May 13, 2021

Update Link: Chapter 22

Happy Thursday! I’m so excited for you guys to read this chapter. It was added in revisions as I wanted to beef up the Sam/Krissy storyline, add more Oscar, and deepen the Liason connection. This is definitely one of my favorite Liason scenes in the story so far.

In other news, I finally got the official word that I’d be back next year teaching French! It’s going to be such a different experience this summer, knowing that I have a place in September and a steady paycheck. If I get my French certification by next April (which is the plan), I have a relatively assured position in the district. Teaching French wasn’t the dream, but I love my students so I can make this work.

I’ll see you guys on Monday for the next chapter!

This entry is part 22 of 38 in the Fool Me Twice: Ricochet

And now I’m crying
Isn’t that what you want
And I’m trying to live my life on my own
But I’m holding on to old times
I do believe I am strong
So someone tell me why do I feel stupid?
Mad Season, Matchbox Twenty


September 2012

General Hospital: Chapel

Elizabeth sat down in the front pew and sighed, rubbing the side of her face. “I’m so tired of funerals.”

Next to her, Patrick shifted and checked his watch. “Not that I wouldn’t follow you into the bowels of hell,” he began, “but why are we at the service for the man who tried to kill you?”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow, staring at the altar in the front of the room at the urn holding Ewen Keenan’s ashes. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think because someone should be here. And I don’t—” She looked at him. “I’m not sure he did try to kill me. Or if that was actually the plan before Jason showed up and he panicked.”

“No? Didn’t you tell the PCPD that Jason killed him to save your life?” Patrick asked, his brows raised. Elizabeth’s lips curved into a slight smirk. “Or was that a lifetime of protecting Morgan kicking in?”

“I think Ewen was a desperate man with too many secrets.” She folded her arms. “He always seemed like he wanted to tell me something, but he would always stop short. He would look at me—and I would say or do something to let him down—”

“Oh, what, you should have been an easier mark? Elizabeth, the man manipulated you from the day you met. He constantly put you in a position where you had to defend yourself. Just like everyone else you know,” Patrick muttered. “Whatever secrets that man kept? You’re better off in the dark.”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “He knew me. He understood me—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I don’t mean that in a good way—” She paused. “That first night I met him, I knew he was familiar to me. I look back now and I can see that it was a setup. He was painting across the hall from me with ocean sounds playing in the background. He knew I took honey in my tea. And I think—” She paused. “I thought at first that he was just—after he saved my life, that he was trying to get close to me—”

“Freak,” Patrick grumbled.

“But I don’t know. He said he loved me at the end, but it never felt real. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t commit to him. There always seemed to be something underneath I couldn’t touch. That he’d never let me see.” Her eyes burned as she saw the hospital’s chaplain come in and start to set up at the podium. “He was part of this whole plan with Jerry Jacks to poison the town. Why couldn’t I see that in him?”

“Because you’re dealing with enough, Elizabeth, and you shouldn’t have to wonder if every guy you’re dating is in league with a super villain.” Patrick took her hand and squeezed it between both of his. “Whatever secrets Ewen Keenan was keeping, he took them to his grave.”

“I just—what do you think they were? Why do you think he was…”

“Obsessed with you?” Patrick asked. “Maybe it’s nothing more complicated than that. He got fixated on you after he saved your life, and went insane when he couldn’t control you or have you on his terms.”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth brushed at the tears on her cheek. “Maybe.”

“We’ll let the chaplain say his nice, comforting words, and then we’ll let Ewen Keenan fade into memory. Whatever he wanted from you, Elizabeth, it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re safe. It’s over.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “It’s over.”

Monday, November 13, 2017

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Scott stirred sugar into his coffee and studied his sullen son across the table from him, trying to think of the best way to broach the subject of Elizabeth and her children. What she’d told him about Cameron.

“What’s on your mind, Pop?” Franco said finally, setting his fork down. “You’re staring at me like you wanna say something.”

Scott rubbed his chin. “I, uh, had some words with Elizabeth last week,” he said finally. Franco made a face. “We were dealing with some paperwork, and she mentioned that maybe you’ve been bothering her at work—”

“Bothering her?” Franco repeated. “That’s bullshit—”

“She also told me about Cameron.”

His son closed his mouth and his scowl deepened. “Oh, I bet she did. She acts like I backhanded the little snot—” Franco paused, took a deep breath. “Look, I got into a fight with him, okay? I tried to apologize, but she wouldn’t hear it. She always takes his side—”

“His side,” Scott repeated. “He’s sixteen, Franco, and he’s her kid. She’s supposed to take his side. You’re the adult. You don’t get into a shoving match with a kid—”

“It wasn’t like that! I just—I wanted the stupid tablet, and he wouldn’t give it to me. He doesn’t have any respect—I just—” Franco huffed. “I grabbed his shirt—”

“Whatever happened,” Scott said, his stomach rolling at the idea of his son putting his hands on one of Elizabeth’s boys. One of Laura’s grandchildren. “Elizabeth has decided it was the deal breaker. She’s a mother first, Franco. You gotta respect her decision, okay?”

“She would have forgiven me if Morgan hadn’t showed up,” Franco muttered. “I told you, when he dumps her for Sam again, she’ll remember who actually gives a damn about her.”

Scott highly doubted that Elizabeth was ever going to give Franco another chance, but he didn’t think it would do any good to say that right now. “Fine. But leave her alone at the hospital—”

“You know, I don’t have to listen to this,” Franco snapped. He shoved his chair back and stormed out of the diner, passing Curtis Ashford on his way out. Scott twisted in his chair, frowning after his son.

“What’s his problem?” Curtis asked. He sat in Franco’s empty seat.

“Elizabeth dumped him.”

“About time,” Curtis said.

Scott scowled. “Did you need something?” He really didn’t want to listen anyone else’s diatribe about his son.

“Yeah, I’ve been looking into Drew Cain’s past,” Curtis said. “Knowing which twin is which doesn’t really explain how any of this happened, you know? Drew asked me to figure out how he ended up at the group home.”

Scott furrowed his brow. “And you need me for that?”

“Well,” Curtis drawled, “you were married to Drew and Jason’s biological mother, weren’t you?”

“For a minute, yeah.”

“Then maybe you could help us understand how Drew and Jason got separated at birth.”

Scott shook his head. “You know, I got clients to see.” He tossed some cash on the table. “See you around.”

“Scott—”

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

Nero Home: Oscar’s Bedroom

“You’re running late,” Kim said as she leaned against Oscar’s door frame. She sipped her coffee. “You need a ride to school?”

“No,” Oscar said, shoving his books into his backpack. “I’ll get to the bus stop in time. I just slept through my first alarm.” He grabbed his keys from his nightstand, grimacing when he knocked over a frame. He picked it up, then stared at for a minute.

It was the last photograph he had of himself with his parents. With his biological mother. His mother was clearly ill—her skin pale, her eyes slightly sunken. But her arms were wrapped around Oscar, sitting on her lap, grinning at the camera with a flash of his baby teeth. His father standing behind his mother, looking down at them.

He’d only been four when his mother died, nine when his father had gone AWOL. It was crazy to look at this picture sometimes and think that this kid had no idea what was going to happen to his family—

“Oscar?”

He looked up at his stepmother. “Sorry, I just—I got distracted.” He put the picture down, but still stared at the image of his mother. “He used to tell me stories about her.” He looked back at Kim. “But I don’t really remember her. Now he doesn’t either.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Oscar. This—” Kim sighed, stared down into her coffee cup. “You know, we’re signing paperwork to make sure the legalities—I mean—”

“You’re divorcing him,” Oscar said. “I know. Joss told me. She overheard Michael and his sister talking about it. Everyone’s getting a divorce to clear things up. Or something.”

“Yeah. It just—it makes sense to make sure we’re all free to do what right’s for us.” Kim paused. “The thing is, our paperwork says custody of you stays with me right now. Because this is comfortable for us, you know? And Drew wants you to be okay.”

Oscar frowned. “I—”

“But I wondered if it might—” She paused. “If you might want to go live with him. Or stay with him. Or something. I don’t know. Maybe it might help to get you two back on track. You guys were such a team, Oscar. I want you to have that again.”

“I don’t know,” Oscar said after a long moment. “We talked about spending time together, but I’m not—I’m not ready for that, Kim.”

“Okay, okay.” She shrugged and forced a smile. “I just—I want you to do what’s right for you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You’d better get going.” Kim stepped. “Or you really will miss your bus.”

Pozzulo’s Restaurant: Dining Room

With great reluctance, Michael slid into one of the empty booths across from Sonny and folded his hands on the table. “You wanted to see me?”

“I, uh, did.” Sonny sat back, stretching his arm across the back of his booth. “We haven’t really talked since everything happened last week.”

“I know.”

Sonny’s lipped thinned as he took in his son’s short, clipped tone. “I’m sorry. Not—” He paused. “Not about what happened years ago. I mean, I am sorry about that—I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life,” he continued when Michael’s eyes narrowed, “but I’m sorry that I didn’t see that we hadn’t resolved it. I’m sorry that I thought we were done with it.”

Michael exhaled slowly, some of the tension draining from his shoulders and expression. “I made a choice,” he said slowly, “to let you and Mom think I was done with it. I did that because the anger was going to eat me alive. Keeping you away from Avery, making sure Joss and Morgan were always in the middle—even Krissy felt the strain when she was around. It was going to destroy our family if I let it.”

“But keeping it locked up, Michael, it just makes it harder for you. I don’t want that. I don’t,” Sonny insisted when Michael just stared at him. “I can’t go back and do things differently. I did what I did. I shot your biological father and stayed silent about it for months. I sat by your side while you grieved and denied you justice—”

“You left him to die,” Michael said. “And you knew for sure Ava had murdered Connie. You could have cleared my father’s name. You knew he was innocent.” His eyes burned. “But you let people think he was a murderer. You and Mom can tell me all you want that it was to protect me—but I know you. I know you,” he repeated, “and there’s a part of you that isn’t sorry.”

Sonny swallowed hard. “Michael—”

“You’re sorry you hurt me. You’re sorry it created problems with Mom,” Michael continued. “But part of you is not sorry my father is dead. And that you were the one to end him. And that’s the part of you I can’t forgive.”

“You have to—” Sonny paused, uncomfortable with the truth in Michael’s words. “You have to understand that AJ and I were at odds for a long time—”

“I know it. I also know you chose to put yourself in the middle of all of that. You and my mother spent my entire life lying to me about how I ended up as Michael Corinthos. You made me think my father was a monster—” Michael tipped up his chin. “And you’re not sorry you did it.”

“I—”

“Jason’s sorry,” Michael continued. “I can understand his choices back then. But I don’t understand yours.”

“Listen—”

“You knew my mother was married when you had an affair with her, and you helped my mother get custody of me in the divorce. I know Jason did that, too,” Michael added. “But AJ didn’t mean anything to you. He’d never done a damn thing to you. At least Jason can point to the accident—”

“Michael—”

“You made sure AJ lost custody of me. And then you hung him on the meat hook to make sure he terminated his paternal rights. Yeah, I know about that,” Michael added when Sonny swallowed hard. “And by then, Sonny, you knew he didn’t push my mother down those damn stairs. You knew you were taking me away from him because you wanted to punish him. And then you made sure he could never get me back.” Michael shoved out of the booth.

“I lost a lifetime with my father because of you. Because of my mother—” Michael paused. “And because of Jason,” he added reluctantly. “But you know, I think only Jason is actually sorry. You and Mom? You’d do all it over again, even knowing how it turned out. Because you both feel justified. You feel righteous.”

“That’s not true—”

“Isn’t it?” Michael demanded. Sonny slid out of the booth. “Tell me. Are you sorry my father is dead?”

Sonny waited a beat, but he knew if he lied in this moment, he’d never get a chance to make this right. “No.”

