t be with Little Stone Cold and Fair Elizabeth. I thought you were the smartest man I knew, and that you were doing the right thing, even though you were clearly miserable.”

“Spinelli—”

“Then I became a father myself and Maxie nearly talked me out of keeping our daughter,” Spinelli continued, and Jason closed his mouth. “It’s complicated, and we don’t really have time for the backstory, but I remembered you and how much I believed you when you said mothers have that right. That they go through the hell of pregnancy and labor, and that gives them some special power. And then Maxie wanted me to give up Georgie because she was trying to be noble—and I realized it was bullshit. Sure, moms are amazing, and there’s money in the world you could pay me to do what they do. But I got to hold my little girl, and I knew that you were wrong. That she was wrong. The world is dumb, and it’s awful, and sometimes it’s evil. You kept trying to leave your family to protect them.” Spinelli straightened. “You were an idiot not to realize the best way to protect them was to be right next to them.”

Jason was quiet for a beat, then nodded. “I know that—”

“No, you don’t. Obviously. Because you still thought it was a good idea to let everyone think you were dead for over two years.”

Jason looked away, scrubbed a hand through his hair. “No, but once I made that decision, I should have seen it through. I should have done all of it better. Should have stayed off the radar after Dante got shot. And blowing the whole thing by letting Anna tip off Valentin—if I hadn’t done that, none of this would be happening. Cates would have his guy, and he might have gone away—”

“You’re still an idiot.”

Jason closed his mouth, furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Arresting Pikeman was never your job. Yeah, you were an idiot to let Anna Devane talk you into giving Valentin a chance to flee. But you did what you said you were gonna do. You gave up your life and your freedom to get that name. You gave it to Cates. It was never your job to finish.” Spinelli lifted his brows. “And now the FBI is taking their incompetence out on you. They think you killed Cates to get rid of him. But they don’t know you. Because if they did, they’d know you’d never involve Elizabeth with a gun in her car.” Spinelli stopped. “Listen, I get you’re frustrated. I am, too. Because I want this to be over. I want you and Fair Elizabeth to ride off into the sunset like you should have decades ago. But you better stop planning that I think you’re planning.”

Jason folded his arms. “And what’s that?”

“Turning yourself in to get the target off Elizabeth’s back.” When Jason looked away, Spinelli nodded. “You know that would be a mistake.”

“I’m not letting her go to jail. That’s not an option—”

“I’m going to find out what happened,” Spinelli promised. “I’ll find the answers, and I’ll find them the right way. Diane’s right. We need to do this by the book.”

“I’m not saying I’d do it tomorrow,” Jason said slowly, “but—”

“But nothing. Trust me. Have I ever you down?” Spinelli wanted to know.

“No. No. And I do trust you—I just—” Jason sat down in the wooden chair in front of the desk, stared at the floor. “You didn’t see Jake and Aiden when Elizabeth was in jail. Or talk to Cameron on the phone. They need her—”

“And they have her. We got her out of there, didn’t we? Because we played the right cards. Let’s keep doing it, Stone Cold. The Jackal is on the case, and I’m not giving up until it’s over.”

+40

Written in 63 minutes.

Monday, September 23, 2024

Penthouse: Living Room

Sam was curled up in an armchair when he finally came home that afternoon. She didn’t get up or even look at him when he came through the door or when he dropped his keys on the desk with plink of metal hitting the ceramic dish next to the phone.

They stood there for a long moment, the silence suffocating the oxygen in the air. The room felt small, the walls closer and closer. When had it changed? Dante wondered. When had they changed? When had they lost sight of each other and the life they’d built together?

He crossed to the other chair, sitting across from Sam, sat on the arm, every muscle in his body tensed — for flight or fight, he didn’t know. Just that he wanted to be ready for whatever came next.

“I’m not fighting tomorrow,” Sam said finally, her voice sounding dull, almost rusted. Huskier than normal. She lifted her tired dark eyes to his. “At the hearing. Mom made it pretty clear that any chance I had to win was over on Saturday.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? You told me.” Sam let her legs drop to the ground, but she kept her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. “You told me I had to get my head on straight, that I had to stop creating problems for myself. Starting fights with Jason, going after Elizabeth—” She closed her eyes. “Doesn’t matter that I’m right, does it? That Jason had no right to come back after two years and get angry with me because I was trying to protect Danny. Or that Elizabeth’s doing everything she can to steal my son.”

