November 10, 2004

General Hospital: Sam McCall’s Room

Sonny paced and moved to the window. “How could he lie to me?” he muttered.

Sam glanced up from the cheesy talk show she was watching on the television. “Lie? What kind of crack are you on?”

“He has a son that was conceived while he was married to my sister,” Sonny said. He turned and looked at her. “He’s leaving his job to be with Elizabeth.”

“Mm…” Sam took a cup of water from the stand next to her and sipped through a straw. “They were engaged, you’ve said yourself that you didn’t think he was over Elizabeth, and he’s leaving his job because it doesn’t make him happy.”

“And what about him just dropping that on me yesterday and leaving?” Sonny continued, pretending to ignore her words. “Doesn’t he have any respect for me, for our friendship?” Sam arched an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t my fault.”

“You don’t pay a lot of attention to him so I’m going to let that slide.” Sam set aside her water. “Jason has respect for you. Too much, if you ask me. He kept this a secret because he didn’t want to hurt you. And in the end, he hurt Elizabeth. Now, if you ask me, his loyalties are screwed up.”

Sonny sighed. “He should have told me then. He should have avoided all of this. And I’m sorry he didn’t and hurt her. She’s the last person in the world that deserves something like this.” He grimaced. “After what Ric did to her.”

“Well, okay, then we’re on the same page. Look, just because Jason’s leaving the business it doesn’t mean you have to stop being friends. He’ll still be across the hall.” Sam hesitated. “Well, maybe not for long if he works things out with Elizabeth. But he’s still your best friend.”

Sonny frowned. “He hasn’t talked to you about the penthouse yet?”

“He said something stupid about deeding it to me but that’s just his guilt talking.” Sam waved her hand. “That’s his home. It’s not mine. I didn’t work for it and while it’s been nice to live there but I’m done with the handouts.” She let a hand rest on her belly. “It’s just me again. And I know how to take care of myself. I’m going to stay there for a little while longer until I get back on my feet.”

Sonny looked away. “Dr. Quartermaine says you can be released Monday, provided you promise to rest. I thought we could schedule Adella’s viewing for Tuesday.”

Sam bit her lip and stared at her blanket. “That sounds fine. I–I’m glad you don’t blame Jason anymore for this. I think he blames himself more than enough.”

“He shouldn’t.” Troubled, Sonny turned his gaze towards the windows with a view that overlooked the parking garage of General Hospital. “But it’s my fault he feels that way.”

Sam glared at the back of his head. “Between you and Jason, I don’t suppose there’s enough room in this situation for me to feel guilty.”

“Why would you need to feel guilty?” Sonny demanded. He turned. “No one could have prevented this. Monica said as much.”

“That’s true,” Sam allowed. “But you know I had the opportunity to induce the labor. What if I had done that? Would she have lived? Will I ever know for sure? What should I do with that information, huh?”

“This is not your fault,” he said forcefully. He strode towards the bed and jammed a finger in her direction. “I don’t want to hear you saying anything so ridiculous again, do you hear me?”

“Well then don’t let me hear you or Jason blaming yourself either because out of the three of us, I’m the only who had any opportunity to truly prevent this,” Sam said hotly.

Monica Quartermaine pushed the door open and frowned. “Are you arguing with my patient?” she asked Sonny, with a teasing tone.

“He’s being stupid,” Sam muttered. She leaned back. “Hello, Dr. Quartermaine.”

“Sam.” Monica opened her chart. “I just wanted to let you know that your tests came back. I consulted with two other gynecologists and they both agree with me.”

Sam held her breath and glanced at Sonny–these tests would tell her if she would be able to conceive again. Sam had never thought herself the maternal type but the last few months had awakened a yearning inside to give love to another. To her own child. She wasn’t sure if she could handle the knowledge that it might never be possible.

“What do they say?” Sam asked softly.

“They see no reason you couldn’t conceive again and carry a baby to term,” Monica said with a smile. “You’re young, you’re relatively healthy, you had a good pregnancy.” Her eyes clouded. “The baby was perfectly formed.”

Her mouth dry, Sam blinked. “Is she still here? I haven’t seen her–I just–I want to hold her. Can…can that happen?”

“She’s scheduled to be–” Monica stopped abruptly. No one wanted to talk about services, funerals or anything of the sort in conjunction with a baby and she especially wanted to avoid this with Sam’s child. “Let me see what I can do. It won’t be like holding a…” she hesitated.

“A living baby,” Sam supplied softly. “She’ll be cold. Her eyes won’t be open, she won’t cry, she won’t even wrap her hand around one of my fingers.” Tears filled her eyes. “But I still want to hold my daughter once.”

