July 14, 2015

This entry is part 2 of 19 in the Fiction Graveyard: Tangle

June 2024

No Name Restaurant: Dining Room

Amalia perused the menu and ignored her father’s somewhat impatient huff. Amalia alternated which parent she was going to piss off each week and it was Johnny Zacchara’s turn. She’d decided that if they couldn’t be civil to one another, then she wouldn’t bother being civil to them. In a world completely controlled by adults, it was her one rebellion. Sure, she spent most of her life grounded but since she could always wheedle calls and visits from her girl Jules, then it really wasn’t much of a problem. Nadine had a very maternal feeling towards Juliet and Johnny didn’t want to risk annoying Jason Morgan.

“This place closes eventually, Li,” Johnny said. “So you either choose or I will.”

“I’ll have the garden salad,” Amalia remarked. She closed her menu and handed it to the server, smiling brightly. “Thanks.”

“Ten minutes to choose lettuce,” Johnny muttered, reaching for a cigarette. “You must get that from your mother.”

“And I get my sparkling personality from you,” Amalia said shortly, “so I guess I have the best of both worlds.” She tapped her spoon restlessly against her plate. Her father did his best to ignore it but after a few minutes he grabbed the spoon from her.

“You just don’t feel right unless you’re locked in your room, do you?” he demanded.

“There isn’t anything remotely important happening this week,” she informed her father. “Jules and Jake both had their birthday bashes last month and Mal Drake’s party isn’t until September, so you can ground me for the rest of the summer if you want.”

“If your mother isn’t going to bother disciplining you, I might have to.”

She ignored the dig at her mother. She was very good at ignoring that since every other word out of Johnny Zacchara was disparaging to his first ex-wife. “So, what are your other plans for the summer?” she asked with a smirk. “Wife number four maybe?”

“I have about had it with your attitude,” Johnny said, slapping his hand down on the linen table cloth. “This is supposed to be a celebration of your graduation from middle school but if you’re going to insist on being a brat, we’ll just go home.”

“Oh, please,” Amalia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s a threat. You’ll just send me back to Mom and punish me that way.”

“You know, all this tossing you back and forth between me and your mom hasn’t had any benefits for you,” Johnny said after a moment. “Maybe we need to revisit the situation.”

Amalia stared at him suspiciously. This was new. Her parents had shared joint custody since their divorce. One week with Nadine, the next with Johnny. She alternated major holidays. Was this Johnny’s way of saying she’d finally pissed him off enough and he was going to dump her full time with her mom? “Maybe we do,” she said cautiously.

“I’ll talk to my lawyer when we get back to the house,” Johnny said. “You can still see your mom when you want, but you should be in one house full time.”

“Wait, what?” Amalia pushed away from the table. “You want Mom to give up custody?”

“What did you think I was suggesting?” he demanded. “Obviously, your bad behavior has been egged on by your mother because I certainly don’t put up with it.”

“You have lost your mind!” Amalia shot to her feet. “You are not taking my mother away from me!”

“I’m not trying to take anything—” Johnny broke off and glanced around at the surrounding tables and the interested gazes at each one. “Amalia, sit the hell down!” he hissed.

“No, you’re being completely irrational and I’m not going to sit here and listen to it. For the record, I piss Mom off just as much and she grounds me too.” She grabbed her purse and stalked out of the restaurant. When she heard her father’s heavy footsteps, she broke into a run. She’d been the star of her school track team and found it ridiculously easy to shoot into an alley, duck into a doorway and down behind a dumpster to lose him.

Her father had lost his freaking mind!

She dug her cell phone out of her small clutch and dialed the number of the only person who could and would pick her up right now.

“Jake? Have I mentioned lately that I love you?”

Fifteen minutes later, her best friend’s older brother pulled up in the cherry red convertible he’d received as a present for getting his driver’s license. At seventeen, Jake Morgan was the starring attraction in the dreams of most of the girls Amalia knew and probably a lot that she didn’t. He’d inherited his father’s blond hair and piercing blue eyes, not to mention his spectacular build.

If Amalia was just a year older, she could probably give those other girls a run for their money, but alas, she had just turned fourteen and was clearly not in his league.

Yet.

“My favorite best friend’s brother,” Amalia said cheerfully, planting herself in the front seat. “You are such a lifesaver.”

“Uh huh,” Jake remarked. He slid his sunglasses down to peer at her. “What did you do to get dumped off here?”

“I wasn’t dumped.” She rolled her eyes and huffed. “My father started to go insane so I left.”

“And John Zacchara just let you walk out of the No Name?” Jake said. He pushed his shades back up and put the car into gear. “Be real, Li.”

“Fine.” She folded her arms underneath her chest. “I ran and hid. But seriously, can you blame me? He was talking about suing my mom for full residential custody. He’s gone loco.”

“Way I hear it, he was never completely sane anyway.” Jake maneuvered a corner. “I suppose I’m taking you to see Jules.”

“Please. We need to discuss what I’m supposed to do and plus, my father is never going to burst into your place looking for me. He wouldn’t want to insult your dad.” Amalia shook her head. “Can you imagine? After ten years of tossing me back and forth, he thinks now is a good time for me to live with him! I think he’s just tired of sharing his house with random wives.” She pursed her lips. “You are so lucky your father isn’t nuts.” She slid a glance at him. “But I guess you’d rather have my problem, huh?”

“You mean having my parents fight over me like a bone?” Jake crossed over the border that separated downtown Port Charles from the elegant residential district that he and his family resided in.  “I guess. But I doubt I’ll know what that’s like unless Dad remarries.”

“Never going to happen,” Amalia shook her head. “He’d have to, you know, decide what happened to your mom.”

“Yeah, and he’d rather pretend she never existed,” he muttered. He pulled into the two car driveway and switched off the engine. “I can’t decide what’s healthier—pretending she never existed or just waiting around for her to come back. I guess he’d rather not deal with the obvious.”

“That she’s dead,” Amalia murmured. An option she had tried to suggest to Juliet but her best friend never wanted to consider that. As far as Jules was concerned, her mother was out there somewhere and had an excellent reason for abandoning her family.

And that it’s his fault.”

Amalia digested that and tapped her fingernails against her denim clad thigh. “Well, yeah, I guess that would be an excellent reason for him to prefer the other options.” She frowned. “Jake, you’re like older than me.”

“Um, yeah,” Jake said slowly as if she were the loco one now.

“No, I mean, you’re older than me so people tend to tell you stuff they would never tell me and Jules. Except my aunt Claudia,” Amalia frowned. “She doesn’t really pay attention to my age.” She grabbed his arm. “Have you ever heard any gossip about my parents?”

“Um.” He stared at her hand and then at her. “Well, yeah, sometimes. Nothing that you’d want to hear—”

“I want to hear plenty,” she assured him. “No one knows or would tell me anyway why they broke up or what they were like while they were married and all I’ve ever seen them do is fight, so I’m just kind of curious if you or even Cam might know anything.”

“Cam would know more, you know.  Your mom came over a lot, I think, after my mom…” Jake hesitated. “Wasn’t here anymore,” he finally settled for. “He would have some first hand stuff.”

“But you’ve got gossip,” Amalia narrowed her eyes. “You do, don’t you?”

“Only that people thought for a while that they were happy,” Jake shrugged. “At least for the first few years after you were born. Aunt Carly said that the most well-balanced she’d ever seen Johnny Zacchara was after he’d become a dad so knocking up your mom had been the best thing that had ever happened to him.”

“Seriously?” Her mouth dropped open. “My parents were happy together? I didn’t think they knew what that word meant.”

“Aunt Carly said that they were happy one second and then like someone flipped a switch, they were at each other throats and your mom moved out when you were like three. Bitter divorce, I think. Put Aunt Carly and Sonny Corinthos to shame, actually, the way I hear it. They fought over everything. The money, the house, you. But this is all second hand stuff, Li; I don’t know what might be true.”

“It never occurred to me to ask you or Cam.” Amalia digested what Jake had told her. “Okay, well my parents liking each other is definitely an interesting theory. I’ll have to consider it. Is Cam coming home from school this summer? Jules said he might stick around Boston.”

“Nah, he called last night. He’ll be home next week.” Jake opened his car door and stepped out.

Amalia sighed and stepped out into the driveway. “It sucks the way your dad keeps Jules from knowing anything about your mom. She was so little when it happened. You and Cam at least have something.”