“You raised me,” Michael said after a long moment, after absorbing the answer. “And there’s a part of me that will always love you. Will always think of you as my father. That’s why I was able to put this away. It’s why I’m going to put it away again,” he added. “Because we can’t fix this. You can’t go back. You can’t stop yourself from murdering from my father. He’s dead. He never gets another chance to get things right.”

“Michael, I don’t want this to hang between us—”

“It will always be there. Always,” Michael repeated. “But I lost Morgan, too. All I have left is my sisters. And Dante,” he added. “Avery—” He looked away, towards the front of the restaurant. “She’s too young to be dealing with this. She deserves her family to be together. So I’m putting it away.”

“But you won’t forgive me.”

“I—” Michael paused. “I thought I had,” he admitted. “I thought I could push it down, pretend it didn’t happen because I had forgiven you and Mom. But, no. There is no redemption for you, Sonny. Or my mother. Because in order to be redeemed, you have to show remorse. You’re sorry you hurt me. She’s sorry she hurt me. But the both of you? You’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He turned to face Sonny fully. “I’m sorry. But that’s how it is. We can bury it again, we can put it away for the sake of the people we love. But I’m never going to be your son again. Not the way I was.”

“If that’s all I can have,” Sonny said, forcing the words out, “then that’s what I’ll have to accept. Thank you for coming to talk to me about this. It’s—these are things we needed to say.”

“Yeah, I guess they are.”  With that, Michael left and Sonny sat back down in the booth, staring blindly down at the surface of the table.

Davis House: Living Room

“Mom?” Sam set Scout’s car seat on the ground and then hung up her jacket. “Mom, are you around?”

Hearing nothing but silence, Sam wrinkled her nose and leaned down to unsnap her daughter from the seat then lifted her into her arms. “Let’s go find Grammy,” she told Scout and headed into the kitchen.

Finding no one, Sam started up the stairs and went down the hallway towards her mother’s bedroom, then heard sound coming from her sister’s bedroom.

Not just sound.

Her own voice.

“Have you and the District Attorney ever had intimate relations?”

“What?”

“Objection, Your Honor!”

Sam shoved the door open to find Kristina curled up in her desk chair, her phone in her hand, and voices floating out from a decade ago.

“And wasn’t the District Attorney married to your mother at the time?”

…Yes.”

“And then you go running back to Jason Morgan so he can continue to financially support you, correct?”

“She made me sound like a gold digger,” Sam said faintly. Kristina looked up, blinking at her. “I think that’s what hurt the most. The only way Diane knew what happened was Jason told her. He told her that to use against me—”

Kristina carefully clicked a button her phone and the voices slid away. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Mom about Thanksgiving,” Sam said, hoisting Scout higher in her arms. “Why are you watching it again? Wasn’t once enough?”

“They televised this,” Kristina said. She set her phone down, and twisted the chair until she was facing Sam. “Everyone knew. Mom got humiliated.”

“I know that.” Sam set Scout on the floor and handed her the bottle in her hand. “It was a lifetime ago, Krissy. You get to be mad and hurt because for you, it’s now. And I regret it—”

“I wanna know how it happened,” Kristina interrupted. Sam shook her head. “No, I deserve to know how you ended up in bed with Ric. He never treated me any differently than he did Molly. And back then, before I got closer to my dad, Ric was always there. He still calls and writes me just as much as he does Molly.”

“I—” Surprised, Sam sat on the edge of Kristina’s bed. “I didn’t know that.”

“No. Because it doesn’t matter to you, does it?” Her sister narrowed her eyes. “So tell me. I wanna know.”

“You don’t, Krissy. It doesn’t reflect well on anyone—but—” Sam rubbed the side of her face. “Mostly me—”

“If you tell me the truth, I’ll know you’re really sorry. You destroyed my life. You humiliated my mother—”

“Fine. Fine.” Sam made a face. “You know that I didn’t grow up with Mom. In fact, I only found out she was my mother about a year before that trial. I found out and kept it quiet because I really—I hated her for a lot of reasons that don’t really make sense to me now,” she admitted. “And when Mom found out who I was, it was because I’d been hurt. Jason told her. I never wanted her to know.”

Sam paused, but Kristina just lifted her brows. “And Mom’s first priority was making sure Jason broke up with me because I’d been shot by Manny Ruiz. I blamed her for that—”

“Why? She just wanted you to be safe. Jason’s the one that did the breaking—”

“I get that. Now. But at the time, it was—it was devastating. I didn’t understand how I’d built my entire life around him. When he sent me away, I didn’t have anything. And I blamed Mom.” Sam swallowed hard. “So I decided—God, I decided that I was going to make her hurt the way I did.”

Tears clung to Kristina’s lashes as she swallowed a sob. “You did it deliberately. It wasn’t—it wasn’t like you were drunk one night—”

“I did it deliberately,” Sam confirmed, almost inaudible. “I didn’t really know her. Or you and Molly. I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I just wanted revenge. And Mom—she knew she was sick. She was struggling with it and pushing Ric away. They were arguing more and more. And Ric—” This was the part that hurt the worst. “He was hurt because they’d worked hard to get to a place where they were a family, and Mom flipped overnight. I played on that, Krissy. If I hadn’t been there—”

“He wouldn’t have gone out to cheat on her. He did it with you because you were there and you were trying to hurt her.”

“Yes.” Sam rubbed her chest, closing her hand into a fist as she admitted what she’d never said out loud. “And I did it to hurt Jason. He’s always hated Ric for pretty damn good reasons. So, I thought— two birds, one stone.” She squeezed her eyes shut as tears burned down her cheeks. “When it was over, I played it off like it was a mistake and then got up going to over to tell Jason. But I lost my courage when I got there. I tried again the next day. I was ready to throw it in his face—I was going to throw it in Mom’s—”

“What changed your mind?”

“He already knew,” Sam said softly. “And what he didn’t tell me is that Mom knew, too. She’d seen us, and had a breathing attack. Jason was coming over to tell me he’d made a mistake and wanted me back. He took her to the hospital, and when he came back — I was—he saw us, too. They both saw us that night. But he didn’t tell me until months later that Mom knew.” She hesitated. “He also told me that he’d been with Elizabeth that night. And I realized, oh, God—” She dragged her hands through her hair. “I’d made a horrible mistake. If I hadn’t done it, Jason would have been with me. Not her. And because of all of that—”

Because of her burning need to make Alexis pay — Jason had reconnected with Elizabeth and created a child.

And nothing had ever been the same.

“I told you, Krissy. Everything about that night—about what I did leading up to it—it makes me a terrible person.” And the things she’d done afterward trying to keep Jason with her, only to have him slide out of her grasp—the desperation only growing—

Kristina took a deep breath. “Thank you. For being honest with me. I—” She paused. “I get that Mom has forgiven you. And I mostly get that it’s not just you. Ric did it, too. But it’s hard. Because it feels like this just happened. And I just—” She swiped at her eyes. “I feel like I’m a mess, you know? Like I keep doing everything wrong, and every time I get my feet under me, it falls apart. I just—I want to be better. And I look at you, and I thought—well, you used to be a mess, and now you’re better—”

“Krissy—”

“But it’s not that simple, is it?” she asked quietly. “You did what you did. And I get that you’re sorry about hurting Mom, and she forgave you. But you meant to destroy my family. And it’s just going—it’s going to take a minute, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that.” Sam got to her feet and picked up Scout. “I’ll give you your space on this, Krissy. I just—I love you. I didn’t understand what it meant to have a family, not really. My father always used me for his cons, and my mother never loved me. Danny—he loved me, and I loved him. But I had to take care of him. No one ever took care of me until Mom. No one ever really loved me until she did. You, Molly, and Mom. You’re the people that matter. I’d do anything to protect that.”

“Molly should know,” Kristina said. Sam shook her head. “No, she deserves to know why her father isn’t in her life. She knows he’s not a perfect person, but she deserves to know.”

“No, look, I wouldn’t even tell you—”

“If you’re really sorry,” Kristina retorted, “then you’ll tell her.”

“I’m not doing this, Krissy. I get that this happened to you. To you and Molly, but at the end of the day, I’m not ripping open my veins so that you can judge me. I’m not telling Molly. Please don’t—don’t do this to her.”

Kristina narrowed her eyes. “Sam—”

“You remember Ric being here more than she does. She was just a little girl when he left. She doesn’t have the memories the way you do. Please. I can’t—I can’t take another hit right now. With Drew and Jason, and you—” Sam tightened her arms around her daughter. “Please.”

“If I don’t tell her, it’ll be like lying to her. She’s my sister. She deserves the truth. So either you tell her or I do.”

Metro Court: Restaurant

Carly stepped off the elevator and spied a familiar face sitting at one of the tables. She perked up and hurried over. “Spinelli!” She sat down across from him and grinned at the little girl sharing his table. “And Georgie. Hey!”

“Hi.” Georgie flashed her a shy smile. “Daddy and I are having brunch.” She looked at her father. “When is Mommy getting done at the doctor?”

“Soon,” Spinelli said, forcing a smile. He handed her a sippy cup with orange juice before turning his attention to Carly. “What’s up? I haven’t seen you since I got back.”

“No, I’ve been busy with the holidays,” Carly said. “You know how busy it gets at the hotel.” And Jason hadn’t asked her for help. Hadn’t brought Spinelli by the house. He was probably holed up at that stupid safe house. She wrinkled her nose. “I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to talk to you about Jason.”

“Uh, I’m not really sure Stone Cold would appreciate that,” Spinelli began.

“I’m just worried about him. He’s been through so much,” Carly said, ignoring his discomfort. “I just want him to be okay, you know? I want him to get his life back—”

“He’s only been back a few weeks, Carly. It’ll take some time.”

“I know, I know. And I’m glad he’s spending so much time with Jake. I am,” she repeated because it was the truth. She might not like that Jake apparently came as a set with Elizabeth freaking Webber, but Sonny was right. Elizabeth was opening the door, and Jason deserved to have his son.  “But I’m sad he’s not getting to know Danny. Aren’t you?”

“I hadn’t—” Spinelli paused. “It’s not ideal,” he admitted. “But it’s not up to Stone Cold, you know?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like Jason has even gone to see Sam. He should. I was thinking you might help me with that,” Carly said. “You could get him to come to the park or the pier or something, and I could get her there—”

“I am not getting involved in any of that,” Spinelli said flatly. “I came back to Port Charles for two reasons. I wanted my daughter to be closer to her mother, and to help Jason find out who did this to him. He hates when I get involved in his personal life—”

“Spinelli—” Carly saw the set of his jaw and switched tactics. “I just want him to be happy. He was married to Sam—”

“He was, but it’s been five years.” Spinelli softened his voice. “I get you want to help, Valkyrie. I know how fierce you are when it comes to the people you love. But forcing Jason into a room with Sam is only going to make things more awkward—”

“She shouldn’t be allowed to keep his son from him,” Carly snapped. “Jason deserves to be with his kids.”

Spinelli rubbed the back of his neck. “This isn’t my fight, okay? Jason is aware of Danny, and he’s gonna have to figure that out.”

“Why doesn’t anyone even—” Carly cleared her throat. “Fine. Fine. No one wants to help me get Jason’s life back, I’ll just have to do it myself.”

She shoved away from the table and stalked away. Spinelli followed her with his eyes, wincing.

“Daddy, is she okay?” Georgie asked.

“Hard to tell, princess,” Spinelli said, troubled. “Let’s finish our food and head over to see Mommy, okay?”

“Okay.”

A few tables away, hidden behind the menu she’d jerked in front of her face, Nelle Benson’s lips curved into a smile. Sometimes information just fell into your lap.

Joe’s Bar: Parking Lot

Elizabeth pulled her car into an empty space, wrinkling her nose and turning her attention back to the voice coming out of her dash. “Spinelli, I think you’re overreacting.”

“Stone Cold was very quiet when he left,” the tech told her. “And then you said he didn’t come to dinner tonight.”

