Written in 60 minutes.

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General Hospital: Hospital Room

The figure stretched out on the hospital bed, skin nearly as pale as the sheets beneath her, head wrapped in gauze, any hint of her honey blonde hair tucked away—the patient barely resembled her daughter, and if not for the rounded belly, Bobbie might think she was in the wrong room.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Bobbie sat down, took Carly’s hand, ignoring how limp it was. “I’m sorry I wasn’t in earlier. I meant to — I sat all night and morning in the waiting room, just ready to pounce as soon as they told me I could be with you. But then this awful tragedy was just compounded, and I knew—” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “I knew that you’d want me to look after Jason. That if you were awake and able, you’d be down at the PCPD, railing against the injustice. So that’s where I’ve been.”

Carly’s face didn’t move. Not even a twitch of her lips. Bobbie swallowed the small bubble of hysteria that rose in the throat, forced it back down. “And Michael — he’s in good hands. You know how he loves Leticia. She’s looking after him. Everything is just fine. You rest, you heal, and we’ll take care of everything else.”

General Hospital: Elizabeth’s Room

Down the hall, Audrey had a cell phone in her hand, using her reading glasses to peer at the small print. “Oh, heavens, I simply will never learn to use these until they make these buttons easier to read.”

“Just find number three,” Elizabeth murmured, turning her head slightly, pressing her cheek against the pillow. “Press down. It’ll make the call.”

“Oh. All right—oh, there we are. If we wait any longer to call Emily, she’ll show up here, and you know that can’t happen—”

“No, not until her immune system has recovered.” With her free hand—with her only hand—Elizabeth retrieved the phone from her grandmother.

“Elizabeth? Oh thank God, I was about to have my parents storm the hospital, because let me tell you, this house is in chaos—between you and Carly, and then this absolutely fuckery—I will—” Emily stopped, and Elizabeth audibly heard her friend take a breath. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? What’s the situation? What can I do? Who can I fight? What do I do? I need you to give me something to do.”

“I’m…okay. Cautiously in stable and good condition. And I know your brother would hate it if your family was involved in this, but if it gets him out of that awful police station—” She closed her eyes, swallowed. “I don’t care. Tell Edward to call a Senator. He always threatens to. I’ll take the blame.”

“Listen, that’s on the menu, believe me. And—Liz, listen, you know that—well, everyone knows. About the baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I gather Jason said something to the paramedics, and well, it didn’t take long. I  can’t be bothered with that right now.”

“Of course not. Plus, we already agreed that this is the best thing that ever happened to all of us, so anyone who doesn’t agree with us can go pound sand for all I care.” There was a pause. “But can you—I mean, is that—are we all systems go on that? Because I know there’s risks after surgery, and with what happened—”

“So far so good. Um, I think—I think the risk was already at eight percent before I woke up, and it falls every day or so as I recover.”

“Good. Good. That’s the best thing. What can I do? Give me something.”

“You can focus on your health. On getting better. So that your niece or nephew has a aunt to spoil them and take their side.”

“Liz—”

“I can’t do anything either, Em. All I want—” She closed her eyes, the tears hot as they slipped past her lashes. “I want to be at the PCPD, screaming at anyone who can listen. I don’t know what they’re thinking or why any of this is happening—I don’t even know what happened—I just know Jason should be here with me.”

“Then we’ll get him back to you. I’ll call Grandfather and unleash the dragon. You’re right, Jason can be mad at us later. The important thing is getting him back to you and my niece or nephew—you know, they call them niblings when you’re talking about a mixed group, so that’s what I’m gonna do until we have a name. You take care of my nibling, and I’ll get the President involved. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Audrey took the phone, closed it, then removed her reading glasses. “Can I get you some more water, or—”

“You can—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, winced as she moved slightly. She looked down at her arm, at the hand she couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel. No. No. Not thinking about that right now. Couldn’t. Jason said he’d find a specialist to fix her, and she believed him. Now was the time to focus on Jason. To put him first. “You can find a doctor. How long do I have to be in the hospital?”

“Elizabeth—”

“I know. I just had major surgery. I’m at risk for a miscarriage, but I hate it here. Ric’s down the hall, I heard the doctors say so. I don’t want to be here, Gram.”

Audrey stroked her hair. “All right. All right. I’ll talk to Tony. I’ll do whatever I have to do. We’ll get medical equipment at the house. You and my great-grandchild are my only priority.”