“Cam has more,” Jake admitted as they walked up the front path. “Me, it’s more like I have a vague idea but he actually has tangible memories. Drove Jules crazy when she realized that.”

“Lots of things drive Jules crazy,” Amalia remarked. They entered the house and she looked towards the stairs. “Well, I guess I better go fill in Jules and get her advice on what to do now. Thanks for the ride home.”

Jake watched his little sister’s best friend dash up the staircase and exhaled slowly. Amalia Zacchara was three years younger than him (very nearly to the day) but she sure was growing up fast. In a couple of years, the age difference between them wouldn’t mean amount to much. After all, his father had been seven years older than his mom and everyone knew Jason Morgan had had an eye on Elizabeth Webber since she was eighteen.

Upstairs, Amalia burst into her friend’s room. “Jules, you won’t believe what happened—” she stopped when she saw Juliet sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up under her chin. “What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.

Juliet sniffled. “I was cleaning my room.”

Amalia lowered herself onto the bed. “Always a reason for sulking,” she said.

“No, I mean I was cleaning out under my bed and my dad came in. We were talking about the party Aunt Carly’s throwing at the hotel and I wasn’t paying attention.” Juliet sniffled again. “I knocked over The Box.”

Amalia’s mouth formed an ‘O’ as she realized exactly why Juliet was upset. The Box contained all the pictures and clippings of Elizabeth Webber Morgan that the teen had hoarded over the years, not something that Jason Morgan would have been happy to see, especially after all the trouble he’d gone through to keep Juliet from asking questions about her mother.

“And what did your dad say?”

“Nothing,” Juliet said. “Which was the worst part, you know. This picture of my mom that Robin gave me fell out first, it was from the wedding. He just stared at it and then picked it up, put it back in and took the whole box with him. He never said a word.” Juliet wiped her hand over her eyes. “But he just looked…” she hesitated.  “He looked destroyed.”

Jacks Home: Living Room

“If you think for one second that I don’t know what you’re up to tonight, then you apparently don’t give me enough credit,” Carly Jacks told her daughter with a smirk. Fifteen-year-old Cecily Jane Jacks arched an eyebrow.

“And what exactly do you think I’m up to?”

“Well, I think that you’re not going to be anywhere near Pauline’s room and that it’s more likely that you think you’re going down to the quarry with Mal.”

Cecily huffed. “You’re insane.”

“I’m also right.” Carly tapped her foot. “And don’t think for one second that your father and I won’t take you to Pauline’s and sit outside all night to make sure you’re there.”

Cecily’s cheeks flushed with anger and she stomped her foot. “You guys are so mean! None of the other kids have to go through this!”

“None of the other kids were caught with their boyfriend in the music room at school,” Carly retorted. “So what’s it gonna be? Am I gonna have to call Pauline every hour on the hour and are you really going to make me have to call Mal’s mother to make sure he’s home?”

“That’s so embarrassing, Mom!” Cecily shrieked. “You don’t even like Mal’s mother, why would you do that?”

“Because as much as Robin Drake and I dislike each other, we want our kids to be safe. So make your choice. You and Pauline can stay here tonight or I can just stay up all night outside her house. It’s up to you.”

Cecily glared at her mother but Carly was the original stubborn mule and the teenager finally gave in. “I’ll call Pauline and tell her she has to come here. You’re such a nerd.” She stomped up the stairs.

“Why do girls have to be so much worse than boys?” Carly muttered, collapsing on the couch in exhaustion. Morgan hadn’t been nearly this difficult at her age and…she sighed, rubbing her temple. She wondered if Michael would have been as easy going as his brother or as temperamental as his sister? But he’d never passed the age of twelve—had died on the floor of Corinthos & Morgan warehouse, the victim of a bullet meant for Sonny Corinthos.

Sonny had been killed mere weeks later. He’d lost it after Michael’s death and no matter how Jason had tried to hold him back, he’d gone after Johnny Zacchara in retaliation. Carly had never blamed the younger man for killing Sonny. He’d been protecting himself and Sonny hadn’t had any real evidence of the Zacchara’s involvement. There’d been a trial but Johnny had been acquitted.

In the sixteen years since her son’s death, the pain had faded. Carly had conceived their daughter only months later, and it had essentially saved her sanity. She’d been drifting into a depression that would have caused her marriage to crumble eventually but she and Jax had focused their love on Morgan and their daughter and had somehow rebuilt their lives.

But Carly thought about Michael all the time. He’d be twenty-six, his own man. Maybe married. Maybe Carly would have been a grandmother by now.

Carly shook her head to clear herself of the somber thoughts. It was never best to dwell on those sorts of things for too long.

There was a light knock on her front door and then Jason pushed it open. She started to smile and greet him, but something about the look on her best friend’s face had the greeting dying on her lips. “Jase, what’s wrong?” She got to her feet. “Is it one of the kids?”

“Ah, no.” Jason Morgan closed the door behind himself and stepped down into her living room. He held a dusty shoe box in his hands. “I found this in Juliet’s room today.”

Carly frowned and took the box from him, setting it on her coffee table. She took her seat and carefully opened it. Her eyes softened as she removed the photo of Jason’s wife on her wedding day. And then the clipping of their wedding announcement. A long forgotten photo of Elizabeth, huge with pregnancy. Another of Elizabeth and the boys. Another newspaper clipping when Elizabeth’s grandmother had died.

A photo of Elizabeth with infant Juliet, mere weeks before her vanishing.

“Oh, Jase…” She tugged her friend down next to her. “Are you all right?”

“I—” He cleared his throat. “I haven’t looked at a photo of her in nearly thirteen years,” he admitted. “I packed them away with her things when I came home and I put them in your basement.  I didn’t even want them in the house.”

“I know, Jase. It’s all still downstairs,” Carly assured him. “I always saved them for Jules. Or if, you know…” she trailed off. If Elizabeth came home, which had seemed like a remote possibility thirteen years ago when she’d vanished. Now of course, Carly knew the boxes in the basement would be for Juliet and her brothers. “What did Juliet say?”

“Nothing,” Jason shook his head. “She was upset that I found them, I guess, but I just took the box and left.”

“Well…” she hesitated.  “You knew Jules would have questions about her. It’s hard for a girl without her mom and it’s only natural she’s curious.”

“I know,” he said.

“We all agreed that we shouldn’t talk about her around the kids so that they would be able to move on and have normal lives but they’re going to be curious. I’m sure Jules has pumped her brother for information. It’s her mother, Jase. You weren’t going to be able to hide her forever.”

“I know,” Jason repeated, “but I guess…I thought Juliet would come to me with her questions.” He looked at his oldest friend with grief. “Have I made it so difficult for my kids to talk about their mother with me?”

“No,” Carly said slowly, “but I think the boys—especially Cameron—knew that you had taken it badly and it’s possible he also cautioned Jake and Jules to keep the talk to a minimum around you. They love you so much, Jase, they were just trying to protect you.”

“She shouldn’t be in a box under Juliet’s bed,” Jason said quietly. He reached for the last photograph—of Elizabeth and Jason, with all three kids, in the living room. It was only portrait of the five of them that existed and he knew where his daughter had found it. “You gave her some of these.”

“Ah…” Carly smiled weakly. “Yeah. Well, Jules had her questions and I answered what I thought I could. She was only about ten then and not old enough for some of it. She started to cry because she didn’t know what her mother looked like. I couldn’t let her leave like that, Jase, so I picked out some of the best ones I had in an album. I’m sorry, I should have told you she came to me, but no one wanted to discuss it with you. We were worried…”  Carly shrugged. “We were worried that you might finally realize…”

“That she’s never coming back,” Jason said roughly, putting the picture back in the box. “You all think she’s dead.”

“I don’t want to think that,” Carly assured him. “No one wants to think that. But as much as Elizabeth and I didn’t really get along, even if she had left unwillingly, in all this time—she would have found a way to get word to her kids at the very least and I don’t believe she would have left willingly. Not her kids. Even if she didn’t love you anymore, she would never have left her kids.”

“So of course she has to be dead.” He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the mantel. “It’s crossed my mind, you know.  I thought that she must be dead because Elizabeth wouldn’t have left—not that way. She had too much backbone to abandon her kids and her marriage. If we had problems, she would have been upfront about it but you know, we weren’t having problems.” He stopped, his voice at the breaking point. “We were happier in the months since Juliet was born than either of us had been in years.”

