You tell me it gets better, it gets better in time
You say I’ll pull myself together, pull it together
You’ll be fine
Tell me what the hell do you know
What do you know
Tell me how the hell could you know
How could you know
– Til It Happens To You, Lady Gaga

---

Sunday, September 14, 2003

PCPD: Conference Room

Kelsey lifted her brows in surprise as Taggert set down the phone. “Did I hear you right? Jason Morgan is on his way up with Elizabeth Webber?”

“I’m not sure he’s ever come here voluntarily, much less without representation,” Taggert admitted. They both got to their feet when the door opened, and Elizabeth and Jason were led in.

Once they were settled, Elizabeth let out a shaky breath. It wasn’t the same room—the old PCPD had burned down the year previous. They weren’t even in an interrogation room. It wouldn’t be like before.

“Let me tell you a few things before we get started,” Taggert told her. “When you gave your statement the first time, it was still early in your investigation. To be honest, none of us working here had much more than rudimentary training for dealing with these kinds of crimes.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Is that to explain what happened with my rape kit?” she asked. “The mistakes made?”

“I meant…” Taggert paused. “There are things we could have done differently. For example, you came in a few times to add to your statement, but we never took you through it all the way again. All the workshops say witnesses remember more details in these kinds of crimes after some time—”

“Because we’re still processing it,” Elizabeth nodded. When he frowned at her, she shrugged. “I’ve had therapy, Taggert. It’s kind of like your workshops. I stopped going after that fire at the garage, but Gail and I worked out a lot of things I never thought I’d remember.”

“That’s why I need you to go through it from the top,” he said. I’m not asking to torture you or be cruel. But we’ve taken all the—” he hesitated.

“You’re trying so hard not to say victims.” And the consideration of that…it relaxed her slightly. “I was a victim. I’m not now. But we all were, and I know that’s also a legal term. You can use it.”

“Right.” Taggert looked to Jason briefly before turning back to her. “We’ve taken all the victims through it again. We might do it one more time. So, this might not be the only time we talk.” He nodded to Kelsey who pressed record on a tape recorder sitting in the middle of the table.

There were a few legal things—and she could feel Jason tensing next her as she signed some paperwork. It went against everything he believed in to sign papers without a lawyer for the cops, but she trusted Taggert. On this anyway.

“Okay, let’s start at the top,” he told her.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, leaned back in her chair, and under the table, reached for Jason’s hand just to hold it for a moment. He squeezed back.

“I went to the movies that night,” she said. “I’d lied to my grandmother, my sister, my friends. I’d told them I was going to the dance with a football player who didn’t know I existed.” Her mouth twisted. “It seems so silly now…that lie. As soon as I’d said it, I knew I was digging a hole. He’d be at the dance, and Lucky and Sarah would see him. They’d know I lied.  And God, the thought of going home to face…

“So, when the movies were over, I still had an hour left before I could go home and not be interrogated by my grandmother. I didn’t think she’d wait up for me. So, I walked home through the park. God it was so cold, and I had these stupid strappy heels on. I can still feel the snow soaking my stockings as I went through the park.”

“You stopped at the fountain on the southern edge of the park. Was that where you entered the park?” Taggert asked.

She frowned at the question but was grateful at the detail it had brought back to her. “Oh. No. That’s…the side of the park where it borders Central Avenue. A lot of buses run past there, and I was going to take one home. I came in from the opposite side. I guess, from the north. It was across the street from the movie theater. I had crossed most of the park by then.”

Had been just yards away from the park entrance.

“I stopped because the walk had only taken ten minutes and it seemed so important to kill more time. I didn’t want to go to a cafe or diner—what if someone from school was there? And I didn’t have a story yet to cover where I’d been. How to explain my lies to Lucky or Sarah.” Elizabeth looked down at her fingernails, at the chipped red nail polish she never remembered to remove or reapply.

“So, I stopped at the fountain. There was a bench, and I had my leftover popcorn. I thought…I’ll sit here for about ten minutes and maybe I could get away with going home early. I could lie to my grandmother about it. Or maybe…God maybe I would have just told her the truth. I think I was close to just saying to hell with it, and maybe Gram would have—”

At the thought of her beloved grandmother, her voice broke and she dipped her head.

“Do you want to take a break?” Taggert’s voice broke through. She felt Jason turning towards her, his arm along the back of her chair.

“No, no. Just…my grandmother.” She accepted the tissue Kelsey offered her and took another deep breath. “I don’t know how long I sat there. It felt like hours, but it could have been seconds.”

She couldn’t look at Taggert, couldn’t turn to Jason, or even look at Kelsey who was a relative stranger. So, she looked between the two of them, at the window across the room.

“I was yanked back before I felt the hand on my mouth—I couldn’t scream, but I held on to the bench. I tried so hard, but it was stone and—” She held up her hand, looking at it. “I broke nails. One of them was completely gone, and it was hell hiding that. I had to lie about closing my hand in the door.

“But it wasn’t enough,” she murmured. “He was so strong…” Elizabeth had to take a moment. To just…breathe. “He dragged me into the bushes—there weren’t leaves and the branches scratched at my legs. I kept struggling. I tried to fight. I don’t know…what happened to my coat. It was gone. I never did…find it.

“He threw me on the ground. Hard. It was so cold…. He grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head into the ground.” She closed her eyes again, trying to put herself back in that moment. She’d gone through it with Gail in therapy but there were things even Gail didn’t know.

“He let me go…just briefly—I could feel his weight lift off me for a second, and I tried to get myself together to scream, but I couldn’t. Everything hurt, and it was just this ugly horrible blur. I wanted to curl up and just…go away. But he grabbed my hands and he held them over my head.” She rubbed at her wrists. “I tried to kick, tried to get away, but then he shoved me on my stomach—” She looked at Taggert. “He handcuffed me. My hands were behind my back—and I—I don’t know how I forgot that. I didn’t remember that until…months later, but I don’t know how I could have forgotten. The metal was freezing. And then he shoved me on my back again, my shoulders—it hurt so much to move for days. To lift my arms.

“I tried to kick him again and I think I must have hurt him because he slapped me. And then…” Her voice trembled, and she did look at Jason this time. His eyes were wet as they met his, and something about that broke her. He never let Taggert see any emotion, and this—because he was hurting for her, he wasn’t protecting himself.

“He smelled my hair. It was a little shorter then…” Her stomach rolled as bile rose in her throat. “He put his face down next to my ear, but it was just to say something. He was—in my hair. Smelling it, rubbing it against his cheek.”

Without a word, Kelsey slid a bottle of water across the table and Elizabeth took it, taking a long gulp as if that could make it go away.

“Do you need a break?” Taggert asked again, but this time his voice sounded rusty.

“No, we’re…it’s almost done.” She rubbed her chest. “That’s when he said not a word in my ear. His breath smelled like soap. Clean. I didn’t remember the stuff about the hair until after I stopped going to therapy. I remembered it when Lucky came home. I couldn’t look at my hair then, I almost dyed it, but then people would have asked, so I just—I chopped it as short as I could.”

She took a deep breath. “That’s not relevant, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t but she just shook her head. Had to get this out. “He pulled down the top of my dress—that’s when he ripped one of the straps. And he touched my…my breasts. Squeezed them so hard I had bruises there, too. I think I was a walking bruise for weeks. And then—I heard a rip, and it must have been my—because he was just…”

The stabbing pain came back to her then, but Elizabeth was ready for it. She shoved it aside. “He was inside of me. It felt like hours, but it really wasn’t. I don’t know. I just…it was happening. And then it was over, and I was crying. And then he…I don’t know. He tried to pull my dress up, and he was sweating. Panting, I thought. But I think…” She frowned. “It sounded like crying, but that’s not possible, right? I mean, that doesn’t make sense. I heard Lucky’s voice. Calling my name.”

She dipped her head. “I never told Lucky that it was…it was that close. That I don’t know what would have happened if Lucky hadn’t come along. Maybe he would have killed me. But he just uncuffed me and ran. I laid there a few minutes, trying to just…and then Lucky was closer. He was right there, and I thought…I had to get to him, because it would be over if I could just…so I crawled.”

She fell silent and looked at Taggert. “Is that what you were looking for?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Um…” He scratched his cheek, looked at Kelsey. “Any questions?”

“Would you be willing to let us talk to Gail Baldwin?” Kelsey asked. “If you remembered this in pieces and in therapy, she’d have notes. And it would corroborate the timing of it. That you remembered before you knew it was…”

“Because there are things that happened to me that happened to the others.”

“Yeah,” Kelsey admitted. “I can’t…be more specific at this time, but it will be helpful—”

“I’ll sign a release.” Elizabeth sighed exhaled slowly, because somehow…knowing that the entire story had been told—that it was on tape—that she wasn’t the only one with these memories now—some of the darkness swirling inside had dissipated. “You said it wasn’t Baker. That he’d been excluded.”

“Yeah.” Taggert furrowed his brow. “The DNA didn’t match. Why?”

“I just…” Elizabeth chewed her bottom lip. “It just seemed so…he seemed to know what I was talking about. He didn’t even…skip a beat. And…I went to see him in prison a few months later. After he’d been sentenced. And he said something about my red dress. But maybe…” Elizabeth sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe he just took a lucky guess.”

Taggert frowned but nodded. “Maybe. That’s all we needed from you right now. I know with everything else you’re dealing with, Liz, that it couldn’t have been easy to do this. Thank you.”

“Just promise me you won’t give up this time.”

Elizabeth and Jason left without giving Taggert a chance to respond. She’d had enough.

Gate House: Living Room

Ned grimaced when he found Scott Baldwin standing on his doorstep, but he stepped back to allow the district attorney to enter. “What do you want?”

“You know, what happened to your daughter—” Scott shook his head. “It makes me sick, Ned. It makes me sick that I couldn’t do more. I didn’t know how bad the case was screwed up—but—” He hesitated. “I should have.”

“You said all of this in July. If that’s all you have—” Ned started to open the door, but Scott remained planted in his spot by the sofa. “What is it?”

“Floyd can’t win in November. I can’t serve another term under him. I thought about resigning but God only knows who he’d put in my place.” Scott scowled. “So, I’m gonna do what someone should have done a long time ago. I’m gonna give you the ammunition you need to put him in the ground, but you can’t tell anyone I’ve leaked information in an ongoing investigation.”

Ned growled at him. “I don’t want to know anything that’s going to compromise that case—”

“It won’t. It’ll just show this goddamn city how corrupt Floyd is, how corrupt he makes the people working for him, and how easy it is for him to sacrifice everyone else for his power.” Scott took a deep breath. “Floyd threatened to fire Mac if he didn’t close Elizabeth Webber’s rape case in the fall of 1998. Edward was making threats about funding another candidate in the ‘99 election so Floyd wanted the Baker case to go away.”

Ned just stared at him, shaking his head. “Why does—” He stopped as the realization began to spread throughout his body. “Are you—what do you mean he closed her case?”

“I mean that Mac put her case in the closed storage without running the rape kit that would have cleared Tom Baker of her rape. And because everyone assumed his confession was true, the bastard went on to keep raping women. Including…”

“Including my daughter.”

The fury all but consumed him, made him dizzy. He put a hand against the wall to brace himself. “I don’t understand. How—”

“Taggert figured it out when he pulled Elizabeth’s case after he linked the other cases. He found a falsified lab report stating the kit was negative and was livid when he realized her case had been moved from cold storage. He had put it there himself. He reopened her case and also found two other victims. This bastard kept raping because Mac and Floyd made her case go away.”

And now his daughter was dead.

“Because Grandfather—” Ned squeezed his eyes shut, his brain screaming. Because Edward had gone through the roof when Emily had been held hostage by Tom Baker. Had been livid when the trial began, and Elizabeth Webber had made her outcry. He’d been so angry—

And Ned knew—Christ, he knew Floyd had been under pressure from the Quartermaines.

“I called him,” Ned said faintly. “I’m the one—I made the call. Grandfather told me to do it, but I made the contact. I told Floyd that we wanted to make sure that Baker’s case was handled by the book. We wanted him to go away. Whatever he had to do.”

Oh, God. He’d never meant…

“Ned—”

“I didn’t—we didn’t know about Elizabeth’s attack. Emily didn’t tell us. And it wasn’t in the papers. Not until the trial. And then…then Grandfather was so upset. He wanted to make sure that Steve’s granddaughter got justice. I called Mac personally, and he told me—”

His chest was on fire as he forced the words out. “He told me that there just wasn’t enough—he lied to me.”

“Everyone believed the confession, so they figured what harm would it do. Investigating it might have taken two or three months — Baker might have dragged out the trial into election season. Floyd wanted it to go away. And after the Quartermaines contacted him again, Floyd had Mac create the lab report in case anyone ever came looking.”

“But no one did. No one gave it a second thought. And he raped six more women.” Ned slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, looking helplessly up at Scott. “He raped my daughter. And now she’s dead. Because I made a phone call.”

“Bullshit to that.” Scott sliced his hand through the air. “Bullshit to all of that. You want to blame yourself for wanting Emily to have justice? For making sure Floyd knew the Quartermaines were watching? Any other man with a fucking conscience would have pushed back and told you there were other charges. Edward would have backed down. Your family might be ruthless and insane, but not one of you would have fed Elizabeth Webber to the wolves for Emily’s sake. Any other man would have told Edward and you about the rape case.”

“But Floyd didn’t.”

“And when he was faced with the serial rapist this summer, he tried to bury it. But it didn’t work.” Scott hesitated. “I know who leaked the investigation when Brooke was attacked. He leaked the attacks, not her name, Ned. Because he was angry. Because he wanted justice. And then when the mayor’s office got the first request for comment, I think Floyd put your daughter’s name out there. Because he’s the only one who benefited from having the spotlight on the PCPD and on your family.”

Ned took a deep breath and got to his feet. “Does Elizabeth know?”

“Taggert told her last night the case was re-opened, and she had questions about the rape kit. I think she’s curious what happened.”

“Then I think it’s time I tell her.” Ned lifted his chin. “And if she’s okay with it, I will use this to raze this city to the ground.”

Luke’s: Office

In the back office, while Claude was manning the bar, Lucky was leaning back in his chair, staring that ceiling. He’d gone into work for a little while that afternoon and discovered Elizabeth’s statement had been transcribed.

He’d sat down to read it, to see if he could offer any details or clarification because he knew how little she’d remembered about her attack.

Only to realize just how much of the horror she’d never told him about.