“I know, but—”

“He would never miss a chance to see Little Stone Cold. I just—” Spinelli paused. “He was okay, and then today he seems like he’s not.  I had a run-in with Valkyrie that just makes me worried. He usually tunes me out, but he talks to you.”

“I see his bike,” Elizabeth said, spying the familiar colors parked among a few others. “I’ll text you later.”

“Thanks.”

Elizabeth switched off her ignition and the call disconnected. She sent a text to Cameron to remind him to get Jake and Aiden in bed before midnight, then got out of the car.

Inside, the bar was exactly the atmosphere she’d once enjoyed at Jake’s. It was badly lit, terribly decorated, and the beer on tap was sub par. Its entire clientèle came from the docks and everyone minded their own damn business.

And she found exactly who she was looking for, in the corner of the bar by the pool table, a bottle of Rolling Rock in front of him and—her eyes widened—two empty shot glasses.

Jason almost never drank hard liquor.

She hitched her purse strap higher on her shoulder and wound her way through the tables towards him—but he’d seen her the minute she walked in.

“Hey.”

He stared at her, then scrubbed his hand over his face, some life coming into it—that horrible empty expression gone. “Hey,” he said.

“I’ll go if you want to be alone,” she offered, but was relieved when he shook his head. She set her purse on the table and took off her coat, tossing it over a chair. “Be right back.” She nodded at the shot glasses. “You wanna do a round?”

A ghost of a smile flitted across his lip. “Yeah, sure. Your choice.”

“Great.” She drew out her wallet and went to the bar. When he came back, she had her own beer and was followed by the bartender who set down a few slices of lime, a canister of salt, a bottle of tequila, and empty shot glasses. “Thanks,” she said to him, then dismissed the man.

Jason watched the bartender go back and leveled a glare when the man kept staring at Elizabeth. The guy blanched and hurried to occupy himself with the few customers at the bar.

“I think the last time I drank anything more than one margarita was when Patrick almost married Sabrina,” Elizabeth said as she poured the tequila. “I was going to be his best person, and I wanted him to know I could do the job just as well as a guy.” She made a face. “I did it, but I also don’t remember a lot of it.” She slid the tequila over to him along with a piece of lime and the salt. “Now, I’m sure it’s been a while—”

“Not that long,” he said. He picked up the salt, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and tapped the salt onto the back of her hand. “I taught you how to do this. A long time ago.”

“I know. And then I taught Robin and Emily and Kelly, and they were really impressed because they think I just knew.” Her eyes danced with a wicked gleam. “Lick it, slam it, suck it. Ready?”

“Sure.” He licked the salt, tossed back the tequila, wincing at the burn, then reached for the lime wedge.

“I used to be a lot younger,” Elizabeth muttered, wiggling her shoulders. “Yikes.” She set the shot glass aside and sipped her beer. “I told you, Joe’s is almost as good as Jake’s.”

“Yeah, it’s quiet and no one is bothering me.” He lifted his brows. “Well, until you showed up.” She snorted, and he picked up his own beer. “Spinelli call you?”

“He did. I thought he was overreacting, but the kid knows you.” Elizabeth put her chin on her palm, her elbow resting on the table. “You also haven’t missed a single dinner invitation since you came home. Not that you don’t get to do what you want, but—” She focused on him, her eyes soft. “What can I do?”

“This. What you’re doing.” Jason paused. “I don’t even—” He leaned forward, trying to put his thoughts in order. “I don’t even know what it was,” he admitted. “We were talking, and then his kid—his daughter came over. Spinelli’s a dad. He’s a good one, too. She’s, um—” He hesitated. “Everything just kept moving. Everyone. And I wasn’t here.”

He took a long pull from the bottle, then rolled it in his hands. “I’ve been thinking about Jake. About you seeing on Spoon Island and me not doing enough—”

“Jason—”

“And you’re right. I know you’re right. We had no reason to think it wasn’t a hallucination, but just the idea that he was right there all that time, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t save him. And Michael—he’s going through this crap with Sonny and Carly, and I can’t be sure I wouldn’t have made it worse—” He paused. “I’m just—I’m not having a good day.”

“It makes sense. You’ve been putting one foot in front of the other, keeping your head looking forward. But you took a minute to breath, and it hit you all over again.” Elizabeth paused. “You came home to people who already thought they had you back. I know it must have been hard to—” She pressed her lips together. “It must have been hard to come home and find out Sam had married someone else. And I know it’s hurting that she’s not—she’s not—I mean—” She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you’d rather she be here right now.”

Jason squinted at her, then slowly shook his head. “No. I don’t. I—” He paused. “Yeah, when I woke up in the clinic, I tried to call her. I went to the penthouse because that was home. But she made a choice that night, and she’s made that choice every day since. She gets to do that. I wouldn’t want her sitting here feeling obligated because of what happened to me.”

“I guess I can understand that.”

“I’m sorry you had to leave the boys to come—you didn’t have to.” Jason straightened, glanced down at his phone. “It’s late—”

“I’m not working tomorrow,” Elizabeth told him. “And yeah, I did. I want to be here for you, Jason. I’m glad I can be. How many times did I run to you when I was in trouble? When I was hurt, or struggling—and it’s not like I’m keeping track or paying off a balance,” she added when he opened his mouth. “It’s just—” She leaned back. “This is how it started. You and me. Sitting in a bar. You let me talk, and it wasn’t just because I was Emily’s friend or because you were nice. I refuse to believe that. No one is that nice.”

He made a face. “I’m not nice,” he muttered.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t wanna ruin your reputation,” she teased. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But you were kind that night, Jason. And all the times afterward. I was able to see a future for myself because of you. It was a long time before I had to remember what nothing felt like again.”

“Me either,” Jason said with another hesitant smile. “That winter—I thought I did, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“Exactly.” She tipped her beer against his. “This is what we do, Jason. We take care of each other. We don’t keep score. We don’t worry about obligation. That’s not us. I’m right where I want be because if the tables were turned—I know you’d be doing the same for me.”

“I didn’t always take care of you,” he forced out, and she sighed. “With Jake—”

“And I didn’t always take care of you,” she reminded him. “But I’m not keeping score on that either. This isn’t a ledger, Jason. There’s no black or red. There’s just us.” When he smiled again, it was more genuine and she relaxed. “Now, we can either start a bar fight, which I’m not opposed to, or we can keep drinking and we’ll call an Uber to drive us home.” She lifted the tequila. “You wanna do another round?”

“Yeah.” Jason shoved the shot glass towards her. “Let’s do another.”

This entry is part 21 of 38 in the Fool Me Twice: Ricochet

You’re not alone
Together we stand
I’ll be by your side
You know I’ll take your hand
When it gets cold
And it feels like the end
There’s no place to go
You know I won’t give in
No, I won’t give in
Keep Holding On, Avril Lavigne


December 2011

Shadybrooke: Elizabeth’s Room

“This is disturbing. I mean, this is—it’s extreme, don’t you think, all this maneuvering to get a guy who doesn’t even deserve you to fall back in love with you?”

Elizabeth let Matt’s words roll around in her head as she slowly rolled down the window shade on her door, blocking out the sight of the strange man across the hall who had made her tea and seemed…so familiar.  He’d been painting the water and had ocean sounds playing—

It had brought her back to the night she’d nearly drowned and the strange, lucid hallucinations of seeing her son. Of holding Jake—

Of having him being dragged out of her arms—

Sometimes, if Elizabeth closed her eyes, she could put herself back in that moment. It was fuzzy around the edges, and she didn’t know where she was or who had held her back from her son—who had taken him away—

But she could still hear his voice. Feel him in her arms.

Elizabeth dragged her hands through her hair, turning away from the door. Forcing herself to push the image away. Jake was dead. He was dead. And every time she hallucinated him, she lost another piece of herself.

Matt was right, of course. She kept clinging to Lucky, hoping he’d love her again. Hoping he’d love Cameron and Aiden the way he’d loved Jake in the beginning. Even when Aiden had fallen ill a few weeks ago, Lucky had barely shown up. And when he had, he’d looked at her like he was doing her a damn favor.

Why was she trying so hard—

“Does painting speak to your soul?”

She turned back to the door, the strange man’s voice so vivid in her memory that she thought he was there. That he’d asked her the question again.

“It used to.”

Nothing spoke to her soul anymore. She kept going through the motions, putting one foot in front of the other. Every day, she woke up and walked past Jake’s empty room and looked at the faces of her remaining children, knowing she was failing them. Knowing she was a terrible mother, that all of this was her fault—

“You let hours and years and days box you in.”

Of course she did. Hours and years and days were all she had. She had to focus on the next minute, the next second—every moment she was awake, she had to remember how to breathe again. Did he think she wanted to be like this? She’d give anything to turn back the clock. To go back to living in the moment—

“Why is everyone so quick to jump to the conclusion that I’m trying to manipulate Lucky?”

“Because you usually are.”

“It’s not true,” she murmured. She should have said that to Matt when he’d made the accusation, but it was so easy just to sit back and take it. To let people scream at her, say what they wanted to. Let everyone blame her for Siobhan’s death, even though it was the last thing Elizabeth had ever wanted. She had only been trying to help Lucky who had been dumb enough to go under cover as a drug dealer and it had—

“I’m guessing you like honey in your tea, but you’re resigned to going without because you don’t want to bother anyone.”

On a shaky sigh, Elizabeth sat on the bed and wrapped the edges of her sweater more tightly around her torso. Why had he said that about her? He didn’t even know her.

Elizabeth was in this room, in this hospital, because she wanted to bother people. Wasn’t that what Lucky thought, what Matt believed? Hadn’t her father always accused her of looking out for herself, not caring what anyone thought? Of needing everyone’s eyes on her?

“You just want to be noticed, Lizzie,” Jeff Webber had told her after the third time she’d been brought home for breaking curfew. “Maybe give me a reason to pay attention. Why can’t you be more like your sister?”

So why had it felt so right when that man had said that to her? When he’d accused her of not wanting to bother anyone?

Troubled, Elizabeth laid down on the bed, turned on her side and tried to drift into sleep.

___

Across the hall, Ewen Keenan set down his brush and looked through his open door at the closed one across the way.

Helena Cassadine and her myriad of connections in high places had allowed Ewan to be assigned a room nearby Elizabeth Webber. He had worried she would recognize him—especially there at the end, when she’d brought up the drowning.

Did he want her know to him? Did he want her to remember that night on Spoon Island when he’d saved her life and brought her to the lab where she’d seen her son?

“How many children do you have?”

“Two. I have two.”

“Why does that make you sad?”

“I had three. But I had, um, a little boy who passed away. I really should–I should go.”

Ewen closed his door and pulled down his own shade. It had been easier than he thought, drawing the woman into conversation. She was beautiful—hauntingly so with those melancholy eyes and the quiet desperation that seemed to envelop her. He wanted to help her. To save her.

Maybe he could find a way to tell her about Jake, even though the boy was already on his way to Greece and to another lab that Ewen didn’t know anything about. He wished he hadn’t sold his soul to the Cassadines and anyone who worked with them, but he didn’t have a choice.

It was his life or hers, and at the end of the day—Ewen would always pick himself.

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Penthouse: Living Room

“Mom, I don’t know what your problem is,” Sam complained as she tossed a manila envelope over to Drew sitting on the sofa with his cup of coffee. “The messenger brought the divorce papers for you,” she told him absently.

He frowned. “Just for me?”

“No, ours are here, too. But—” Sam turned her attention back to the phone. “I thought you got everything you needed over the weekend—” She wrinkled her nose. “All right, all right. Fine. I’ll drop Danny at school and come by.”  She clicked her phone off and tossed it on the desk. “She has an issue with a clause in mine, so—” She shrugged. “You should get Kim to sign those today.”

Drew got to his feet and walked over to her, pulling the papers out as he did so. “It feels a little strange,” he admitted. “Divorcing someone I don’t even remember.”

