Written in 19 minutes. No time for typos.

Jason stared at Elizabeth for a long time before looking down at the envelope she’d placed in his hands.

They had stood here in late August, in the same positions—she looking at him with sober, sad eyes, holding out a stark white envelope with General Hospital’s logo and Patrick’s Drake name scribbled across the front.

She was still looking at him with sober, sad eyes and he realized, even before he had opened the results—before he had confirmed that her words were true—that she was expecting the same outcome as she had three months ago.

That Jason would rush off to tell Sam, bring home her son, and reunite, saving their marriage, and getting a fresh start.

Jason exhaled slowly, drew out the folded paper, and read it. He furrowed his brow slightly at the notification a few tests—he’d look at that more carefully in a minute, but—

Sam’s son was alive. At least, according to this test, he was.

“Why didn’t you tell me you thought Brad Cooper was lying to you?” Jason said. He folded it again, slid it back into the envelope, and tucked it inside his jacket. “Why did you go to Spinelli?”

“Because I wanted to be wrong,” Elizabeth admitted. She folded her arms, tightly, as if she could hold herself together. “And I’m terrible for that. Terrible for hoping that Sam’s son stayed dead. I have to live with myself, knowing that I feel that way—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I just—” Elizabeth’s eyes squeezed shut as she turned away from him, looked out over the skyline of Port Charles. “I can’t stop hating myself. I almost—” She sucked in the breath. “I was going to wait. Until the end of my shift. To keep putting it off. I’m no better than Sam was when she kept the truth about Jake—”

“Elizabeth, how long did you have these results?” Jason asked. He put a hand on her shoulder, turned her back to face him. “An hour? Two?”

“Ten minutes,” she said with a wince. “But I thought it—”

“And I thought about strangling Lucky Spencer every time he puts his hands on you or Jake,” Jason said in a low voice. “I didn’t do it. You didn’t lie to me, Elizabeth. And you didn’t let anyone walk away from Danny. You didn’t watch whatever happened—you didn’t see it happen.”

He paused. “And this isn’t August,” Jason continued. “Things are different now—”

“Jason—”

“I can’t tell you what would have happened if we’d…if we’d learned this back then,” Jason said slowly. “I can only tell you what changes today. And it’s nothing.”

She met his eyes, frowning slightly. “I—”

“I mean, we’ll take this to Sam, and let her handle it. And then I’ll go deal with Tracy because she had no right to do this—” Jason squinted. “And was there another test in there that compared my DNA to Franco’s?”

“Uh—” Elizabeth scratched her temple. “Yeah. Um, I guess Tracy wanted—you’re not Franco’s brother. I mean—DNA wise, there’s no blood—”

And that was a relief—a weight off his shoulders. “Okay. But that’s all that changes.”

“I—”

“I love you,” he told her quietly. “But I understand that you don’t trust that.”

“It’s not that I don’t—” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, bit down. “It’s not that I don’t trust you—”

“You don’t trust me to stay,” Jason told her, with a shake of his head. “And that’s because I didn’t. When it mattered. It matters now. You did this, even worried that it meant I’d leave you. And that means—” He took out the test again. Really thought about the risk she’d taken—believed she’d been taking.

“I hope it means part of you does trust me,” Jason added, “but it also reminds me that I can trust you. To always be honest. Even when it might hurt us both. And that’s—” He hesitated. “That’s not something we’ve always shared.”

“No, I guess that’s true.” Elizabeth’s smile was tentative. “So—I mean—”

He leaned down, brushed her lips with his. “Nothing has changed for me. I love you. And I love the life we’re building together. I’m glad I get to tell Sam her son is alive, but I want to do that with you. She should know that you were part of it.”

“I can probably get Epiphany to cover the rest of my shift,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’d—I’d like to be there when Sam finds out.” She stood on the tips of her toes, kissed him. “I love you, too.”

——

Jason called Sam and asked her to meet him in the park — on neutral ground. Sam had seemed confused with the call, but he told her that he and Elizabeth wanted to talk to her about something.

He’d heard the pain in her voice as she asked him if he was telling her they were getting married. He assured her that it wasn’t the case, and she agreed.

Still — Jason wasn’t entirely unsurprised when Sam walked into the park with John McBain at her side.

Sam never liked to walk into any battle outnumbered—and everything was a battle to her.

“Jason—” Sam looked at Elizabeth, standing at his side. “What’s going on?”

“A few months ago, I met Tea Delgado’s son,” Jason told her. “And I got suspicious because her son was born the same night as yours—”

“Jason—”

“And there were other reasons,” he continued, “that I won’t get into right now, but I told Elizabeth about my theory. She arranged a DNA test.” He looked at Elizabeth.

“The first test came back negative,” Elizabeth told Sam, “but the lab tech who ran it was nearly fired due to budget cuts. Budget cuts that were solved by a donation from ELQ—from Tracy Quartermaine—”

Sam closed her eyes, her face pale, her hands shaking as she put them up. “What are you saying—”

“I was worried the tech had lied to me,” Elizabeth said. “So I asked Spinelli if he could track down the original test.”

She held out the envelope. “And the original test confirmed Jason’s theory. Tea Delgado’s son is Danny. She’s raising him in Llanview, but he’s—”

Sam gasped, choking on a sob. “What—What? Are you—”

“Danny is alive, Sam. Your son is alive.”

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