“Sam—”

“Doesn’t matter that I’m right. The court doesn’t care about the truth.” She exhaled slowly, opened her eyes and met his gaze. “Mom said if I don’t fight it, if I accept anger management, maybe I get them back by Christmas.”

“Your mom’s always had your back, Sam. If that’s what she’s saying—” Dante paused. “I know this is gonna feel like I’m piling on, and I don’t want it to be like that. But Rocco—”

“She told me. There was a fight at school.” She got to her feet, crossed to the terrace and watched the rain cascading down the glass. “Danny and Rocco. I think Jake got involved?”

“Tried to break it up. But Rocco—he’s got—I didn’t know he…I didn’t know he was unhappy here.”

“Neither of us saw it,” Sam murmured. “Both the boys hid so much of what they were thinking. Feeling. We were patting ourselves on the back for how perfect our family was. How very Brady Bunch we were. And the boys were miserable. No matter how much I want to blame Jason for coming home — Danny was drinking before that.” She looked at him, and the distance between them felt like a thousand feet. “They both were.”

“I don’t know how to fix it except it’s…a choice. Rocco can’t—he doesn’t want to be here. Maybe he’s more messed up about his mom than I thought. But I can’t—I can’t force him to live here when he hates it. And I don’t want to be separated—”

“You’ve got to put him first,” Sam finished. She exhaled in a slow breath. “Yeah.”

Dante crossed to her now, stepping behind her and drew her back against him. She relaxed into his embrace, and he kissed the side of her head. “I love you. I know it hasn’t been easy, but that hasn’t changed.”

“I love you, too,” she murmured.

“But—”

“But right now you have to put Rocco first.” She turned in his arms, stroked her hands down his biceps to his elbows, then back up. “And I have to put everything into getting my kids back where they belong.”

“You know, whatever I can do to make that happen—”

“I know.”

He kissed her forehead, and she tightened her grip on his shoulders, neither one wanting to let go — and both knowing they had no other choice.

Silver Water: Hallway

Rocco trudged down the hallway behind his grandmother, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his eye throbbing like a motherfucker.

“I don’t know why we have to come here,” Rocco muttered as they approached his mother’s room, where Laura turned to face her grandson. “You think you’re gonna tell my mother what an asshole I am, and she’ll rise from the dead?”

“I think,” Laura said, tilting her head, “that you’d be surprised what gets through. I spent years locked in a catatonic state, did you know that?”

He jerked a shoulder. He’d heard something about that, but had never really dug into it.

“In fact, I missed most of your mother’s teen years. Just like she’s missing yours. Oh, it breaks my heart,” Laura murmured, and Rocco looked at her, feeling a bit ashamed of himself now for being so irritated by this visit. “She’s missed so much time with you and your sister, and it’s an ache, a guilt that you never let go. I’ve never forgiven myself for not being there when my babies needed me.”

“You woke up,” Rocco muttered, looking down at the floor, concentrating on the lines of tile. “But she’s not going to.”

“The doctors said that about me, you know. That I’d be locked away forever. But I wasn’t. Lulu came to see me, and she needed me, and I found the strength to come back.” Laura touched her grandson’s shoulder. “I’m not saying it’ll work for you. That if you just keep asking, she’ll wake up. But I am asking to find a way to make peace with the situation as it is. You know that if she could be here, she would. She never, ever wanted to be without you.”

He bit down hard on his lip when it trembled. “I have made peace with it—”

“Have you? Or have you ignored it? Hid it down deep, found ways to make it go away until you couldn’t ignore it anymore?” Laura pushed the door open, and Rocco reluctantly looked inside. At the hospital bed, with the machines beeping, and the woman laying prone in the bed.

Four years since the explosion at the Floating Rib. Four years since she’d gone out, leaving him at home. He didn’t even know if he’d said goodbye or hugged her. Probably not. He’d probably thought it was cringe.

“You don’t come to see her very much, do you?” His grandmother asked softly, and Rocco shook his head.

“There’s no point. She can’t even hear me,” Rocco managed, but he took a few steps inside the room. His mother’s long blonde hair was neatly brushed, laying in golden waves around her head. Her face was clean, but lax from someone who was sleeping but not really.

Her hands were folded over her abdomen, the way a body would be posed in a coffin, he thought. And that was all she was, wasn’t it? A living corpse with nothing inside?