“Wouldn’t that make it easier?” Sam asked as she tipped a second set of papers out of the envelope, scanning them with a furrowed brow. “And how does this work? Our marriage certificate is for Jason Morgan, but I’m divorcing Andrew Cain? Like—I know Mom said she’d worked with someone to get it done, but it still feels wrong.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Drew scribbled his initials and signature on the pages where Alexis had notated them. “But it’s necessary. To get it done right so we can move forward.”

“Yeah, Mom is gonna file everything as soon as we get them signed, so you need to get yours to Kim ASAP,” she told him. “I’ll get Jason served—”

“You never said what you’d ended up saying in your papers,” Drew said, squinting. “Or did you decide to do what you and I are doing? All assets to be decided in a separate filing?” He smiled sardonically. “Not that I have any assets.”

“Well, you don’t know that. Curtis said that your estate was pretty well set up. I mean, it all went to Oscar’s trust fund, but you could just dissolve—” She stopped when Drew stared at her. “What?”

“I’m not going to raid my son’s trust fund for pocket change,” he said. “There’s no point. I left it to him. I talked to Monica a few days ago. She’d offered to have Ned and Michael fast-track the ELQ shares ince I’m technically due an inheritance from Edward’s estate. I’ll have the dividends from it by the end of the year. It’s not what I want to do, but I think it’s probably the best option.”

“Oh.” Surprised, Sam shifted. “Well, then good, you don’t have to take the trust fund. But at least you knew it was there.” She didn’t like the way he was looking at her—like there was something so wrong about suggesting that he would siphon money out of the trust fund. It wasn’t like Drew was actually dead — that money was just sitting there and it was his.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Drew said just as she turned away, intending to get another cup of coffee from the kitchen.

Sam turned back. “Oh. Well, I didn’t do anything insane like ask for half of everything.” She folded her arms. “But, you know, I wanted this penthouse. It’s the only home Danny or Scout has ever known, and Jason doesn’t care about things like that.”

Drew stared at her for a long moment. “And what about Danny?”

They stared at each other for a long time, then she carefully swallowed. “I think we have to remember something,” she said finally. “That you might remember being Jason Morgan, and that we both thought you were for a long time. But you’re not him. Which means my marriage to him—and ending it—is something I don’t have to talk to you about. It’s my divorce, and Danny is my son. I should be able to do what I think is best for him.”

Drew didn’t even flinch when she’d laid down that gauntlet, but there was a change in the muscles of his cheek that put her on high alert. “Danny is your son,” he agreed. “But if you’re planning to ask Jason to terminate his parental rights so I can raise Danny, don’t you think you should make sure that’s something I’m comfortable with?”

Her throat tightened. “What? Why wouldn’t—you love Danny!”

“I do love him. Just like I love Jake. And part of me won’t ever be able to turn that off,” Drew admitted. “And I know Jason feels that way about Michael because I remember feeling that way. I don’t have to lose either of them. They’re still my nephews—”

“And if you remember Michael,” Sam said, biting out the words, “then you remember that Jason made sure Carly’s wishes were what mattered. That Michael stayed with Carly and Sonny. I want Danny to be with you. Elizabeth can do whatever the hell she wants—”

“But Danny and Jake know they’re brothers,” Drew explained, patiently. “Danny knows his name is Danny Morgan. He thinks my name is Jason Morgan. And if you do this—if you ask Jason to give Danny up, either he’ll fight you—”

“He won’t—”

“Or you’ll both have to explain to Danny one day why you decided that Jason wasn’t good enough to be his father. And I’ll have to explain to Danny why I did this to my brother. Which isn’t that different from the crap Sonny and Carly have been putting Michael through for years.”

“This is very different—”

“You’re asking Jason to give up his rights to Danny just the way AJ did all those years ago. And one day, Danny is going to ask you why.”

They heard the door opening above them and soft footsteps indicating that Danny had woken up and was heading downstairs.

“I just want you to be able to answer that question,” Drew told Sam. “Without watching Danny go through what Michael did.”

Quartermaine Mansion: Family Room

“Thank you for coming,” Monica said as she gestured for Jason to come in and sit on the sofa. “I was worried you were angry with me.” When Jason looked at her, mystified, she continued, “About last week at the Metro Court—”

“No. I should have called—” Jason made a face as his mother sat in the armchair where he could remember Lila’s wheelchair sitting so often. “Things are happening and I’m just—I’m just trying to keep up. I—” He paused. “I didn’t know what to say to you. After talking to Michael—”

“He told me that he’d been a bit…” Monica hesitated. “Harder on you that he wanted to be. He’s still so angry at Sonny and Carly, and he spends a lot of time hiding it. He did it for his brother, for his sisters because the anger was really ripping them all apart—” She leaned back. “He’s working through it, and I think sometimes he really has forgiven them.”

“But it doesn’t change what happened,” Jason said. “Or that it started with me. With the lie I told when Michael was born.”

Monica sighed, looked down at her hands. “That was a very long time ago, and I remind myself that none of us did well by each other then. It would be easy to blame you, to blame Sonny and Carly—and believe me, I do. But I also know that AJ made a lot of mistakes and hurt a lot of people.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said. “For the lie. And I’m sorry I never—” His mouth tightened. “The problems that came later—with what happened to Courtney, and kidnapping Michael, making Carly believe he was dead, helping Faith—that came later. After what I did. And I didn’t really get it until I went through it.”

“With Jake,” Monica said with a nod.

“Elizabeth…had reasons for keeping the truth from me, and for wanting Lucky to raise Jake. And some of them were about my job. But it didn’t change how much it hurt. How much I wanted him. I know I did the same to AJ.”

Monica reached over to squeeze Jason’s hands. “But look at how Michael turned out. Without that year with you, without you staying in his life—where would Michael have ended up? He’s here. He’s a Quartermaine, the way your father and grandfather wanted all those years ago. But he’s stronger than AJ ever was, and he’s a better man. I don’t—as much as I loved my son—I can admit that I don’t know if I’d have Michael the way he is if things had been different.” She smiled. “I have my grandson in my life which is all I ever wanted, Jason.”

“I’m glad Michael came back to you,” Jason told her. “Other than Emily and Grandmother, you were the first Quartermaine I could stand.”

Monica laughed, then patted his hand. “Tell me about your son,” she pressed. “Michael told me you’d been spending a lot of time with Jake. I’m so glad.”

“It’s been amazing,” Jason admitted. “I always loved him, and he was a really great kid. But I didn’t know him other than what kind of toys he liked. I didn’t know him the way I knew Michael or Morgan.” He shook his head slightly as if casting off the guilt.

“I think my favorite thing to do is just to watch Jake with his brothers,” Monica told him. “Just the way they work together and talk to one another. You and AJ did that sometimes before the accident. You’d get in the room and start bantering. You’d tease me or Alan about something silly we’d said. The two of you were a team.”

“I didn’t—” Jason hesitated. “I didn’t know that.” He paused. “I guess it makes sense that I got into a car to stop him if we were close.”

“It broke your heart to see him fall apart under all that pressure. You just wanted the best for him, Jason. We all did. He didn’t know how to live with those expectations. Your father and I—your grandfather—we just demanded all the best things without trying to put in the work. You thrived, and AJ fell apart. I should have been a better mother.” Her smile was sad. “But I’m getting the chance to be a better grandmother, and that’s making up for a lot.”

“Jake said you’re a great grandmother,” Jason told her. “And that his favorite part is that you don’t play favorites. You gave Cameron and Aiden birthday presents this year, I guess?”

“Your son made it very clear to me that he had two brothers,” Monica told him with a lift of her brow. “And that he didn’t give a crap about all that half crap, not like the Spencers. I could be Grandma Monica to all of them or none of them.”

“Like the Spencers?” Jason echoed with a frown. “Lucky—he raised Cameron and Jake—I thought Sonny said Lucky was the one who found Jake and brought him home—”

“And then left town. Michael told me that if Lucky contacts home, he only calls Aiden. Laura does her best, and I’ve tried, too, but Cameron feels it. More than Jake. Because—” Monica sighed. “Drew was going to adopt Cameron back when he was still Jake Doe and marrying Elizabeth. When that fell apart—well, Cameron got left out in the cold.”

“I didn’t—”

“Drew has been very present for Jake, but not so much for Cameron. He’s old enough now that it’s not something Laura and I can just make go away.”

Jason exhaled slowly, thinking of what Cameron had been dealing with since that night with Franco. How worried Elizabeth was about him because he refused to talk to her about it—

“Jason?” Monica prompted, drawing his attention. “Are you all right?”

“I was just—never mind. Jake told me I should ask you about Olivia?” Jason asked.

“Oh.” Monica rolled her eyes. “She’s married to Ned now.” And then she started telling him about a holiday tradition and a redecoration Olivia had attempted without Monica’s permission.

General Hospital: Conference Room

“Hey, Scott.” Elizabeth sat down across from him at the table. “Thanks for coming by—I’m sorry it’s at the hospital, but—”

“No, no—” Scott waved away her concerns, dropping his briefcase on the table. “You said you wanted to update your will which is a good idea because I don’t think I’d taken care of this for you since—” He squinted at the date on the paperwork. “Since you fell down the stairs last year and realized that Jake wasn’t included.”

“Well, it’s not like I have a whole lot to worry about, asset wise,” she admitted as Scott drew out a pencil. “But—well, things have changed. With Gram and—” She hesitated. “You’re  really not going to ask me about Franco?”

“I was going to try to bring that up casually,” he admitted. “But now that you mention it, my, ah, son was at my place for a few days before heading to the Metro Court—where Carly took a lot of pleasure in refusing him a room, so I think he’s at the studio.” Scott peered at her. “If you were interested in his location.”

“I’m not. I—” Elizabeth sighed. “You were a single father when Serena was younger, right?”

“Most of her life, yeah. I didn’t think about getting married again until she was—” Scott shook his head. “Almost a teenager. It was hard to bring someone into her life, but I was fortunate. She liked Eve—and Lucy. And Laura.” He furrowed his brow. “Wasn’t much of a fan of Bobbie, I’ll admit, but she can be an acquired taste—” Scott cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. That’s not your point.”

“No. I know how much you love Serena,” Elizabeth continued, “so I know you can understand this when I tell you that my boys come first. I haven’t always done a great job of making choices that would make their lives better, and sometimes I’ve been selfish. But I always try to put them first. I love my boys.”

“And Franco doesn’t get along with Cameron,” Scott said, leaning back. “I mean, I could tell that would be a problem. Being the oldest—”

“Franco pushed Cameron,” Elziabeth said bluntly, and Scott sat straight up, his nostrils flaring.

“He what?”

“The night this all started—when Jason attacked Franco, Franco came back from the PCPD to Cameron and the boys watching the video on repeat. Laughing.” Elizabeth sighed. “Franco tried to take the tablet, and Cameron wouldn’t let him, so—Franco shoved him and grabbed him by the shirt.”

“He…” Scott scrubbed his hand over his mouth. “He put his hands on your kid? Well, that’s the deal breaker, isn’t it? If anyone tried to hurt my girl, they were out of there.” He scowled. “I know Cam’s almost sixteen and he’s tall for his age, but that doesn’t give anyone any right—”

Relieved that Scott agreed with her. Elizabeth nodded. “And things with Franco weren’t even going that great to begin with,” she added, “so it was just—it made the decision easy. And I was hoping you might talk to Franco about the hospital—about maybe not going out of his way to harass or annoy me. You know that Laura and Monica are just looking for a reason to fire him. If I file a complaint—”

“Say no more, I’ll talk to him.” Scott sighed. “It’s a shame. With Serena living so far away, I liked you and your boys. I was hoping maybe—well—I don’t know, maybe I’d get to play grandpa one day.”

“You’re welcome to see the boys,” Elizabeth said. “They like you, Scott. And so do I.”