“And that’s why the people who know you and love you—and Elizabeth…” Carly stood, “that’s why we think she’s dead.” It was a relief to be speaking these words finally. Maybe Jason could grieve and find a way to put his wife in his past.

“I know and I don’t blame you for thinking that but I would feel it.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I just…I would know if something had happened to her. I always could. When Diego Alcazar kidnapped her, when she was in that hotel, having those cramps with Jake, I could feel that something was wrong. I would know if she was dead, Carly. She’s not dead.”

“It’s been thirteen years, Jase,” Carly murmured. “Your little girl needs more than a feeling. She needs to know about her mother and the only person who can truly give Elizabeth to her is the person who loved her most in the world and that’s you.”

“I need to have Elizabeth’s things brought back to the house,” Jason said after a long silence. “I want to go through them with the kids. When Cam comes home next week, we need to talk about her.” He hesitated. “I’d like for you, Jax and the kids to be there. If you can.”

“Of course,” Carly murmured. She crossed the room and wrapped her arms tightly around her oldest and dearest friend. “Whatever you and the kids need, you know that Jax and I will always be there for you.”

This entry is part 1 of 19 in the Fiction Graveyard: Tangle

Make sure you’ve checked out the story page with the timeline and setup information!


 

Juliet Morgan had made the same wish every birthday since she was six years old and had been old enough to know something wasn’t entirely right with her family. For eight years, she had closed her eyes and blew out her candles and whispered the same phrase silently in her head.

I wish I knew my mother.

Until she was six, Juliet hadn’t really known she was lacking a mother. Sure, her best friend Amalia Zacchara had one, but it didn’t occur to Juliet that hers had gone away. She just…wasn’t there but her dad was and so were her aunt and a few uncles. She had two older brothers, a bunch of cousins. She never thought about moms.

Then Amalia told her that she’d heard her parents discussing—more like arguing because Amalia’s parents had spent every day of their divorced lives arguing with one another and to be honest, a great deal of their marriage—Juliet’s mother and what had happened to her.

It would be the only version that Juliet would ever hear. Her brothers, Cameron and Jake, hadn’t been old enough to remember what had happened and Jason Morgan, her father, never spoke of it. Juliet personally thought he might have forbidden anyone to speak of it in his presence. And hers.

In the eight years since Juliet learned that she’d had a mother once, Amalia had bugged her parents for more details and they had a much clearer picture. When Juliet had been six months old, Elizabeth Morgan had left for work one morning and simply vanished. No trace of her, living or dead, had ever been found.

The general consensus, Amalia had reported when they were twelve, was that Elizabeth had become tired of the dangerous lifestyle and taken off. Amalia’s mom didn’t believe that. Elizabeth, according to Nadine Zacchara, had loved her kids more than life and her husband had been the center of everything to her.

Juliet had quizzed her oldest brother mercilessly as he had the only truly clear memories out of the three of them but Cameron had been only five, so she’d long ago sucked him dry of anything worthwhile.

Desperate though she was for information, Juliet was careful to keep her obsession from her father. Jason never spoke about his wife, but when they were thirteen, Amalia overheard Nadine talking about that awful year Jason had disappeared to search for Elizabeth, leaving his kids with best friend Carly Jacks.

He’d returned empty-handed, of course, but had never filed for divorce or tried to have his wife declared legally dead. Poor man just waited for her to come back, Nadine clucked sympathetically to a fellow nurse while Amalia had been pretending to do her homework a few feet away.

Amalia and Juliet had found the idea of Jason’s eternal devotion very romantic and Amalia secretly wished her own parents had the same sort of story. Unfortunately, the background behind the unlikely pairing of tortured bad boy Johnny Zacchara and pretty nurse Nadine Crowell was both well-known and the opposite of romantic.

Amalia’s wickedly fascinating aunt Claudia had clued the duo in when they were eleven and she’d felt they were old enough to know the reality of life. Johnny and Nadine were never actually together but after a few drinks too many one night, they’d slept together and Nadine turned up pregnant. Johnny did the right thing and married her. Of course, everyone knew that the marriage had cracked up four years later and Johnny had been through two other wives since then but Nadine had remained single.

Amalia was the only product of the marriage and from the time she was eleven, had known that she was a mistake. She was horribly jealous of her best friend for having parents that had loved each other but then she’d found out that Juliet’s mother had gotten knocked up by Jason Morgan while she was married to someone else and lied to him about Juliet’s brother Jake. It had helped take a little of the bitterness away.

Parents were very weird.

So now the girls were fourteen. Juliet had made her usual wish and wondered if this year would be the year she’d know what had happened to her mother.

And Amalia wondered if maybe this year she’d know why her parents hated each other so much that they couldn’t be in the same room together without bitterness and anger.

July 12, 2015

I was getting impatient, haha. Chapter 13 of All We Are has been posted today because well, damn it, I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted you guys to see the twist and I’ve had to keep it in for months after I decided to do the opening scene.

Additionally, I fixed the comment template here at CG. I’ve hated it for eons, but couldn’t quite make it do what I wanted. I’ve now adjusted it and will be taking it to the Damaged site later today once I finish editing those files.

Oh, and I added a missing title to the Sort By Title feature. And then I counted. There are 112 links on that page, which means there are roughly 105-108 stories on this site now. It’s not quite 112 since I’ve separated some stories that are part of a series and linked the series as well. And that doesn’t count the Fiction Graveyard. I have spent the better part of my 20s writing for GH. It’s sad 😛

And I added a new story status for the summer which gives you my status on in progress stories and previews what I’m working on elsewhere.

So enjoy your surprise update! We’re kicking off a great week here at CG. I’ll be back on Wednesday with Chapter 22 of The Best Thing, and then on Friday, you get a Jason and Elizabeth reunion in Damaged. (Oh, shoot did I give you a spoiler? Maybe.)

This entry is part 13 of 18 in the All We Are

You’re always on display
For everyone to watch and learn from
Don’t you know by now
You can’t turn back
Because this road is all you’ll ever have

Fences, Paramore


Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Port Charles Municipal Building: Scott Baldwin’s Office

 Scott was standing by a conference table stacked with paperwork and files as his secretary opened his office door and presented an unhappy trio of guests. Diane Miller strode in first with an annoyed expression drawn on her impatient features.

Jason and Elizabeth Morgan were expressionless, stoic, and even blank as they filed in behind her and took the seats Scott offered them.  He was surprised at the poker face Morgan’s wife managed, but all those years of exposure to criminal elements had clearly rubbed off.

He had practiced for this moment, rehearsed this presentation—he was as ready as a man could be for the biggest moment in his career. This meeting would kick off his attack.

He was going to nail Sonny Corinthos to the wall, and the couple in front of him was the key.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Scott asked once the trio was seated, Diane adjacent at the head of the table while the Morgans sat next to one another directly across from him. “Mrs. Morgan?”

“No, thank you.” Diane sniffed. “My clients are here to get to the bottom of your scurrilous and potentially inflammatory threats. They do not intend to make any statements at this time.”

“No problem.” Scott sat and reached for his legal pad. “I’m prepared to do all the talking.” He picked up his pen with one hand and reached for the stack of paperwork with the other.

“While I was unable to confer with DA Lansing regarding current cases pending against Sonny Corinthos or Jason Morgan, I did have access to his court docket. When I saw that he had specifically been barred from dealing with Elizabeth Morgan, I asked the PCPD to provide me with any piece of paper in their archives featuring Elizabeth Webber Lansing Spencer Morgan’s name.” Scott shot Morgan’s wife a smile. “A lot of names for such a young woman.”

He cheered when he saw a muscle twitch in Morgan’s face. Ha! It wasn’t much but it was something.

“I was surprised to see so much.” Scott patted the pile. “But some of it we can discard.” He reached for the first one and set it down. “Your name as a witness involving a drive by shooting at Luke’s in which Nikolas Cassadine was injured, another as a witness to a fire in a garage owned by Morgan…obviously, these aren’t pertinent.”

“Mr. Baldwin,” Diane began.