“Of course,” Monica nodded. “I’ll arrange it and come to get you.”

“Thank you,” Sam said. When she was gone, she exhaled slowly. “I can conceive again. That’s good.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sonny asked quietly. “I saw Adella after she was born. It was one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do, Sam.”

“She is my daughter and I have the right to say good bye in my own way,” Sam replied stiffly. Her shoulders were squared, a light of determination flickered in her brown eyes. “I have to do this, Sonny. I know you mean well but please don’t ask me not to do it.”

He nodded. “All right. I should go–make the arrangements for Tuesday.” He squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead before leaving the room.

Port Charles Courthouse: Court Room A

Brooke Lynn slid into a seat in the empty court room and looked around apprehensively. Brianne had told her that she would most likely not have to testify but she would need to be present. She would need to be in the same room as Diego Sanchez.

Part of her was unsure if she could handle it. Part of her wanted to go home, to go into her room and curl underneath the covers until ten years had past and this was all over. She knew from meeting with Elizabeth Webber that there was something worth reaching for, that there was a reason to keep living her life and striving for normalcy but Brooke didn’t think there was any shame in wishing she could get to the rest of her life and skip the recovery.

The door creaked open and footsteps entered the room. Lucas slid into the seat next to her. “Georgie, Dillon, Maxie and I skipped school today. We wanted to know if it would help if we were in here today.”

Brooke couldn’t turn and look at him. To let him see straight on the bruise that was just beginning to heal on her face. She wore a black turtleneck and a long black skirt to cover all her other bruises but no matter how much cover up she’d put on this morning, the purple and yellow pigments couldn’t be hidden. “If you want to be here, I can’t tell you not to.”

Lucas exhaled slowly and clasped his hands between his knees. He made sure to look at her, to hide the anger boiling just underneath the skin at the bruise covering the left side of her face. “I just wanted to make something clear between the two of us in case you thought otherwise. I have no intention of ending things between us.”

Brooke whipped her head to look at him, wariness cloaking her dark eyes. “What?”

“I mean, if you want to, that’s up to you. But I don’t want to. I care about you, Brooke and it has nothing to do with the physical side of it,” Lucas said quietly. “I can understand if you’d be more comfortable scaling things back so that we were just friends but I don’t want you to do it because you think I pity you. I don’t.”

“Of course you do,” Brooke replied stiffly. She swung her eyes to the defense table where in just a short hour, Diego would be seated. “I can see it in your eyes. In Georgie’s. Even in Dillon’s. And even though Maxie hasn’t gotten around to seeing me,” she said bitterly, “I know she would too. You pity me. All of you. My family. The police. Even the ADA. You all think I’m some poor little girl, some little victim.”

“Hey, it sucks what happened and whether you like it or not, you are a victim,” Lucas shot back.

Her eyes were burning with indignation. “I’m no one’s victim. He can’t make me afraid of him. I’m going to get on that stand and I’m going to tell the jury what he did to me. And I’m not going to ever let him forget it. Every parole hearing, I’ll be there until he’s served his full sentence. He’s not taking the rest of my life from me. I am not a victim, Lucas Jones, so don’t you dare sit there and cast me in that role.”

“Good,” Lucas said simply. He stood. “We were going to the vending machines out front. Dillon wants to try and experiment. Something about pouring water over the hot dogs you buy out there and seeing if they fizz. He says he saw it in New York City. Maxie bet him ten bucks it won’t happen. You want to come?”

Brooke hesitated for a moment but offered a hand. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. For the first time in a week, Brooke Lynn Ashton did not flinch when someone touched her.

Cottage: Living Room

“Look at Morgan,” Michael said to Cameron, who was sprawled out on a blanket in the middle of the floor. “He can walk.”

Cameron stared at his cousin with an unblinking stare. Michael sighed and pointed to his brother who was toddling around the room. “Look!” he directed. “You try it!”

Cameron just continued to stare. Michael grimaced. “You look just like Uncle Jason when you do that and he never does what I want him to do when he gets that look.”

Carly watched from the doorway and smiled to herself. Cameron did resemble his father at that moment, his beautiful blue eyes focused on her eager son. She turned and took the cup of coffee Elizabeth offered her. “Thanks for inviting us over today. Cam seems more open to playing.”

“Yeah, he seems to be mostly over his cold. The ear infection only seems to pain him when I need to sleep,” Elizabeth sighed with an indulging smile. “So you said Jason told Sonny yesterday.”

