Written in 75 minutes. Lizzie kept walking back and forth, distracting me, lol, and I wanted to get to this ending point.

Friday, October 27, 2000

 Memphis International Airport: Baggage Claim

Emily lifted her bag from the conveyor belt, then stepped back to wait as Elizabeth searched for her own. “When was the last time you even saw your brother? Like in person? He’s never come to see you, and I don’t think you went to see him. Did you?”

“No—” Elizabeth stopped, snatched the handle of her suitcase before she missed it. “Um, right before my parents went overseas — Steven came home for like twelve seconds. You know, one last family dinner.”

“I can’t imagine not seeing either of my brothers that long. It was killing me that Jason was gone for so long,” Emily said. She scanned the paper in her hand, squinting. “Okay, Grandfather said he arranged for a car to take us to the hotel and that a rental will be waiting for us. Already parked.”

“Grandfather?”

“Oh, yeah, I know you vetoed using the corporate jet—”

“Because it’s insane to fly private when it’s like a two-hour flight, and—” Elizabeth stopped. “And if you’d agreed to the layover in Detroit, we would have saved so much money.” She furrowed her brows. “You said you were going to ask Ned where we would stay since he came through Memphis on his last tour. It’s…it’s somewhere I can pay you back, isn’t it? Like the Holiday Inn or something?”

Emily tilted her head. “Well, I was going to, but then Grandfather said the Peabody had a gorgeous lobby—historical and all that. You’re so artistic, you know, it’s perfect. You’ll love it, he said. And they have a wicked restaurant, and there’s like a spa, and it’s so close to every—don’t give me that look, Liz. Your birthday is on Tuesday. And we’re in one of the coolest cities. We’re going to have a good time after we talk to your stupid brother.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but Emily was already waving at the well-dressed man holding a placard looking for Emily Quartermaine. No point in arguing when Emily had her mind made up. And Memphis did seem pretty cool.

“Okay, but for your birthday, you’ll have to come to see me in London so I can spoil you,” she told Emily. “Let’s go.”

Luke’s: Bar

“I think I’ve seen you more in the last few weeks than the last few years,” Luke quipped, setting a bottle of Rolling Rock in front of Jason. “Doesn’t really seem like your scene anymore.” The club hadn’t quite reached the zenith of its Friday night crowd, in body or in volume, but there were enough people that Jason had sat himself at the end of the bar, where it curved towards the kitchen, and looked out over the rest of the club. It wasn’t much different then Jake’s, Jason thought, except Jake knew enough to leave him alone.

Luke probably knew Jason wasn’t interested in conversation, but Luke would never let something like that stop him.

“Wasn’t back then,” Jason said, finally. But since he was here and Luke didn’t look like he was going anywhere— “You know that the deal I told you about? Me and Sonny splitting things off and dealing with Sorel. That’s over. So if you have any problems—take it to Sonny.”

“That lasted about eight seconds longer than I thought I would.” Luke poured himself a whiskey. “You and Corinthos not seeing eye to eye on the whole thing anymore?”

Jason weighed his next words carefully. It would be easy to brush Luke off and leave. He’d come to the bar to distract himself, to avoid being alone with his thoughts. He didn’t owe Luke any answers.

But there’d been a time when Luke had been a confidante. When this club had been almost a second home. How many times had he and Robin grabbed a meal here? How many hours had he spent in the office, sorting out Luke’s haphazard bookkeeping?

His life had started here in some ways. He’d met Sonny here a lifetime ago, sitting outside in the parking lot without a job or any money. Sonny had offered some kindness and some cash to tide him over. Jason had appreciated the gesture, and when Sonny had given him the opportunity to work for him, he’d leapt at it. Sonny was the only person who’d treated him like a whole person after the accident. No, not just a whole person — but as his own person. Not a placeholder for the boy who’d jumped in a car with his drunk brother and had his head cracked open on a rock.