Kelsey knocked on the open door and waited a moment at the threshold. “Hey. Taggert called me. He said you’d stopped in. You saw her statement.”

“Yeah.”

She nodded, then walked in and rounded the desk. She set her briefcase down and leaned against the desk. “You didn’t listen to the tape, did you?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “No. I didn’t—once I got to the end—” He shook his head. “She never…she was never able to do that before. You know? She couldn’t get through the details back then. I never—it’s stupid. It’s not about me.”

“No, but you went through it with her. And you’ve been remembering more and more of it in the last few months. It makes it now instead of then.” She tipped her head to the side. “I don’t even know her, and it was a hard statement to sit through. Sitting there, watching her relive it. But she’s strong, Lucky.”

“Yeah. She always was.”

“Are we interrupting?”

Lucky and Kelsey looked to find Dante and Cruz sauntering into the office. “Hey. I didn’t know you guys were off tonight,” Lucky said. He sat up and Kelsey straightened away from the desk.

“We were signing out for the night when we saw Elizabeth Webber made her statement. After we read it over…” Cruz shrugged. “Dante figured you might need to talk.” He grinned at Kelsey. “I guess we weren’t the only ones.”

“I can’t believe how much her statement sounds like Brooke’s attack,” Dante said as he sprawled out in one of Luke Spencer’s battered armchairs. “How did they not know?”

“Her original statement wasn’t that detailed,” Cruz reminded him. He shrugged and sat on the bench that stretched out along the wall next to the door. “That’s why you do follow-ups with cops who aren’t assholes.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dante grimaced. “Vinnie’s original interviews are bad. I mean, I know he’s worried about being a scapegoat for Floyd, and Taggert said he’d watch out for him, but I don’t know…maybe he should be held responsible.”

He looked at Kelsey who had remained quiet so far. “What do you think?”

“I think Vinnie Esposito is a crappy cop,” Kelsey offered bluntly. “With poor training and not enough experience. I also think he’s a misogynistic asshole. To be honest, I’ll be surprised if he makes it out of this investigation without being written up.”

“What about the fact that the guy didn’t beat Elizabeth Webber like he did the rest of them?” Cruz asked. “Do you think that’s because she was the first and he was just…” He grimaced. “Figuring out what he liked?”

“I scared him off,” Lucky said dully. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “She said so in her statement. He didn’t get the chance.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dante told him. “Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

“My voice scared the guy off,” Lucky repeated. He closed his eyes. “But that means I should have heard him running away. I could have caught him—”

“And I could’ve been President if you listen to my mother,” Dante shook his head. “Look at it this way—her case doesn’t match the others, right? I mean, she wasn’t left unconscious and beaten nearly to a pulp. Because you stopped it.”

“Maybe.” Lucky sat up, then squinted at him. “Maybe. But maybe not.”

“What do you mean?” Kelsey asked as Lucky got up and crossed the room to dig through a box in the corner. “What is that?”

“I’ve been taking my own notes and bringing them home to think about the case when I’m not at the station. I read over all the victim statements and you’re right. Elizabeth doesn’t match the others.” He flipped through a notebook he brought back to his desk. “This thing about the hair. She didn’t remember that then. She only remembered he smelled like soap and that he said not a word.”

“Which he said to, what, four of the other victims?” Cruz squinted at him. “So?”

Kelsey frowned at him, her eyes narrowing with interest. “You think there’s something to the hair, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. He’s always saying they’re not right. Did he say that to Elizabeth? Or maybe she just doesn’t remember then.”

“You’ve got a point. Let me think it over. I think there’s something there.” She looked at Cruz. “What do you think?”

“I think Lucky’s got a point. Elizabeth’s the first known victim. Her case is different. We should be looking at how they’re different.”

Lucky nodded. “All of the victims after Elizabeth say the first thing, he did was handcuff them. But he doesn’t do that with Elizabeth.”

Dante nodded, “Okay. Maybe he learned from her.” He looked at Lucky. “But she still got handcuffed. How could she have forgotten that?”

“She was in denial at first. It took time for her to even admit what had happened even though I knew it right away. It was hell even getting her to go to Mercy to have the rape kit, to turn over her dress—that’s not my point. If we’re right, and the handcuffing wasn’t his first choice—”

“Then why did—” Dante exhaled slowly. “Why did he have handcuffs in the first place? Jesus, are you telling me you think it was a cop?”

“Or a security guard. One of those rent a cops. They hired them at the Harwin for a while back in 1997 and 1998. There were a lot of burglaries. I remember reading them in the papers. They had a bunch of officers on Central Avenue where the hotel was, but the Harwin and the businesses on the other side of the park hired a bunch of security firms to patrol the area.”

“Yeah, and sometimes they carry handcuffs to detain people until the cops get there. It’s not really legal, but we usually don’t bat an eye at it.”

Kelsey took a deep breath, looked at the trio of friends. “We’re going to run down every lead, guys. Even if it takes us to places we don’t really want to go.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth had convinced Jason to take them to the PCPD on his bike, though he’d initially protested. Elizabeth had reminded him that Kelly had told them to let Elizabeth set her own limits and that she could do whatever she’d done before, at least for a while.

So, after she’d finished giving her statement, without being asked, Jason had taken them both on a ride on the cliff roads, to let the wind and the roar of the motorcycle clear their heads and try to put it out of their minds.

It worked. At least until they returned to the Towers parking garage and made their way upstairs to the penthouse. Jason nodded to the guard on duty in the hallway, but he and Elizabeth still didn’t say anything to each other when they were alone in the living room.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said after a long moment in which they stood there, looking at one another. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come—”

“It’s—” Jason shook his head, looked away. “I knew before that night at Jake’s—before you told me. I knew what you’d been through. Logically. Until these last weeks—until that letter from Baker and what’s happened to Brooke—I don’t think I ever really understood it.” He sighed. “And to listen to you go through it, it just—I don’t understand men who hurt women. And I hate that it happened to you. I hate that it’s still happening.”

He shook his head again. “But this isn’t about me.”

“We’ve already talked about this, Jason. Yes. The rape exists in my head, and it’s not as locked away as it used to be. I hate that this case is open again, but maybe this time they’ll do it right.” She put her hands on his shoulders, sliding her fingers down to his elbows, then back up again. “It was hard back then, thinking that it had ruined my life. That I was never going to be able to fall in love and be normal. But Lucky, then you—you both proved to me I had so much more to give. And I’m okay. I’m not alone.”

He dipped his head down, let his forehead rest against hers. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The phone on the desk rang then, and Jason sighed before pulling away to answer it. “Yeah?” He frowned. “Really? Okay. Send him up.”

He looked at Elizabeth, a bit bewildered. “Ned’s downstairs. He says he needs to talk to both of us.”

“Oh, man, I wonder if he found out about the first three cases.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Maybe he wants me to make a statement or something.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I know, I know. You want me to avoid stress.” She held her wrist out to him. “Go ahead, check my pulse.”  She was joking, but Jason clearly wasn’t.

By the time Ned reached the door, Jason was satisfied that her pulse rate was normal and had let her sit down.

“I’m sorry to just show up,” Ned told them when he closed the door. “But I just—I had a source leak some details about my daughter’s investigation.”

“Taggert came to talk to us last night,” Elizabeth said as Ned sat down in the armchair. “I know my case was reopened. That the case count is up to seven.”

“I’m glad he finally let you in on it, but did he explain what happened to your rape kit?” Ned pressed.

Elizabeth exchanged a troubled look with Jason. “Is that what your source told you? How my kit was messed up?”

“I need your okay before I go public with this,” Ned said, “because what I’m about to tell you is going to ensure that Garrett Floyd’s days as mayor are done.”

Today was gonna be the day
But they’ll never throw it back to you
By now you should’ve somehow
Realized what you’re not to do
I don’t believe that anybody
Feels the way I do, about you now
– Wonderwall, Oasis

---

Saturday, September 13, 2003

Warehouse: Jason’s Office

Jason held Carly’s elbow as she slowly lowered herself to the dingy sofa in his office. “I would have come to you—”

“I’m eight months pregnant, not dying,” Carly muttered. “And Dr. Meadows thinks it’s a good idea if I keep active for as long as I can stand it.” She sighed. “And since Courtney left for Manhattan last month, Sonny spends a lot less time here in the mornings so I knew it would be clear.”

“Yeah, one of the guards told me you’d taken a suitcase and Michael to the Brownstone,” Jason told her, taking a seat next her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize things were so bad with Sonny.” He shook his head. “I should have. All I do with him is argue these days and it’s always the same thing.”

“Yeah, well, I guess we both thought he’d eventually come around.” Carly bit her lip. “Has Sonny tried to go after Ric? Did he—he did tell you—I mean, I know I’m not supposed to ask about business—”

“Once,” Jason asked after a long time. “I told him no. He gave the order to Johnny who also refused.”

Carly closed her eyes. “And neither of you got in trouble for that?”

“I sent Johnny to the island to deal with security down there for a while until Sonny cools off, but no. At the end of the day, even if Sonny wanted to, there aren’t a lot of the guys who are willing to—” Jason shook his head. “Why does it matter?”

“Well, for one, all this time I thought he was angry at me because he couldn’t go after Ric. It turns out he was already ignoring what I needed from him, and he was angry with everyone else.” Carly exhaled slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. “He’s not well, Jason. A year ago, I thought he trusted me. He brought me into the plan to fake his death and he gave me a role to play. He listened to me. He took suggestions to get through that. But—”

“Yeah. He’s been having a rough time of it since you went missing, but I don’t know. Maybe it started when he found out about Ric and his mother.” Jason rubbed his chest. “He always blamed himself for his mother’s death, you know. And then you get kidnapped because of him. Elizabeth nearly dies because she’s trying to help him. He always takes on the weight of the world.”

“I know that, Jason. I do. And I’ve let him get away with it. You and I—we’ve made him a priority in a way that I just…don’t want to do anymore, you know?” She absently rubbed her belly. “Michael deserves better. This new baby deserves better from me. And Jason, you deserve better, too.” She looked at him. “What did the doctor say yesterday?”

Jason sighed and got up to pace across the room. “That Elizabeth should be able to carry the baby to term without a lot of problems as long as we monitor her health and avoid stress. The doctor seemed to think most of the risk would come after delivery.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Carly asked. “I mean, she and I are never going to be friends, but I know what she went through. She did it for you mostly, but I’m still free because of her.” She bit her lip. “Jason, we have to stop letting what Sonny needs be the most important thing in the world to us. You need to put Elizabeth first. I need to put my kids first.”

“Yeah, I know. I know that.”

“But doing it is a lot harder than it looks.” She hesitated. “Listen, there’s something else you should know. Sonny made some threats against Scott Baldwin.”

Jason blinked, shook his head, and looked at her. “No. That’s not—he wouldn’t—”

“Exactly. He wouldn’t. If he were thinking clearly. He wants Ric to go away, and right now, you and I are standing in his way. He can’t do anything to us, and I don’t believe he ever would. So, he’s blaming the next best thing.”

“Going after a DA—that’s suicide. There’s not a man alive in this organization—” He shook his head again. “No one is going to agree to do that. Not over something like this.”

“And the fact that he couldn’t even get anyone to go after Ric gives me a lot of relief, because that means Scott will be safe. I know you guys gave Courtney grief when she called the police, and I get it, but Scott means a lot to my mother and he’s—”

“He’s never once treated you and Elizabeth differently because of me and Sonny,” Jason finished. “Yeah, I agree. I don’t think Baldwin’s in any danger, but it makes me nervous Sonny isn’t getting better.”

“He’s the father of my children, Jason, but I’m just…I can’t do this anymore.” She started to get to her feet, so Jason took her elbow and helped her.

“We’ll figure this out, Carly. But right now, you worry about the baby. Let me worry about Sonny.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Carly muttered on her way out the door, but Jason didn’t answer her.  

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

 “I am so glad to see you,” Elizabeth said as she embraced Nikolas for a tight hug. “I feel like we didn’t have enough time to catch up in July.”

“Well, you were busy trying not to die,” he said dryly as he drew back and kissed her cheek. “But I’m happy to see you out of the hospital and…” He looked around the room. “I think I’m not entirely surprised to find you here.”

“I’m moving my things in here officially this weekend,” Elizabeth told him as they sat down on the sofa. “But I’ve been staying here since Wednesday—Sarah was here overnight, and I let her stay in the condo.”

“Sarah?” Nikolas repeated. “Why—” He shook his head. “Why was she in Port Charles? She left last year without so much as a word to the rest of us—”

“Yeah, well, she finished her residency in California and Mercy is interviewing her for a fellowship. It was fine. She stayed at my place, and Jason and I took her to Eli’s for dinner. It was weird but fine.” Elizabeth scratched her temple. “How’s your mother? You were hoping to bring her home soon. Is that still happening?”

“Yeah, yeah. She’ll be at Shadybrooke for few weeks, and then they’re going to do some outpatient therapy.” Nikolas’s smile was full of relief. “She should be home for good by Christmas as long as there aren’t any setbacks.”

“I’m so glad,” Elizabeth said, reaching out to squeeze his hands. “I know Lucky could use her in his life. He told you about the investigation and what happened to Brooke Lynn Ashton?”

“Yeah. It’s—” Nikolas shook his head. “It’s brought back some rough memories for him. Have you talked to him?”

“A little but not in a few weeks,” Elizabeth admitted. “But he seems happier than he used to be. Have you met Kelsey?”

“I did. She came with him to pick me up. I liked her. And you’re right, he seems happy. But I’m worried about this case.” Nikolas paused. “He said he talked to you about his memory issues.”

“A few weeks ago, yeah. He said he was remembering it now,” Elizabeth replied.  “I thought about checking in with him again, but…” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t know. We have this shared trauma of that night, and I’m dealing with a lot after what happened with Ric—what’s still happening because of him…”

“Are…are you okay?” Nikolas asked, concerned.

“I’ve been seeing Gail Baldwin and digging into a lot of crap that happened, so it’s been painful. Jason and I have fought maybe a hundred times about him worrying too much about me taking risks with my health, so that’s been fun.” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “And then, to top it off, ELQ apparently can’t make decent condoms, so it turns out I’m pregnant.”

To his credit, Nikolas merely nodded. “Okay. So that’s a lot.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “The doctor says there’s a good chance I’ll be okay, and the baby will be okay, but instead of being excited, Ric gets to play a starring role because of the drugs he fed me for months.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. That’s not why you came over—”

“Hey. We agreed this summer we were going to do better by one another, right?” Nikolas squeezed her hand again. “I’m glad you felt like you could tell me that. Have you talked to Jason?”