“Your mother loves you so much, Rocco. It’s hard to remember that right now,” Laura said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But she wanted to be a mother so badly, and she went through such hell to make it happen. Maybe one day, I’ll tell you more. But she’d always tell me it was worth it just to have you in her life. With your sweet smile, and your daddy’s eyes. Your Spencer impulsiveness, your Falconieri temper. She used to worry about that combination, and I’d always tell her—I’d tell her that we’d be here to make sure you didn’t take any wrong turns. That we’d love you so much you’d never need to be angry at the world.”

He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t. His mom had always said he didn’t think before he spoke, that it would get him in trouble, but she’d usually laugh and promise to tell him all the stories about how they were exactly like. But she’d never get to tell him those stories now, would she?

“I came to see her last year,” Rocco said suddenly, surprising himself and his grandmother. “It was three years. I thought three years was long enough, and I came here, and I told her she needed to wake up because this was just stupid because if she wasn’t going to wake up, then maybe she should die already because then at least it’d be over.”

He heard his grandmother draw in an unsteady breath, but Laura didn’t say anything, so Rocco kept talking. “And then I heard myself, you know. I realized I was wishing my mother was dead, so I left and I went to a party, and when someone gave me a beer, I drank the whole thing and I forgot that I said it. And I felt better.” Now he looked at Laura. “So I kept drinking. And when that stopped working, I started getting high. And then doing both. And that worked. Because I wish my mother was here, and she’s not. She’s not dead, but she might as well be because this? Being stuck in between, not living but breathing? It’s stupid and I hate her for not dying, I hate you for keeping her alive, and I hate my dad for leaving and if he’d never left, she’d never have been out on a date with that guy. I hate myself for feeling that way. So I make sure I don’t think about it.”

He shrugged off Laura’s hand, and stalked out of the room, promising himself he’d never go back.

Webber House: Living Room

“I’m home,” Elizabeth called, looping her purse over a hook by the door and tossing her keys in the dish on the table.

She went to the kitchen, then leaned against doorframe, folding her arms and smirking. “I’m never going to get used to this.”

Jason, stirring something in a pot at the stove, turned to look at her, lifting his brows in question. He reached for the dishtowel over his shoulder to wipe his hands. “What?”

“You, in my kitchen. Being domestic.” She crossed the room to slide her arms around his waist and lifting her face for a kiss. “Or that,” she murmured against his lips.

“You know I can cook.” He rested his hands at her hips.

“Oh, I definitely remember that.” Elizabeth drew back slightly so that their eyes met. “The omelette you made me after—well, after we made Jake,” she teased, and he grinned. “You swore me to secrecy.”

“I think we’ve kept too many secrets,” he replied, and she sighed, letting her head fall against his chest. He kissed her hair, then stroked her back. “You worked all day, I didn’t. Why shouldn’t I make dinner?”

“I have no idea.” She kissed him again, then went to the fridge to get a bottle of water. “Where are the boys?”

“Jake and Danny are grounded in their rooms for the night. I told them we’d come up with the rest of their punishment later,” Jason added. “And Aiden’s in his room by choice. I think he said something about a cooking show he wanted to watch.”

“I’m still getting used to this stage of parenting,” Elizabeth said, sliding onto the stool at the island. “Where they’re in the house, but I don’t have to chase after them.” She played with the cap on her water. “Sometimes I miss when they were little, and I couldn’t let them out of my sight. Back when they had problems I could solve in a minute or less.”

“I wish I hadn’t missed all of that time,” Jason admitted. “Missing Jake — and Danny’s—childhoods—it’s a regret I’m going to carry with me.”

“But you’re here now, and that’s going to matter. I promise you. Carly didn’t find Bobbie until she was older than Jake and Danny, and you know that didn’t stop them from being close.” She bit her lip. “Did you talk to them at all? Because I’m still not sure what to do with them after today. What could have gotten into them? Danny throwing punches, Jake mouthing off to his principal? Every time I think they’ve got an ounce of common sense—” She made a face.

“Yeah, I talked to them. I…told them about my accident. About after. How learning how to control my impulses was important. And that sometimes, it was more effective to not let someone know they were pissing you off.” Jason grimaced. “I think it got through to them, but like you said — every time it feels like we’ve made some progress—”

“Two steps forward, eight steps back,” she finished, and he nodded. “You should give them lessons on how you used to make Taggert lose his temper all the time. You’d just stare at him with that blank face—oh, he’d make me so mad,” Elizabeth muttered. “He talked to you like you were garbage, defective, and you’d just have that stone face, and I’d always ruin it for you—” She stopped. “I think we know where Jake gets some of his mouth from.”