“Well, we’ll see.” Scott smiled faintly. “Let’s get this will straightened out. Before, you’d left custody of all three boys to Audrey so they’d stay together—” He skimmed the paperwork. “I think you told me that you weren’t comfortable with Jason and Sam having custody of Jake.”

“No,” Elizabeth admitted with a grimace. “But that’s changed. Without my grandmother in the picture, I—I’m going to ask Jason to take over guardianship if it becomes necessary. He’s Jake’s father, and I don’t think Laura would mind since she knows how important it is for the boys to be together. Aiden and Cam like him—they know him.”

“And I guess we’re still not counting on Lucky taking an active role,” Scott muttered. “Like father, like son.”  He made some notes. “That should be pretty easy to sort out. You still want Laura and Monica as backup guardians?”

“Yeah, but only as a last resort,” Elizabeth reminded Scott. “I need Cameron to have his brothers.”

“And you’re sure Morgan would be up for it? He just came home—”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth nodded. “I’m going to check with him tonight, but I know he’ll agree with me. The boys stay together.”

Nero House: Front Porch

Oscar’s face was filled with trepidation as he pulled open the door and found his father standing in front of him. “Hey. Hi. Um, hello,” he muttered, then looked down. “I thought you were going to wait for me to call you.”

“I am,” Drew assured him. “But I wanted to see your—” he paused. “Kim. I need to talk to her.”

“Oh.” Oscar frowned, turned around, then hollered towards the back of the house. “Kim! Hey, Kim! Uh, Drew is here to talk to you!”

Kim emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on the dish towel. “I think they heard you in Buffalo,” she said dryly as she approached them. She smiled nervously. “Drew. Uh. Come in.”

“Thanks.”

Oscar left the door open partially. “Is it still okay if I go over to Cam’s? He’s gonna help me with geometry.”

“Yeah, sure. Just call me when you get there, and let me know if you need a ride home. I don’t want you walking home after dark.”

Kim and Drew watched as Oscar pulled on a coat, grabbed his book bag, and closed the door behind him. “He’s really close to Cam, huh?” Drew asked.

“Yeah. It was a relief, honestly.” Kim tipped her head. “Come into the kitchen. I’m just doing the dishes from breakfast that I ignored all day.”

Drew started to follow her, then stopped as he passed a shelf on the wall filled with picture frames. Including one with his old face standing next to Kim on what had probably been their wedding day. And another of Drew in with a younger Oscar in matching tuxedos. Drew’s arm was slung around his son’s shoulders and they were both grinning.

“I love that picture of you two,” Kim murmured. “I felt like the luckiest woman in the world when I got the chance to be part of that family.”

“I guess I was the lucky one,” Drew murmured as he picked it up, studied it. The love the man in this picture felt for the boy he was holding was so clear that it nearly choked him. “Because Oscar hasn’t been alone.”

“Do you want that?” Kim asked. “Or a copy of it? I can give you—”

“Not—not yet.” Drew took a deep breath, set it back down, then followed her into the kitchen. He drew out the manila envelope and set it on the kitchen counter. She stared at it. “The divorce papers,” he said awkwardly. “I mean—”

“Right. Right.” Kim set the towel down and took the envelope, sliding the papers out to look at them. “Andrew Cain petitioning for dissolution of marriage from Kimberly Nero,” she murmured. Something skittered over her face—something that looked like pain.

“I’m sorry,” Drew said. “Maybe I should have had someone else—”

“No, this is—” Kim looked at him, her eyes shining, before she looked back down. “This is fine. I appreciate it. I know you’re doing the best you can with this. We’re all just—it’s—” Kim went to sit at the table in the nook of the kitchen, still staring at the page. “No fault divorce,” she continued. “Um…is there anything about custody—”

“I would never take Oscar from you,” Drew told her as he sat across from her. “You’ve done a great job with him. He’s a good kid, and the last five years are because of you—in fact, the last six and a half, right? Because I was in Afghanistan—”

Kim swiped at her face, then nodded. “Yeah, um. Eighteen months. You were going to be home soon. We thought so, anyway. And we’d talked about having more kids—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Um, Oscar. He’s—he’s yours. And you should have your son. I just—I’ve been terrified since the minute I found out about you—that you’d come and take him away—you don’t know me—and you’re divorcing me—”

“I told you—” Drew leaned forward, covered her shaking hands with his, lacing their fingers together. Their eyes melt, held. “I am not taking Oscar from you. I want to know him. I want to do whatever I can to give him back his father because we both deserve that. And I want Oscar to know my family. But you are his mother, too, Kim. He obviously loves you.”

“Thank you.” Kim’s breath was shaky. “Thank you,”  she repeated. “For being so kind about it. I know you’re going through something similar with your—with Danny and Jake. And I hope Jason and your wife are being as kind as you are.”

“Well,” Drew shifted, uncomfortably. “We’re managing.” He nodded at the paperwork. “That is just basics. I didn’t ask for anything, and custody of Oscar stays with you until we decide to revisit it. As soon as my financial situation is dealt with, we’ll talk about support—”

“That’s not necessary—”

“It is,” Drew told her firmly. “Not just the right thing to do, but it’s also for Oscar—he’s entitled to it. I want to give it to him. Put it away for college or a car, or whatever. But he’s my son. I want him—and the world to know it.”

Davis House: Kitchen

“Didn’t you used to have an office?” Sam muttered but followed her mother. “Why did I have to come all the way over here? Give me my divorce papers—” She narrowed her eyes as Alexis reached for a canister of sugar. “Did you even finish them?”

“I did.”

Alexis opened her brief case, removed a stack of paper, and set them in front of her. “I wrote up three copies,” she told her daughter as Sam sat down. “This one—” She slid it across the table to Sam, “is what you asked for. The purchase price of Aurora, a year of operating costs, a trust fund for Danny, the title to the penthouse, and the request to terminate parental rights—”

“Great—”

“This one—” Alexis said, setting another sheaf on top of the first. “Deletes the custody request, suggesting that will be settled out of court by the parents.” Sam stared at it for a long moment, then looked at her mother. “And this last one—”

“What? Makes me pay Jason?” Sam muttered.

“No. This is an updated version of the divorce papers that you signed and filed in 2012. The divorce that was very nearly finalized five years ago.” Alexis sat down as Sam said nothing. “You’ve been here before, Sam. And I think we both know that what you’re doing isn’t going to bring anyone any relief.”

“Mom—”

“If you can tell me that you want Jason out of Danny’s life because of the danger, we can have that conversation. But Jason has been out of things for five years. With Jake back in his life, he might not be going back to work for Sonny. Have you discussed it with him?”

“No.” Sam closed her eyes. “No. I haven’t spoken to him since I ran into him outside on Halloween. That was the only time.” She looked away. “It’s not the danger. I knew who I was marrying every time I said yes when he asked. He was always the one that made that choice for me, Mom. You know that.”

“Then what is it? I can understand you wanting to stay with Drew.  You’ve been through a lot with him these last two years, and there’s Scout. You’ve built a relationship.” Alexis tipped her head. “But Jason doesn’t deserve to be cut out of Danny’s life without you even discussing it with him, does he?”

“Maybe he does,” Sam murmured. She focused on her mother. “Do you remember why you drew up these papers—” She tapped the bare-bones divorce agreement. “Why I was walking away from Jason?”

“Because of Danny.”

“Because of Danny. Jason couldn’t handle what Franco did to me. He wanted me to get an abortion—”

“Sam—”

“And I knew—I knew he couldn’t love my son the way he needed to.” Sam’s eyes burned. “Even when he told me he could—and I ended up at that motel—and I thought my baby was dead. I blamed him for it.”

“But Danny didn’t die—”

“No, I got a miracle, and Jason brought Danny back to me. But I think—” Sam exhaled slowly. “I think maybe I pushed it all away. The hurt I felt, the shame I felt for wanting to have my rapist’s child. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t true, that Danny is Jason’s son.” She sat back. “Drew agrees with you. He thinks one day Danny is going to want to know why I cut Jason out.”

“And how are you going to answer that?” Alexis asked.

“I don’t know. I just—I know that Danny has everything he needs right now. That Drew loves him. Danny loves him. He loves Scout and he loves me. And our family is perfect just the way it is. There’s nothing Jason can add to Danny’s life that he isn’t already getting from Drew. I don’t see why I need to upset Danny to tell him he’s got another father when he doesn’t need Jason.” Sam shrugged. “It’s as simple as that for me. I’m his mother. Don’t I get to make that choice?”

“I think,” Alexis said, carefully, “you are very fortunate that Jason is unlikely to fight you on the custody agreement—”

“Exactly.” Sam nodded. “He didn’t fight for Jake, either. Jason’s fine when he’s around, but he doesn’t really show up—”

“He fought once,” Alexis said softly. “After raising Michael for a year because Carly asked him to, when AJ took him away, Jason went to court to get visitation and he won it.” Sam frowned at her, so Alexis continued, “Jason could have had court-ordered visitation with Michael, but he ended it after a few visits. Because he could see that Michael had a chance with AJ and Carly, and he didn’t want to confuse the little boy. He loved him enough to let him go. He will never drag a child through a custody case.”

“Since when did you turn into Jason’s biggest fan?” Sam demanded.

I’m the lawyer who won those visitation rights,” Alexis told her. “Jason will always put the child first. Even if it hurts him. He thought Jake was better off with Elizabeth and Lucky. And he’d likely agree with you that Danny will be fine with you and Drew. Because the alternative is that he takes you to court, and Danny’s old enough to be asked in a court of law where he wants to live.”

Sam’s eyes burned. “He’d say me—he’d tell the judge me and Drew—he’d want us—”

“Maybe,” Alexis allowed. “But a judge might look at this situation and wonder why you’re doing this. Why you’re really doing this. I don’t doubt you have some unresolved issues from five years ago. But Jason just came home after being held prisoner for five years, most of which, I’m told, he spent in a drugged coma, unable to move. He lost five years of an already shortened life since the accident.”

“What’s going on?”

They both looked up to find Kristina in the doorway of the kitchen, her brows raised. “Why do you guys look so serious?”

“It’s nothing,” Alexis said briskly, shoving the papers into a folder. “We’re going over your sister’s divorce papers.”

“Divorce papers?” Kristina asked. “From Drew?”

“And from Jason,” Sam said with a sigh. “Our divorce wasn’t finalized before he went off the pier. It’s just a legal mess—and Drew was married to someone else. We’re just clearing the decks.”

“Okay,” Kristina said, drawing out the words. She looked back and forth between her mother and sister. “What are you doing about Danny?”

Sam shook her head. “I don’t want to get into this with you again, and besides, it’s really not any of your business—”

“Since when does that stop me?”

“Kristina,” Alexis said, her tone tinged with exhaustion. “Don’t start—”

“I’m not starting. I’m just asking my sister what she’s planning to do with custody of my nephew. The last time we talked about any of this, she was still pretending Drew was Jason.” Kristina met Sam’s eyes. “But you’re good at that, aren’t you?”

Sam frowned, not understanding the hostility that framed her sister’s words. “Good at—”

“Pretending. You used to be a con artist, didn’t you? Walking around, ruining people’s families?”

“Kristina—”

“That—” Sam took a deep breath. “That was a long time ago—”

“Not as long as you think. Hey, Mom—” Kristina jerked her eyes away from Sam to glare at Alexis. “Why did you divorce Ric again?”

A chill slithered down Sam’s spine. “Krissy—”

“Because I bet it had something to do with her sleeping with him.” Kristina shrugged. “Just one more family for her to destroy—”

“Kristina—” Alexis put up a hand. “Where—how—”

“She testified about it in open court on the news,” Kristina said scathingly. She glared at Sam again. “Someone sent me a clip.”

“That was a long time ago,” Sam repeated.

“Not long enough.” Kristina tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes burning into Sam’s. “What kind of person are you? How can you stand there and take Jason’s son away from him after what you’ve done?”