And for years, that had been the through line that kept Jason steady even as every other piece of his newly constructed reality had broken apart. His relationship with Robin, once so strong and familiar, disintegrated until they couldn’t stand each other. His brief experience as Michael’s father — even when Jason had run the business Sonny had left in his care for over a year — he knew that Sonny was out there. A guiding presence.

On a bitter winter night nearly a year ago now, the last piece of that world had been shattered and now Jason had very little left. It was only now, after months away from Port Charles, that Jason realized how small his life had become before he’d left.

“Not a good idea trying to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle,” Luke said, and Jason looked at him, blinked. Realized he’d been quiet too long — and had somehow finished nearly a third of the alcohol Luke had given him. “Runs in the family, you know. Addiction. AJ and Alan could tell you that.”

Jason’s mouth tightened, but he rejected the opportunity to deny Luke’s words — to claim defensively, as he had so often since the accident, that those men weren’t his family. They weren’t in anyway that mattered, but it seemed petty and small to say so.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in town,” Jason said finally, because that seemed like a safe topic. “Sonny doesn’t…really have a use for me.”

Luke didn’t respond right away. Sipped his drink, leaned against the back of the bar. “You can’t be around if Sonny doesn’t need you? What about your sister’s problem?”

“I’ll see that through, but—” Jason lifted a shoulder, almost carelessly. “After that, no point in staying.”

“No point,” Luke repeated. “You know, I almost like having you around. I find your surly nature charming,” he added when Jason lifted his brows. “You and me, we made okay partners back when Corinthos left you high and dry. You’re the only one I ever trusted with the books, you know. You don’t care enough to take my money, and you’re the most honest mobster I’ve ever met. Probably why you washed out real quick when it was your turn to run things.”

Jason scowled. “I didn’t wash—”

“One thing to take the risk yourself, but once you had the kid, you got anxious and worried. And God knows Robin wasn’t gonna try too hard to talk you out of it.” Luke sipped his whiskey again. “I know what that’s like. Trying a different life because a woman makes you want to be better. I did it for Laura as long as I could, you know. Most guys have a bomb put in their limos, they take revenge. Higher body count. You cut and run.”

“I don’t need this—”

“That’s not a criticism, Morgan. It’s a compliment. You had something worth protecting. Robin was a grown woman, could make her own choices to stick around your brand of danger. You bring a kid into it, changes things. Michael couldn’t choose, couldn’t protect himself. So you did the hard thing.” Luke finished his whiskey. “I find it fascinating, I gotta tell you. I always tried to play it both ways. So did Sonny. But not you. You never could. You never liked the shades of gray required to play this game.” He set the empty glass down. “We could do the same terms we had back in the day. Same shares. I’m controlling partner, you do the books. And you drink for free.” He flipped up the bar flap and disappeared into the back office.”

Spencer House: Kitchen

Laura closed the dishwasher, switched it open, then turned to look at her son, still sitting sullenly at the table. “You know, it’d be nice if I didn’t have to guilt you into coming for dinner once in a while, Lucky.”

He sighed at the irritation in her tone, scrubbed his hands down his face, and straightened. “I’m sorry. I told you I’d be in a rotten mood if you made me come over.”

“Hm.” Laura pulled out the chair catty-corner to his, sat down and folded her arms. “Would this have to do with Elizabeth?”

He thought about denying it, but his mother could read a liar from a thousand miles away. Didn’t always do anything with the information, but you couldn’t fool her. “I just don’t understand how she could throw everything away. We just…” He picked at the edge of a napkin, unused from dinner. “We just found each other again.” He met his mother’s gaze. “If I could go back and tell her just to take the stupid job, we’d be fine.”

“Until she had to travel and was gone for weeks, or even months,” Laura pointed, and he wrinkled his nose. Couldn’t argue with that. “Lucky, I haven’t pressed you on this. I wanted to,” she added when he just shook his head, “but I kept quiet. Even after I heard about Kelly’s. I knew it was an accident, but I still hoped you’d come to me.”