“To a certain extent, yeah, he knows all of that but…I’m tired of everything being about Ric. Between what happened to Brooke and the memories it brought up for me because of Ric, the trial, and now the baby—I just want my life to stop being about Ric Lansing.”

She got to her feet and paced the length of the room. “I wanted the chance to testify against him. To see his face so he could know that I’m not weak. I wanted him to know who put him there.” She stared out the window over the harbor. “But mostly, I just want it all to be over.”

“It will be.” Nikolas got to his feet and joined her. “At the end of all it, you and Carly will put that sociopath away for the rest of his life, you’ll have your baby, and in a few years, this won’t even make the top ten list of things you think about.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Elizabeth murmured. She smiled at him. “But it gives me something to look forward to, you know? The idea that if I just concentrate on that moment—my baby’s fifth birthday or something—I want to be able to dream again, Nikolas.” Tears slid down her cheek. “But I’m not sure I remember how anymore.”

“Well, then dream about this. Next week, let’s get together with Lucky and Emily and have dinner. The Four Musketeers.”

Elizabeth laughed through her tears. “You know, the last time we all had dinner together, Lucky was kidnapped. I guess it can’t get much worse than that. Okay. It’s a deal. Dinner with the Musketeers.”

Brownstone: Living Room

 “Hey, Lucky,” Bobbie said as she embraced her nephew. “It’s been a few weeks since I saw you around.”

“Yeah, well…” Lucky grimaced and followed his aunt to the kitchen where she started a pot of coffee. “I’ve been busy with the case—”

“And Kelsey,” his aunt said with a smile. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how little you come by Kelly’s and your room.”

“Things are…” Lucky shook his head, with a bit of a surprised laugh. “Things are good. I’m not really sure how it happened, but she’s amazing. And I feel—” He looked at Bobbie. “I feel like I’m finally the person I’m supposed to be. With her. With Dante and Cruz. And sometimes, at my job.”

“I’m so glad.” Bobbie squeezed his shoulder. “You were so lost. Even when we thought you were found, you still didn’t seem comfortable in your own skin.”

“Nikolas likes her.” He shrugged. “Dad might not since she’s an ADA and he’s not that great about my job choice, but I guess we’ll find out.”

“I can’t believe your mother will finally be home next month,” Bobbie said. She placed the coffee carafe underneath her faucet and turned on the water. “Lulu is excited to be moving back to the house—she said Lesley is coming home next week, then Luke will come back with Laura.” She threw him a smile over her shoulder. “It’s been a hard year for the Spencers, but we’re coming out of it.”

“Yeah.” Lucky sat on the stool by the counter and unpinned his badge from his uniform shirt. “What do you think Mom is gonna say about me being a cop?”

“I think it might surprise her,” Bobbie admitted as she switched on the pot to brew, then turned to fully face him. “But do I think she’ll react like Luke? No. She’d be proud of you for going after what you want.” She tipped her head to the side. “You’ve been at this for four months on duty. Is this still something you want?”

“I don’t know,” Lucky admitted. “I got into it because of Scott—because of how he and everyone went after Mom and Dad last year for what happened to Rick Webber. He made it sound like I couldn’t do it, you know? I went into the academy just to prove I could. Then I met Dante and Cruz—” He looked at Bobbie. “But ever since I actually started doing the work…”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t help that literally the day you started was Carly’s kidnapping. Then this rape investigation with poor Brooke. It’s probably been hard on all three of you. Especially you and Dante—”

“Yeah…” Lucky sighed. “The thing is, Aunt Bobbie, this rape case—it’s bringing back a lot of stuff. You know where the papers are saying it happened, right?”

“The park,” Bobbie said with a nod as she took two mugs out of a cabinet. “That’s where Brooke was.”

“The papers don’t have the whole story yet, but you’re going to be hearing it soon enough because Taggert is supposed to tell her today.” Lucky waited until Bobbie stopped to meet his eyes. “Brooke and the other three women—it’s not the first time this guy has hit Port Charles.”

Bobbie stared at him for a long moment, then closed her eyes. “Oh, God. Tell me when you say her—tell me—”

“Taggert had this hunch that something about this case seemed familiar, but I think he already knew. I think he was already told he wasn’t allowed to reopen her case because he told me, Dante, and Cruz to go down to the archives and bring up all the cold cases that were similar. He knew what we were supposed to find.”

The drip of the coffee was the only thing that punctuated the silence as Bobbie said nothing. Lucky continued. “We found two other cases. Two other women, in April 1999 and January 2000. But Aunt Bobbie, Elizabeth’s case wasn’t in cold storage.”

Bobbie frowned. “I thought Taggert put it on the inactive list. That’s what he told Elizabeth back then. Even though Baker had confessed—”

“That’s where Taggert put it. Mac Scorpio told him they would run the rape kit, but until then it had to come off the active case list. He told Taggert the kit came back negative.”

Bobbie clutched at the edge of the counter as if to maintain her balance. “Lucky—”

“But we found the file in closed storage. It was marked as solved. The lab report was in the file, just like it was in the DA’s file—but it wasn’t created until December. And the lab said it didn’t come from them. And her dress never got tested.”

“I—I can’t—” Bobbie shook her head. “How—”

“We couldn’t understand it either. Taggert talked to Mac. He said it was some kind of clerical error—that the lab got it wrong, but I don’t think so. I think Floyd pressured Mac to close any case that would screw up Baker’s trial. We all thought Baker was the guy. Maybe Mac didn’t even think he was doing anything wrong.”

Bobbie rounded the counter to sit at her table. “Why would Floyd care—” She twisted in the chair to look at Lucky. “Because Baker was on trial for what happened to Emily. You think Edward was behind this.”

“I think it’s entirely possible the Quartermaines were the source of that pressure, yes,” Lucky said. He turned on the stool. “We ran the kit finally—and all the other kits. They’re all linked. Baker was excluded. And Elizabeth’s rapist went on to brutally beat and rape six other women, including Brooke Lynn.”

Bobbie pressed a fist to her abdomen. “I feel sick to my stomach. They…they swept her case under the rug and—Oh, God. You said Taggert is telling her today?”

“Yeah. She’s the only previous victim we haven’t interviewed. He held off until he had no other choice. He was almost hoping he wouldn’t have to tell her at all — Elizabeth’s case is five years old — older than that now, and the statute of limitations ran out in February.”

Bobbie frowned. “Then—”

“Elizabeth was sixteen,” Lucky continued, “and in the state of New York, the clock on limitations doesn’t start until the victim turns eighteen.”

Bobbie pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “And now, after everything she’s been through, Taggert is going to reopen all of this.”

“Aunt Bobbie—”

“I don’t think Edward had anything to do with the cover-up,” Bobbie cut him. “I buy that he leaned on Floyd to protect Emily, to go after Baker. Edward’s always been ruthless, but he’s not cruel. He respected Steve and Audrey too much to do that to their granddaughter. He wouldn’t have done it.”

“Maybe, but at the end of the day, instead of running the rape kit and officially clearing Baker, Mac let this case die. And six other women went with it.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“What do you think is going to happen to Sonny and Carly?” Elizabeth asked as she handed Jason his takeout container from Kelly’s. She settled herself on the sofa next to him and grimaced at the roasted vegetables and plain chicken breast she’d ordered. The least she could do for her baby was eat better, but damn if didn’t hurt to watch Jason sink his teeth into a burger.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “Carly seems tired of dealing with it, and I can’t blame her. Not after everything she’s been through. I guess…we’ll just have to see how it plays out.” He eyed her as she listlessly stabbed a fork into a piece of zucchini. “Did Nikolas stop by today?”

“Yeah, and then I went to see Gail when he left for our usual session.” She sighed. “Gail said that one of her support groups is looking for someone to lead it.” Her stomach twisted. “A rape survivor’s group. She thought I might be interested.”

He just tipped his head to the side. “Are you?”

She said nothing for a long moment as she ate a few bites of the vegetables. As she chewed, she tried to think of a way to express exactly what she was thinking. “I don’t know. I think about talking to Brooke and what I’ve been through this summer, the idea of talking about my rape, listening to other people talk about theirs…I almost can’t stand it. But…”

“But?” he pressed when she trailed off.

“I went to a few group meetings while I was seeing Gail the first time around. And…I don’t know. It sucked knowing I wasn’t alone. That men were out there doing this to women all the time.” Elizabeth looked away, towards the fireplace. “But…I wasn’t alone. And that helped sometimes when I was sitting in my room and couldn’t sleep.” She jerked a shoulder. “That summer, I used to get really upset that I would never know. Lucky and I were trying to find the guy, but our own investigation never went anywhere.”

She set her takeout container on the coffee table. “But then I’d remember some of the stories I heard in group, and I’d think…maybe it’d be worse if I did know the guy, you know? Someone’s boyfriend raped her when she told him no. Another had been…her father. Someone else’s uncle.”

She looked at Jason whose expression hadn’t changed, even as one of his hands had clenched into a fist. “Gail thinks I’d be good at it, and it might help me let go of my guilt about not doing enough for Brooke. I’ve been complaining about not having any passion, any direction…And I don’t think it would be all that stressful. I mean, it would be painful, but—”

“Not stressful the way we need to worry about,” Jason offered when she furrowed her brow, trying to articulate the difference.

“Yeah. If she thinks it’s a good idea, she’s probably right. But I don’t know. I’m trying to get away from all of that. I was just telling Nikolas how much I want it all to stop, to go away. If I did this, I’d have to live with all the time.”

He paused for a moment as if searching for the right words. “But you already do.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I don’t know. I guess it’s something to think about.”

The phone on Jason’s desk rang, so he got up to answer it. “Yeah?” He grimaced, looked at Elizabeth. “Hold on a second.” He put the receiver down. “Taggert is here to see you.”

“Really?” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Send him up, I guess.”

Jason gave the directive, then hung up the phone. “What do you think he wants?”

“I don’t know. It’s almost eight.” Elizabeth got to her feet to clear away their dinner, but Jason stopped her and did it instead. “I went to see him and Scott yesterday—you don’t think Ric already knows, do you?” she called after him as he went into the kitchen.

“I don’t know.” Jason reappeared in the doorway. “I guess we’ll find out.”

When she opened the door to Taggert a few minutes later, she hoped neither the fear nor the panic swirling in her stomach showed on her face. “Lieutenant, this is a surprise.”

“Hey, Elizabeth,” Taggert said as she stepped back to let him. He had a slight grimace on his face when he saw Jason standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Sorry to come by so late, but I didn’t want to wait another day.”

She gestured for him to take a seat. He did so, sitting in the armchair next to the sofa where Elizabeth tugged Jason to sit next to her. “What’s up? Is it Ric?”

“No, no. Everything is still where we left it there. Um, you know I was promoted this summer and took over Major Crimes. That’s why I was on Brooke’s case.”

“Do you…have a lead?” Elizabeth asked. She looked at Jason who looked unhappy. She frowned before looking back at Taggert. “Did you find him?”

“No. We—the papers already reported that she was the fourth young woman in the park. We…There’s no easy way to say this, Elizabeth. But these four women—they weren’t the first.”

The chill began in her fingertips and she idly started to rub her hands together to keep them from freezing solid. Silly to wonder if the ice was real or just in her head. “They weren’t.”

“There were three other earlier attacks,” Taggert continued, looking down at the carpet. His voice started to sound far away. She felt Jason take one of her hands, hold it tightly. “January 2000. April 1999, and—”

“February 1998,” she said softly. “How can you know that?”

“We ran the…we ran the forensics, and there was…a DNA match linked all seven cases.”

“Seven—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No, no, then there’s a mistake. Because my kit was run. Back in 1998. After Baker confessed. Because he confessed—”

Thank God she was sitting down because her head started to swim. Jason turned and wrapped his arm around her, bringing her closer to him. He was so warm. She wanted to crawl inside of him and hide.

Because she knew what was coming next and she couldn’t stop it.

“Elizabeth, I can’t—the kit wasn’t—there were some issues. But—we now know the profile excludes Baker. And links you to the later cases.”

She closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “Jason.”

“I’m right here—”

“The letter. The letter he sent—is that what he said? Is that what you’ve wanted to tell me?”

“Letter?” Taggert asked, his brows lifted. “What letter?”

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t get the words out over the pounding of her heart. So, Jason took a deep breath and told him.

“In July, when we were packing her things at the house…she got a letter from Tom Baker. She didn’t open it.” His features were pained as she met his eyes. “I did. I read it. He’s up for parole in a while and he—”

“Wanted to clear his conscience?” Taggert asked sardonically.

“Make sure that no one was waiting for him when he left prison,” Jason said flatly. “He saw the same tabloids that Ric Lansing saw. Thought he had reason to worry.”

Taggert left it at that. “I no longer work in Organized Crime,” Taggert said. “I am supremely uninterested in anything that has to do with arresting someone who is not the asshole who—you can trust me. At least on this.”

“What did the letter say? Do you still have it?”

“It’s upstairs,” Jason said, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to leave Elizabeth alone for a minute to retrieve it. “She didn’t want to read it, and I never told her what was in it.” He looked at her, regretful. “You didn’t want to know. Every time I tried—”

She touched his face, understanding. After her reaction from just knowing he’d been to see Baker— “Taggert, can we trust you?” she asked softly. “I mean, really.”

“After we got the letter, I went to see him. To warn him to stay away from Elizabeth and Emily if he got out on parole,” Jason said, not looking away from Elizabeth. “But he said something that…he said something about what he wrote. So, I went home and read the letter. He said it wasn’t him. Then, after Brooke and the other stories in the papers…”

Taggert narrowed his eyes, lunged to his feet. “Is there, ah, a reason you didn’t think to tell the cops—”

“Tell the same department that almost got her killed?” Jason demanded, also rising and meeting Taggert’s glare, fury in his eyes. “Yeah. There were reasons.”

“Don’t—” Elizabeth stood up between them. “Don’t. Jason didn’t tell you because we didn’t trust you. And after everything that came out about Brooke’s case, I’m not sure he was wrong. Because I know for a fact I was told five years ago that my rape kit came back negative, Taggert. How were you able to exclude Baker this time?”

“I can’t get into that, Elizabeth—”

“When Jason told me he’d been to see Baker, I fell apart. I had a panic attack. I continued to have panic attacks and breathing problems until three weeks ago. And then we found out we were pregnant. He didn’t think I could handle knowing. And I don’t blame you.” She turned to look at him. “I don’t blame you.” Elizabeth returned to Taggert.  “But this guy—he’s raped six other women. And he’s responsible for Brooke’s death. So, I just…I want to do what I can to help.”