“I’m not—” Sam’s voice faltered. “That’s not what—it’s not the same, Krissy—”

“You took Molly’s father away from her. And from me. What did you do to make him forget us? To make him hurt Mom and us like that?”

“I didn’t—” Sam’s entire body felt numb. “I didn’t do—”

“Really? He just woke up that day and decided to have an affair with his stepdaughter?” Kristina retorted.

“Kristina,” Alexis said sharply. “Stop this. You’ve been around long enough to know that Ric Lansing doesn’t have much of a moral compass—”

“No, I guess he and Sam were perfect for each other.” Kristina huffed. “Jason was in a coma for five years, Sam. He spent half the time you were together rescuing you from whatever dumb thing you were doing that week. Maybe he wasn’t always the best guy in the world, but what the hell is your damage that you can do this after everything he’s been through? You’re barely even letting the ink dry on those DNA results and you’re demanding he cut himself out of Danny’s life? That’s why Mom’s been pissy with you, why she made you come over here, isn’t it?”

“Krissy, just let me explain—”

“No. Because that’s how you convince all your marks that you’re telling the truth. There’s nothing to explain. You destroyed my family, and now you’re trying to hurt Jason because you’re selfish. Nothing new there.”

Kristina shoved her way out of the kitchen as Sam and Alexis just stared after her in silence.

“Sam,” Alexis said finally. “She’ll come around—”

Sam exhaled. “But she’s not wrong,” she murmured. “He just came home. This is a lot to ask of him right now. I think—I need more time. Drew—we’ll file his divorce from Kim and the one from each other, but let’s just—” She pushed the papers towards her mother. “Let me just think this over a little more, I guess.”

“That’s all I wanted.” Alexis paused. “I don’t blame you for Ric, Sam.”

Sam’s smile was devoid of humor as she met her mother’s eyes. “You’ve had longer to let it go. I remember how much Kristina loved him.” It was why she’d gone after Ric. She’d wanted to hurt Alexis. She’d wanted to twist the knife and destroy their family. How could she blame Kristina for just seeing the truth of who Sam really was?

Webber Home: Living Room

“In ten minutes, I’m turning off the wifi on every single device you own!” Elizabeth called up the stairs. “Yes, even you, Cameron!”

There was a chorus of groans and protests even as Elizabeth smirked, stepping down from the stairs towards the sofa. “They always think I’ll forget,” she said as she sat down next to Jason. “Thank God I didn’t have social media in high school. I probably would have thrown myself out the window.”

“I stopped listening to Spinelli with all of that a long time ago,” Jason admitted. “Every time he talked, he’d say something else I’d never heard before, and I just—” He shook his head. “I couldn’t keep up.”

“I keep trying, but there’s always something new. First, I figured out MySpace, then Facebook, and just when I figured out what the hell Twitter did, there was SnapChat and Vine—” Elizabeth picked up her phone. “I gave up. Anyway, I found out today that I was able to get Thanksgiving off. We used to go to my grandmother’s—” She hesitated as the loss cut sharply again. “But she’s…gone. And Laura’s going to London to see Lucky. She’s taking Lulu and her kids—thank God.”

“No Charlotte then,” Jason said. “Aiden said something earlier.”

“Yeah, he thinks Christmas came early. Anyway, I asked Monica what she was doing, and she invited us to the mansion.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “She said she was going to ask you, but I figured you were going to Sonny and Carly’s—”

“Monica did ask, and I told her I’d come. I have to go to Sonny’s because Carly will storm the mansion if I don’t,” Jason said with a wince, and Elizabeth smirked. “But yeah, I, uh, don’t think I’ve been to the Quartermaines for Thanksgiving…ever. So it should be interesting.”

“I’m looking forward to finding out how we’re going to end up eating pizza, to be honest.” Elizabeth leaned forward to grab a folder off the table. “There’s something I wanted to run by you. I talked to Scott today about updating my will—”

“Your will—” Jason blinked at her. “Why?”

“I hadn’t done it since before Gram died, and I just—the thing is, I always left custody of the boys to her. Because I didn’t want Laura or Monica to split them up—” She bit her lip. “And, uh, Drew knew that I didn’t want Jake living with Sam.”

Jason exhaled slowly and Elizabeth was grateful that he didn’t press her on that. “Okay.”

“Anyway—I thought—” Elizabeth twisted her hands together. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but of course you’d get custody of Jake. I just—”

“You want the boys to stay together if anything happened to you,” Jason finished.

“Yes. I talked to Laura. She’s okay with it, and Lucky can have a say when he starts paying child support,” Elizabeth said. “Until then, it’s my decision since I have full custody. So, if it’s okay with you, I told Scott to name you as guardian for all three of them. In the unlikely event that I even have to worry about it.”

“Oh.” Jason blinked at her. “I didn’t—”

“It’s a lot to take on,” she hurried, “and they’ve got trust funds from Gram—I made sure their inheritance went right into the bank for when they’re eighteen, and maybe I should have talked to you before Scott—”

“Elizabeth—” Jason held up a hand. “Of course you can put me down as guardian for Cameron and Aiden. I don’t want to ever have to handle that situation,” he added, “but the boys should be together. I’ll make sure that happens.”

“Good. Good.” She flashed him a faint smile. “Thanks. I hate to even talk about it, but it just makes sense—oh, I almost forgot.” She went over to a bag hanging up with the coats and drew out a folder. “I wanted to wait until the boys were upstairs because I didn’t want to get into this around them, but Lucky emailed me—”

Elizabeth handed it to him. “It’s the Cassadine genealogy he put together to start tracking down relatives. He said he and Luke were still on Faison’s trail, but he was going to keep his ear to the ground for anyone he’s missed.”

Jason flipped through the paperwork. “This matches mostly what Spinelli put together,” he said after a few minutes. “It’s not that long—”

“No, a lot of Cassadines died without male heirs. Stefan never had any children that we know about, and Victor only has Nathan West.” When Jason frowned, Elizabeth continued, “Dante’s partner at the PCPD. He’s Victor and Liesl Obrecht’s son. It’s a long story. Then there was Victor’s brother, Tony. But he and Alexandra Quartermaine accidentally froze themselves to death a few days before Mikkos died. The line’s been dying out for a few decades, Lucky said. It’s really just Spencer, Valentin, Charlotte, and a couple of scattered cousins out in Greece.”

“So we’re back to Valentin Cassadine,” Jason said, closing the folder. “Do you think he’s the Cassadine Maddox was talking about?”

“Maybe. Probably. But he just seemed so much more cryptic than that, and I still don’t understand why Valentin would send Ava to the same clinic where you were being kept.” Elizabeth drew a leg up on the sofa, making a face. “And they’re Cassadines, you know. Helena died at least three times before she finally died for real. You weren’t even around for the second and third time Stavros Cassadine came back, and while I’m pretty sure Nikolas is dead—they never found his body.” Though she didn’t really believe that. Nikolas would have come home by now if he’d been able.

“Not that finding a body means a lot when it comes to the Cassadines,” Jason muttered.

“I’m sorry. I wish this was more helpful.”

“It’s fine. I’ll get Spinelli to do a check on the cousins, and we’ll keep our eye on Valentin here in Port Charles.” He paused. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “What they did to me and Drew, to Jake—it wasn’t planned overnight, so we’re not going to have the answers right away.”

“I know. It doesn’t make it easier,” Elizabeth said. “But I just need to know Jake is safe. That the Cassadines can’t come back and do this to another generation. I don’t want Spencer or my boys fighting these battles the way Lucky and I have our entire lives. I want to be done with them.”

“We will be,” Jason promised.

Devane Manor: Living Room

“Let me get this straight.”

Drew glared at the pair of WSB agents in front of him. “Andre is going to be transferred to a cushy WSB facility where he’s not going to be charged with anything, and you’re going to let him continue his research because you’re hoping he comes clean with the truth?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Robert began with a wince, “it doesn’t sound that great. Anna—you explain it to him. It sounds better when you tell it.”

Anna arched a slim brow at her ex-husband. “Yes, well, the accent can put a bit of polish on any pile of rubbish, but I’m with Drew on this one, darling. This is a terrible deal.”

“Thank you.” Drew folded his arms. “I thought you said Frisco Jones wanted to redeem the honor of the WSB. How is this doing that—”

“Because—” Anna put a hand. “Because you’re right. This is a terrible deal, but it does not change the fact that Andre Maddox knows where many of the dead bodies are buried. Quite  literally. He’s also told us that the records of the experiments—including your memories—are gone.”

Drew’s stomach sank. “They are—”

“Which I don’t buy for a second,” Robert declared. “He spent more than five years putting this project together—and he stayed on it after Helena Cassadine died in 2015. Either he was running the show after she was gone and holding Morgan hostage in Russia, or there’s another person behind all of this—”

“Well, duh,” Anna said, rolling her eyes. “We know that the big bad is Valentin Cassadine, but we cannot prove it. All we really have is Valentin’s knowledge of the clinic’s existence which does not translate into knowledge of all that transpired between its walls. Maddox refuses to admit anyone other than Helena and Victor were involved. Which means he’s too terrified to tell us the truth or he believes that Valentin can still give him something.” She looked to Drew again. “We need to buy time, Drew. Either for Andre to trust us to keep him safe or to find some new leverage to force the truth out of him.”

Drew scrubbed his hands over his face. “This is insane. This agency stole my life—”

“I know—”

“Do you? Because I have a son I don’t know, and two more sons that aren’t mine—and I’ve got a brother I never knew about who lost five years of his damn life—at least I got to walk around for three of those years!” Drew retorted. “Do you know what it’s like to be locked up inside your own body, unable to move?”

“Actually, we both do. I’ve given up quite a bit for the WSB,” Anna told him. “We sacrificed most of our daughter’s life for this agency, and nearly lost our own in the process. Frisco gave up his family to work for the WSB. To think that Victor Cassadine and his minions did this to you under the aegis of this agency we’ve shed so much blood for—” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Drew. I wish I could hand you a folder full of answers right now. I simply can’t. This is the best I can do.”

“For now,” Robert stressed. “We’re still searching for Maddox’s files and contacts. We’re not giving up on knowing more. And if there are Cassadines out there, well, you know Luke Spencer will track them down. It’s in the blood, you know. Spencer’s got a nose for this kind of crap. Whether we come at it from Valentin or from Maddox—we will make it right.”

“There is no making this right,” Drew said with a scowl. “So just focus on making it over. That’s the least you can do.”

May 9, 2021

Update Link:  Not Knowing When – Part 16

Happy Sunday and Happy Mother’s Day! I hope everyone is having a wonderful weekend! I’m looking forward to this upcoming week for a few reasons, but mostly because Fool Me Twice is finally returning! Chapters 21-29 are edited and scheduled to post every Monday & Thursday through June 7. I’m hoping to have Chapters 30-38 ready to go by that point.

I’m also hopeful because I’ve finished writing the content for my class this year, and I don’t feel the need to rewrite it like I usually do at this point in the cycle. I also get the final word on whether I’m being asked to come back next year to teach (just waiting for the superintendent to sign off!) so a lot of things are going my way. I’m still struggling a bit outside of the professional stuff, but I’m talking through a lot of things in therapy and I’m trying very hard to be kinder to myself and set more realistic expectations for my writing.

This is the last Flash Fiction update until around June 11. By then, I’ll only have two days left in the school year (two half days where the kids will be jumping off the walls, LOL) so we’ll start working on a summer schedule.

I’m not entirely sure what project I want to work on after I’m done editing FMT. I had Smoke & Mirrors going, but there’s some hitches in the process that I’ll get into with another post or a vlog at some point. I’m toying with Mad World Book 4 because I think there are reasons I needed a break, but I also think there are reasons diving back into either that or Broken Girl will actually be good for me.

I’ll see you guys tomorrow with the return of FMT!

This entry is part 16 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 69 minutes. Sorry, I wanted to get the final Liason scene just right. No time for spell check or typos.


PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac knew—from the battle light in Diane Miller’s eyes as the redheaded lawyer sauntered into his office the morning after Elizabeth had disappeared from lock-up—he knew that whatever papers she pulled out of her briefcase would not be good for him.

“Ms. Miller—”

“This—” Diane set the papers down. “This is a proposed order from the district attorney dropping all charges against Elizabeth Webber—her legal name,” she added coolly, “as she has not filed paperwork to change it.”

“We’re still looking for her—”

“If Baldwin declines to drop the charges, this—” She set down a thicker packet of paper next to the first pile. “This will be filed directly with the court, suing the PCPD for negligence and alleging corruption in allowing my client to be dragged and kidnapped from your custody, leading to Luis Alcazar putting a bullet in her shoulder and shoving her, bound and gagged, into Lake Ontario.”

Mac shoved to his feet, his stomach dropping as her words sank in. “What—” Elizabeth, shot and nearly drowned? “How—”

“He tried to trade her for Brenda Barrett. You get Ms. Barrett’s statement and an interview with Ms. Webber only when the charges are dropped.”

Mac hesitated. “She’s alive then.”

“No thanks to you and the others. You knew she didn’t do this, and you arrested her anyway. If you want to close your case in the Smith murder, you’ll make sure Baldwin drops these charges. Or I will sue you and Scott personally as well the city and the department for putting my client in danger.”

Diane arched her brow when Mac just stared at her. “What will it be, Commissioner?”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“What are you doing out of bed?” Carly demanded as she stalked down the stairs, finding Jason standing by the desk with Brenda and Sonny. “You nearly drowned—”

Jason frowned at his best friend. “Because I was tired. I slept.”

“For five minutes?”

“Until a half hour ago. Six hours is enough for me,” he told her patiently. “I’m fine—”

“You—”

“-should be checking on Elizabeth,” Brenda interrupted smoothly. “You know, staying with her to make sure she’s recovering. The girl dragged herself out with an infection and fever.”

Carly narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips, and took a long look at her nemesis before looking back at Jason. “Okay. Yeah. That. And you do that by being at home, resting.”

“If the two of you are done,” Sonny said dryly, “we’re waiting on Diane to tell us how things went at the PCPD—”

“Oh, and Jason can’t find that out, laying down and taking it easy?” Carly poked Sonny in the chest. “No. You can go tell him—”

Sonny scowled, but before he could respond, the phone on his desk rang. He snatched it up. “Yeah? Yeah. Okay. Thanks. Thanks. Yeah, worth every penny.”

“Well?” Brenda demanded when Sonny had hung up. He ignored the women and turned his atttention to Jason.

“Mac got Scott to sign off on it. Charges are dropped. It’s over,” he added. “Zander’s murder will probably go down as a cold case, but unofficially, Mac said he’s willing to accept Alcazar was behind it.”

“That’s a relief,” Brenda said. “Luis is dead, you and Elizabeth are off the hook,” she said to Jason. “So if one of the guards can help me take my stuff back to the cottage, I’ll figure out what’s next.” Her lips twisted. “With what time is left.”

“You keep talking about dying,” Carly said with a roll of her eyes, “but you barely even seem sick. How do we know you’re not just making this up?”

Sonny growled. “Carly!”

“Why would I—” Brenda stared at the blonde virago, her retort ending abruptly. “I never opened the results.”

“Brenda?” Jason asked, putting a hand on her shoulders as she pressed her hands to her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Before the accident,” she said softly. “I never had a chance to open them. Jax said he threw them out. But I had them done again. With Luis. In the beginning. Before—” She closed her eyes. “Before I realized who he was.”

“You think he was lying?” Sonny asked.

“Well, of course he was,” Carly said, her patience at its absolute end. “Look what he went through to make sure Brenda never had any choices. He came after you and Jax. He tried to kill Elizabeth and Jason so he could get to her—he stalked her—you’ve been taking his word for it all this time?” she demanded, disgusted. “How stupid are you?”

“Carly—” Jason began.

“No-no-” Brenda shook her head, her voice thick. “No. Don’t—she’s right. God, she’s absolutely right.”

“Of course I am. Go take another stupid test with a reputable doctor. Honestly.” Carly stomped off towards the stairs. “Do I have to do everything around here?”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason left Sonny to deal with Brenda and getting her back to the cottage, still shaking his head over Carly and her bold, almost offensive ways of getting things done. It hadn’t occured to him that Brenda would have learned about her illness through Alcazar, but trust Carly to see right through it.

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked as Jason closed the door behind him. She struggled to sit up, wincing as she accentally put pressure on her shoulder. He hurried over to help her sit up further, then felt her forehead.

“Fever still gone,” he said. “But you should be sleeping—”

“I’ve been sleeping forever. Isn’t that what you said when you got dressed? Only one of us spent half the night swimming in the lake,” she muttered, but laid back against the pillows. Her skin was still too pale, but he had to admit that she was doing better.

“I took a long swim. You were shot and dumped in the lake—”

“Yeah, I think I liked the first kidnapping better,” she decided.

“You’re not getting a third to help you decide.”

Elizabeth cracked open her eye, one irritated slit of blue glaring at him. “You’re not going to try anything stupid like pushing me away again, are you? I will soak you if you try to divorce me. I’ll take everything.”

He gently smoothed her hair off her forehead, tucking a piece behind her ear. “I’d give it all to you if it meant you were safe,” he admitted. “But no,” he added when she growled. “No. We settled that in Vegas. You’re going to have to doing the walking.”

“Okay. Well, at least we don’t have to fight that.” She forced her eyes open. “Did you hear from Diane or should I make sure I’m wearing pants in case I get hauled back to jail?”

“Charges are dropped. You—and I—are good. They didn’t want the lawsuit.”

“Good.” She stifled a yawn. “Do you have to go anywhere?”

“No.”

“Even better. Take a nap with me.”

“A nap?” Jason repeated, even as he kicked off his boots. “I’m not tired—”

“No, but you’re comfy and warm, and I need my rest.” She tugged him down next to her. “So stop complaining.”

Cottage: Living Room

Brenda folded her arms. “It’s so weird,” she told Elizabeth. “I don’t even know what to do with the rest of my life. I was so sure I’d be dead in a few years.”

“It’s good news,” Elizabeth reminded her.

“I know. I just…I have to rethink. I can go back to work. I can have a life again.” Brenda bit her lip. “I don’t even know where to start.” She nodded at Elizabeth who rotated her shoulder and winced. “That looks like it still hurts.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s been a week but it’s still sore. Jason is finally letting me out of his sight again. I convinced him to go to the warehouse.” Elizabeth rubbed the spot on her shoulder where the bullet had dug through, grimacing. “Diane dropped off a bunch of paperwork for me. Financial stuff. Name changing.”

“Ah.” Brenda nodded. “Marriage stuff.” She tipped her head. “So you’re staying married, then.”

“I guess. I don’t know. She said Jason didn’t ask about any of it, but that Sonny had. So I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. We were…figuring things out, and then—” Elizabeth looked at her hand, still bare.

“Then you got dumped in the lake and Jason almost died saving your life.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth met Brenda’s eyes. “I came over to hear about your results, but I also—you kept looking. I know Sonny had given up hope, but you stayed out there. Thank you. For bringing him back.”

“He promised me that you and I would get out of this alive,” Brenda said softly. “I knew he would have done anything to make that happen. Jason’s always taken care of me, even when I didn’t want him to. I wasn’t going to let him go. And you would have been right there with me if you were able to.”

“Still. Jason and I have a chance to figure things out because of you. And—don’t you dare tell Sonny this—but if you hadn’t started that insane marriage idea, then Sonny wouldn’t have dragged me to Vegas. Even with everything that happened—I’m grateful.”

“It’s kind of romantic if you forget why Jason was at the chapel in the first place,” Brenda said. “He looked so pissed when he dragged you through that door.”

“Very romantic,” she said dryly. “Glaring at me and asking me if I wanted proof or not—”

“But you married him.” Brenda tilted her head. “What made you go through with it? I would have jabbed the pen in his eye.”

Elizabeth hesitated, then just smiled at her. “Thank you,” she said again, getting to her feet. “For bringing Jason home.”

“Thank you for showing up in Vegas or I might be Mrs. Jason Morgan right now.” Brenda shuddered. “No, thank you.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth grinned when she came in and found Jason lining up a shot at the pool table. “Hey. I thought you would still be at work.”

“I was, and then Diane asked if you’d signed the papers she dropped off.” He set the pool cue on the table and walked over to her.

“Oh. Yeah. She said Sonny suggested if—if I needed it—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I didn’t really know. I mean, we haven’t really talked about it since before—well, before,” she added.

Jason leaned against the desk. “We can just let it sit,” he told her. “It’s just contracts. I mean, it doesn’t change anything—”

“But it would,” she said. “If I took your name and you put me on your bank accounts. I don’t need that—”

“I know—”

“But there’s other stuff Diane gave me. Life insurance from the warehouse, survivor’s benefits—” She folded her arms. “We can leave it alone and ignore it, but I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t.”

Jason was quiet for a minute. “What do you want to do?”

“I went to see Brenda today to thank her for bringing you home.” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and he parted his legs so that he could hold her against him. “And she asked me why I said yes. Back in Vegas. When you shoved that pen at me.”

Jason winced. “I’m sorry—”

“She asked me why,” Elizabeth repeated, “but I didn’t answer her. Because it’s your question to ask. You wanted to prove that you loved me. And I said yes because I believed you. Because of how it happened. I didn’t until then.”

“That’s…” Jason frowned. “You believed me because I was angry and rude?”

“You were angry, rude, almost offensive, and demanding I marry you because I’d been driving you crazy. Yeah.” She brushed her lips against his. “You weren’t worrying about me anymore, trying to spare my feelings. Trying to say the right thing. I was terrified you’d regret it later.”

“I don’t—” Jason rested his forehead against hers. “I thought you would.”

“I don’t. It might not have been right for anyone else, but it was perfect for me. I’ve had the proposal before, I’ve had the white dress. But Lucky didn’t love me. You do.”

“I do.” Jason kissed her again, then gently pushed her back so he could reach into the top drawer of the desk. “While I was out…” He took out an envelope. “I picked these up.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips as she stepped back and slid out the plane tickets. Two round trip tickets to Venice, Italy, leaving in three days. “Italy,” she murmured.

“Starting in Venice, but you should see Florence. And Sicily. Naples,” he added. “I want to show it to you.”

She raised her eyes from the tickets to find him holding out a ring. It wasn’t in a box and he wasn’t on one knee. It was just a tiny little gold bond with a few rubies and diamonds inset, held between his thumb and index finger. “I thought—”

“You wanted to wait to get rings until it was right.” Jason straightened and reached for her hand. He slid it on her finger. “Well?” he asked, and he grinned as he said, obviously remembering that he’d said the same thing to her that crazy dawn in Vegas when she’d hesitated and he’d snapped at her.

How different things were now, barely even two weeks later.

Elizabeth smirked, reached behind him for the folder that Diane had left and grabbed a pen, scrawling her name on the only piece of paper that mattered—taking Jason’s name and making them a family.

“Does that answer your question?”

Jason framed her face in his hands and kissed her, her smirk disappearing. “Yeah, it does,” he whispered against her mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

May 2, 2021

Update Link: Not Knowing When – Part 15

Where do I even start? This has been the absolute strangest year and I feel like I’ve bouncing around so much mentally. I’ll have a few good days and I’ll think I’m back on track, then I’ll have an entire week of just terrible days where getting out of bed is the worst. I’ve been trying hard to deal with it on my own, but honestly, it’s kind of beyond me to handle. So I started therapy through Better Help this week. I have a counselor who specializes in anxiety and stress and her first big piece of advice was to be more mindful and to set tiny, realistic goals that are attainable every day.  I thought I was doing that, but my idea of realistic is, uh, the opposite, LOL.