“What would that fix? Can you turn back time? Stop me from being an idiot? It’s a temporary job. She’d have been back at Kelly’s by March. I could have dealt with it that long.” Lucky shoved himself to his feet, went to the fridge to root around for something to drink. “Made her happy, didn’t it? But I had to screw it up. And keep screwing it up,” he muttered. He cracked open a can of soda. Waited for his mother to impart some wisdom. “But she’s not perfect either, Mom. She made mistakes, too.”

“Really?” Laura sat back, the corner of her mouth lifted. “Which ones?”

“She—” Lucky scowled. “She twists thing. You say one thing, and all of sudden, she’s turned it and it’s something you never said. She thinks I fell in love with her because of the rape,” he told her bluntly. “And that’s not what I said.”

“What did you say?”

“I—” He stopped. Searched his memory. “I don’t know. She was talking about this job, making it seem important. More important than it is, you know. She’s gonna follow Chloe around for a few months. Travel, sure. That’s fine. But then it’s this transformational thing that’s going to fix her, going to make her who she was before the rape, when she was into this kind of crap.”

“When you didn’t like her,” Laura finished, and Lucky looked at her sharply. “Your father told me that. When I came home from North Carolina, when he was telling me you’d fallen in love for the first time. You thought she was annoying, that her crush on you was a little embarrassing. But it was different now. Now, she was the center of your world,” Laura continued, her voice soft, and Lucky looked down, staring hard at the linoleum. “Before, when she was interested in fashion. In how she looked. When she was silly and vapid.”

“I never…” Lucky exhaled slowly. Sat down in his chair. “I never used those words. If Dad said that, it was how he saw her. He met her, too. He could see—and yeah, I knew she liked me. But I didn’t think about her like that. You meet her and she’s cute and all, but her attitude — it was nasty, Mom. And she was always out to get Sarah, always trying to make herself look better. She pulled some rotten stunts—”

“And then she was raped,” Laura cut in, and Lucky closed his mouth. “And then she was good enough for you to fall in love with.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight, almost impossible to breathe. “That’s not how it happened. It’s not.” It couldn’t. “I loved her.”

“I’m sure you did, Lucky. And I know she loved you, Lucky. But neither of you are who you’re going to be yet. You’re both so young, even now. And especially then. Before the fire. You’d been through something so terrible, the both of you. Her attack, and the way our family fell apart, Lucky. You found comfort and trust and love in each other. In who you both were at the time. But, honey, can you look at me?”

He force himself to meet his mother’s gaze. “You set very high standards for the people you love. So high that it’s almost impossible to maintain them forever. Your father? You thought he hung the moon. And when you found out he was a flesh and blood human—”

“I don’t want to talk about this—”

“When you realized your father wasn’t perfect, you cut him out. You forced him — and me — to relieve a terrible, buried piece of our past that we had no interest in digging back up,” Laura said. “It was not up to you to force either us to relive. Or to judge how we handled it.”

“Or didn’t handle it,” Lucky muttered. “Fine. Whatever. I’m an asshole—”

“Sometimes, yes, you are.” Laura sighed. “You can be very kind, Lucky. Extraordinarily so. And I’ve loved you every day of your life. You’re loyal and brave and sweet. But you demand perfection from people in your life. Not just perfection, but your idea of perfection. When you found out that I’d had a child during the time I was kidnapped, and that I’d left him to save my own life, and then learned what your father had done to me, what I had forgiven him for, you walked away from me, Lucky. You cut me out. And you decided I was worthless for my choices.”

“Mom—”

“You demand perfection,” Laura repeated, “and when you don’t get it, you are cruel. Unkind. And determined to cut a person down to the marrow. You did that to me,” she said. “To your father, to Nikolas. And you did it to Elizabeth. Because if the conversation you had with her is anything like what you’ve said to me, I’m sorry to tell you — you fell in love with her because she was raped and damaged and you liked that version of her better.”

Almadura Apartments: Street Entrance

The beige block building rose up from the sidewalk, stretching six or seven stories tall, surrounded by a few trees and some greenery that still held some color. Nearly every tree and bush in New York had already lost most of its leaves, but further south — summer was still fighting to keep hold.