Taggert exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. For all the ways we’ve failed you. But I’m trying to do right now. What happened to you, to Brooke, to everyone who should have been safe makes me sick.” He looked at Jason, who was still breathing hard with anger. “You said you believed him. Why?”

Elizabeth gave him a pleading look, so Jason sighed and sat back down, pulling her with him. Taggert also retook his seat.  “He said that he knew he was getting out, and he wanted to make sure I didn’t have a reason to come after him,” Jason related as though there wasn’t a world of meaning in that statement. “Once we found out about the other attacks—it just seemed it fit. He said that she had said something, and he’d run with it.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I thought might have happened. I looked at the transcript of your original statement and it looks like—”

“He told me not to say a word, and—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, shaking her head. “Yeah, I guess maybe. I accused him, and I must have looked so freaked out. Thinking back, that makes sense.”

“I’d like you to come in,” Taggert told her. “I’d like you give us an updated statement for our files. We never conducted a second full interview.”

“Do you have any leads?”

He hesitated. “We have some things to look at, but at the moment, we don’t have a suspect. The DNA isn’t in the database. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be. Other jurisdictions are still getting online. He was inactive for nearly all of 2000 through 2002. He might have been somewhere else.”

“I guess…” Elizabeth sighed. “I guess yeah. Where did you keep the letter?” she asked Jason.

“I can get it—”

“I need a minute,” she told him quietly. “Please.”

“It’s in my top dresser drawer.” He watched as she slowly climbed the stairs before turning back to Taggert. “You’re not going to hassle me about going to see Baker?”

“I already know it was off the books because you’re not listed in his visitor log. So, I could…” Taggert looked at the stairs. “Knowing what she’s been through, Morgan, I waited until the last possible minute to bring her into this. I wanted to protect her. So, I can put myself in your place. Woman I cared about whose life was shattered gets a letter like that? I’m gonna get her some answers anyway I can.”

He tilted his head. “And now that I’m thinking back to it, it seems to me that after Brooke was attacked, I got a tip from an anonymous source that these weren’t the first attacks. That I should look at similar cases.”

Jason didn’t look at him, stared straight ahead at the television where the news was running, muted. “If I had come to you, she would have known. And she didn’t want to know.”

“Fair enough.”

Elizabeth came down the stairs and held out the letter, still folded. “Here. When do you want me to come in?”

“Tomorrow. Whenever is good for you.” Taggert took it and carefully slid it into a plastic bag he kept in the pocket of his suit jacket for times like these. “Thanks.”

Jason walked him to the door as Elizabeth sank back onto the sofa. When he closed the door, he looked back at Elizabeth. He didn’t know what to do for her. How to even…begin to understand how to make this okay for her.

“I think maybe part of me has wondered since the moment Emily called me and told me it was in the park,” Elizabeth admitted. “When you put that letter in front of me, and I had to face it, I still pushed it under the rug. I’ve avoided it. Concentrated on Brooke and what happened to Ric, and then the baby—I didn’t think I was strong enough to face the idea it wasn’t Baker.”

Her cheeks were wet when she met his eyes again. “But Taggert said it…and I realized I already knew. I had already accepted it. Somewhere inside. I just didn’t…Did you hear what he said? It wasn’t just me. I wasn’t alone.”

The echo of her words from earlier that evening slammed into him because they were no longer comforting but filled with horror. With terror.

He was rooted to this spot in front of the door, afraid to come near her. To touch her. What if he did, and it happened again? If she went back to that place—

“I wasn’t alone,” Elizabeth repeated. “And he just…” She pressed a fist to her mouth, closed her eyes. “He kept on doing it. He kept hurting women. April, January, February, May, July—and then, oh, God, Brooke. He’s the reason she’s gone. He’s still out there, Jason. Not five years ago. But now. Tonight. And these are just the women we know about. What if…”

He moved just one step towards her, then she flew into his arms, burrowing her head into his chest. He exhaled slowly, wrapping his arms around her and held her.

“What do you want to do?” he asked after a moment.

“I have to do it. I have to help. Six other women. Brooke. If I don’t, and I knew something that could have helped, even a little…and then someone else…I couldn’t live with myself, Jason.”

“Okay.”

She drew back to look at him. “I know you and Taggert aren’t…on most days, you don’t like each other, but I was hoping…you would come with me.”

“Taggert and I agree on one thing — you.” And he knew Taggert had transferred to Major Crimes over the handling of Elizabeth and Carly’s case. He’d been the only cop on their side while Carly was gone, responsible for the rookies who had sat outside her house every day. And now he’d done what he could to keep this case from touching Elizabeth. “If you want me there, then that’s where I’ll be.”

“Thank you.” She was quiet for a moment. “I’m going to tell Gail I’ll do it. The support group, anyway. I think—I think I need to deal with this once and for all and put it away for good.”

Now that we’re here,
It’s so far away
All the struggle we thought was in vain
All in the mistakes,
One life contained
They all finally start to go away
Now that we’re here it’s so far away
And I feel like I can face the day, and I can forgive
And I’m not ashamed to be the person that I am today
– So Far Away, Staind

---

Friday, September 12, 2003

General Hospital: Kelly Lee’s Office

 Sarah’s surprise visit was able to keep Elizabeth from obsessing about her doctor’s appointment and while dinner with her sister and Jason was a bit awkward, it was drama free. They dropped Sarah back at the condo while they went to the penthouse for the night.

The next morning, they headed to the hospital where Kelly Lee, a doctor Monica had recommended from Buffalo, had been granted temporary privileges and office space to treat Elizabeth, at least for today. She knew she was receiving special treatment from her connection to the Quartermaines, but it was hard to argue with it when it benefited her and the possibility of keeping her child.

From the moment Elizabeth and Jason entered Kelly’s office at General Hospital, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Kelly was enthusiastic, warm, and most importantly — direct.

“I can understand your cardiologist’s concern,” Kelly said as she looked through Elizabeth’s chart. “You’ve had a difficult few months health wise. That being said…” She lifted her eyes to the nervous couple seated in front of her. “Your recent scans are clear for blood clots, your bloodwork is clean, and none of the tests you’ve had so far show any damage to your heart and lungs.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly and looked at Jason. He took her hand in his, squeezing it. “So, it’s not crazy to think I could carry this baby to term and be okay?”

“It’s not crazy, no,” Kelly told her. “But we also can’t ignore that Dr. Quartermaine is entirely correct. You are at an elevated risk for another embolism, and pregnancy does place stress on the body that you probably don’t really need right now. That being said, there are a lot of things we can do to monitor you and stay on top of any problems.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, bit her lip. “But I can—I can keep the baby.”

“I’m sure you’ve both been through a lot since you found out a few days ago,” Kelly said when Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at her. “Looking at your records, you had some scary close calls, Miss Webber.” She flicked her eyes to Jason. “And I’m sure that was difficult to watch. But you’re on blood thinners. Usually, we take you off those about ninety days after the embolism, but we’ll keep you on them for the duration of the pregnancy.”

She scribbled something else. “You’ll see me monthly—Dr. Quartermaine—the Chief of Staff—offered me a staff position so I won’t just be a visiting doctor. At home, however, I want you to monitor your pulse daily and your blood pressure once a week. Any deviation from the norm, you’re to come straight to the hospital so we can look into it.”

Elizabeth stared at her for a long moment. “But—but that’s it? That’s all we can do—”

“Well, normally, I’d remind you to take it easy. To avoid stress, but I understand you’re due to testify in a trial,” Kelly told her. “We’ll keep a close eye on you during that period, but honestly, Elizabeth, considering how fragile your situation was two months ago, you’ve gotten yourself back into decent enough shape that we can get you through this.”

She tipped her head. “But no unnecessary activity. Take it easy. Pregnancy can cause extreme fatigue, and you’re still rebuilding your stamina. If you feel tired, sit down. If you feel dizzy, lay down, call me. Try to avoid being alone for long stretches of time or make sure there’s always someone there to take your call.”

Kelly waited a long moment. “Are you a high-risk pregnancy? Yes. Do I think you need to worry? Not all the time. From your case file, it looks like the symptoms of your blood clots were masked by the drugs your ex-husband was giving you. But you’re aware of the symptoms now.” She leaned forward. “Follow my directions to the letter, and I honestly think you have an excellent chance of a smooth pregnancy.”

She tapped her pencil against the desk blotter. “Where we might have issues is delivery and directly after. We can discuss it as we get closer to your due date, but I might want to check you in ahead of time to monitor you closely in case a clot develops.”

They scheduled a follow-up appointment along with an ultrasound, and before Elizabeth knew it, the two of them were in the hallway of the hospital on their way to the elevator.

“I feel…” Elizabeth managed a laugh. She led Jason to a small alcove near the elevators and sat down on the sofa. “I feel so silly for all the drama and the crying, and the—” She shook her head. “She made it sound so easy.”

“Yeah, I have to admit, she’s not asking you to do anything much differently than you did after you left the hospital.” Jason took Elizabeth’s hand in his and held it palm side up, tracing the veins of her wrist. “And to be honest—”

“You already take my pulse at least once a day, if not more,” Elizabeth finished. “Yeah, I noticed.” She exhaled slowly. “I mean—we can—we can think about what’s next now. Because—I mean obviously we’re going forward with this.” She met his eyes. “Now that it’s—it’s safe. We can be happy. If you…”

“I am happy,” Jason told, softening his voice. “I was…afraid to be happy. I didn’t want to get used to the idea until we knew—”

“Until we knew,” she repeated when he stopped talking. She turned her hand back over and laced her fingers in his. “We’re having a baby.” Her smile spread until her cheeks nearly ached from it. “Maybe your mother—I mean, Monica—maybe she was right. Maybe this part is the miracle. Why we survived last summer.”

“You don’t have—you can call her my mother,” Jason told Elizabeth. “So, you said we can think about what’s next. We haven’t talked about it, but if your medical records are open to Ric—”

“He’ll know about the baby,” Elizabeth finished. She pressed her lips together. “Yeah, I talked to Bobbie about it, and I’d be insane not to worry about it. The miscarriage tipped Ric over the edge, so if he finds out I’m pregnant again—after what happened with that stuff in the papers…” She shook her head, her smile fading slightly. “I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s why I want—I want to move to the penthouse,” Jason told her. “You can do whatever you want to it, but as secure as the condo is—”

“The Towers are a fortress,” Elizabeth finished with a nod. “Yeah. We can do that.” At his surprised look, she shrugged. “I needed a place to get myself together. And the condo was great for that. And if it were just me, maybe we could discuss it further, but I remember how secure the penthouse was last year. All of that stuff you guys installed after that bomb got up to Sonny’s a few years ago and everything.”

She got to her feet and they started for the elevators. After she pressed the down button, Elizabeth said, “I also want to let Scott Baldwin know.” When Jason grimaced slightly, she continued, “I don’t want him to be blindsided if Ric finds out from my records. After he offered to make a deal when it would be better publicity for him to go to trial, I feel like I owe it to him to be fair.”

“Okay.” Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Whatever you need, that’s what we’ll do.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

 Carly checked her watch and scowled, tapping her foot nervously against the floor as she stared at a magazine. She just wanted Jason to call and tell her about the doctor’s appointment—she was worried about both of them if the doctor gave them bad news.

She didn’t know if she actually liked Elizabeth Webber, but after everything they’d been through together, the least Carly owed Jason and Elizabeth was civility and her support.

She eyed her husband, pouring yet another bourbon at the minibar. Since Sonny was determined to be a jackass—

Her phone rang and Carly almost fumbled it in her haste to open it, but—” Oh, hey, Mama. No, he didn’t call me yet. You either?”

Sonny turned to look at her, a questioning look in his eyes. She silently shook her head as Bobbie continued to talk. “Oh, man. I mean…you warned me, I guess. Yeah. Okay. We’ll deal with it. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. I’ll call you if I hear anything.”

Carly closed her phone, then pressed it to her forehead, silently counting to five before looking at her husband. “She was calling because she got a subpoena from Ric.”

Sonny grimaced but sighed. “That makes sense. She was there the day you were found and helped look—” He stared at her. “What?”

“She was also there when you had your breakdown, Sonny. And she didn’t tell Scott outright, but he knew enough that the judge decided it was Brady material—” When Sonny scowled, she hurried to add, “He would have been in trouble if he didn’t turn over whatever he knew about you—”

“Fucking Baldwin,” Sonny muttered. He threw back his bourbon. “So, your mother is just going to spill her guts? She could get in trouble for giving me that injection, you know? Why doesn’t she plead the Fifth?”

“No one who knows about that is going to tell anyone.” Carly pulled herself to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “What’s the big problem, Sonny? Even if Ric makes you testify about your breakdown, it doesn’t change anything—”

“If you would just let me take care of that little fucker, we wouldn’t have to worry about this!” Sonny roared. “And now my mental health is going to be on everyone’s lips! I’m gonna look even weaker than I already do!”

Carly rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, Sonny, is that what you’re worried about? Typical. You had a breakdown because I was gone. That just makes you sympathetic—”

“You think Anthony Zacchara is going to find me sympathetic?” Sonny demanded as he stalked towards her. “What about Hector Ruiz or Sammy Tagliatti? You think any one of them is going to think it’s no big deal that I was hallucinating my dead wife?”

She exhaled slowly. “We talked about this. You’re not touching Ric. Not before the trial—”

“You know if I get rid of that asshole DA, that would take care of this too,” Sonny muttered. “Get rid of Baldwin, and the case gets postponed. No trial. No deal.”

Carly’s blood felt frozen beneath her skin as she stared at her husband. “Are you—are you threatening the district—you’re not serious, are you? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You seem to forget who I am, Carly.” Sonny pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes bulging with fury. “I am fucking Sonny Corinthos and no one is going to make me look weak. The only reason Ric is still alive is—” He shook his head and turned away from her.

Pressure built behind her eyes as she struggled to form the next words. “Because Jason refused to do anything. And you don’t have the connections to do it without him.” She fisted her hands at her side. “What, did Jason tell everyone who works under you to leave Ric alone? Did you already try to give the order, Sonny? After everything we talked about—did you try to have Ric killed?”

Sonny didn’t answer her and just poured himself another drink.

“If you touch Scott Baldwin, if you go after Ric, Sonny, after everything we’ve talked about—everything I’ve been through—” Tears slid down her cheek. “That’s it. I’m gone. We’re done.”