“But here’s where your history starts to get interesting, Mrs. Morgan.” Scott reached for another report. “A bomb was found in your studio building. Morgan knew about it and saved your life.” He tilted his head. “You were dating back then according to the rumor mill.” He tapped a line. “The officer on the scene refers to you as Morgan’s girlfriend.”

“My clients are not commenting—”

“No need.” Scott reached for another report. “Both questioned when Emily Quartermaine was kidnapped by Zander Smith. Mrs. Morgan is again a witness to another fire involving Morgan—the warehouse fire in 2001.” Scott placed each report down as he enumerated them. “A report to Lieutenant Taggart stating Elizabeth Webber was kidnapped. You and Taggart worked closely to get her back according to the reports. She was rescued, though a bit ill from exposure to gas.”

And then Morgan’s wife glanced at her husband, surprise in her eyes.  Should he be enjoying this so much?

“The warehouse explodes again. You’re both on scene, just a month later, when Zander Smith accidentally shoots Mrs. Morgan.” Scott arched a brow. “Not the last time your name appears with him, is it, Morgan?”

“Baldwin,” Diane cut in, her tone much less impatient. “We don’t have all the time in the world.”

“I’m previewing my opening statement, Counselor,” Scott said, not taking his eyes from Jason Morgan. “Mrs. Morgan gives a statement about her ex-husband taking Carly Corinthos hostage, though we’re unfortunately unable to corroborate it. And then…” Scott slid another paper on top of the growing stack.

“Morgan gives a statement that disgraced former officer Andrew Capelli admits to hitting Zander Smith in the head after the Port Charles Hotel burns to the ground. Zander Smith’s murder case is closed—though your statement appears to superfluous since he escaped and was killed in a hail of gunfire.”

“What does that have to do with my clients?” Diane admitted.

“I’m just getting started, Ms. Miller. This will go faster if you don’t interrupt.” Scott held up another report. “The two of you are questioned in relation to the murder of Mary Bishop, but then you both seem to disappear from the files for a bit. Until this year.” He held up a photograph of Jason and Carly standing with a police officer. “Recognize this, Morgan?”

He tossed it across the table. “From this last February.”

Morgan barely glanced at it before glancing at Diane. “No,” he said shortly.

“I have it on video as well. You and Carly are demanding access to the building because you have the antidote to that terrible virus.” Scott leaned forward. “You’re not asking to speak to Patrick Drake, who was nominally in charge. Or Robert Scorpio, head of the medical team and quarantine. Do you know who you ask for? Nurse Elizabeth Webber.” He smirked. “Couldn’t quite remember her married name, could you?”

“Baldwin—”

“The two of you really seem to be back in each other’s lives after that point,” Scott continued, ignoring Diane’s annoyed interjection. “You saved her life when she was kidnapped by Manny Ruiz. She came to visit you while you were in lockup. Then you were both arrested for an illegal surgery.”

The stack of papers in front of him was nearly an inch and a half thick by the time Scott placed this last report on top. “Do you know why I took you down this walk on memory lane?”

“My clients are not making a statement—”

“Because it’s part of my larger narrative. When I tell a jury the charges against sweet and compassionate Elizabeth Morgan, I don’t want them seeing the town sweetheart they all know,” Scott continued. “Granddaughter of Steve and Audrey Hardy, hard-working nurse. I want them to see the woman who has been steeped in the criminal element of this town since she was old enough to drive.”

Again Morgan’s muscle twitched, but the two of them remained poker face, even if Elizabeth’s face drained of color.

“Lansing had the wrong theory of the crime,” Scott continued. “You didn’t steal those drugs to help your husband. You stole them to drug your husband so he wouldn’t discover your affair.”

At that, Morgan stood up. “We’re leaving,” he told Diane.

“If you walk out now,” Scott told Elizabeth Morgan, “I’ll have Detective Rodriguez slap handcuffs on you now. I’ve already drawn up the arrest warrant. I just have to execute it.”

“Jason.” Diane nodded, but Morgan didn’t resume his seat. He shoved the chair away from the table and moved to stand behind his wife. “Baldwin, you spoke of a plea agreement but I still don’t see a shred of proof—”

“Because I haven’t finished,” Scott said, offering her a pleasant smile. He took the stack of paperwork and put it to one side. Then he slid a paper across the table to Elizabeth. “Do you know what that is?”

“I—” Elizabeth swallowed and handed it to her lawyer. “A sign in sheet of some kind.”

“It’s for the PCPD.” Diane narrowed her eyes. “What game are you playing?”

“Do you know what happened on this date?” Scott asked. “Alexis Davis had served a subpoena on Jason Morgan’s financial records, but a crucial part of the file disappeared from the squad room.” He tapped the sheet. “Right during the window Elizabeth Spencer signed in to speak with her husband—who was not on the scene.” He set down a few still photographs. “I have you standing near Alexis and Sam, where you could likely overhear them discussing the case. You stole that file and you destroyed it.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened and she looked again to her lawyer. “Diane—”

“Baldwin,” Diane began but some of her bluster had dissipated. “What—”

“Look at this stack of reports.” Scott patted it. “Morgan rescued you over and over again. You’re telling me you didn’t take this opportunity to do the same for him?”

“I—” Elizabeth closed her mouth when Jason’s hand dropped down on her shoulder.

“This interview is over—” Diane began, but then stopped when Scott held up the arrest warrant. “Put your goddamn cards on the table, Baldwin,” she snapped.

“I’m about to, but I want Mrs. Morgan to understand the stakes.” He looked back at the pale woman in front of him, her blue eyes filled with fear, with shock, with worry.  “Lucky Spencer asked Cruz Rodriguez, a fellow officer, to follow you. He knew you were having an affair with someone. Rodriguez saw you going into a hotel with Patrick Drake, and reported that to Lucky.”

“I wasn’t—” Elizabeth’s voice was faint. “I was working.”

“I know,” Scott told her, ignoring the faint curl of shame in his chest. He knew he was going after a woman who’d led a difficult life, but he told himself that if this worked she’d be free of all of this.

He was helping her, even if she didn’t see it.

“And Rodriguez knew that, too,” he said, a bit more kindly. “He bribed staff to tell him. He knew when he told Lucky about the hotel that it wasn’t true. But he’d seen you going into Morgan’s penthouse by then. And he’s worked in Port Charles long enough to know a bit of the history. He has signed an affidavit claiming to have followed you on several more occasions when you met up with Jason Morgan, going to his penthouse and staying for several hours at a time.”

“Even if it were true, it’s hardly a crime,” Diane said, leaning forward. “I’ll object to any mention of such things—”

“It’s part of my narrative,” Scott repeated. “Elizabeth knew her husband was having her followed—Lucky Spencer confronted her about the hotel. I’m confident he’ll give us a statement to that effect—she was aware Lucky suspected her of having an affair, but knew he had the wrong man.”

When Diane said nothing this time, Scott knew he had won. The lawyer had connected the dots. “And she drugged him to keep him none the wiser.”

“No—” Elizabeth started to protest, but when Diane cut her a scathing glance, she closed her mouth.

“You weren’t ready to leave your husband—maybe Morgan hadn’t given you the go ahead. Why leave a sure thing for something that might not pan out?” Scott shrugged. “You played it smart, Mrs. Morgan. You waited until you knew Lucky could be painted as the bad guy, but you still didn’t leave him. Not until you discovered you were pregnant. Jason Morgan had to pay attention then.”

There was murder in Morgan’s eyes as he listened to Scott paint the picture of Elizabeth as a grasping, greedy woman who had set out to trap him. “Diane—”

“You, again, cannot prove any of this—” Diane said.

“Can’t I?” Scott raised his brows. “Elizabeth is pregnant with his child. I’m sure her medical records will reflect she knew about the pregnancy before Lucky Spencer went to rehab, before the marriage to Morgan. I can tie her to the drugs found in her apartment, I can tie her to the theft of the files last summer. I have means, I have opportunity, and I’ve told you the motive.” He looked to Diane. “Do you really think I can’t convince a jury?”

Diane exhaled slowly and looked at her clients for a long moment before she focused on him. “You mentioned a plea agreement. Let’s just…” She spread her hands out. “Let’s just entertain it for a moment.”

“I don’t want Elizabeth Morgan in jail,” Scott said. “Justice isn’t served that way. And I can’t have her testify against her husband or even his business partner.” At that, Diane’s eyes narrowed. “I thought about trying to leverage her against Sonny, but you could always waive that pesky privilege in my face. Anything she might know might be due to it. Fair enough. But that doesn’t stop me from leveraging her against Jason in another way.”