“Yep. Sonny called me after Jason left the hospital. Seems Jason dropped the bomb about both Cameron and his job and just left Sonny to deal with it. Sonny’s still processing it but I think part of him appreciated the way he was told. He said, and I quote, ‘It was like listening to him a few years ago. No excuses. No explanations. Just–here’s the situation. Now you deal with it.’ ” Carly laughed. “What I would have given to see his face when he found out.”

Elizabeth sipped her hot chocolate. “When do you think he’ll tell Courtney?” she asked reluctantly.

“Soon,” Carly said after considering it. “People know. Steven and I know, Sonny knows, I’m assuming he told Sam at some point. You mentioned Emily knows, which means Nikolas either does or will and that means the rest of the Spencers will. It’s only a matter of time. I just wonder how she’s going to take it.”

“I’m sorry if it hurts her,” Elizabeth admits. “But it’s really for the best if Jason tells her himself.”

“Yeah…well she brought it on herself,” Carly decided. “Michael, Cameron’s only a few months old. He’s not ready to tackle walking,” she called when Michael stood and attempted to pull Cam to his feet. “Crawling,” she suggested. “Show him how to crawl.”

“What do you mean, she brought it on herself?” Elizabeth asked. “It’s not like she shoved Jason in a room with me and stripped us both.”

“Well…she kissed him two weeks after you walked out on him. Even I had my doubts in the beginning if this was something that should be happening.” Carly shrugged. “But he seemed okay and she was thrilled so I encouraged it.” Her lips twisted into a grimaced smile. “It was nice to have some pull with one of Jason’s women for a change. Robin and you just were not controllable.”

Elizabeth laughed then and looked at the trio of boys on the floor. Michael was slivering on his belly and Cameron was just giggling. “No. I guess that should have been a clue.”

“Yep. The second I have any control in Jason’s life, something must not be right.” Carly sipped her coffee. “I haven’t spoken to Courtney since I moved out of the penthouse. She’s going through her own thing now and didn’t agree with me leaving and serving Sonny with divorce papers, so it seems like you’re my last female option.”

“Option?” Elizabeth said skeptically. “What does that mean?”

“It means I need some to vent about men with and Jason just does not fit that bill,” Carly remarked. “Though I will refrain from speaking about your brother with you.”

“My brother?” Elizabeth repeated. “I didn’t realize you and Steven were all that close.”

“We’re not. But he seems nice and he doesn’t treat me like I’m a five year old so he’s step above my husband and he doesn’t treat me like a disaster waiting to happen which is a step above Jason.”

“At least Jason’s right,” Elizabeth pointed out with a smirk.

“Bite me, Shorty,” Carly grumbled.

General Hospital: Morgue

Monica wheeled Sam into the cold room and stopped in front of a smaller table. “Are you sure about this?” she asked.

Sam nodded. “I think it’s something I need to do–to accept it.”

Monica sighed and lifted the sheet back to reveal a tiny baby laying on the table. She lifted her and set her in Sam’s arms.

“Oh…” Sam breathed, the tears slipping unnoticed down her cheeks. She was so cold, so still. But so perfect. Her little nose, her little lips. She touched her hand. Such small fingers and minuscule finger nails. Ten fingers, ten toes. Two eyes. She was so beautiful. “She would have been such a good little girl,” she murmured, raising her wet eyes to Monica, whose own eyes were watering.

“Her name is Adella Leigh and I think I would have called her Addy. She would have been so sweet and she would have given hugs to anyone who wanted them. She would have grown up safe, with a mother and father who loved her. She never for one moment would have doubted her worth, her future, her goals. I would have done anything to make her happy.” She leaned down and kissed her daughter for the first and last time on the forehead. “I’m so sorry I never got the chance to know you, Addy. Sweet princess.”

She lifted Adella out to Monica, who cradled her for a moment before setting her back on the table. She raised the sheet to cover her once more. “You would have been a good mother,” Monica murmured. “It’s the people who never expected to have such capacity for love that make the best parents. Jason didn’t know he could love like that either.”

“Well, he got a second chance.” Sam wiped her eyes and smiled up at her. “With the woman he really loves. I can only hope I have that sort of luck.”

Monica’s smile faltered and she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.” Sam reached up and squeezed Monica’s hand. “Thank you for being here, Dr. Quartermaine. I think it’s better I had another woman present who understood what I was going through. Because…you lost Jason too.”

“I was luckier,” Monica said after a moment. “I had twenty-two years of memories and you have but a few months.”

“I felt her kick inside me,” Sam said softly. “I felt her move, I felt her living inside of me. That’s enough. It’s more than some get.”

Port Charles Courthouse: Court Room A

Brianne set her bag on the table to the left of the judge and took a deep breath, surveying the empty courtroom. This would be her first preliminary hearing on a felony charge. Until this point, she had prosecuted misdemeanors and pleaded cases down. She had never first chaired a trial.