The entrance of the building was lit by a dim bulb and a list of names, each accompanied by a buzzer. Elizabeth squinted, searching for the number.

“Well?”

“Hold on, hold on—I thought it was number 15 but that says Corwin—” She frowned. “I don’t see Webber anywhere. Do you?” she asked Emily.

“Let me look—” But a moment later, Emily shook her head, mystified. “No, I don’t. That’s weird. Do you think it’s a mistake?”

“Maybe. Maybe he never updated it. The way he always made it seem, he was so busy. Too busy to call me back, obviously. I’m almost positive it was 15.” She pressed the buzzer, then waited.

A moment later, a voice came through a speaker at the bottom of the panel, tinny and nearly impossible to hear. “Hello?”

“Hello? We’re looking for Steven Webber. He’s supposed to be at this address—” But that wasn’t her voice.

“Webber? Oh, the jackass who lived here before me. He never changed his fricking address. You tell him I’m not forwarding one more damned piece of mail—”

“Wait, wait — how long have you lived here?” Elizabeth asked, leaning in.

“Three months. And no, I don’t know where to find him. If I did, I’d visit and kick his ass. You know he left two busted doors and the landlord still hasn’t fixed them. Go away.”

The voice clicked off and Elizabeth stared at the panel for another moment, trying to reassemble her scattered thoughts. Steven had moved? And never told her? She swallowed hard, blinked back tears.

“I guess we need to go back to the hotel,” Elizabeth said. “We—I’ll call Sarah—”

“Oh, to hell with that. What hospital does he work at? We’re going to get that asshole to talk to us tonight one way or another.”

+31

Written in 59 minutes.

Friday, October 26, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“I’m glad you came by.” Sonny stepped back, allowed Jason to walk past him, then closed the door behind him. “I don’t like how it went on Monday. Like I said, I didn’t know you were involved already—”

“Even if I believed you—” Jason waited until Sonny had turned back and was facing him. “Even if I believed you,” he repeated, “that doesn’t explain why you didn’t call me. Talk to me first.”

Sonny lifted a shoulder, almost carelessly, then wandered over to the table that stretched beneath the windows overlooking downtown Port Charles. “I got out of the habit of that, you know. Last eight months. You haven’t been here—”

“Less than two weeks ago,” Jason said, “you sat across from me at Luke’s and told me the Sorel situation was mine to handle. He was bothering Luke, and he was connected to Zander. That was your idea, not mine, Sonny. If you’d wanted to fix your problems with Luke, that was your opportunity.”

Sonny picked up his coffee, sipped it. “Look, I said I screwed up. I don’t know why we have to go six rounds on this. What’s the difference? Either you handle it, or I do—and you weren’t handling it. Just because—”

“You don’t know what I was doing because you went around me.” Jason stopped, shook his head. “No, it doesn’t track. You didn’t call me after, either. The only reason I was there on Monday was Elizabeth and Emily. They both called me. You didn’t. You didn’t check with me, and you weren’t going to include me.”

“You want the truth?” Sonny lifted his brows. “I don’t need you. I thought I did, and I didn’t. And since you barely want to be here, it shouldn’t be an issue for you. This will get handled, and you can g0—” He made a gesture with his hand towards the door. “Wherever you want.”

I don’t need you.

The silence stretched out between them, the words lingering, the tension so thick that even Jason could feel it. What had he thought he’d accomplish by coming here? That Sonny’s apology would seem more genuine? That there’d be some hint of the man he’d thought was his best friend?

“You don’t need me,” Jason repeated, and Sonny dropped his gaze for a moment, then lifted it — but didn’t quite meet Jason’s eyes. “All right. Fine. I’m not going anywhere until I know for sure my sister and Elizabeth are clear. But we don’t have to pretend anymore, do we?”

“Wait. That—” Sonny took a step forward. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it—”

“That doesn’t make it any less true. You told me last winter that now I know who you are,” Jason said, and Sonny fell silent, his hands clutched around his coffee cup so tightly that his knuckles were white. “You were right. I needed to know. And now I do.”