“I don’t—” Elizabeth licked her lips, flicking her eyes to Diane, then to Morgan who had resumed his seat at those words. “I don’t understand.”

“Do I have to explain marital privilege to you?” Diane demanded.

“I want Jason Morgan to testify against Sonny Corinthos,” Scott told them. “If he cooperates, we can talk about making the rest of this go away.”

“How many ethical violations are you trying to break?” Diane demanded. “You can’t involve a third party—”

“Prosecutorial discretion.” Scott blinked. “Maybe I don’t think these crimes are so important after all. I mean, I don’t have to prosecute her.  I could be busy with other cases. More important ones.” He flashed a smile. “It might be on the edge, Ms. Miller, but you and I both know I’m not outright violating anything.”

Diane scowled as she leaned forward. “Are you telling me that unless Jason Morgan testifies against his business partner, you’ll prosecute his wife? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I’m saying,” Scott said slowly, locking eyes with Jason Morgan, “I have both cases in front of me. It’s up to Mr. Morgan which one I look at first.”

Game. Set. Match.

Kelly’s: Diner

 Emily knew when to throw in the towel, and that moment had arrived. Lucky was seething over the response his lawyer had given him, with the copy of the paternity test and Jason’s petition to adopt Cameron.

She had been on Lucky’s side from the start because she knew what it was like to blow up your life with drugs. She knew the importance of family standing behind you when you emerged from rehab, knew that support was essential.

In all these years, she had never relapsed, and she was determined Lucky wouldn’t either.

He had stood by her, how could she do any less?

But she knew Nikolas was judging her. Knew she had lost her brother in this mess.

Had lost Elizabeth.

“Lucky,” she said, softly. “You said you were concerned about Cameron. That he wouldn’t feel loved if you didn’t try. And I understood that. But now we know he’ll be okay. You know my brother will be an amazing father—”

“But—” Lucky looked at her. “If I don’t have Cameron, if I don’t have the baby, what do I have?” He set the letter down. “I loved them. I love them,” he corrected.

“I know.” Emily hesitated. “I don’t like the way Elizabeth lied to you and deceived you into the divorce, but maybe it was for the best.” She reached for his hand. “You still have me and Nikolas. Lulu. Your grandmother. You’re not alone.”

“I wanted Cameron to know I loved him,” Lucky said. “I don’t want him to think I threw him away…” He looked away. “But Elizabeth thinks that.”

“No.” Emily shook her head. “No, she doesn’t—”

“I had him and it wasn’t enough to stay away from the drugs.” Lucky stared at his hands. “I saw you go through it, Em. How could I do it to my own family? I can’t stop thinking about how I wrecked it. I know Elizabeth was already—I know now I lost her once your brother was back in the picture, but I didn’t know that then. Maybe I could have saved my marriage. But I destroyed it, and I destroyed my family for what?” His mouth twisted as he crumpled the letter in his fist. “I don’t even know anymore.”

“Lucky—”

“I told my lawyer to drop the custody suit,” he said after a long moment. “He told me with these developments I wouldn’t win and I’d just waste my time and my money. He said I should focus on my recovery.” He exhaled slowly. “I went to a meeting after. And I’m going to another one tonight.”

“Good.” Emily nodded. “That’s for the best—”

“And I guess I’ll just go to a meeting every time I wish I were floating away from it all.” Lucky took his lawyer’s letter and tossed it in the busboy’s bin at the next table. “I hope your brother takes care of them. They deserved better than me.”

Greystone Manor: Living Room

 “How is Elizabeth taking it?” Sonny asked quietly after Jason had discussed the meeting with him.

“She went to Robin and Patrick’s. She’s—she’s devastated.” Jason sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. “I never—I never thought about the file she destroyed. I—I thought if they had any evidence against her, they would have come for her already.”

“What does Diane say about the chances?” Sonny asked. “She didn’t think the charges would be an issue—”

“When it was just Elizabeth risking her career because Lucky wanted her to steal the pills, no, Diane wasn’t worried. She said no jury in her right mind would believe it.” Jason clasped his hands between his knees and looked at Sonny. “But Scott’s not going with that narrative.”

“What’s the other narrative?” Sonny frowned.

“He’d gone through Elizabeth’s records from the station. Every time her name appeared in report—every time it was even remotely related to me or you.” His mouth twisted as he remembered. “He’s using our history to suggest we were having an affair, that she drugged Lucky to keep him from learning about it until she could leave him. That she stole those files to protect me the way I’ve always protected her.”

He waited a moment. “And I could see it in my head—the way he’d pictured it. A jury isn’t going to understand how it happened. They’re not—” Jason rose, restless. “An officer was tailing her last summer—trying to prove an affair to Lucky. She used to come to the penthouse, stressed about Lucky. Worried he was getting addicted. Wanting my advice. A jury won’t believe that’s all we were doing.”

“Not with you getting married only months later.” Sonny shook his head. “Did Scott say what he wanted you to flip on me for? Any specific case?”

“I get the feeling he’d like anything I can prove,” Jason muttered. “We have time to think about it. Diane is—she’s going to look at the case files. He gave her copies of the reports, of the evidence. He wants her to know how strong the case is.”

“I thought Diane said it would be career suicide to go after you like this?” Sonny demanded. “Can’t we file a grievance?”

“Diane was hoping he’d tip his hand, show his vendetta against you.” Jason paced to the window, looked out over the grounds. “But he was smart. He phrased it as a matter of priority. If he were busy prosecuting you, he wouldn’t have time for petty offenses.” Jason looked at him. “Diane is going to put together a trial strategy.”

“If—” Sonny hesitated. “If she went to trial—”

“If she were convicted,” Jason said, “she’s looking at ten years. And no judge is going to be lenient on my wife.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “We just—we have to get the charges dismissed. That’s all. Diane will get us out of it—”

But Sonny doubted it. Jason had panic etched into his normally stoic features. And if it came down to letting Elizabeth go to trial and possibly to jail or testifying against him…

Sonny had a good idea what his chances were.

“Jason, if we need to talk about you testifying—”

“It’s not going to come to that. Elizabeth told me not to even think about it. She said we’d find another way.”

But Jason didn’t meet his eyes.

Patrick’s Apartment: Living Room

 “I don’t understand.” Patrick scowled. “Jason has a get out of jail free card for you, and for some reason, Sonny Corinthos isn’t cooling his heels in jail already?”

“It’s not that simple,” Robin told him, with a shove to the shoulder.  But she looked skeptical as she turned back to Elizabeth. “What does Diane think?”

Elizabeth rubbed her arms, feeling chilled through her thin sweater. “She came back to the penthouse to talk strategy with us.” She looked at Patrick and Robin as they loomed over her, their faces wearing identical expressions of confusion and concern. “Scott gave us a week. She wants to go over his reports to determine how a trial might go.”

“Trial?” Patrick demanded. “This is insanity. Sonny Corinthos is an actual criminal. You are his actual pregnant wife. Why isn’t this simple?”

“I told Jason it wasn’t even on the table.” Elizabeth rose to her feet. “Maybe if it were just the drug charges—I mean, those are insane. I never would have stolen from the hospital—” She dipped her head. “But the file—”

Robin held up her hand. “Stop there. If you say what I think you’re going to, Patrick and I will have to perjure ourselves in court. I mean, I’ll do it,” she added quickly when Patrick just scrubbed his hands over his face with a groan. “But I’d prefer not to.”

“I’m sorry.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I just—Diane can make this go away. She’s an amazing attorney. She’ll make this go away, and Jason won’t have to make this decision. I don’t want him to make it. I couldn’t live with myself, and I told him that.”

“So what?” Patrick countered. “He should do it anyway—”

“We’re waiting to see what Diane says.” Elizabeth licked her lips. “I just—I left. I told him I needed some space, and I knew he had to talk to Sonny.”

“Robin, maybe it’s because I’m new, but I don’t get it,” Patrick said to his girlfriend. “She can walk away clean. The drug charges are bullshit and the others—” He looked to Elizabeth. “It was a moment of insanity, whatever it was. They can’t seriously mean to put you in jail.”