What does any of that mean for the writing? I’m not sure yet. I love writing, but it takes mental and creative energy that’s been difficult to find these days. Especially when I need to use a decent amount every day at work. One of the other things I have to work on is my constant drive for perfection in everything I do, whether that’s in the writing or in the materials I create for my students. You guys might remember that I walked into this job without zero preparation or materials. There wasn’t even a textbook or a program for me to pull resources from. The curriculum is pretty vague, so my program is one hundred percent teacher generated. Since I turn over every fifteen school days, I’ve been constantly rewriting it. This last cycle I finished on Friday was the best one yet, but there was one major piece of feedback from my students I couldn’t ignore — so I’m rewriting my materials one more time to create a full fledged textbook of my own that I’ll be able to build on.

I’m so happy with the end product of an entire year of experimenting but you might imagine it’s been incredibly stressful and exhausting to be writing my program every month at the same time I’m trying to deliver the content and write in my spare time. You also know that I tend to be my own worst critic and I never feel like anything I write is good enough. I made a resolution this year to be kinder to myself, and I haven’t been very good at keeping it. I’m going to try again and hope this time, I actually listen.

My plan for May is largely to finish what’s in progress. Not Knowing When will be completed next week, and then after that I’ll be taking May off from Flash Fiction just to reset and look at my two remaining projects to make some plans and a new schedule. I’m still not finished editing Fool Me Twice — I’ve been stuck on writing Chapter 30 (the last brand new chapter) and then after that, I have to finish the first round of edits on Chapters 31-38 before completing the second round of edits on Chapters 21-38.

I know it’s highly unlikely I’ll finish that before I’m scheduled to come back on May 9, so I’m adjusting my expectations. I’m going to finish the second edits on Chapters 21-29 and bring those back. We’ll be posting on Mondays & Thursdays, twice a week. I’ll have nine chapters, which gives me about a month of posts. About that point, I’ll be winding down my school year so I’m hoping to have finished enough chapters to keep posting through the end of the book. If not, we’ll deal with it at that point.

After I finish posting FMT, I’m going to take some time off — probably whatever is left of June and the first week of July. I’m going to rest from the year, reset, do some work around the house, and just try to figure how to devote time to writing without setting insane schedules (like writing three books a year, what is wrong with me, lol). I may be writing Flash Fiction during that period or I might not. We’ll see how long it takes to finish editing FMT.

As always, thanks for your support and patience! I’ve got a huge backlist of stories while you’re waiting for me to get myself together 🙂

This entry is part 15 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 48 minutes. Did a spellcheck.


Clinic

Carly bit down on her nail as she watched Elizabeth twist and turn in the small bed, her face flushed. “How bad is the fever?” she asked the doctor who had bandaged and cleaned the gun shot wound.

“High,” the man said grimly as he pressed down on Elizabeth’s good shoulder to keep her from reopening the wound. “But we’ll get it down with the antibiotics.” He looked at her. “She was partially lucid when they brought her in, asking for Jason.”

“They haven’t found him yet,” Carly murmured, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. Oh, God, what if they didn’t find him? What if he had already drowned—what if she’d never see him again?

She couldn’t stand to think of him sinking below the cold, dark waters of the lake. Dying alone. Drowning, desperate for air.

She turned away from Elizabeth and went back into the outside room where Max was pacing, talking into the cell phone.

“Any news?” she asked him, even though she knew the answer. She could see it from his face. “Max?”

“Hey, Mrs. C. One second—okay. Okay.” Max closed the phone and slipped it into the pocket of his trousers. His suit jacket had been discarded somewhere, and his dark hair was still damp from being out on the water. “Sonny’s on the pier, and Brenda and Richie and the others are still looking.”

“It’s been—” Carly folded her arms tightly around her upper torso. “It’s been an hour. Almost ninety minutes.” She’d been counting down since the moment the call had come over the radio that Elizabeth had gone overboard. Sonny had snapped into action and left their car to start the rescue.

Seventy-six minutes.

“The current is strong in the lake, Mrs. C. You know that. We think Jason just got caught up. Part of that current in some areas can bring him closer to the shore,” Max assured her. “He might even be on his way home now—”

“I want to be on the docks when Sonny comes back,” Carly said. “You can stay here with Elizabeth, can’t you? She’s—I’m not her favorite person on a good day, but, um—” She rubbed a finger across her bottom lip. “It’s my fault.”

“How do you figure that?”

“They weren’t telling anyone they were married because they knew the PCPD would go after her. She never would have been in lockup if it wasn’t for me.”

“Mrs. C—” Max stopped. He didn’t deny her statement, and somehow, that comforted Carly. “I’ll stay here, and have someone drive you down.”

Pier 52

Sonny paced from the cargo door of the Corinthos-Morgan warehouse to the pier where the rescue boat had launched, then back again.

Eighty-seven minutes. He, too, had started the count from the moment Jason had gone into the water after Elizabeth. It had taken almost twenty minutes to find them, another twenty to get Elizabeth to shore—

They’d been searching for Jason for almost an hour. He wanted to believe, like Richie and some of the other guards who seemed to understand these things better, that he might get lucky and get swept towards another part of the shore. He had men scouring the all the places Jason could have washed up—

But part of Sonny was terrified that the next time he saw his best friend, his partner, his brother would be when his body floated to the surface of Lake Ontario.

He picked up the radio. “Any sign?” he demanded. There was a crackling and then an exhausted voice came back.

“No. Not yet. But I’m coming back without him,” Brenda said. “Elizabeth?”

“Holding her own. Doc says infection is setting in and so is a fever, but she’s on meds. I want Jason next to her when she wakes up.”

Brenda was quiet for a moment. “Sonny—”

“I know.” He released the button, pressed the radio to his forehead and forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Sonny?”

He turned at the sound of his wife’s voice. Carly strode out of the dark, her sweater pulled tightly around her. “What are you—”

“Max is at the clinic. I couldn’t stand—” She stared out over the dark water, the lights of Spoon Island barely visible through the fog. “I couldn’t stand being there. I was afraid she’d wake up and I’d have to tell her. I can’t—” Her voice faltered. “I can’t be the one to tell her.”

“She was on these docks the night Zander was murdered because of me,” Sonny said faintly. Carly frowned at him. “Jason thought she was still being guarded after she left the penthouse, but I reassigned Marco. I didn’t realize—”

“Sonny—”

“Jason was right. I was selfish. I didn’t care about Elizabeth. I didn’t think about who Marco was protecting, even though I could have asked. Weeks when Alcazar could have grabbed her.”

“It—it worked out,” Carly said weakly. “They went to Vegas—”

“Because I dragged her there and lied to her.  Maybe it worked out—but at the end of the day, if I were a better friend—” Sonny stared out over the lake again. “I wouldn’t be waiting for his body to be brought back.”

Clinic

Elizabeth’s throat was scratchy and dry, her eyes almost too heavy to lift—but she forced them open when she realized the man sitting next to her wasn’t Jason.

“M-Max?”

“Mrs. M.” Max’s smile felt forced, even as he squeezed her hand. “Your fever’s better. Good. Doc was worried—”

“Where’s—” She licked her lips, sweeping her tongue over the cracked and sore skin. “Jason. Where’s…”

“Uh, we’re, um, trying to answer that question now,” Max told her.

“He’s—” It came back to her in a rush—the freezing water, the way Jasons’ body had trembled under hers as he’d pushed the life belt over her head. He’d been so tired—he’d dragged himself and her towards that boat—

“Max—”

“Don’t you worry a bit, okay? Mr. C is out there, and Brenda and the guys—we’re not coming home without him. And you know, Jason’s like a cat. He’s got nine lives, and he’s only used like…” Max’s voice sped up. “Oh, don’t cry. No. We’re going to find him.”

He’d gone into the water with no wet suit, no life preserver, to save her life, and then had used every ounce of strength to drag her to safety.

She couldn’t lay here and wait for someone to tell her was dead.

“I need to—” Elizabeth twisted, reaching for the IV in her arm, tried to drag it out of her wrist with trembling fingers. “I need to go—I need to help—”

“No, no. Jason wouldn’t want this, okay? He made Mr. C promise he’d make sure you were safe.”

But Elizabeth wasn’t listening. She tore the tape off the IV, barely even feeling the sear on her skin, then pulled the needle out. “Clothes. I need clothes.”

“Jason is going to kill me,” Max muttered as he got to his feet, holding Elizabeth up as she stumbled out of bed.

“What’s going on in here?” the doctor demanded as he appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing out of bed? Max—”

“Uh, find me some clothes—” Max said, wrapping an arm around Elizabeth’s waist as she swayed.

“She needs to be back in bed—”

“No! No! If you don’t take me to the pier, I’ll just walk,” Elizabeth said, shoving away the doctor’s hands. “No—”

“Listen,” Max said as Elizabeth stumbled towards a closet, hoping to find clothes, “she means it. I’ll go with her, and bring her right back as soon as we know.”

“It’ll be on your head,” the doctor muttered but went to find some sweats to put the patient in.

Pier 52

Ninety-eight minutes since he’d gone into the water.

Ninety-nine.

Then one hundred and five. One hundred and ten.

“She’s still out there,” Carly said as Sonny finished listening to Brenda’s increasingly weak voice say they’d cleared another part of the lake but were going to keep looking. “It’s almost two hours.”

“She blames herself.”

“A lot of that going around.” Carly rubbed her arms. “Sonny. It’s nearly one in the morning. I—I don’t know if—could he still be alive? If he’s still in the water—” Her husband turned to look at her. “It’s just—it’s so cold.”

“I can’t stop. He wouldn’t.” Sonny put an arm around her, drawing her into his embrace. “You’re freezing. Why don’t you—”

“So that you can get the news alone when they find him?” she shook her head. “No. If it’s the worst—” She cleared her throat. “No. We’ll face it together.”

There were footsteps shuffling behind them and they turned to find Max coming out of the darkness, carefully walking just in front of Elizabeth who looked like death warmed over.

“What the—” Carly blinked. “What you are doing here?”

“I couldn’t—” Elizabeth took a deep breath as the chill settled into her bones. Oh, God, the water was so cold. She knew Jason didn’t always feel the cold but it didn’t mean it didn’t effect him.

What if he was already—

“I couldn’t sit there and wait. I needed—” She winced as she moved her shoulder. “I needed to be here.”

“But—”

“You could go instead,” Sonny said, “into the warehouse or something—”

“I’m okay—”

There was a crackling over the radio as Brenda’s voice came in. “Sonny? Sonny!”

“I’m here,” Sonny said, raising the device to his lips. “What’s up? Where are you?”

“We—we found—just—” There was shuffle as Elizabeth’s heart began to pound and Carly clenched her hands into fists.

“Sonny?”

Sonny closed his eyes and Elizabeth’s knees buckled — because it was Jason’s voice, exhausted and faint, crackling over the connection.

“Hey,” Sonny managed. “Hey. She found you.”

“We’re heading back in, but he wanted to know about Elizabeth—”

“I can do you one better.” Sonny held the radio up to Elizabeth’s lips.

“Jason?”

“Elizabeth. You’re…okay.”

Tears stung her eyes as the wind bit into her cheeks. She didn’t feel the cold anymore. She took the radio from Sonny with her good hand. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay. Are you?”

“….tired…” His voice faded out and Brenda came back on the line.

“He washed up about three miles out. We were right about the currents, but he’s tired. He swam a long time. We’re trying to keep him awake until we come back—”

“I can help. I can help. Jason.”

“…yeah?”

“Remember that winter at my studio? When you were always trying to sleep and I kept you up because I hum and talk to myself?”

She could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah.”

“This time I can do it on purpose. Oh, come all ye faithful,” her voice warbled and Sonny laughed. Carly pressed her hands to her face as Elizabeth continued to sing off-key and hoarsely to keep Jason awake as Brenda and the guards brought him home.