“He never bothered me until he started going after you,” Jason told her. He came around, tugged her to her feet. “And then Taggert realized that I’d take whatever he threw at me about me—but going after you—” He stroked her arms. “Jake gets it from both of us.”

Elizabeth smiled wistfully. “Sometimes I think about that girl, you know? Who I used to be, who you used to be, and I imagine going back in time and telling her how the story ends. Can you imagine telling those versions of us that one day we’d be talking about our son and which of our worst traits he inherited?” She laughed.

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’d be that surprising,” Jason said, and Elizabeth looked at him, surprised. “Not to me. I knew how I felt about you.”

“I thought maybe I was reading the signals wrong,” she said softly. “We were so young, and I didn’t know how to trust what I was feeling, much less that it was even possible you might feel the same way. Maybe you’re right. Maybe where we ended up wouldn’t be such a surprise.”

“I like where we are,” he said, kissing her forehead. She lifted her head, the way she’d wanted to on that long ago day in January and kissed him.

“Diane called,” she said, and he sighed, stroking her back again. “She expects the injunction to be lifted any day now. The FBI will be searching the Quartermaines again. The motion to dismiss is next week.”

“I know.”

“If it’s okay, maybe we don’t talk about it unless we have to. I want to pretend, just a little while longer, that the only thing we have to worry about is our teen-aged boys making stupid decisions.”

“It’s going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Jason told her, and she sighed. “I promise.”

She didn’t respond — what could she say? It wasn’t in his power to do anything about the situation. If it was, it would have already been over.

All she could do was hold on to the precious little normal they’d managed to carve out and hope for the best.

+43

Written in 52 minutes. There were supposed to be two more scenes, and I probably could have written one more — but I didn’t want to be left with one scene for this day because then I either cut it or have to come up with more scenes to pad out the next part. This way, I just need, like, one more scene instead of 2-4. ANYWAY. See you tomorrow.

Monday, September 23, 2024

Penthouse: Living Room

“You don’t look like you have bad news,” Sam said, stepping back to allow her mother entrance into the penthouse. “Is the custody case or Kristina’s hearing tomorrow?”

Alexis set her briefcase on the desk, then turned to look at her daughter. “Danny was in a fight in school today.”

Sam jolted, shook her head. “No, that’s not—no one called me—” She looked at the landline, then at her mother. “Diane’s very thorough, isn’t she? As soon as Jason got that custody order, she made sure the school knew. That’s why they didn’t call me—”

“Yes, but honey, Diane’s required to do that notification. I know you don’t like this—”

“Gee, Mom, am I supposed to be happy that my two loser ex-husbands are using this opportunity to pretend they’re some kind of perfect fathers?” Sam demanded. She stalked past Alexis, returning to the sofa and coffee table where she picked up a glass of water, took a sip. “How bad was the fight?”

“Bumps and bruises, Diane said. No real injuries. Sam, Danny started the fight, and it was with Rocco.”

“Rocco—” Sam set the glass back down on the table with a thud. “That can’t be. They’re best friends—”

“Not right now. Rocco’s angry that Danny gave up his location on Friday, and I guess it just went from there—Sam, if it had been anyone but Rocco, we might have been able to use this to our advantage on Wednesday. If Danny’s still acting out, still getting into trouble when he’s with Jason, then Diane can’t argue your home is a danger — and you’ve signed the consent form so we’d be in clear.”

“But it was with Rocco. And it doesn’t matter that Rocco’s not here right now.” Sam sank onto the sofa, clasped her hands together, resting her elbows on her thighs. “I can just see it now. My home is dangerously unstable because Rocco had weed on the premises, and now he and Danny are violently arguing.”

“When you add that together with Saturday—” Alexis perched on the edge of the armchair. “Sam, it’s my job to make sure you’re prepared for this hearing. Based on this fact pattern, there’s a more than good chance that the custody order will be made permanent, that you’ll be ordered to attend anger management, with Danny to continue in therapy.”

Sam pressed her clasped hands against her forehead, squeezing her eyes closed. “And visitation?”

“Supervised. Whether we can get the court to allow Jason to choose the supervision or they order family services—I don’t think Jason’s doing this to hurt you—”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t see him on Saturday. He’s decided our entire relationship was a mistake, and Christ, he’s right. From the start. Just one massive mistake with Danny the only good that ever came of it.”