“Scott Baldwin has wanted Sonny Corinthos for ages,” Robin murmured. “Looks like he might get the chance.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Not because of me. I won’t be the reason—” She took a deep breath. “Diane will make this go away. I have faith in her.”

The alternative was too terrifying to consider.

July 10, 2015

I’m leaning towards trying to do these status updates once every two months 🙂 So here we are.

First, an overall update for my writing in general. When I returned to writing in February of 2014, I had about three straight months of prolific output. I wrote all of A Few Words, a few short stories, a few novellas and delved into The Best Thing and Damaged. Due to my dissertation, moving back home from London, and then being ill for several months this last year, I started to lose my mojo.

But not only has my health straightened itself out, so has my general disposition. I was feeling a bit low last winter–a job I had hoped for after my masters degree didn’t pan out, so I was unemployed for several months. I started working finally in February and then really started to pick up hours in April, so it’s no surprise that as my spirits picked up, so did my writing.

I took a mental health break for about two months, but since I started writing again in May, I’m writing better than I have in years. I found a way to focus myself and stay on task and I’m really looking forward to continuing my updates. You guys were so wonderfully supportive last summer and then this winter when I struggled. I’m ridiculously appreciative.

In Progress

Damaged – Season One has wrapped up. Season Two has been largely storyboarded, though I’m still working out a few various details. I’ve written the first episode and plan to do two or three more episodes over the next week now that I’ve gotten myself back into the groove with my writing.  I have vague concepts for Seasons Three and Four so I can start planting small hints and laying foundation now. The website was relaunched.

The Best Thing – I was struggling a bit with this story, mostly because as you guys know, I’ve tried really hard to do all the characters justice, including Sonny who’s struggling with a mental illness I’ve only seen on television. So I wanted to do more research into actual people who suffer from it, and how it might affect someone with Sonny’s specific personality. I also was feeling weary of writing it because I knew I had so much story left to go. Not that I don’t still love it, but sometimes when you’re writing a long story, you can start to get fatigued and it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

So I looked again at my plot and moved some things around and cut some things in order to keep the tension and the pace in the story moving along. I feel a lot better and cranked out four chapters in four days last weekend. I hope to do it again next week once I’ve put away more of Damaged, Season Two.

All We Are – A few weeks ago, I wrote Chapters 9-13 over a weekend, then I took a break, and in about three days, I finished the story. So, it’s seventeen chapters long with an epilogue. It still needs Cora to sign off on it and some cleaning up, but I’m going to start fixing up an ebook. I plan to post one chapter a week until about August 10, so hopefully the ebook will be ready by the end of the month so I can do a giveaway.

What’s Next?

Now that All We Are is finished and The Best Thing will be wrapping up soon, it is time to turn my attention to a story to work on next and to have ready to post when TBT is finished (I’m leaning towards posting it during the hiatus between Season Two and Three of Damaged).

I haven’t really settled on it, but I’m leaning towards Bittersweet, my summer of 2002 rewrite. There are a few reasons for this — while it’s not as developed as some of the other stories on my coming soon list, it’s set in 2002. For the last year, I’ve been pretty solidly set in 2003-2006, dealing with Ric, Sam, Courtney and all the stories that unfolded after Elizabeth walked out on Jason in October 2002. I’m a bit burnt out on this era, so I wanted a break.

So, I’m playing with Bittersweet today which has a ton of work done with it, but I haven’t pulled any of it together into a cohesive concept and outline. I may change my mind, but I think I’m pretty sold on this.

And once I have my breather from 2004 and 2006, I’ll be turning my attention to Mad World and Burn in Heaven, both of which are outlined and storyboarded, I just haven’t wanted to write them quite yet. So since I usually work on two stories at once, Bittersweet is taking All We Are‘s place and I think Mad World will likely settle into The Best Thing’s slot once I wrap it up.

All the other stories on the coming soon page are still in active development. I pick them up, play with outlines and scene ideas, but I haven’t found the sweet spot for any of them yet. Their time will come, I promise 🙂

July 8, 2015

Two things really. The Damaged site has been relaunched, though I’ve only readded six of eleven episodes. The last five will be added by Friday so that you’ll have an opportunity to either reread, catch up, or check the story out for the first time. The site also has some reader feedback features so you can better shape the future of the story 🙂

Second, The Best Thing will be back next week. This is definite. I have the chapters finished, they’re beta’d, they’re ready. I’m holding off another week because it’s been almost four months since I’ve posted it, and The Best Thing is long–very long at this point. It’s twenty-two chapters, more than two hundred pages and 80,000 words. So! This week would be a good time refresh yourself on the story.

You can either use the website, you can check it out on Fanfiction.net or at Archive of Our Own, or you can sit with your ereader and enjoy it in the comfort away from the internet with the in-progress ebook. I try to provide as many options as I can for reading my stories. I really reccommend refreshing yourself with some of the earlier details. We’re hitting the ground running next Wednesday and we’re not looking back. I may be bumping it up to two chapters a week once I finish posting All We Are on August 10 🙂

July 6, 2015

Updated with All We Are Chapter Twelve.

So I’m not going to lie. About this time last week, I could see July 15 approaching fast. I had publicly announced The Best Thing would return at that point, but I hadn’t quite finished another chapter. I really didn’t want to push it back.

And then something magical happened. I wrote four chapters in four days, which gives me an entire month of posts. And I made a decision to cut a section of the story that might have worked, but I think it might have dragged the story out as well. And it was causing my writing to drag as well. If it’s not working, cut it. I think it’ll shave one or two chapters off the total count. I’m excited for you to read some of those chapters I finished over this last weekend.

Damaged is still on schedule to return on July 18, so next week will be a return to constant posts from me. You have All We Are on Mondays, TBT on Wednesdays, and Damaged on Fridays. All We Are will be wrapping up by the end of the summer, I’m working on Chapter Fourteen now, and only have four more after that’s finished. If I can manage to finish it all by some time week, I’ll get the ebook formatted and put it up the way I normally do–with a giveaway.

The site was running slow for a while but I made some changes in hopes of maximizing performance. I did some upgrades and my host, Dreamhost, was actually super quick in making the biggest change — a database had to move servers or something. If you’re ever looking for a webhost, Dreamhost is amazing. Their basic plans are super cheap, and even my plan around $15 a month. Give them a looksee if you’re in the market. I’ve been with them since 2006 and can’t imagine going anywhere else.

Oh, and another thing! I was working on a scene for Chapter 14, All We Are, and I wanted to confirm a detail. So I turned to my trust Liason DVDS to help me out. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned CurlyQGrl’s DVDs. I’ve been buying GH DVDs from her since 1999, with my set of Lucky and Liz on VHS, ha. They were amazing, but lost in a housefire. While I was in London, I invested in replacing that set as well as obtaining my own Liason DVDs, some Scrubs edits, and a 2004 Elizabeth Returns DVD which has her interim storylines between the end of LiRic and the beginning of LL2.3 (which is my own personal code for her storyline with Greg’s Lucky.)

Her collection is vast and immense and goes back into GH history waaay into the 1980s. You should check her out.

This entry is part 12 of 18 in the All We Are

The human heart is a scary part in fact
‘Cause I could break you and you could break me back
Though my head says just forget it
You’ll get hurt and you’ll regret it
Ask me now and I won’t hesitate

Hesitate, Steve Moakler


Wednesday, December 6, 2006

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

 Against Elizabeth’s better judgment, she allowed the front desk to send Nikolas upstairs when they called. Lucky wasn’t allowed past the front doors, but Nikolas had treated her fairly so far.

And maybe she could convince Nikolas to get Lucky to drop his pursuit of Cameron and avoid the court hearing where she would have to admit to that night with Jason. She did not want to be cross-examined about her relationship with him. Not at the moment.

And honestly, not ever.

She and Jason had gingerly discussed Diane’s visit, but had reached no specific conclusion, only that any decision would be life-changing and required some more thought.

Cody opened the door, his expression skeptical. “Nikolas Cassadine. If you’re sure.”

Behind Cody, Nikolas merely rolled his eyes. Elizabeth gestured him forward. “We’ll be fine, Cody. Thanks.”

When the door was closed, Nikolas lifted his brow. “Some security there.”

“He doesn’t like people coming to my home in order to harass me.” Elizabeth sat on the sofa and gestured for Nikolas to take a seat as well. “I’m sorry, I know we haven’t spoken since that day at the rehab. I thought you might be angry with me.”