He turned back to look at her. “Well, maybe that would be for the best,” he said simply.

Her heart pounding, she nodded. “Yeah, maybe it is. I’ll have Leticia pack Michael up. We’ll go to my mother’s.”

And when Sonny didn’t say anything else, Carly went upstairs and started to pack.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Taggert had planned to visit Chicago to interview Theresa Lopez, the victim of the April 1999 attack, but he’d gotten lucky — she had flown in for her grandmother’s birthday and agreed to talk to him. Even better, he’d finally managed to convince all three victims from earlier that year to talk to him as well. Provided they met out in the open, away from the PCPD, and not in their own homes.

He spoke to Theresa first. She was no more than five foot three, maybe a hundred and ten pounds with brown eyes and pale skin. In the photos taken in the hospital four years earlier, her had been a deep chestnut brown, worn long with a tendency to curl.

Her attacker, the report read, had wrapped that hair around his first. Smelled it. Commented on it.

It was now short, in what his ex-girlfriend Hannah Scott had called a pixie cut, he remembered. And ash blonde.

He couldn’t blame her.

“Did you find him?” she asked flatly after she took a seat across the table from him, a large flowered purse held in her lap, her arms wrapped around it as if she could use it as a weapon any moment.

“No,” Taggert admitted. “But we have a lead—”

“Great. A lead,” she repeated, those eyes flashing. “You brought this back because maybe—”

“We’ve linked your case to others,” Taggert cut in as gently as possible. “Your kit was processed and came back with a match to a few other open cases. There’s no hit in the national database, but if his profile is ever put in there, we’ll be able to match it. But we’re actively pursuing him, Ms. Lopez.”

Her shoulders deflated and she looked away. “They didn’t test it back then. No suspect. It made no damn sense to me, you know? How the hell do you get a suspect without—” She shook her head. “And the first cop was an ass. He blamed me.”

As that first cop had been that lazy son of a bitch Vinnie Esposito, this didn’t surprise him in the slightest. “You don’t need this from me, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, well thousands of dollars in therapy later,” she muttered. She huffed, looked at him. “What do you need from me?”

Taggert hesitated. “I need to take your statement. The one we have is a bit…” Incomplete. Half-assed. “There are questions you weren’t asked. Some ground I wanted to cover.”

“Because there’s this link, you said.” Theresa nodded.

She’d gone to the movies with a friend, she told him. A girl friend, so they’d met there and parted ways. She didn’t have a car then and the theater wasn’t far from her house. If she cut across Port Charles Park, she could be home in ten minutes.

“But I tripped over a stupid rock,” Theresa sighed. “Or a crack in the pavement. I don’t remember now. My sneaker was untied, so I stopped at the fountain.”

“Which one?”

“The one on the north side of the park, closer to the movie theater. It wasn’t really cold. One of the first nights it wasn’t freezing, so I only had a windbreaker on. I sat on the bench, before I could tie my shoe…” Theresa looked away. “He grabbed me. I kicked, tried to scream. I never did see that sneaker again. Flew right off my foot.”

It was sitting in an evidence bag, found soaking wet in the fountain when the crime scene investigators had swept the scene, but Taggert didn’t tell her that.

“He threw me to the ground,” Theresa said, her voice as flat and lifeless. “And he hit me. Hard in the face. And he grabbed my head, slammed it against the ground. I—I saw stars for a minute and by the time I could breathe—he’d flipped me on my stomach and handcuffed me.”

Taggert’s pencil slipped and he looked up. “Handcuffed.”

“Easier to hold me down when I can’t use my hands.” Theresa pressed her lips together. “I guess. I don’t know. He put me on my back. God, my fucking hands hurt. I was terrified, but all I could think was how tight the cuffs were. I didn’t—I didn’t tell that other cop that. I didn’t remember it.”

“It’s okay—”

“I didn’t remember most of it,” she admitted. “Not until later. When my parents made me go to therapy after I tried to kill myself the first time.”  She picked up the glass of water, her hands shaking a little. “But now it’s all I can remember. How much my hands hurt, how my shoulders felt like the muscles were being ripped into two. I guess it distracted me, because the next thing I knew, my jeans were off, and—”

Her voice broke. She took a deep breath. A huge gulp of water. Taggert said nothing, just sat there. Let her do it in her own way.

“He jammed himself inside me, and God it, hurt so fucking much. I wasn’t a virgin, I’d had one boyfriend steady since I was a freshman. Was having sex regularly. I tell you that because I know how it’s supposed to feel—”

“Theresa—”

Her eyes fastened on his. “It’s the only way I got through it.  I cried to my boyfriend in the hospital. I’d felt like I cheated on him, and God, he just—he never said a word against me. I pushed him away. Refused to see him, and he stuck. We’re still together.” She flattened her hand on the table. And now he saw a tiny diamond glinting. “Maybe we wouldn’t have made it if this happened, but he stuck with me through this and I guess once you go through the worst thing and get through the other side, all the other drama seems like bullshit.”

She exhaled slowly. “I don’t know how long it took. It felt like forever. And it felt like a few seconds. He had his hand in my hair the whole time. Talked about how nice it smelled, but it wasn’t the best. It wasn’t right,” she said slowly. “That’s what he said.  He finished, hit me a few more times—and the last time, he hit me so hard, I blacked out. That’s why it got reported. Because I was unconscious, and someone found me. I don’t know if I would have called anyone, and after I met Officer Fuckface, I didn’t want to keep going. Another guy came later. Garcia or something. He was nicer, but I couldn’t—after the first one, I just didn’t want to talk to the PCPD anymore.”

Taggert hesitated. “I’m sorry—”

“He told me that maybe I shouldn’t walk at night,” Theresa said flatly. “Like I’m not a fucking taxpayer. Like it’s my fault some asshole needed to prove something to himself. But I didn’t get angry then. I blamed myself. And after the first six months, I took a bunch of pills and tried to make it stop. But my mom found me and committed me to the psych ward. Told me I had to do something. My boyfriend cried. My dad cried.”

She looked at her hands. “I’d never seen either of them do that and I guess I realized what it would do to them. Even if my pain stopped, theirs would just start. And I didn’t want that. So, I went to therapy. And I got through it.

“Did any of that help?” Theresa asked after a long moment.

“Yeah.” Taggert set his pen down. “I’m sorry that the first cop you talked to was an asshole.  I can’t make excuses for him. And I wish I could promise you I’ll get him. That’s not a guarantee I can make.”

“I guess not.”

“But this case is all I’m working on,” he continued. “And I’m not going to give up until there’s nothing left to do.”

“You said there were others,” Theresa said. “How many?”

“Six,” he admitted. “One before you. Another after you. And then nothing until four this year.”

“Four this year.” She exhaled slowly. “He’s still…he’s still out there.”

“Yeah. But…” He looked at her hair. “Keep the blonde hair. Keep it short.”

“All long-haired brunettes.” Theresa nodded. “I was thinking about growing it out for the wedding next year, but I think I’ll go get my roots touched up.”

She left then, and a half hour later, Dana Watson arrived. She was only twenty-one and according to the photos, in February, she’d been a brunette with long, curly hair.

It was now a chin-length bob, worn stick straight and dyed a firetruck red. And her story was similar to Theresa Lopez. Identical, even, Taggert thought as he considered it later. On her way home from the movies. Had stopped by the angel fountain to check the time on her cell phone because she’d forgotten to put on her watch that morning.

Grabbed. Handcuffed. Hit. Her attacker had also commented on her hair. Had also smelled it. Said it wasn’t right. Had hit her hard enough to knock her unconscious.

Her story, Taggert thought later at his desk at the station, was all but identical to all the other statements. After Theresa and Dana, he’d also met with Renee and Wendy. He’d talked to Veronica Logan on the phone earlier that morning, the last victim from the first round of attacks.

All of them had described stopping at a fountain in the park, being grabbed. Handcuffed, then hit. The attacker had smelled their hair—

And then hit them hard enough to cause unconsciousness when it didn’t smell right.

While Elizabeth’s statement hadn’t been very detailed—Taggert knew she hadn’t remembered a lot of the attack during that first interview—he knew her case was different. She’d walked away from her attack and didn’t report being hit in the face at all.

He wondered, with therapy and the passage of time, if she’d remember any comments about her hair or if she’d been handcuffed. Had that detail come back to her like it had for Theresa?

Six young women with long brown hair had been attacked after her and had been told their hair wasn’t right. They’d been beaten more. Knocked unconscious for someone else to find. It was possible Elizabeth had just been his first victim, someone who whet the appetite for more brutality and sadism, but there was also the distinct possibility that somehow…

Elizabeth had been the trigger, the victim he kept searching out, the attack he kept trying to recreate.

Taggert exhaled slowly and pushed the files away. He’d put it off long enough, but it was time to bring Elizabeth into the investigation.

Port Charles Airport: Arrivals Hall

Kelsey exhaled slowly as she studied the notes Lucky had passed her when they’d left work that night, heading to the airport. She wasn’t nervous.

Not even a little bit.

She’d already met his aunt and his sister. They liked her. Lucky got along with her mother and hadn’t even scowled at Scott Baldwin the night she’d dragged him to dinner with her boss.

Two months into their relationship, everything was going great. They clicked intellectually, he was sexy as hell, great in bed, funny—

Outside of a dormant blood feud with some supervillain and a bout of brainwashing, Lucky Spencer was basically perfect.

So, what the hell was her problem?

Lucky reached over and put a hand on her knee. Kelsey scowled down at it—she hadn’t even realized it was bouncing up and down and she restlessly tapped her foot. “I’m not nervous.”

“Right.”

“I met your aunt.”

“I know.”

“And your sister is crazy. I think she asked me a thousand questions and if she weren’t only eighteen, I’d be worried she was running a background check. But she likes me.”

“So does my aunt.”

Kelsey narrowed her eyes at his easy tone. “I’m not nervous. He’s just your brother.” She huffed. “A Russian prince who has more money than God, a villainous grandmother, and a castle in the middle of the lake. Completely normal.”

“He is normal.” Lucky reached for her hand, covered it with his. “He used to have a giant stick up his ass, but we yanked it out years ago.”

She laughed, rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, that’s a weird thing for brothers to do, but whatever.” She glanced back up at the arrivals board. The private flight from London had landed, which meant the prince was somewhere in Customs. “I guess you read over Taggert’s interview notes from today.”

“Yeah.” Lucky took them back from her. “He’s going to talk to Elizabeth tomorrow. I guess he wants to give her one more night before—”

“All of these women—” Kelsey shook her head. “And the way they talked about the responding officer—Vinnie’s not just lazy, Lucky. He’s a misogynistic asshole who has no business being anywhere near rape victims. And apparently, he was in Special Victims while he was in Buffalo. How many women did he chase away? Did he scare? Blame?”

“Yeah. I know. I read the notes from Theresa’s interview. She attempted suicide six months later. With pills. Just like Brooke.” Lucky was quiet for a long moment. “We put them all through this again, but what did we even learn? Nothing.”

“Hey. Don’t count the statements out yet. We’ll get Elizabeth to come in, do her own follow-up, and then we’ll look at all the cases together. So much about them is the same, you know? But where they’re different—” She touched his arm. “That’s how we’re going to get him. He’s not a mastermind, Lucky. He’s just a sick, sadistic asshole. We know him now.”

“Yeah. Well, we’ll see.” Lucky gestured as a man with dark hair walked through the door of the arrival hall, a few men behind him pushing a baggage cart. “Come meet my brother.”

Kelsey slid her files into her bag and put away dark thoughts of serial rapists. She rose to extend a hand to Nikolas Cassadine, who smiled warmly at her and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“You, as well.” Nikolas released her hand, then rested it on his brother’s shoulder with a teasing grin. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucky rolled his eyes but embraced his brother. “You still up for dinner or do you want to head home to get some sleep?”

“I slept on the plane, and I’m looking forward to getting to know Kelsey. You’ve managed to win over our sister, Miss Joyce,” Nikolas said as he took Kelsey’s arm in his. “Do you know hard it is to impress Lesly Lu Spencer?”

“Hopefully harder than it is to impress a Russian prince,” Kelsey offered as they started out of airport. “But I guess we’ll find out.”

PCPD: Conference Room

 Scott leaned back in the chair and grimaced. “Any idea why Elizabeth wanted to meet with the both of us?” he asked Taggert as the lieutenant took his seat. “You think she knows about her case?”

“I don’t know,” Taggert said, tossing a folder on the table. “Spencer swears up and down that he didn’t tell her—that he’s not in any hurry to bring that up for her either. Maybe it’s about the Lansing case.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’s changed her mind about not wanting to go to trial.”

Scott’s grimace deepened. “I could live with that, but—”

The door opened then, and another officer stuck his head in the door. “Miss Webber is here. You ready for her?”

“Yeah, let her in.” Both Scott and Taggert stood as Elizabeth entered in, one of her hands clutching the strap of her purse at the shoulder. “Elizabeth, what’s on your mind?” Scott asked as he gestured for her to take a seat.

“Oh. Well…” Elizabeth sat and waited for them both to retake their seats. “I wanted you both to be the first—well, the first outside of my friends and family to know—because I don’t want either of you to be surprised if it ends up in my medical reports for the trial.” She looked at Scott. “I’m pregnant.”

There was a long beat of silence as Scott digested that news, then looked at Taggert who looked very uncomfortable. “Ah—”

“My doctors—Monica and the OB I’m seeing—they’re going to do what they can to keep it from being obvious. Monica ran some tests at my checkup which gave the positive result, but while she’s consulting with my OB, her name never appears in the file.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I don’t think this counts as something you’d have to tell Ric, right?”

“Ah…” Scott pressed his lips together, still a little thrown. “Ah, no. I don’t think so. I mean, I have to tell him anything that might be evidence of his innocence.” He furrowed his brow. “Maybe if it discredits a witness or contradicts them, but I’ve got a lot of leeway with discretion.” He looked at Taggert. “Now, Ric would claim it’s evidence of an affair, am I right?”

“Yeah, probably.” Taggert cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly in his seat. “But I filed a report on the assault charges at the time. It was, and remains, my official opinion that the Sun was fed a false story in order to shake up the case. That’s the official PCPD statement as well, and Capelli was reprimanded for it.”

He looked at Elizabeth. “Are…are you okay? I mean, it’s not too soon?”