“Sam—”

“Supervised visitation. Anger management. For how long? How long can he keep my son from me?”

“We can ask them to reconsider in six weeks, but it’ll be more likely three months. It depends on if Diane will add parental alienation to the petition or bring it up.”

“Parental—” Sam’s head snapped up, and she scowled. “Are you kidding me?”

“Sam—”

“Because  he came back from the dead—a choice  he made to let his boys think he was dead—and I didn’t immediately let Danny move in with him, I’m going to take the heat for that? That’s bullshit, Mom, bullshit.”

“I agree. But the official story is that Jason was working undercover for the FBI. You’re not going to get very far with that. And I wouldn’t recommend pushing Diane on this. We both know she has an opposition file on you dating back decades.”

“So this is what it’s come to. After fifteen years of taking care of Danny almost entirely on my own, they’re going to pretend I’m a bad mother because he drank and got high on my watch, and I slugged the woman trying to take my place. This is bullshit, Mom. You have to fight this—”

“And we will. But, honey, the facts are not on our side. I told you last week — if you forced Jason to go to the courts to get the consent to treat on therapy, it was going to start a fight we could not win.”

“That’s your answer?’ Sam demanded, shooting to her feet. “‘I told you so?'”

“In this case? Yes. I did. I warned you. And you decided to play with fire. Are you ready to take my advice this time or are we going to have this conversation again in a few months?”

Sam scrubbed her hands down her face. “What’s the advice?”

“Agree to anger management. Agree to supervised visitation with a custodian that Jason chooses. Don’t fight either order, and maybe we’ll get this back on the docket before the holidays.”

“And for Drew? I’m supposed to just let him waltz in here and take my daughter? Mom.”

“I lost custody of Kristina for almost the entirety of her first year,” Alexis said. “I won’t pretend not to understand how terrible this is. But we are where we are, Sam. Drew’s custody situation hearing will likely go the same way.”

Sam didn’t answer right away, just looked at her mother for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. “All right. Fine. Fine. It can’t get much worse than this.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. I am—”

“I know. It’s not like I haven’t had to deal with the consequences of my actions before,” Sam muttered. “You told me to stop going after Shiloh, and I lost them for six months. At least I won’t be in prison this time.”

“See? You’re already talking sense.” Alexis put an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, kissed the top of her head, hugging her lightly. “Tell you what. Get your mind off of all this. Kristina and I are going to Syracuse for her dismissal hearing. Come with us.”

“All right. It’ll be nice to see someone win for a change.”

General Hospital: Locker Room

Elizabeth closed her locker, then let out a startled gasp when Willow was revealed to be standing right behind her. “You scared the crap out of me.” She dropped onto the bench to tie her sneakers. “Done for the day?”

“I have a few more hours, but I saw that you were clocking out and I wanted to talk to you for a minute.” Willow dipped her fingertips into the pockets in her scrub top. “I was wondering if you could tell me what happened on Saturday. With you and Sam.”

Elizabeth jerked her head up to meet the younger woman’s gaze. “What?”

“If you were trying to keep it quiet, it didn’t work. Rocco told Laura, and she came over to talk to Monica — and Monica and Tracy were—”

“I get it.” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then released a huff of air. “What version did you end up with?”

“That you were at the penthouse, and Sam didn’t want you there so she hit you.”

“Not—” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Not entirely what happened.” She squinted. “You asking out of curiosity or looking for intel to slip to Drew?”

“Does it matter?”

“A little bit. I’m not interested in helping Drew’s bogus custody case—” Elizabeth got to her feet, sliding her purse over her shoulder.

“Is it so bogus?” Willow called, stopping Elizabeth from turning away towards the door. “Maybe Drew started this because of the campaign and the optics. Fine. But can you honestly that say that little girl should be in that household right now?”

Elizabeth bit her lip, dropped her gaze, then sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t,” she insisted when Willow scoffed. “It’s different. I was with Danny in the lobby, and Sam and I have a very long, very bad history with each other. I think if I’d been anyone else, she wouldn’t have started that fight—”

“So she started it.”

“Technically, I guess. But I went there, didn’t I? I stayed in the lobby, and I told myself that if Danny went upstairs alone, then it wasn’t a problem. But I knew Sam didn’t want me anywhere near the penthouse. Or her son. I already knew she thought I was trying to—I don’t know—take her place as Danny’s mother. I’m not, but I knew she was insecure and angry.”