“Jason—”

But Jason was already out the door. He didn’t slam it shut after him, but Sonny flinched when it closed all the same.

Port Charles Municipal Building: Dara Jensen’s Office

Dara tapped her pen against the desk, skimming the notes she’d hastily scribbled during the interrogation that morning, going over it again—and again. And then again.

“You don’t buy it.”

Dara looked up, met the curious expression from Marcus Taggert in her doorway, then sat back, tossing her pen aside. “Do you?”

“No reason not to, I guess.” He sat down, removed one coffee from the holder in his hand. He slid it across the table slightly, and she took it, but didn’t drink. “It wraps up a few loose ends. Makes that connection we needed between Smith and Wilson.”

“And he just…shows up in the squad room,” Dara said. She peeled back the tab on her coffee cup, made a face. “I just…I don’t have a reason to doubt it, except—”

“Except it doesn’t feel right,” Taggert finished, and she nodded. “I hear you. It’s too neat. We needed a connection, and one showing up like it’s Christmas—I don’t like it.”

“That being said,” Dara said slowly, “there’s no reason to throw out the statement. Not yet. Joe Stevens. You come across him in the investigation?”

“No, but most of the rave rats didn’t exactly stick around the night we found the body. We figure maybe fifty to sixty people got away without us knowing. I’ve got some of my guys canvassing the witnesses again with Stevens’ statement. If he was a regular at the raves—”

“Then I’d feel better. A good Samaritan seeing Smith’s picture in the paper and being a good citizen? I’m too jaded to believe it. Not without more. Corroboration.” Dara tipped her head. “But if you had to guess right now, Marcus, just between us?”

Taggert considered it for a long time, then looked at Dara. “The story Smith was peddling? Or trying to? About Emily Quartermaine framing him, putting the body in his car? I didn’t think twice. He’d tried to manipulate her during the kidnapping, and when it didn’t stick, he tried to make it her fault. No reason to think Emily was more than someone in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He sipped his coffee. “But you tell her last week that the case against Smith is in trouble, that he’s trying to tie her to it, and now we’ve got a magical witness that solves our major problem? Makes a guy think.”

“Devil’s advocate,” Dara said. “If we consider that there’s something to Smith’s account, it’s not like Emily doesn’t have connections to pull this off. Between her brother and Nikolas Cassadine—”

“Sure, maybe she’s got the connections but I don’t see the why. I don’t.” Taggert furrowed his brow. “I’d be more willing to think she told her brother the way things were going and maybe Corinthos or Morgan are trying to make the case get over faster. Emily went through some hell, and it wasn’t exactly her first time. Morgan’s got one slightly redeemable quality, Dara. And it’s how much he loves his baby sister.”

“So Smith’s story is bullshit, but we still might get Jason Morgan on witness tampering?” Dara asked. “Maybe Christmas came early after all.”

Hardy House: Elizabeth’s Bedroom

“I just can’t understand why a simple thing like one’s birth certificate has become such a disaster,” Audrey told her granddaughter, setting down a laundry basket next to Elizabeth’s half-packed suitcase. “And I have half a mind to go with you to Memphis and tell Steven exactly what I think about him not returning your phone calls.”

“Gram—” Elizabeth picked through the basket, pulling a few pieces. “As much as I’d enjoy that, I think—” She looked at her grandmother. “No, I know that this is something I have to do on my own.”

“I just wish you’d told me you were having this problem, darling. I’d have been on the phone with your brother and sister, or trying to help you get your parents in contact — or I would have gone to Colorado myself to sort this out. You should not be dealing with this when you’re starting a new job.” Audrey sat at Elizabeth’s desk, the chair twisted around so that it faced the bed. “When you’ve been through so much.”