“You ready for today?”

Ric’s voice at her shoulder startled her and she jumped. “DA Lansing, ” she pressed a hand to her chest. “I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s Ric,” he corrected. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m as ready as possible,” Brianne replied. “Sanchez has a public defender but I assume that will change by trial since I found out that Lorenzo Alcazar is his father.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ric replied, slipping his hands into his pants pockets. “Alcazar didn’t bail him out and visited him only once. Perhaps there is a limit to fatherly love.”

“Anyhow, it’ll be bound over for trial,” Brianne said confidently. “We have a solid case on medical evidence and Brooke Lynn’s statement not to mention Mike Corbin’s. And for the trial, well–” she hesitated. “As long as Brooke testifies, we’ll be fine.”

Ric nodded. “Well, I wanted to speak to you now because I have an appointment with a realtor after the hearing so I’ll have to duck out. Ned Ashton called the office yesterday after you and Sergeant Spencer left.”

Brianne tensed. “He did,” she said slowly, stating it rather than asking.

“He was very impressed with your handling of a delicate situation yesterday–of which he did not go into–and wanted to let me know that it was nice that I appeared to have some common sense after all.”

“I merely prevented his ex-wife from taking Brooke Lynn out of the room during an important moment of her statement,” Brianne said. She shifted some folders around and pretended to be reading the medical report.

Spectators began to filter in, the Quartermaines first and then the Jones sisters along with their cousin Lucas. When Ned Ashton, his ex-wife and his daughter entered, there was a bit of hushed silence while Brooke left her parents to sit next to her friends. Lois made a move to follow her but Ned pulled her back to sit with the adults.

Nikolas Cassadine entered next, with his fiancé Emily Quartermaine and their friend Elizabeth Webber. Brianne remarked her from her report as someone Mac had suggested Brooke speak with. Since the woman was not a counselor, Brianne made a note to question her.

A thin young man barely old enough to out of law school came through the double doors and went to the defense table. Brianne recognized him from one of her misdemeanor drug cases and remembered that he was quick to deal–especially when the evidence was clearly stacked against his client.

An officer led Diego Sanchez in from a back room. Brooke stiffened–only slightly. Lucas felt it and so did Dillon. Lucas wrapped an arm around here shoulders while Dillon squeezed her hand. If looks could kill, the left side of the courtroom would be on trial. Diego just smirked and winked at Brooke, who wanted to vomit.

“The State of New York and the city of Port Charles versus Diego Sanchez is now called to order. The Honorable Winston Solomon presiding. All rise.”

An older man entered, dressed in the black judicial robes. He settled himself behind the tall bench. “Be seated.”

Brianne took a deep breath and sat down slowly, her back straight, her eyes pinned to the judge.

“The defendant is charged with rape in the first degree and assault in the first degree.” Solomon looked up and peered at Diego. “You have not entered a plea.”

“Not guilty,” Diego said, with a smirk.

“Christopher Hartman for the defense, Your Honor.” Hartman stood. “My client was not arraigned and was denied his due process. I move that the charges be dismissed.”

“What?” Georgie hissed. She glared at her father, who sat a few rows in front of them. “I’ll kill him!”

“Shh,” Maxie ordered.

“Says here your client had his one phone call, refused his right to be arraigned and had to be assigned an attorney. Motion denied.” Solomon turned his attention to Brianne. “You. Speak.”

Brianne stood. “Brianne Joyce for the State, Your Honor.” She picked up a report. “The state believes there is more than enough evidence to bind the defendant over trial. We have a medical report–”

“I’ve read it all,” Solomon said. He picked up his own copy of the medical report. “Says here that victim Brooke Lynn Ashton suffered from among other injuries, a concussion, some broken ribs and a broken nose.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“There’s also the results of a rape kit, positive for semen that matches one Diego Sanchez.” Solomon turned a page. “Some internal bruising and bleeding. All pretty self-explanatory, Ms. Joyce. And with Ms. Ashton’s statement, I agree. There is plenty of evidence.”

Brianne hid her smile. “Yes, Your Honor. We ask that bail continued to be denied for Diego Sanchez–”

“Your Honor, that is absurd,” Hartman interrupted. “This not a murder charge, it’s a rape charge–”

“Some would say it’s worse,” Solomon cut through harshly. “Leaving a victim alive to remember rather than killing them.”

Brooke paled and felt the bile rising in her throat. She needed to get out of here. Now.

“However, I have never denied bail for anything less than a murder or manslaughter charge,” Solomon continued.

