Written in 55 minutes. I meant to have a second scene but this first one just took time to get right, but I’m happy with how it came out.

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Dear reader
The greatest of luxuries is your secrets

The moment Jake learned that his father was still alive was burned in his brain, doomed to repeat itself on a loop, to be etched forever as a symbol of the fucked up relationship he’d had with his father since the day he’d returned from Greece.

He’d been lounging on his bed, switching back and forth between Snapchat and Tiktok, plotting how to sneak out with friends that weekend, endlessly scrolling instead of rolling over and going to sleep. Then he’d gotten an alert, a 911 text from a friend whose father worked at the PCPD.

yo dude they put out a apb on ur dad thats hella weird aint he dead

Jake had jerked straight up, his blood running cold, reading the words over and over again. He’d wanted it to be a lie. He’d tried everything.

hes dead dickwad april fools is for kids im gonna kick ur ass when i see u

There was no such thing as silence, not truly. He’d sat in that room, not speaking, not moving, but he was suddenly aware of every single sound. The creak of the steps when his brother sprinted down them, the wind from his open window, the cars pulling to a stop at the traffic light a block away, the squeal of brakes from those who waited too long—

no cap dude look its all over news turn on tv

His friend had attached the screenshot of an article from the Port Charles Sun website — COP SHOT BY MOBSTER BACK FROM THE DEAD!

Below the headline he found his father. They’d used one of his many mugshots and Jake had stared at that image — it was from his arrest the year he’d died. When the PCPD thought he’d murdered Franco. Everyone thought it — Cameron, Aiden, everyone at school — even his mother, who was careful not to say and had always defended Jason, harbored doubts.

But Jake never had. His dad was a complicated guy who’d done some crimes, sure. But cold-blooded murder? Of Jake’s stepfather?  No fucking way. And Jake had been right. Jason had been exonerated, and the world had gone back to normal for a while.

Until the tunnels in Greece had stolen his father away for good this time. He’d died trying to help someone, his mother had said, fighting back tears. It was a devastating loss for them all, Jake knew. Jason was more than just his dad, he was Mom’s best friend, and always had been.

Jake stared at the image for a long moment, then went back to the messages.

its a mistake my dad is dead theyre wrong

idk theres a vid ill try to find out more maybe its good news its cool if he came back right don’t u want ur dad to be alive?

Desperately.

He’d never answered his friend, had tossed the phone aside, and gone for the television downstairs, only to find Aiden already glued to the screen, and by the time his mother had called from the hospital, Jake knew it was true.

His dad was alive. He was wanted for trying to kill Dante. But this time Jake couldn’t believe in his dad. How could he?

His dad had pretended to be dead for over two years. If he could do that — if he could fake his death and run away from all of them, then maybe Jake had never known him at all.

It didn’t matter that his father was exonerated of that, too. Or that he’d showed up looking older and more worn — more tired — but still looking like his dad. It didn’t matter that he said all the right things or that his mother very carefully tried to support Jake while defending Jason —

None of that mattered.

Because there’d been that moment, that awful moment, and Jake couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t ignore it. He tried for his mother, he tried for his brother, he tried for himself, and he thought he’d managed it. His dad paid for school, went with him to the airport, and they’d talked a few times on the phone — but never for long. And nothing more than a check in.

Because Jake couldn’t stop remembering that night, sitting in his room, the horrible, awful feeling that his father had left them. Left him.

And it was that anger that had exploded today, that anger that fueled Jake as he drove away from his mother’s house, driving aimlessly after dropping Aiden off at his boyfriend’s.

When he found himself near Kelly’s, his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he’d skipped breakfast and lunch. Jake pulled into the parking lot, hoping he could duck in and out without running into anyone.

He scanned the inside of the diner from the courtyard, but he’d missed Michael sitting in the back corner with his daughter. His cousin lifted a hand in greeting, and Jake sighed, knowing he couldn’t walk away. He scanned his memory for the kid’s name — Amy or something — and headed back.

“This is a nice surprise.” Michael rose and hugged Jake lightly. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was in a sad way, Jake thought, not a lying way. “We haven’t ordered yet, so you can join us.” He tilted his head. “Unless you’re in a hurry.”

To go back home? Not a chance. “Nah. This is a good. It’s, uh, nice to see you. I guess. Not—” He winced, dropped into the chair across from his cousin. “That’s not what I meant. I mean—”

“I get it. You’re home for a sad reason, so yeah, I’m glad we can catch up but I wish we couldn’t, you know?”