The tears continued to spill down her cheeks, but Elizabeth didn’t have the energy to wipe them away. “You mentioned the baby. You didn’t before.”

“Well, I learned quite by accident, and then Jason told me you’d only learned about it yourselves. And that you were happy.” Audrey smiled, continued to stroke Elizabeth’s hair away from her forehead. “And when we learned that you’d made it through the surgery, that the risk to the baby was so low, oh, the relief on that man’s face! I remember him, you know, with Michael. He was such a devoted father.”

“You’re not m-mad? D-disappointed?”

“I’m disappointed in myself, my darling. A week ago, I might have thought of the circumstances first, or started another one of our old arguments about Jason. And I’d have been wrong. Very wrong. You are my granddaughter, and there is nothing you have to do to earn or keep my love. It simply exists. You are going to be a wonderful mother, and I want to be here to support you on every step of this journey. What a joyous blessing for us all. Something to look forward to, to plan for this in this dark time.” Audrey kissed her forehead. “Something to fight for. I couldn’t be happier.”

PCPD: Interrogation Room

Courtney. Courtney was the other witness.

He couldn’t wrap his mind around that fact, couldn’t make it real. Courtney, the woman he’d asked to marry him—the woman he’d planned a life with—had turned away a future with Elizabeth for—

—who he convinced himself he loved because she fit in his life, because she understood it—

Courtney was the other witness.

Scott had continued to talk even as Jason’s thoughts had raced in other directions, and now he turned back into the district attorney.

“Like I said, I was pretty sure that Ric was lying about the whole thing. His version didn’t match our preliminary evidence,” Scott continued. He scratched his chin. “Well, it did, and it didn’t, you see? Because we figured Liz and Carly—they were accidents. Or at least, not the primary target. But what I couldn’t make work—what tripped up Mac, too—was that you’d ever open fire with them so close.”

Jason forced his expression to go blank. Couldn’t let Scott know what he was thinking, couldn’t give the man an inch. Maybe Scott was saying he didn’t think Jason had pulled the trigger, but Jason was still in handcuffs. Still under arrest for attempted murder.

No, better to let Scott keep talking and find out exactly what the man thought, what he wanted, and then make any necessary decisions.

“At first, when she showed up with the gun, I thought—well, it can’t matter what I think you’d do. Or what Mac feels about your character. What matters is the evidence. And we had two independent witnesses saying the exact same thing. And you’re known to them, you know? No mistaken identity. Plus, the weapon Courtney had recently been fired, but wiped for prints.”

Courtney had the gun, Jason thought. She’d been at the Towers last night. Max had said as much. When? What time? She could have gone in to see Sonny, found the gun.

“So we take her back here. Get a full statement. But she’s not adding details, you see? Just the same set of facts over and over again. Not adding, not elaborating. And for a while, I thought, well that’s the truth then. Story never changes. Never trips up. But then I watched the video we made. And I watched her repeat that story. And she didn’t have a story so much as she had a trio of facts.”

Scott held out his hand, one finger raised. “One. She was at Kelly’s last night. Two. She saw you shoot Ric, and Liz and Carly were accidentally hit. Three. You gave her the gun to hide and told her to leave. Never deviated. And you know why? Because she’s lying.”

Jason wanted to ask how he was so sure Courtney was lying — normally, sticking to the story was a good thing, especially when she wouldn’t have had time to rehearse. Or talk to Ric— Jason squinted. Unless—

“I think she kept her story limited until she had time and space to think,” Scott continued. “Normally, someone telling the truth? They’ll give you more when you ask for it. Why were you at Kelly’s, I ask. She doesn’t know. Why were Liz and Carly there? She doesn’t know. When did you get there? Where was Bobbie? She won’t answer any of these questions. Tries to act like it’s all a blur except for those three facts. But that’s not how someone tells the truth, Morgan.”

Scott looked away. “But I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t explain why she and Ric were telling the same story without talking to each other, and she wouldn’t have seen him. I was there when he woke up. And no one else came in that room before I talked to Courtney. And Bobbie? I believe her. You, I’d never believe a word you said, I’m just gonna be straight with you.” He twisted in the chair, leaned forward. “But you also would never tell me anything, so  that doesn’t matter. Bobbie? Bobbie’s not going to lie or protect the man who put her daughter in a coma, endangered her grandchild. Who shot Elizabeth and put that baby at risk. She says you were with her in the parking lot when you heard the gunshots. Says there was maybe one minute, two before you got to the courtyard.”