“Your Honor, Diego Sanchez has no ties to the community. His own foster mother is not present and his father has more international ties than domestic–”

“His father has no plans to bail him out,” Lorenzo Alcazar remarked from the back of the room.

Ned whirled in his seat. “What the hell?”

“Oops,” Lois muttered. “Ah, Ned, sweetie, there’s something–”

“Order!” Solomon barked, rapping his gavel. “Who the hell are you?”

“Lorenzo Alcazar, the defendant’s father,” Lorenzo said. “I’m sorry for the interruption but I’d hate for anyone to get the idea I would be bailing him out.”

Diego paled and for the first time, he began to understand that this time–there was no rescue coming.

“Sit down,” the judge ordered. “Bail is set at a hundred thousand dollars.”

Pleased, Hartman sat. He’d only wanted the judge to set bail, he never expected to get a number his defendant could pay.

Brianne sat as well. Bail meant a trial.

“This defendant is bound over for trial,” Solomon said. “Trial is be set for January 5, 2005. Is that satisfactory?”

“The defendant has a right to a speedy trial,” Hartman complained. “That’s two months away–”

“The defendant can have his case tried right now if you’d like,” the judge remarked caustically. “I have some free time. I’m sure the State wouldn’t object.”

The State would, but Brianne just smiled at her colleague. Hartman glared at her before turning his attention back to the judge. “That’ll be fine,” he muttered.

General Hospital: Monica Quartermaine’s Office

Jason, just fresh from a visit with Sam where he’d been yelled at for not telling his mother about his son, knocked on Monica’s slightly ajar door. “Monica?”

“Jason.” Monica sprang up and kept her hands at her side. “I didn’t know–how are you?” she asked awkwardly.

“I’m fine. Do you have a minute?” he asked.

She nodded and watched as he entered the office and closed the door behind him. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you how sorry I am about Adella,” Monica said.

“Sam said you took her to the morgue to see her,” Jason said. “That you helped her–I wanted to thank you for that. I think she needed to talk to a woman.”

“I only told her the truth.” Monica hesitated, thought about asking him what Sam meant about how he’d found his second chance, but decided not to.

“I’m also here to tell you that you have a grandchild,” Jason said after another moment. “I have a son.”

“A son–” Monica pressed a hand to her mouth and bit her lip hard. She’d wondered–part of her had looked at that little boy’s eyes and remembered another face. It seemed almost another lifetime. “Cameron.”

Jason frowned. “How–how did you know that?”

“I–” Monica lifted her hands. “I saw him at the hospital and he just–he looked so much like you did.” She yanked open a desk drawer and withdrew a picture. She hesitated. “I know you can’t see–”

“I’m better with pictures,” Jason said. She handed the framed photo to him and he saw a professional portrait of a baby, not much older than Cameron was now. And he realized it could be his son’s twin. “This…this is me?”

Monica nodded, fighting the tears. “You were about eight months old. Susan had it taken–she was still alive then. She gave it to Alan and he gave it to me after the accident. I–I wanted to put all the pictures of you in one place so you wouldn’t run into them all over the house. But you moved out–and it didn’t matter.” Her voice faltered and she looked away.

She cleared her throat. “I saw Cameron and I was reminded of you. Since it was Elizabeth, I did wonder. And when you said you had a son, I just–I knew.” Her smile was weak but it was genuine. “I’m so very happy for you, Jason–and so grateful that he’s Elizabeth’s son as well.”

“Why?” Jason asked, frowning. “Why does that matter?”

“Because she’ll never take him from you. And she’s mature enough to handle a child, unlike…Courtney,” Monica muttered. “Elizabeth is a good person and I always–I always hoped you would end up together. I remember what you went through when she was missing.”

“We haven’t told many people,” Jason said, awkwardly. “It’s–it’s not easy information. But you’re welcome to visit him at the cottage at any time and Elizabeth will probably–she’ll probably let the rest of the family see him. She’s a little more tolerant than I am,” he admitted.

“A baby in the family,” Monica clasped her hands together. “We have to have a baby shower–some sort of celebration. We haven’t had a reason to be happy in so long. Would you mind terribly if I brought it up to Elizabeth?”

“Well, like I said–not everyone knows,” Jason reminded her. “So…it’s not something you can do right away–”

Monica waved him away. “What better way to announce to the world that he’s yours?” she asked. “You can tell the people that matter beforehand and then everyone else at the party.” Her eyes pleaded with him.

And Jason realized that it might just be the answer he’d been searching for. His way of making this up to Elizabeth. A Quartermaine party was never thrown without publicity, without some sort of fanfare. He would prove to her that he loved their son and that he loved her.

And if he had to deal with the Quartermaines to do it, well then she might just believe it.

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