“Yeah.” Jake released his first easy breath. “Yeah, that’s it.” He picked up the menu, pretended to read it. “Um, how are you? The kids—” He peered over the menu to the toddler who beamed at him.

“Growing up way too fast,” Michael said, dumping a few more puffs on the kid’s little tray. “Amelia will be two in a few months. I don’t really know where the time’s gone, you know? Wiley just turned six.”

“Six,” Jake repeated. He rubbed his temple. “That did happen fast.”

Michael opened his mouth, but the waitress came over before he could say anything. When she’d left, taking their orders with her, he folded his arms on the table, leaned forward. “Are you okay? I mean, I know you’re probably worried about your brother, but I don’t know, you just look—” He wrinkled his nose. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

“Seems to be the theme today,” Jake muttered, then sighed when Michael lifted his brows. “I dunno. I’m still mad at my dad,” he admitted. “And…um, well, your dad came by my house today. I guess you should know that.”

“My dad? Why?” Michael asked suspiciously. “Not that he can’t, but he and your mom aren’t, like, super close.”

“No, clearly. They were arguing — or he was yelling at her—and it all just kind of—” Jake pressed his lips together. “Did you know that my mom lied to my dad about me? I mean, that he was my father?”

Michael’s mouth parted and his eyes widened. “Whoa—oh, man, is that what my dad said? That’s like ancient history. Why would he bring it up?”

Jake reached for a napkin, began to shred it into tiny pieces. “I dunno. Something about my mom being the reason my dad thinks he’s not a good father or some shit like that. I didn’t overhear a lot, because Dad showed up and he was really.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Michael dragged a hand down his cheek. “Oh, man,” he repeated. “I can’t even begin to think why Dad thought that was a good idea, but well, it’s not like he’s had a lot of common sense this year, and I wish like hell I could blame the way Ava screwed with his meds, but I can’t. Parents are exhausting, you know that?”

Jake snorted, feeling the first stirrings of amusement. “Yeah, they definitely are. But you probably win that contest.”

“Oh, definitely. Listen, we could get into the wildness that was that era because I do know some of it,” Michael admitted, “but I gotta tell you, as someone who once learned a whole lot of awful things about my childhood and what went down before I was born, it’s a slippery slope. Because your parents are humans who make giant mistakes, and it’s hard to go back to when they were just…you know, your parents.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Jake reached for his soda, considering Michael’s words. He swirled the straw in his glass. “I always knew Dad was complicated. I mean, even before he came home after the Cassadines took him and that coma thing — I had Drew—” He hesitated when he saw Michael’s mouth tighten, but it was gone so quickly he thought he imagined it. “But Drew was supposed to be Jason Morgan, right? So, like, you can’t grow up and not know. And he was always in and out of trouble. It’s just, like, that always seemed separate. Like that guy was—” Jake gestured. “Out there. And my dad was this other guy.”

“You separate them,” Michael said nodding in agreement. “Because you can’t really make it work in your head how they’re the same guy. I definitely get that, Jake.”

“But I always thought my dad—” Jake paused, took a deep breath. “I always knew he loved me. He was so careful, you know, when he came home. So super cool if I wanted to be around Drew. Just really let me get through how weird it was. But we did get through it.” His throat tightened. “We really got through it, and then he was just my dad, and I could, like, always call him. And my mom, she’s always been the best. I basically thought she was perfect. Even when I knew she wasn’t, she was my mom.”

“And now they both feel like strangers,” Michael said gently.

Jake couldn’t look up, his vision slightly blurred. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been where you are, Jake. It’s not easy. It’s the hardest thing I ever did—confronting who my parents were — and some of the things they did that affected me. It was impossible for a while, actually. I walked away from them both because I couldn’t find a way through my anger. I couldn’t stop being angry.”

“Yeah?” Jake lifted his head. “How’d you fix it?”

“I didn’t. It can’t be fixed. You can’t go back to who you were before. There’s no magic trick. But I can love my mother, I can be in a room with my father. I can be around my parents, and have them in my life. It took time, Jake. But the day is gonna come when you’ll wake up and realize that your parents still love you. That you still love them. And you’re not as angry anymore. At least not at them.”

Jake sighed. “Okay, but what if I just punch someone? Do you think that would help?”

Michael’s lips twitched and he leaned back. “Oh, yeah, that’s your dad talking. You’d feel better for a little while, but you’re an artist, Jake. It’s not worth it.”

“I hate that you’re right. It’s annoying.”

Michael grinned now, the humor reaching his eyes and lighting up his whole face. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what Joss says, too. Being the oldest is a heavy cross to bear, but somehow I manage it gracefully.

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