“My OB is optimistic that as long as I try to avoid stress and monitor my vitals I should be okay, but I was worried that Ric might get this information as part of my medical records, and I wanted you to be prepared for it, Mr. Baldwin.”

“Well, I appreciate that, Elizabeth. Like I said, there are a couple of things I’m being forced to hand over to Lansing—because he’s specifically requested it. If, as you say, the breadcrumbs are in your file and he doesn’t notice it, then, well…” Scott shrugged. “Not my problem, right?”

Elizabeth visibly relaxed, her shoulder slumping. “Thank you. I—I’ll be relocating to the Towers, though, starting this weekend. With Ric out on bail, even with the protective order, we’re both worried what he might do if he does figure out I’m pregnant.”

“After what he did when he just thought you were having an affair, I think that’s probably a smart move.”

Elizabeth thanked them again, then left. Scott turned to Taggert and just stared at him, the cop looking down almost blindly at the table.

“Avoid stress,” Scott repeated. “She’s supposed to avoid stress at the same time I’m prepping her to testify against a man who tried to kill her and—” He scowled, thinking back to the therapy notes he’d read. He knew more about Elizabeth Webber’s psyche than he ever needed to know anyone’s. “You’re investigating her rape which was bungled by the cops—”

“It’s more than that,” Taggert said with a sigh. “I interviewed the last of the previous victims today and started to really put together a picture of this guy. Scott, I don’t think Elizabeth is just the first known victim—she might be the first victim. The trigger victim. I think this guy knows her.”

“Fuck me.” Scott scrubbed his hands over his face. “Tell me everything.”

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
– Mad World, Gary Jules

---

Wednesday, September 10, 2003

PCPD: Squad Room

Vinnie shook his head vehemently as he read through the report Taggert had written, linking together the first trio of cases. “No way in hell,” he muttered as he flipped through the statements. “No way I could have made the connection. They were months, years apart. The profiles didn’t match—”

Taggert sighed, rubbed his eyes. “No one is blaming you for not linking these,” he told the younger man, patiently. It was a demoralizing feeling to know that you had failed the people you were supposed to protect, even when you were doing your best to do the job. “You were a patrol officer when the Webber and Lopez cases happened—”

“I—” Vinnie exhaled slowly. “But I should have seen it, I guess. All in the park. All near a fountain.” He shifted at his desk, uncomfortable. “And there’s DNA?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think we’d get hits on all the cases, but maybe this asshole is either dumb as a rock or too cocky that we won’t catch him.” Taggert shrugged. “After five years, he’s probably just used to getting away with it. That’s why he’s not changing his signature.”

“Signature?” Vinnie frowned. “What, the fountain?”

“He’s hit all four fountains almost twice. The only one he hasn’t gone after again is the Martin Memorial for some reason.” Taggert rubbed his chin.

“Well it wasn’t there before 2001.” Vinnie furrowed his brow. “Yeah — I think they built it after I moved to Buffalo. I remember coming home that summer and reading about it.”

“So, he hasn’t gotten around to it.” Taggert made a notation to double check that information. “Well, we got uniforms all over the park now. He won’t be able to do this crap again.”

Vinnie was quiet for a long moment. “I thought they caught the guy in the Webber case,” he said finally. “What’s the deal with that?”

“It’s a long story,” Taggert replied, leaving it at that. “Look, no one blames you—”

“You don’t blame me, maybe, but I bet when this hits the papers, the mayor is going to come for my ass. Ashton is kicking him up and down the street in the polls now.” Vinnie shook his head. “No, they’re going to make me the bad guy.”

“Maybe,” Taggert allowed, but he privately agreed. Floyd was nothing if not selfish and conniving. He’d already sacrificed innocent women to maintain his public profile. What were the odds a lazy, idiot cop like Vinnie would escape the pressure? “Look, I’ll do what I can. You’re not on this case officially which should smooth a lot of feathers. If they think you screwed up before, we’ll just remind them what you were working with. An understaffed unit without much of a budget for lab work.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time to think about a transfer,” Vinnie muttered. “I never should have come back to Port Charles. What a goddamn waste of my time.”

General Hospital: Monica’s Office

Monica was both pleased and a little bit worried when her receptionist reported that her son was there to see her. In the months since Carly’s kidnapping and Elizabeth’s illness, she was happy that her relationship with Jason had taken a more positive turn but that didn’t mean he dropped in for no reason at all.

She’d been thinking about Jason and Elizabeth since Elizabeth’s appointment a few days earlier, worrying over them. She’d even spent some time with Lila and Emily as they worried together. She worried Elizabeth might make a decision she’d regret later—or that this might lead to a setback and another blood clot.

There was only so much Monica could control with medical treatments. So much of medicine was still up to the individual and the universe.

“Jason, hello. I wasn’t expecting you.” She embraced him lightly and quickly, which he allowed, and she savored. “I don’t have to guess why you’re here.”

“I know you can’t tell me anything about her case,” Jason told her as they sat on the small sofa in the corner of her office. “I guess…” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m here, not really.” He looked at her. “You were honest with me when Elizabeth was in the hospital. You told me it’d be a miracle if she survived after the cardiac arrest.”

“We were lucky,” Monica admitted. “I’ve had other patients under similar circumstances that didn’t make it.” She pursed her lips. “I hate telling you how much of this is a crap shoot, Jason. The OB/GYN she’s seeing Friday will hopefully have some more concrete information for you.”

“If she were anyone else,” Jason said slowly, as he stared down at his hands. “Would you recommend going through with the pregnancy?”

Monica bit her lip. “It’s not my position to say one way or the other, Jason. Have you and Elizabeth talked about this?”

“Yeah.” He sat back and scrubbed his face with his hands. “She brought up not having the baby, but—I know this is something she wants. It’s something I want. Just…not like this. Not when we have to think about what it might cost us.”

“Jason—”

He shook his head. “But I know I’ve come down too hard on making safe choices, and she doesn’t want to live like that. Maybe everything will be fine.”

“And it might very well be, Jason. She’ll have the best medical care money can offer,” Monica reminded him. “Access to the best doctors in the state, if not the country. Any medicine she needs. Any scans. Weekly visits if that’s what Dr. Lee recommends. I know you’re worried. Jason—” She touched his forearm, waiting until he turned to look at her. “I know what it was like to wait that night in the hospital. To watch her struggle for breath and her heart stop in front of you. I’ve been through it with your father and his heart problems. With Edward and his.”

“All the money in the world doesn’t make her body stronger,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t change the fact that she was drugged for months, had a miscarriage, an overdose, an embolism, cardiac arrest—Monica, is she really strong enough to do this?”

“I can tell you that her scans are clear for blood clots,” Monica said. “That while I worry about long term organ problems, we haven’t detected any damage to either her heart or her lungs. That doesn’t mean they’re in perfect condition, but Elizabeth recovered from all of that as well as anyone could after two months.”

Jason didn’t say anything, so Monica continued. “I understand being terrified for the person you love. Being afraid to hope for the best because you’re not used to the universe being on your side.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason took a deep breath. “She said we got a miracle this summer. When she didn’t die. And she’s afraid—I’m afraid that she’s right. How many miracles do we get? How many times does she get to risk her life without—”

“There’s another way of looking at what happened this summer,” Monica told him. “I have to believe that maybe Elizabeth was spared—if she fought back because this is what was supposed to happen. Maybe this baby—this child neither of you planned but both of you want—maybe this is the miracle you were waiting for.”

“I don’t know if I can believe that. If I can…” Jason shook his head, falling silent. “But that’s the kind of thing that Elizabeth could believe. I don’t really have dreams, not like she does. She’s always been able to look at things and see the good in them.”

“I will be here for you any time you want to worry without making Elizabeth upset,” Monica offered. “And you know that your grandmother and sister will be here for you both. I hope for the best after your doctor’s appointment, Jason, I really do. I want to see you happy—I want you to both be happy.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

“I feel like I haven’t done anything except worry and think about this,” Elizabeth said with a sigh as Georgie served her and Bobbie their lunches.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Bobbie offered as Georgie went back inside. “We can talk about something else. Anything else.”

“Like what?” Elizabeth muttered, stabbing at her salad. “The mayoral race? Where poor Brooke Lynn gets dragged through the mud every five minutes by Floyd and his team?” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not good company today.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to be any kind of company for me,” Bobbie told her. “We can just sit here and eat quietly. We can talk about television. Bad music.”

Elizabeth set her fork down and looked at Bobbie. “The thing is that I think I know what I want to do. I’m just…I’m scared that this doctor will tell me something that will make me change my mind or that I’ll look at Jason and how worried he is—” She bit her lip.

Bobbie moved to the seat directly next to Elizabeth so she could take the younger woman’s hand in hers. “You have to do what’s right for you. And that’s such a useless thing to say because how do you even know what’s right for you?”

“I just…I’m scared of the risks, but part of me is…I’m really happy. Losing the baby in May—even with everything I know about how the drugs Ric gave me might have hurt her, even knowing it was Ric’s child—” Her voice was tight as she tried to force the words out. “I wanted that baby more than I ever thought I would. And now, to have another chance at being a mother, to create a family with Jason—this is everything I ever wanted in my life. And I can’t stand the idea that Ric might take this away from me, too.”

“Sweetheart—”

“I hate that he’s still in my life. Even when he’s not actually here in Port Charles, even when I’m not thinking about the trial, the reason I don’t get to be excited about being a mother is because he stole it from me. I can’t let him keep running my life.”

“That’s true,” Bobbie said slowly, “but—”

“I just want Jason to be happy, too. I don’t want him to spend the next eight months with that look on his face—I want him to be excited—” Elizabeth shook her head and shoved her plate away, her appetite disappearing. “Everything about our life together so far has been haunted by Ric. We couldn’t even have sex without an oxygen mask nearby—’” She broke off, flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry that this is happening,” Bobbie told her. “And you’re not wrong to worry that it will be difficult for Jason to see this as a blessing. But you’re seeing the doctor on Friday. And she might give you guys something more concrete to hold on to. You’re both getting yourselves so worried and caught up in something that might not end up being that serious.”

“I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t seem to work.” She sighed. “And if we do go through with it, of course, I’m worried about what happens with the trial. I mean, Ric’s kept away from us, but—” She met Bobbie’s eyes. “He went insane after I lost the baby. I mean, he was already pretty far gone before that. I know that now. But he kidnapped Carly to get to her baby. He wanted to replace our child with hers. And now…”

“And now you’re pregnant.” Bobbie sat back in her chair. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Can I even keep this from him? It doesn’t feel like it’s relevant, but maybe…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “It’s just one more thing Ric is controlling, and I hate it. I should…if I go through with it and keep the baby, I should warn Scott. But then is he honor bound to turn it over?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Bobbie admitted. “But let’s take this one step at a time and get you through this appointment. We can cross all those bridges after that. And you know you’re not going through this alone. You or Jason. I’m here for you. Emily. Monica. I’m sure Lila. And Edward—” Bobbie pursed her lips. “Well, we’ll see what works out. Oh!” Bobbie snapped her fingers. “And I completely forgot — Nikolas is coming home on Friday.”

“Oh?” Elizabeth managed a smile. “I knew he was planning it soon, but that was more quickly than I expected. What about the rest of the family? Is Laura coming home, too?”

“Laura will be transferred to Shadybrooke in another month,” Bobbie said, “but Nikolas seems to think she’ll be on outpatient treatment soon. She might even be home by Thanksgiving.”

“Well, that’s good news. I know how hard it’s been for your family since she got sick.” Elizabeth grimaced as her phone rang. “One second.” She opened the phone and her scowl deepened. “Sarah. Hey—really? Okay. Okay. Sure. Yeah, I—I’ll figure something out.”

After the brief conversation, Elizabeth tossed her phone in her purse. “First time I’ve heard from her since Gram died.”

“What did she want?” Bobbie asked as Elizabeth started to search for her wallet. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. She’s interviewing for a position at Mercy tomorrow and her hotel reservation got lost.” She managed a humorless smile. “She wanted to know if she could stay with me.”

“With you?” Bobbie repeated. “That’s…”

“Not something I need right now. The idea of my sister in the same city as me, even if it’s across town—” Elizabeth tossed some bills down. “Maybe Jason and I can avoid her, and she can stay at my place while we go to the penthouse or something.”

“Do you have to go take care of it now?”

“Yeah, I have to give her name to the guards in the front lobby, so they’ll let her in. She’s at the airport now.” Elizabeth got to her feet. “I’m…I don’t know how much she knows about what’s going on, so if you see her—”

“I won’t say a word.” Bobbie hugged her. “Good luck. And call me tomorrow.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac stared down at the report Taggert had prepared, including the lab reports and the more detailed statements from the victims who had agreed to be re-interviewed.

It was like a shot to the gut to realize just how badly he had handled the sexual assault cases during his tenure—how incredibly he had failed the women he had sworn to protect.

“Mac, I need to understand,” Taggert said, drawing his attention up to look at his lieutenant seated across from him. “I need to understand what happened with Elizabeth Webber’s case. Because she’s going to ask, and I can’t—” He shook his head. “I won’t lie to her. I won’t pretend that she wasn’t lied to. We told her that the dress came back negative.”

Mac exhaled slowly. “You have to understand that I honestly thought Tom Baker was the guy. I believed her—I still believe—that he said something to her, that he did something that convinced Elizabeth that he had confessed. I believed her.”

“I did, too,” Taggert admitted. “I went back and looked at the statement — based on her own words, she said it first. And he ran with it. He repeated a phrase her rapist had used—and Elizabeth accused him of being the guy. I think he ran with it to control the situation. To get her locked up so he could escape.” He rubbed his head. “Knowing now that he’s been excluded, that makes sense. But then—I wanted to believe it was him, too. Because I wanted that nightmare to be over.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t explain what you did with the rape kit—”

“Floyd was concerned that Baker’s case would drag on,” Mac cut in with a weary sigh. “Edward Quartermaine was putting all kinds of pressure on him because of Emily’s involvement, and when I told him that we wouldn’t be able to fast-track the trial because of the rape investigation—because it would take six weeks, maybe more to get those results back—he hit the roof.”

“He wasn’t even up for election,” Taggert said, his lips curling in disgust. “Why the hell—”

“Because he was, and remains, terrified of pissing off the Quartermaines. He wants me to feed the department to the wolves and blame my officers for this rape case—he’s going to want Vinnie’s head on a stick so he can parade it around.” Mac rubbed his eyes. “But I thought Baker was the guy. And I thought—well, maybe I can spare her the trial. I can make it so this is easier for Elizabeth. She doesn’t have to go up and confront him. He was gonna go down for twenty-five years on the kidnapping charges. So, I told you I’d take care of the kit but that we were going to mark it for cold storage.”