“And she didn’t care Danny was there. Or that Danny cares about you,” Willow challenged. “Because she’s possessive about Danny. You don’t think she’d be just the same way with Scout?’

“I don’t know.”

“I know you don’t like Drew, and that’s fine. But if Danny shouldn’t be there, why should an eight-year-old have to be in the middle of all that? I’m just asking — if Drew wanted you to be a witness for his case—”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “If he forced me to come in, I would testify honestly, Willow. That’s all I can promise. But I’m asking him not to do that. Jason’s hearing is first. He’s asking for full custody with supervised visitation and anger management, with an option to revisit the situation in two months. If he gets any of that, Drew’s case gets easier, doesn’t it? He could get the same deal as Jason. The kids love their mother. They’re supposed to come first. Jason gets that. I don’t know if Drew does.”

Webber House: Kitchen

Danny slunk into the kitchen where his father was putting a pot of water on to boil. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, sliding onto the stool and staring down at the counter top.

“For what?” Jason asked.

“For you know—” Danny gestured at his face. “Breaking Rocco’s face or whatever. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Looks like we had the same idea,” Jake said, slipping onto the next stool. “Mom seemed pretty steamed at me, and I’m guessing you’re not happy either.”

“You’re applying for colleges, Jake. Do you think getting suspended helps?” Jason wanted to know.

Jake made a face. “Since when do you know or care about any of that?”

His father scowled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t? You wanted to go to that program in Spain. Your mom and I have talked about it. I remember Cameron applying to schools—she was worried when he got into trouble for the weed that it might screw things up. You think I can’t care about things that aren’t important to you because I never went to college?”

“Well, you did,” Danny said, and Jason looked at him. “You just don’t remember it, but Grandma showed pictures and stuff. You were in medical school when the accident happened.”

“Yeah, and Mom told me about that time you sliced Uncle Nikolas’s neck open so he could breathe, so you know stuff.” Jake paused. “And you’re right. I need a clean record, and I messed up today. Mr. Bryan just ticks me off, and you know, I don’t think.”

“Well, you need to. Both of you do.” Jason folded his arms, leaned back against the counter. “Look, you know about my accident. When I woke up, I had a vicious temper and zero ability to control it. I didn’t think about how harsh some of the things I said were because I figured they were the truth. I said what I wanted when I wanted to who I wanted. And I punched anyone who I thought had it coming.”

Jake folded his arms, leaned forward. “I know. Mom always tells me that not every situation requires my opinion, and sure, she’s right, but it’s not fun to always keep my mouth closed.”

“And some people do need punching,” Danny muttered. “Especially when they don’t keep their mouth closed.”

“Here’s something I had to learn — people are always going to bait you. You said Rocco wouldn’t shut up about your mom, and I get defending her. Even when things aren’t great right now, she’s still your mom. And if you’d gone to a park or a backyard and slugged him, I’d shrug and tell Rocco to suck it up,” Jason said. “But you weren’t in the park. You were at school. Where there’s a different discipline code. Rocco wanted attention, and he probably wanted you in as much trouble as he’s in. And guess what?”

“Shit.” Danny made a face. “He won, didn’t he? God damn it.”

“People want a reaction from you. They want to see you lose your cool,”  Jason continued. “I thought it was satisfying to give them what they wanted. And it was.”

“In the moment,” Danny said. “Liz said something about that, you know. When she and Mom had their fight — Liz said the fight felt good, but all the stuff that came after — it wasn’t worth it, I guess.”

“Exactly. Yeah, Rocco opened his mouth and disrespected your mother. But you gave  him what he wanted. How much more crazy would he have been if you’d just ignored him? Gotten him worked up and annoyed? Maybe he throws the first punch,” Jason said, and Jake grinned.

“Bait him into making it self-defense. Diabolical.”

“I like that better,” Danny agreed.

“Or don’t give him what he wants and he goes away. Stops trying. Because he knows he can’t get to you. You can’t control other people,” Jason told them. “They’re gonna do what they’re gonna do. But you can and should be able to control yourself. That’s what I expect from both of you. Especially when it comes to school. You were  both raised better than that.”

“I guess that’s fair.” Danny touched his bruised eye slightly. “And that really works? Not giving in?”

“Most of the time.”

“What do you do when it doesn’t?” Jake wanted to know.

“Nice try,” Jason said dryly. “Go do your homework.”

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