“Not angry,” Nikolas said after a moment as he considered his words. “Sad.”

She frowned, tilting her head. “Because of my choices?”

“Because you didn’t feel you could confide in me.” He leaned forward. “I know your issues with Emily at the moment, that you feel as though she’s taking Lucky’s side, and maybe she is to a certain extent.  I also know that you need to do right by you, and by your children. The divorce was a good idea.” His gaze flickered around the room. “I just—I don’t know about any of this.”

Some of the tension eased from her chest as she realized Nikolas had an open mind. “There were a lot of reasons why I did this,” Elizabeth said.

“I’m assuming Ric was one of them.” Nikolas rose and crossed to a shelf where a framed photo of her wedding sat. Jason and Elizabeth stood next to each other, each with smiles. Robin and Sonny on either side. It sat next to another photo from the ceremony itself—from their kiss at the end.

Sonny had given her the wedding photos at Thanksgiving, suggesting with a sly smile that putting some on display would be good in case the PCPD ever came knocking.

They both knew it was just an excuse. Her wedding had been beautiful, and she wanted to remember those moments with her friends, with the man she loved.

“I won’t say it wasn’t a factor,” Elizabeth murmured. She pressed her hand against the slight swell of her abdomen. Four months along, and only just beginning to show. “But you know it wasn’t all.”

“I read the papers,” Nikolas said. “And I’m not stupid.” He looked back at her. “You always turned to Jason in moments of crisis, in grief. In sorrow. It was this summer, when you found out about Maxie.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Elizabeth admitted, “but I’m not sorry.”

“I told Lucky that filing for custody was a bad idea.” Nikolas faced her, setting the photo down. “That the papers were probably right. And that it would be better for everyone if you and Jason raised Cameron with the new baby. Lucky should have a fresh start, and I worry that some of this might be triggers.” He hesitated. “I’m not blaming you, just—”

“You’re just stating the facts.” Elizabeth nodded. “I get it, Nikolas. I really do. I can see how this might be a setback, and I hope it isn’t. I don’t love him anymore, but I don’t wish Lucky ill. I just don’t want him near my children.”

“But Lucky worried that Cameron would remember him, and wonder why Lucky didn’t want him. He didn’t want him to have the same doubts Lulu has.” Nikolas paused. “Lulu loves Luke, but there’s no doubt that he hasn’t known what to do about her. She was our mother’s pride and joy. And she fears he didn’t want her so much as he wanted whatever our mother wanted.”

“I suppose.” Elizabeth shifted. “But it’s not enough of a reason to allow Lucky to be in Cam’s life. Not after what he put us through.”

“I suggested as much to Lucky, but you know how he can be.” Nikolas sighed. “So I’m hoping you and Jason can figure out how to stop a court hearing.” He sat in the arm chair. “Insisting on one is Lucky’s petty idea of revenge. He wants to put you on the stand and make you admit you wanted Jason, that it was always him. That there was some sort of affair.”

“He wants to humiliate me,” she murmured. “Jason and I surmised as much. I’m not much interested in it either, but I don’t know if we can make it stop. A paternity test for the baby seems straightforward, but Lucky would have to let go of visitation for Cameron on his own.”

“Jason should adopt Cameron,” Nikolas said bluntly. “The only reason a judge would even entertain giving Lucky any custodial rights is that Cameron doesn’t have a second parent with legal standing. It’s patriarchal nonsense, but I’m afraid with your history of divorce, a judge might think keeping at least one stable father in Cam’s life by force is the best bet. I don’t agree, but—”

“Jason and I are considering it,” Elizabeth interjected, bristling at the accusation but understanding Nikolas’s motives. “It’s not something you can just decide over lunch. You know how serious Jason takes these kinds of things. He’d be making a lifetime commitment to Cam. I mean, I’m not saying we plan to divorce—” She stopped. “I don’t know how that would stop a hearing.”

“If you and Jason filed the paperwork before the hearing is set,” Nikolas told her, “I’d have a better shot convincing Lucky to drop the suit. He has a slim chance now. It disappears entirely if Cam has a legal father who lives in the home full-time.”

He stood. “I know we may not be close going forward,” he told her. “But you know that I love you, and if you never need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

Her eyes burned with tears as she stood and accepted his hug. “Thank you, Nikolas. You have no idea how much it means to me to hear that from you.”

Greystone Manor: Living Room

Diane scowled at Sonny and Jason. “I cannot believe the two of you asked to meet with me when you damn well know I cannot discuss Elizabeth’s custody arrangements with either of you.” She huffed. “Does attorney client privilege not mean anything to anyone anymore?”

Sonny frowned. “I just wanted to make sure Elizabeth has everything she needs and you know she won’t tell me—”

“And I want Lucky to go away,” Jason said bluntly. He crossed his arms. “They’re not just Elizabeth’s arrangements. Cameron—” He hesitated. “Diane. I’m serious.”

“Then ask your wife,” Diane retorted. “You live in the same home, I presume. She knows the status.” But she paused, remembering who she was talking to.

Men. Insufferable jackasses.

“I responded to Spencer’s attorney this morning,” Diane said. “I sent a copy of the paternity, offering to have another test performed after the birth of the child if his client was so inclined. There isn’t much I can do regarding Cameron Webber. Legally, it’s a gray area. Stepparents rarely have legal standing, but courts look kindly on petitions by former stepparents because they want to preserve the stability of the child.”

“Stability.” Sonny snorted and moved away, to pour himself a tumbler of water. Too early for bourbon, Diane thought sourly.

“I laughed at the notion in the response,” Diane told them. “Cameron has the stability of two parents at the moment.” She studied Jason. “Though I’ve told you already how to improve the situation.”

“I wanted to talk to Cameron about it,” Jason admitted. “He considers Lucky his father. I’m his mother’s husband. I’m his friend. But I don’t know how he’d feel if those roles changed.”

And responses like that were the reason Diane couldn’t stay mad at him. Adorable bastard. “Well, then you need to have that conversation with him. The sooner you file paperwork, the sooner I can scare the crap out of Spencer. If Elizabeth walks into that court and presents a normal nuclear family with Mom, Dad, child, and baby, the judge is going to laugh Lucky out of court. You might be an alleged criminal, but he’s an actual drug addict.”

She looked at them. “Now, if we can put away the reality show nonsense, I’ve been digging into Scott Baldwin. My sources in the DA’s office tell me he’s working on something, but he’s keeping it close to the vest.”

“Against us or Elizabeth?” Jason asked.

“Hard to say. He’s not working with the PCPD so much as he and Mac have their heads together. The problem with Scott Baldwin is he’s a good lawyer. A damn good lawyer,” Diane said. When Sonny rolled his eyes, she scowled. “Don’t underestimate him. He made some mistakes and that deal with Ric Lansing was beyond the pale, but it doesn’t change anything.  If Scott puts his head down, and doesn’t rush into anything, he’s a formidable foe.”

She turned her attention to Jason. “If he comes after Elizabeth on these drug charges, it’ll be because he knows he can break privilege. Because he knows a judge won’t toss him out. He doesn’t have Ric’s notes, but he has a brain. He knows they were trying to flip her. Which means she probably knows something.”

Sonny’s expression had shifted into trepidation. “Do you think they’re working out a way to flip her on me?”

“It’s possible,” Diane allowed. “I don’t see how they could do it at the moment. Elizabeth’s involvement comes through Jason, and they’re protected by privilege. They can’t break that. They can’t challenge it.” She looked at Jason. “You two have done a good job of being married, by the way. And the fact she’s knocked up by you makes it almost impossible for a court to say you’re faking.”

Jason scowled. “Don’t talk about her that way—”

“Exactly my point.” Diane jabbed a finger at him. “This is not a case of you and Brenda Barrett managing not to murder one another long enough to avoid jail.  There’s history with you and Elizabeth. So I’m not overtly worried about Scott breaking marital privilege.”

“But?” Sonny prompted.

“I don’t know,” Diane admitted. “There’s something about this that doesn’t feel good to me.” She paused. “What if…” And hell. “What if Scott uses these drug charges to flip Jason?”

Sonny frowned in confusion, but Jason’s eyes narrowed. He understand Diane’s point exactly. “Can he do that?” Jason demanded.