Taggert shook his head. “That doesn’t explain—”

“At the trial, after Elizabeth accused Baker in open court—Edward Quartermaine made another call. He hadn’t known the rape case was part of this. Had no idea what had happened to Elizabeth. He wanted Floyd to do something to help her. To make it better.”

“So why—”

“Because of the mistrial. We were lucky to get that quick date in December. The next opening wasn’t until March — and a rape investigation might not have been done by then. Floyd did not want this case dragging through the spring and into the election season. He wanted me to make it go away. And by then, Dara Jensen was worried that she might not be able to convict him at a second trial. She wanted to make a deal.”

“So why falsify the lab report?” Taggert demanded. “Why bury her damn case, Mac?”

“Because Floyd needed the Quartermaines off his back.” Mac shook his head. “Making it look like that case could never get off the ground. Baker goes to jail for five to fifteen years and we give Edward Quartermaine the news that there simply wasn’t enough evidence to go after him on the rape. The report was supposed to back that up if anyone looked. And…”

“You made sure no one looked.” Taggert glared at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? You hid her file, you went out of your way—”

“I thought Baker was the guy. I was trying to protect her and Emily. And my job, yeah.” Mac’s stomach twisted. “Because I had a family, too. And Floyd threatened to fire me. I put it away. I had to. And then Sonny Corinthos was back, and the mob wars started again—I got distracted. The garage fire. The Cassadine crap.”

“You threw her away, Mac. You and Floyd. And you made me part of it.” Taggert shook his head. “Two more women were raped after Elizabeth. Then four more this year. All of that we could have stopped—”

“Could we have?” Mac demanded. “Doesn’t change the fact that we didn’t have the money to change the policy on testing rape kits. Didn’t change the fact that senior officers flee this town like their asses are on fire. That second part is on me—I’ll admit it. The PCPD isn’t such a great place to work. But I did the best I could—”

“Yeah, well, your best isn’t good enough.” Taggert’s mouth twisted as he got to his feet. “Six women were traumatized because you wanted to keep your job.” He raised his brows. “But you won’t have to worry about that for too long, will you, Mac? Latest polls show that Ned Ashton is going to clean Floyd’s clock in two months.”

“And until then, you still work for me,” Mac reminded him, getting to his feet. “I made mistakes. I’m not perfect. But don’t pretend that you’re any better than me. We’ve all been selfish. We’ve all ignored the oath we swore—so how about you stop standing in judgment of me and go do your damn job.”

Elizabeth’s Condo: Living Room

Sarah had left Port Charles the year before to take up a residency program in Los Angeles, and she and Elizabeth had barely stayed in touch. A few phone calls around the time their grandmother had died—mostly Sarah making her excuses for not being able to make it and sending her bank account information so that Elizabeth could transfer her inheritance.

She met her sister in the lobby of the building, finding Sarah eying the men behind the desk with an air of suspicion. “Sarah, uh, hey.”

Awkwardly, they embraced, then Elizabeth led her to the elevators. “What brings you back to Port Charles?” she asked as they stepped into the car.

“Oh. Well, after Gram died, I felt bad about not being around more,” Sarah offered, with a shrug. “I don’t want to work at General Hospital—too much pressure to live up to Gramps and Dad, I think. But Mercy offered a fellowship.” She glanced at her sister. “Last time I was here, you were living in that rat trap on the docks. This is an upgrade.”

“Yeah, Nikolas helped me find it,” Elizabeth said, as the doors slid open and they started down the hall. “I only have the one bedroom, so you can stay here tonight. Jason and I are going to his place.”

“Jason?” Sarah repeated. She waited as Elizabeth unlocked her door. “You guys got back together?” She set her overnight bag on the sofa and started to walk around the room, checking inside the bathroom before heading for the kitchen. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as her sister inspected her apartment like it was a goddamn hotel room.

Sarah would never change, and in a lot of ways, there was a comfort in knowing that.

“Something like that,” Elizabeth said as she took her own overnight bag out of her closet and started to toss some things into it, from both her drawers and closet as well as Jason’s drawer.

“I knew you got married and you were separated—is that someone else? Steven didn’t know the details.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “But that last part didn’t sound like you.” She sat on the side of the bed, then frowned. She tugged on a piece of the plastic tubing that connected the mask to the oxygen mask. “What is this?”

Elizabeth sighed, wishing she’d had advance notice of her sister’s visit so she could have packed in advance. She took both pieces from her sister and tucked into the bag. “I got sick this summer—”

“Elizabeth—” Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, and just looked at her with those sad eyes Elizabeth remembered all too well. “I know we’re not close, but why didn’t you—”

“I couldn’t.” Elizabeth sighed. “I had a pulmonary embolism and went into cardiac arrest. Sometimes I have trouble breathing, but it’s mostly—it’s a long story, Sarah. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Cardiac—” Sarah’s face was pale as she pressed her fingers to her lips. “Jesus, Liz. Are you serious?”

“Yes, but I really am okay now.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “Look, yes, I got pregnant and married the father. He turned out to be…not a great guy on a lot of levels, okay? I lost the baby, and then later, I found out he was drugging me with birth control pills to keep me from getting pregnant again. That’s how I got the embolism. It was rough for a while, but I got better, and I’m okay now. I also filed for divorce. Jason and I got back together because after all of that, the reasons we were apart seemed incredibly stupid.”

Sarah blinked at her, then shook her head. “That can’t be all of it, Elizabeth. Something like that—why didn’t Nikolas or Lucky call me? Why didn’t Emily?”

“Because they didn’t. It’s—” Elizabeth met her sister’s eyes. “It’s really not something I want to go into right now, but if you end up coming back to Port Charles — if you take the job at Mercy, then we can get into it. Okay? You’re only in town for a night. Do you want to get dinner? Jason and I were going to go to Eli’s.”

“Okay. If Jason wouldn’t mind me tagging along.” Sarah folded her arms, looked away. “I should have come home for Gram. I should have been here for you—for her. I just—it’s hard to be here and not at the house. To know she and Gramps are both gone—it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be. But I should have been a better sister to you.”

“Well, as I learned this summer,” Elizabeth said after a long moment, “it’s never too late. C’mon. Jason and I are meeting at the restaurant.”

“Thank you for letting me stay on such short notice,” Sarah told her as the sisters headed for the doorway. “Really. I knew I could count on you.” She smiled, a bit of bitterness underneath it. “And I can’t say that about pretty much anything else.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Sarah—”

“I’m only in town for one night,” Sarah reminded her. “We’ll get into it if I move back home. Let’s go. I’ve missed Eli’s ribs and I want…I want to actually get to know Jason.”

What if I told your lies
What if you cried with my eyes
Could anyone keep us down
What if you were me
What if I were you
What if your hand was my hand
Could we hold on and let go
What if your life was my life
Can we love what we don’t know
– What If, Five For Fighting

---

Tuesday, September 9, 2003

 Quartermaine Estate: Garden

“Ugh. Why did I become a doctor again?” Emily demanded as she flopped down on the wicker loveseat next to Lila’s wheelchair and across from Elizabeth, seated in a wicker armchair. She’d just worked an overnight shift at General Hospital.  “You know, Mom and Dad made this crap look easy—”

“I tried to remind you you’re not a morning person,” Elizabeth said with a half-smile as she accepted the lemonade Reginald handed her before he refilled Lila’s glass and poured one for Emily. “But you wanted to be a doctor.”

“You love to say I told you so,” Emily muttered as she sipped her drink. “Hi, Grandmother.”

“Hello, dear. It’s nice of you to join us,” Lila said with her usual gracious smile. “Despite how tired you are. It makes me happy to have my darling girl home.” She hesitated. “I only wish Brooke Lynn could be here.”

“I know,” Emily said. “Lucky doesn’t talk much about the investigation, but at least there haven’t been more attacks.” She looked at Elizabeth. “What did you want to talk about? It sounded serious on the phone earlier.”

Elizabeth paused, unsure if she wanted to get into it around Lila, not wanting to worry the elderly woman after everything she had been through this summer. But she had always appreciated the relationship Lila had with the rest of the Quartermaines, especially Jason and Emily.  “I had my check up with Monica yesterday, and she told me something I wasn’t really expecting.” She bit her lip. “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant,” Emily repeated, her eyes widening. She traded a look with her grandmother who, to her credit, looked as apprehensive as Elizabeth felt. “That’s…is that safe? I mean…”

“Monica said it’s not her area,” Elizabeth said. “And she wants me to talk to someone to specializes in high-risk pregnancies because…”

“Forgive me, my dear,” Lila said gently. “Is there a precise health concern or is Monica worried you haven’t entirely recovered?”

Remembering that Lila had had her children in the 1940s and might not be familiar with the risks they knew about now, Elizabeth told her about the blood clots and risk factors of embolisms in pregnancy as well as the probability that faulty condoms from an ELQ company might be to blame for the surprise. “The thing this, Monica said this isn’t an area that’s been studied a lot.”

“Yeah, women’s health is, like, at the bottom of the list,” Emily said, grimacing. “Robin complains about it when we email each other. She wants to specialize in medical research, but she had trouble getting funding for anything that didn’t benefit men more.” She rolled her eyes. “And God forbid we study pregnancy — I mean, women only keep the species going—”

“Darling,” Lila said, bringing Emily back to the conversation. She looked back to Elizabeth. “So there isn’t a lot that Monica can tell you?”

“Beyond the fact that, having already suffered a pulmonary embolism accompanied with cardiac arrest and a mild heart attack—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, because she couldn’t understand how that was her life. How that was now her medical history. “Having had those conditions, my risk level is elevated. There’s some thought that it drops after a year, then further after five. But nothing right on point about percentages.”

“And I guess she doesn’t really feel qualified to tell you how pregnancy might raise that risk factor,” Emily offered. “I mean, it does, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. She thought so. I could have a blood clot tomorrow. Six months. Right after the birth. And I think she’s also worried about the stress on my heart and my lungs.” Elizabeth rubbed a restless hand against her chest. “Jason and I talked about having kids down the road, but this…this feels so soon.”

“What does Jason say, my dear?” Lila asked.

“All the right things,” Elizabeth said, shrugging one shoulder. “He’ll support me whatever I decide, but…he’s not telling me what he actually thinks. Maybe he’s afraid to sway me either way.”

“Maybe,” Emily admitted. “But you know he’s been…you guys have argued more than once about your health and recovery. He’s tried to step back from worrying too much.”

“I just…I don’t know what I want to do.” Elizabeth set her glass down on the little table in the middle before staring down at her lap, at her hands tightly clasped. “I want children. After the miscarriage, I knew it was something I really wanted. And Jason was such a good father to Michael. I know he wants children, too. But…”

“But at what cost?” Emily asked, tilting her head. “You’d be insane not to think about the alternatives, Elizabeth. There’s no law that says you have to have this baby because the Quartermaines are bad at making condoms.”

“I just…those last few hours before I collapsed — the chest pains, the struggle to breathe. I can remember that last phone call with Jason, trying to find the button to free Carly—and then everything just goes dark. I don’t even remember, not really, laying on the floor, talking to him. Waiting for the paramedics. And then when I woke up, it hurt to breathe. It took me almost a week before I could walk down the halls in the hospital. Two weeks before I could go home.”

“You came so close to dying.” Emily leaned forward. “I can still remember the fear in Bobbie’s voice when we talked on the phone, and I was terrified you might die before I could get home. Mom said it was that close. You almost died, Elizabeth. Don’t blame yourself for not wanting to do something that puts that back on the table.”

“But what if the way I feel is just that? It’s an emotion. I’m terrified, Emily,” Elizabeth admitted. “I don’t want to die…but I also don’t to turn away from something I know that I want because of how scared I am.”

She waited a long moment before continuing. “And I also…I’m also scared that if I were to—if I decided to terminate the pregnancy, I don’t know if that’s something Jason can live with.”

“I think,” Emily said, carefully, “that Jason would probably be okay. He’s always been logical about these kinds of things. If having kids right now is a risk to your life, can you honestly see Jason telling you he’d rather have the chance at a child than you?”

“No, but…” She bit her lip. “I don’t know. And I don’t even know how long I have to make up my mind.”

“I think you’re right,” Emily told her. “That right now, everything is an emotion. Mom even said this isn’t something she can really talk about with any expertise. She can talk about conditions to minimize another PE, but she doesn’t know if there are ways to do that with pregnancy. Make the appointment with the OB/GYN. Maybe what you’re worried about isn’t as bad as you think. Maybe it is. But at this point—”

“It’s all just worry and fears.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I can live with that. Wait to talk to the doctor.”

“And, my darling,” Lila said, “whatever you decide in the end, this family will support you.” She offered her hand. Elizabeth grasped it, taking her first easy breath since her appointment the day before.

Warehouse: Sonny’s Office

Jason had planned to talk to Sonny about Elizabeth’s pregnancy when he got to work that morning, hoping that Sonny might have something…anything to offer him in the way of comfort or advice. He’d always been able to take his problems to Sonny in the beginning of their friendship, but Jason could see now he’d been doing that less and less over the last few years—

And Sonny had drifted away from him in a lot of ways, becoming less and less concerned with Jason’s life. When Carly had gone missing that summer, Jason’s entire life had become laser focused on getting her back. Elizabeth had been kidnapped the previous summer, and Sonny had offered little to no help at all.

It was frustrating to admit that Jason wasn’t sure exactly when their friendship had gone off the rails — maybe it was wrong to blame Sonny when Jason knew he’d stopped talking to Sonny in a lot of ways after that terrible December night when Carly had waltzed down the penthouse stairs, clad only in a badly buttoned dress shirt.

When Jason arrived at the office, however, Sonny was already complaining to Bernie and Johnny O’Brien, one of their guys in charge of security, about an argument he’d had with Carly.

When Jason appeared in the doorway, Sonny scowled and gestured at him, saying to Bernie and Johnny, “And look, here’s someone else who doesn’t seem to get it! That fucker has to die!”

Johnny glanced at Jason out of the corner of his eye, lifting his brows slightly as if to offer an apology.

“We’ve been over this,” Johnny said, patiently. “You don’t want to give the PCPD any reason to look at us while Bernie and Justus are still getting the paperwork in order. We had six months without a business manager and full-time attorney.”