“We parked near the street,” Jason muttered. He dragged a hand down his face. “I always park near the street.”

“For quicker getaways, I’m sure,” Scott said dryly, and Jason shot him a dark look. “Fair enough. You had to cover the entire parking lot, and it’s not a small one. They share it, right? With other businesses on Elm. Right. Anyway. Back to what I was saying. I couldn’t explain her story, Ric’s story, and make it come out with what I know is the truth — Bobbie.”

“It’d be easy to just discard the story, you know? To just say well, Ric hates you because you’re Sonny’s best friend, his chosen brother, and apparently, Ric’s got mommy issues or something. Courtney’s an easy sell. She hates you because you knocked up another woman. But that’s where she made her mistake. That’s where I finally realized why they were telling the same story.”

Jason frowned at him, shook his head slightly. He didn’t follow that.

“Courtney shouldn’t have known that fact. Not yet. Not if you believe the rest of her story. She said she was at the Towers, freaking out, then she went to Carly’s to check on Michael. Mac and Capelli told her the news — she didn’t know that yet. And I’m gonna tell you, Mac was there for both statements — he said she was lying from the beginning. Because he believes her surprise was genuine. Which means — she doesn’t know about the shooting. And if you don’t know about the shooting, you don’t know that the paramedics came into the ER and said the word pregnant a little too loudly. Only a handful of hospital staff would have known. Then. I looked at that list, just to check my thinking. No one Courtney would know. It’s not in the media. Not in the papers. It’s not out there unless you know the players.”

Jason exhaled slowly, looked at the wall, considered Scott’s theory. Learning about the pregnancy could be a trigger, he thought. One to make Courtney angry enough to look for revenge. To make Jason pay.

“And then I remembered who else talked about it in the hospital. Me. Mac, Capelli, and me. We were discussing Ric’s story, and Capelli asked about the pregnancy, and I said you were the father. Then maybe a minute, maybe two later, she rushes up and she’s got the gun. And this story. She overheard that detail, and she changed her mind right then and there. I think she was going to turn in whoever actually did this, Morgan, and decided to pin it on you.”

Scott leaned in. “What do you think about that?”

Jason faced forward, looked down at his hands, still cuffed to the table, then raised his eyes to Scott’s. “If you know they’re lying,” he said flatly, “why am I here?”

“Because I’d like to right a wrong. I’d like to nail Ric, and Courtney’s asses to the wall for obstruction and interfering with an investigation. I’d like to see what I can do about getting some justice for Carly for this summer. I can’t go back and undo what I did. But I can maybe go forward and do better. I need your help. And I needed Ric and Courtney to think I believed them.”

Jason squinted. “Let me get this straight. You know I’m innocent. You want my help. And you thought the best way to get that would be to walk into Elizabeth’s hospital room after she’d been shot and operated on, with the risk of miscarriage on the table, and you put handcuffs on me in front of her. In front of Carly’s mother. That seemed like a good idea to you? Knowing you were going to ask for my help?”

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it. “Okay. I see your point. I wanted a dramatic moment to prove things like I said—”

“You can go to hell. I don’t believe you. I don’t believe this isn’t a trap. So you go out there, you tell Mac that this didn’t work, and then you put me in lockup because I’m not talking to anyone until my lawyer gets here. That’s what I think about that.”

General Hospital: Elizabeth’s Room

Elizabeth rested one hand on her still flat belly, her eyes watching the fetal heartbeat monitor, listening to the steady beat of her child. The child Jason had been so emotional about that it had melted any resistance her grandmother had ever shown towards him.

“He’ll be back,” Elizabeth said. She closed her eyes. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy will be back for both of us. We just have to rest and be patient. He always comes back.”

Brownstone: Foyer

Bobbie dropped her purse on the table next to the door, but in her fatigue, misjudged the placement, and the purse tipped over, spilling its contents across her hardwood floor.

“Damn it.” She knelt down, started to shove it back inside. All she wanted to do was take a shower, to change, and maybe an hour of sleep.

She had just risen to her feet when the doorbell rang. Her purse clutched against her chest with one hand, she opened the door with the other—

And all her fatigue melted away. She grinned brightly. “You came so fast!”

“Well,” Justus Ward said, “you said Jason was in trouble, and I promised him I’d always be there if he called. What’s he gotten himself into into?”

“I barely know where to start, but I am so glad to see you.” She stepped back to let him in. “Let’s get to work.”

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