“Do what?” Sonny demanded. “How could he flip Jason? Jason’s not involved in this—”

“No,” Diane allowed. “But he might be invested in not letting the mother of his children go to jail.” She pursed her lips. “Technically, it borders on illegal. It’s one thing to flip one defendant against another, but a third party not facing charges? It would violate the Ethics Code.”

“But you think he could do it.”

“I think Scott wants Sonny’s head on a platter,” Diane said. “We tied his hands when it came to using Elizabeth against Jason. But it wouldn’t surprise me if Scott was trying anyway.”

“It’s too risky.” Sonny dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “The drug charges are weak—you said so yourself. All of this happened to keep Elizabeth out of the grand jury. None of us were seriously worried about the charges.”

“No,” Diane allowed. “And I’m still not.” She was quiet for a moment, her mind racing. She couldn’t stand not knowing what Scott Baldwin was planning. It would be too risky for Scott’s career to go after Elizabeth in order to scare the shit out of Jason, but just maybe… “Thanks to Ric,” she said slowly, “Scott Baldwin can surmise that Elizabeth knows something about Jason’s criminal activities. Would it be so much of a stretch to think she knows something about yours?”

“But she doesn’t—” Sonny began, but then he faltered. “Does she?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said. “I’ve never—I’ve never considered it. She’s…seen a lot,” he admitted. “But most of it is related to me.”

“But maybe not,” Sonny said with a sigh. “She and I were in contact while you were out of town. I put a guard on her. I can’t guess what she might have seen and not spoken about.” He smiled, almost sadly. “Her loyalty has never been in question, though I didn’t always remember that.”

“So which is it?” Jason demanded. “Is he going to try to flip me or Elizabeth?”

“I don’t know,” Diane said. “But he’s up to something, and you’ll have to be ready.” She reached for her briefcase. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

As she left the estate, she wondered which tactic Scott would take and how her clients would respond. Would Elizabeth go to trial on her own charges to refuse to testify against Sonny?

Would Jason flip on Sonny to protect Elizabeth?

No matter how it shook out, Diane was going to have to drop one of her clients. Their interests were about to conflict, and she could hardly to tell one to sell the other down the road.

It would be interesting to see how it would turn out.

Morgan Penthouse: Cameron’s Room

Jason finished the last words in the chapter they were reading and set the closed book on the night stand. “Can we talk for second before we go on to the next chapter?”

Cameron, still sitting cross-legged in his race car pajamas on his new race car bed, nodded. “Uh huh. What about?”

“Um.” Jason hesitated. He hadn’t cleared this conversation with Elizabeth first, and now he thought maybe he should.  He wanted to protect Cameron from Lucky Spencer to be sure, but mostly, he just wanted Cameron to be his.

“You know your mother and I are married,” he began, shifting on the bed. “And you’re going to have a brother or sister soon.”

“Yup.” Cameron nodded. “I’m gonna be awesome at it.”

“I know you are, buddy.” Jason ruffled his dark hair with a smile. “And you know—the baby is—I’m going to be the baby’s daddy.”

Cameron frowned a bit, but nodded. “Okay. Right. Because you’re married and married people have babies.”

Because that explanation was simpler than the truth, Jason nodded. “Your mom and I—we were thinking about you. And we—I—wondered if you…” How did a man ask a four-year-old if he wanted a new father?

“Does that make you my new daddy?” Cameron asked, with a skeptical eye. “I have a daddy, right? I think. I don’t see him much.” He looked down, “Mommy said he was real sick and wouldn’t come around no more.”

“That’s—that’s true,” Jason allowed. “Would—would you mind if we signed some papers that said I was your dad? You—” His throat was tight. “You wouldn’t have to call me Dad. I mean, you could if you wanted to—” He was close to babbling. Damn it, he should have had Elizabeth here for this.

“Do you want to be my dad?” Cameron asked. “Do people change daddies a lot?” He frowned. “Am I going to have another one someday?”

“No,” Jason said firmly. “If we sign these papers, if we make this decision, Cam, I promise you, we won’t ever change again.”

Cameron wrinkled his nose, his expression almost identical to Elizabeth’s in that moment. “And you wouldn’t stop being around? I like playing cars and reading books.” He shrugged. “My first daddy didn’t. Mommy said he was always working.”

“I would always be around,” Jason told him. And he was going to keep that promise. His responsibilities with Sonny had shifted once the paternity test results came back. He would be a father. And nothing was more important to him. “Just like Mommy is.”

Could I call you Daddy?” Cameron asked. “I mean,” he said, with wide eyes, “the new baby might not know what to call you if I didn’t—”

“Nothing would make me happier,” Jason told him. “What do you think?”

Cameron climbed into his lap and wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck, hugging him. “Okay. I’ll sign papers, too.” He leaned back, and smiled broadly. “Daddy.”

Jason’s chest tightened as he gripped Cameron’s head and pressed a kiss to the top. “I love you, Cameron.”

“I love you, too.” Cameron’s grin slid into a smirk. “Can I have a real race car like Morgan?”

Jason laughed. “We’ll see what happens at Christmas.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

 Elizabeth twisted at her vanity table, the brush in her hand falling to the ground. “You asked Cameron?”

Jason drew on a pair of sweat pants, balling up his jeans and shirt to toss in the hamper. “Yeah. I mean, I guess we should have talked about it together with him or talked about what we were going to say to him, I’m sorry—”

“I’m not…” Elizabeth rose, his old blue t-shirt falling halfway down her thighs. “I just—I wasn’t thinking about asking him.” Tears glittered in her eyes. “I should have. It should be his decision. You always seem to know exactly how to handle him.”

Jason shrugged. “It just—it seemed right. He had a father. If he didn’t want me, then we’d figure out another way to deal with things. But—” He looked at her. “Why did you think we hadn’t made a decision?”

“I—” Elizabeth hesitated. “I suppose I thought you were thinking it over. It’s not an easy decision to take on another man’s son—”

“I’ve never considered Cameron in that light,” Jason cut in. “He’s your son. Not Lucky’s. Not Zander’s. You’ve raised him. I love him, you know that. And it was easy for me.” He paused. “I just didn’t—I didn’t know if you’d want it.”

“To give my son an amazing father?” Elizabeth blinked. “Jason, I told you—from the moment I found out I was pregnant, all I could pray for was you to be the father. I saw you with Michael. I see you now with Cameron.” She stepped towards him. “I wanted to give you a child. Why would I hesitate to give you Cameron?”

“I—” Jason faltered. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I mean…” he exhaled slowly. “It’s one thing for us to be having this baby together…” He gestured towards her in the space that remained between them. “That’s a situation that existed before everything else, and exists regardless of it. But—” He paused and swallowed. “But to be married, to adopt your other child—it’s—it’s saying something.” He looked at her, his eyes soft. Open. Even vulnerable. “About where we’re going. And what we want our future to be like.”

Elizabeth closed the distance between them, sliding her arms around his waist. “I want my future to be with you,” she told him. “And I want my children to be yours.”

When he kissed her, closing his mouth over hers, almost devouring her, his hands in her hair—she knew that while neither of them had said the actual words, they’d made promises here every bit as important as the ones they had made the day they married.

A week later, Scott Baldwin called Diane to discuss a plea agreement in advance of filing charges against Elizabeth for theft of narcotics, drug possession, and obstruction of justice.

July 1, 2015

Hey! Just a note for Damaged readers. When I posted the final episode for Season One a few weeks ago, I mentioned I would be taking the site offline in order to redesign it for the next season, add more content, and reformat the previous episodes to better fit the format. Damaged is offline as of today, but will return on Monday, July 13, 2015 so everyone can get accustomed to the new layout. Damaged, Season Two: Prodigal Son will be posted Friday, July 17.

However, with the help of Cora, I’ve taken the initial group of episodes, edited them, and reformatted them into eleven episodes that compromise the new season. You can wait to read them in their new format when the site reopens or check out the ebook I’ve created for that purpose.

I know the site may have been slow over the last week, maybe even longer. I get a decent amount of regular visitors every day and with the site being powered by WordPress, I’m using a lot of processes on my server. It was an issue about six months ago and I moved servers. Apparently, we’ve outgrown our old settings and I’ve had to upgrade again.  I’ll know in about a week of it’s been a good use of the money. Hopefully 🙂