“I’m tired of sitting around and waiting. You saw how the system worked against Elizabeth,” Sonny shot at Jason. “Taking you off her case, putting her under Ric’s control—”

“For less than a day,” Jason retorted. “But we got it back. And forget the heat the PCPD would put on us, I’m not convinced that going after Ric wouldn’t also put Trevor Lansing on us. We don’t know if he was involved in any of it—”

“Oh, I thought it wasn’t business,” Sonny drawled, raising his brows in a truly impressive display of sarcastic concern. “You told me it was personal—”

“Kidnapping Carly was,” Jason insisted. “If she’d been part of the plan, no way in hell she’s put in a panic room and kept there. But Ric came to town working with Faith Roscoe. Trevor called him to Crimson Point right at the beginning of all of this. Lansing might just need an excuse to give Zacchara to justify going after us. We don’t know that yet.”

He shook his head. “Right now, everything is quiet. No one is making any noises about Ric being free and alive. Business is moving along. Carly’s in her third trimester, and Elizabeth—”

Jason pressed his lips together. Was this even the time to tell Sonny that Elizabeth was pregnant? That she might end up in a high-risk pregnancy where stress needed to be avoided at all costs?

“I promised Elizabeth and Carly that I would do what they needed when it came to Ric,” Jason reminded Sonny. “I’m not breaking it.”

“Who the hell are you to promise my wife anything?” Sonny demanded.

Johnny and Bernie traded glances at each other that Sonny caught. He turned his attention back to them. “Oh, yeah, I get it. Jason’s the guy that found her so he gets to be in charge, right? Is that what you’re thinking?”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Johnny said quickly. “It’s not my job to think.”

“Damn right,” Sonny muttered. He looked at Jason. “Is that what this is? You want to be in charge? You don’t trust my judgement?”

How the hell had it gotten to this? Jason blinked, trying to understand exactly what Sonny’s problem was.

“When it comes to Ric, no,” he admitted. “You’re angry at yourself for not taking care of him in May. I’m angry at myself, too. We could have spared everyone a lot of grief. But you had your reasons then, and I agreed to let you deal with it. Because Ric was your brother. Your problem to fix.”

Jason shook his head. “But he didn’t just go after you. He went after Carly. Your wife. Twice. He went after your sister. But he nearly killed Elizabeth. Twice. He drugged her for months, Sonny, and then he assaulted her. All Elizabeth ever did was help us. She put her life on the line to bring Carly home. Because of me. Because of you. And because that’s who she is. The night Carly went missing—”

Sonny exhaled slowly closing her eyes. “She was barely able to stand on her feet, but she took our side. Refused to leave. Wanted to help.” He sank into the chair behind his desk. Behind Jason, Johnny and Bernie both left without another word.

“You think I don’t want Ric gone?” Jason asked, a bit more quietly. “I want him out of our lives, too. But that’s not going to make this over. Just having him killed isn’t going to end the nightmares for Carly or Elizabeth. They want their day in court. To face him. And then they want him to die in prison. That’s what they need. And after Elizabeth nearly died, after seeing the room Carly was held in, I have no issues letting them get what they need.”

Sonny didn’t say anything, so Jason continued. “Elizabeth found out yesterday that she’s pregnant.”

His partner’s head snapped up at that. “What? Now? It’s—” He shook his head. “It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

“It…wasn’t planned,” Jason said, not willing to go into the clusterfuck of ELQ and their faulty condoms. “With everything else that’s going on, after what happened with Brooke this summer, her sessions with Gail, the last thing I’m going to do is pressure her into doing something that makes my life easier. You can do whatever you want with Carly, but I’m not breaking my promise to Elizabeth. Not ever again.”

When Sonny had nothing else to say, Jason just left.

Manhattan: Courtney’s Apartment

Courtney stepped back to let her sister-in-law in, then hugged her nephew as Michael followed her, all bright smiles and happiness. She’d been surprised to hear from Carly—the first time since Courtney had moved from Port Charles to the city three weeks earlier but had agreed immediately to host Carly and Michael for a visit.

Sonny, Carly had informed her tersely, was not available.

After dinner with Michael, Courtney settled him in the guest room he would share with his mother before settling on the sofa with Carly in the living room. “So what brings you down to the city?”

Carly scowled. “I can’t visit my best friend? You moved. I missed you.”

Carly probably hadn’t thought much about her since Courtney had left the penthouse, but she let it slide. It wasn’t Carly’s fault, and one entered friendship with Carly realizing that she was relatively selfish. “Okay. Then tell me about the baby. How do you feel?”

“Like a parade float,” Carly muttered. She rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I needed to get away from Sonny. From my mother. From everyone. I feel like they’re all screaming I told you so and I am just…really not in the mood, you know?”

“Sonny still having issues?” Courtney asked quietly as she tucked one leg underneath her. “He was so angry after you came home. I mean, after the relief had passed. And I know he was pissed about what you and Liz wanted to do about Ric. Is that still an issue?”

“We don’t talk about it anymore,” Carly admitted. “He’s angry that I don’t seem to get how hard this was for him, and I guess—I guess I don’t get it. I don’t get how he thinks what he went through is so much more important than me. And if what happened to him—”

“The breakdown?” Courtney asked. “He hallucinated Lily, Carly. It was terrifying to see him like that. I honestly thought he’d be…”

“Committed?” Carly asked dryly. “Yeah, well…I used to think it was just…part of the marriage vows. For better or for worse. In sickness and health and all of that, but I guess…” She picked at the seam of the sofa. “I guess I took it for granted that the sickness part of that meant he would try to make himself better. Mama asked me why it was anyone else’s job but Sonny’s to give a damn about his mental health? Jason’s at the end of his rope—they’re arguing all the time.”

“Because Jason agrees with you,” Courtney said slowly, then sighed. “And because he probably promised Elizabeth he’d handle it her way.”

“Basically. And Sonny is just…so angry at all of us. Maybe I’m being selfish. If this bothers him so much—”

“Because Sonny’s a control freak,” Courtney said bluntly. “And that was clear this summer. Look, I made mistakes. And I—handled everything wrong. But Sonny fell apart. And that drives him insane. He couldn’t fix it. He’s not the one who brought you home. That was — that was Jason and Elizabeth. Your mother. Even Nikolas Cassadine who doesn’t even know you. All of them did more than Sonny. Demanding to deal with Ric, Carly? That’s Sonny trying to control everything again. And I’m sorry, but you’re not obligated to play into that.”

Carly bit her lip. “But—”

“I’m not denying that Sonny had a breakdown. That he was traumatized by the whole thing,” Courtney told her. “But you know what? It’s bullshit that he’s got you thinking you got to step back from something you need to make things better for him. When the hell is it your turn? You were kidnapped. Threatened with death. Locked in a room.” She shook her head. “Sonny should go see a therapist, figure out what’s wrong him, get on medicine, or whatever. But he needs to stop taking this out on you and Jason.”

Carly lifted her brows. “Where is this coming from?” she asked, shaking her head. “You and Sonny—”

“I don’t matter to Sonny,” Courtney told her. “Except as something he thinks he owns. I left Port Charles and you know what? He doesn’t call. He hasn’t bothered once. Bernie helped me sign the paperwork for this place, and my alimony from AJ is taking care of the bills for right now until I get a decent job. But my so-called brother only gave a damn about me when I was doing what he wanted.”

She took a deep breath. “Time and distance from Port Charles, even after three weeks, it’s put things into perspective. I didn’t like the person I was turning into there, Carly. Being around Sonny—having my life revolve around the rules necessary to be part of it—it was driving me out of my mind. I was going to marry a man who didn’t love me—who I knew didn’t love me—because it brought me closer to Sonny. I deserve better than that, you know? And so do you.”

She got up from the sofa and peered out the window. “You said Elizabeth agreed with you about wanting to testify, about wanting Ric to rot in prison.”

“Yes,” Carly said, her tone hesitant. She rubbed her belly absently. “So what?”

“Do you know if she had to talk Jason into it? Or did she explain herself and he said, yes. That’s it. You need this, so this is what we’ll do.” Courtney looked back at her sister-in-law. “Because he loves her. Because he loves you. He’s not just fighting with Sonny over a promise he made to Elizabeth, is he?”

“No,” Carly admitted quietly. “He promised me the same. And he told me that Elizabeth—that she said if I wanted Ric gone, it was up to me. She’d do whatever I need.” She shook her head. “Sanctimonious little martyr,” she muttered, but the words were without heat and almost an automatic defense. Carly didn’t bend easily.

“Everyone traumatized by this summer, Carly, is on your side. Jason and Elizabeth want what you need. Bobbie probably wants what you need. Everyone else who matters agrees with you. So why is it that you think you need to change for Sonny?”

Condo: Living Room

Elizabeth was frowning at a pot of sauce on the stove when Jason got home from work that night. One of the few recipes he’d taught her was a simple tomato sauce—because, as she’d said to him with a roll of her eyes—even an idiot could boil pasta.

“What’s wrong with the sauce?” he asked, after tossing his jacket over the back of the sofa. “You look like it’s burning.”

“I think I did something wrong,” she muttered. She held out a spoon for him to taste and his eyes nearly crossed at the amount of salt. “Yeah, see? I don’t know how that much salt got in there, but it’s there and it’s ruining—”

“Let’s just heat up the lasagna from the other night,” he suggested, kissing the top of her forehead. She turned off the burner, then switched the oven on for preheat. “Did you go to see Lila today?”

“Yeah, but it’s already starting to get too chilly to sit in the garden,” Elizabeth said, leaning against the counter. “At least for Lila. We’ll probably have to move inside in another week or so. Emily stopped by, too.” She bit her lip. “I told them about…” She looked away. “I told them,” she repeated.

“I told Sonny,” Jason admitted. He pulled the foil-wrapped lasagna from the refrigerator and set it on the counter, waiting for the oven to beep. “Not all of it. We were arguing about Ric again.”

“Still?” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “It feels like that should be settled. I mean—if Carly changes her mind, fine. But I don’t get—” She crossed her arms. “I mean, I guess I get why Sonny’s still mad, but what good does it do at this point?”

“Not much.” Jason glanced at her, then busied himself doing the few dishes left in the sink from breakfast. “What did Emily and Lila say?”

“I think when we talked about it yesterday,” Elizabeth said slowly, “part of you wanted to put an option on the table but you didn’t want to say it outright. When you said you’d support whatever decision I made, you meant…you meant I could have an abortion.”

The kitchen was quiet for a long moment as Jason thought carefully about his next words. He set the last plate in the dish rack, then dried his hands. “I—” He shook his head, turned back to face her. “Yeah. I guess I think it should be an option.”

“I think so, too,” Elizabeth said softly. “I was afraid to say it out loud. Because I know a baby is something we’ve both talked about wanting. At some point. And it feels like we got this surprise, and instead of being happy, we’ve both immediately—”

She shook her head and sat at the table. He joined her, sitting next to her. “We both immediately went to the risks. And I’m afraid that if we went through with the pregnancy, that’s what it would be. We wouldn’t be happy about the baby. We’d be scared all the time.”

He opened his mouth, then realized he didn’t really have anything to say to that. Because of course that was probably true. Hadn’t her health taken over everything since she’d left the hospital? The oxygen mask he still insisted on keeping ready on the side table despite not needing it for the last two weeks. The way he still took her pulse sometimes when she wasn’t paying attention.

Sometimes he woke with a start in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep until he was sure that her chest was rising and falling.

Keeping Elizabeth healthy had taken over almost all of his waking hours since she’d nearly died, and she was probably right—the next eight or nine months probably meant more of the same.

“And I have to admit, Jason—part of me is terrified that we’re right to worry. That…I could decide to take a risk and then maybe I get an embolism at five months or six months. And maybe I don’t get a miracle. Maybe this time that’s it.” Her voice broke. “And then you’re not just burying me, but the baby. And what if I get through labor, then have a clot? It happens then. Maybe the next clot will be an aneurysm in my brain.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d once been so good at ignoring the what-ifs, preferring to focus on the here and now. You couldn’t control the future, couldn’t stop it, so why bother trying?

But every one of those scenarios had run through his mind since she’d told him the news and probably a thousand other possibilities.

“If you’re worried about what I’d think if you decided to have an abortion,” Jason said slowly, “I told you. I need you here. Alive. Healthy. Whatever we have to do is worth that to me. We could adopt. There are surrogates—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips to quiet him. “And once I admitted that part of my fear was if you’d leave me if I didn’t have this child, if maybe I decided I never wanted to risk—I realized how insane that was. We’ve been through too much for any of that.” She took his hands in hers. “I’m scared, Jason. Because I don’t want to die. I feel like I’ve finally figured out my life, and I’m exactly where I want to be, you know?”

“So, you’re not going—”

“I also don’t want to live my life in fear,” she continued, cutting him off with a shake of her head. “Right now, that’s all you and I have. The fear. We don’t know if there’s a way we can go forward and feel confident.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “I mean, part of me feels like I got a miracle when I lived through the cardiac arrest and everything Ric did to me. What if that’s it? What if that’s the only miracle I get?”

Jason tugged her off the chair and onto his lap so he could wrap his arms around her, holding her as the sobs silently shook her shoulders.

“I don’t think that’s how miracles work,” he murmured, his cheek pressed against hers. “Everything inside of me is screaming at you not to take this risk. That nothing is worth the chance I might lose you.”

She drew back slightly so that their noses were touching. She framed his face with her hands, delicately wiping away his tears with her thumbs. “I don’t want to live my life running away from everything that scares me. I ran away from you. Twice. I want to stop running, Jason.”

He nodded, understanding where she was going with this. “You’re saying we don’t have enough information to make this kind of decision.”

“Having a family is our dream, Jason. And yeah, you and me? That’s enough for me. Because I love you and I know that you love me. But we both want children. And the universe…I can’t believe the universe would be so cruel to give this to us when we weren’t expecting it. So…Monica called and told me that she’d arranged for an appointment with a doctor at the hospital later this week. She’s one of the best in the state. And we’ll…take it one step at a time.”

“Okay.” Jason nodded. “Okay.” Behind them, the oven beeped, and he sighed. “I’ll go put in dinner. We should both eat.”

She lifted herself off his lap and watched as he went back into the kitchen. “Jason, if we decide to keep the baby, promise me that we’ll try to be more excited than we are scared.”

“I—” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can promise that.” Jason looked at her, feeling a bit helpless at her undaunted courage because he knew—even if she didn’t—that somewhere inside of her, she’d already made the choice. “But I will love you and the baby, and we’ll get through it together.”