She knew her grandmother was referring to Lucky and the tumultuous end to their relationship. Elizabeth sighed, sat on the edge of her bed, stared at the carpet. “I didn’t think it was a problem at first, Gram. You know, the state was making a mistake, or maybe I had something wrong. I just…I thought I’d call Sarah or Steven, and they’d tell me where Mom and Dad kept these kinds of things. I thought, at worst, I’d have to go to the storage place in Colorado and dig around. But then Sarah blew me off, and Steven hasn’t even bothered to call me back, not even to leave a message—”

She bit her lip, turned so that one leg was on the bed and she was looking at her grandmother again. “I know you don’t like Jason, and I’m not trying to change that. But Emily’s never had to do more than ask him for help, and he’s right there. No matter what it is. And Lucky resents his parents for reasons that aren’t…entirely wrong. But that doesn’t matter. They’d still show up for him. I know I have you, Gram, and I’m grateful—”

“But it’s not the same as having one of your siblings or your parents step up,” Audrey said, and Elizabeth nodded. “It isn’t. But their failures, Elizabeth, aren’t yours to carry. Family is about far more than merely blood. Take your Emily. She was adopted, you know that. Not at one or two years old, but as a child with memories of where she came from. As a whole person. The Quartermaines, for all their faults, opened their hearts to that little girl, and now I cannot imagine them without her. And nor could they. And Jason? He found it so difficult to connect with every person that was related to him by blood. But he’s made Emily his sister all over again.”

Elizabeth swiped at her eyes, impatient with the tears building. “Emily’s lucky—”

“She is. Your grandfather? Loved my Tommy all his life. Adopted him and made him a Hardy. You and your sister and your brother —” Audrey came to sit next to Elizabeth, reached for her hand. “Your father isn’t my blood, but that doesn’t matter. Family comes in all shapes and forms, my dear. Sometimes you’re fortunate enough that you don’t have to look further than your own home for that family. But families are made through choice and love every day of the week. Your siblings, your parents — they are poorer for not making that choice, Elizabeth.” Audrey swept Elizabeth’s hair behind her ear. “My life is far richer and more interesting because you are my family. And look at what Emily is doing for you. Because she loves you. And you’d do the same for her.”

“I would if I could.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, nodded. “You’re right. I know you are.”

“Up here maybe,” Audrey said, tapping Elizabeth’s temple lightly. Then she pressed two fingers against Elizabeth’s chest. “And one day your heart will catch up.” She hugged Elizabeth, kissing her cheek. “You and Emily, you go to Memphis, and you drag the information out of your brother. Or I’ll be on the next flight. You tell him that, Elizabeth.”

+26

Written in 67 minutes. Wanted to get the ending right.

Thursday, October 25, 2000

Jake’s: Bar

He almost missed her, sitting by herself at a table near the back of the bar, just before claustrophobic hallway leading to the two bathrooms, both of which were single stalls and had seen better decades. If not for the wait behind the bar while Jake handleda few customers who’d arrived just in front of him, he might have grabbed his beer and gone upstairs.

But he did have to wait, and stood at the bar, scanning the room more out of habit than any interest at what he might see. He wasn’t in the mood to be around people — which Jake’s was filled with this close to the weekend and after the second shift had finished at the warehouses that lined the docks.

And he saw her — sitting at the smallest table Jake’s had to offer, with a half-eaten order of fries pushed aside, and a half-drunk glass of what looked like soda, her arms folded on the table, leaning forward, looking at something he couldn’t see.

Different from the first time he’d met her at Jake’s — had it only been last year? She’d walked in the bar, and he’d seen her immediately of course, though it had taken a second look to recognize her as Emily’s best friend. His only interactions with her had been brief and she’d made so little eye contact, he couldn’t have said what color her eyes were.

That first night, she’d walked into Jake’s, looking for something, her restless energy radiating even as she went to the bar and ordered. Once Jason had noticed her, realized she was Emily’s friend, he’d watched her — he wouldn’t have cared if she’d been served alcohol, but he wouldn’t have let her drive home. He’d told himself just to keep an eye out on her, but he wasn’t going to ruin her night be drawing attention to himself. He’d linger over the game of pool or order another beer until she’d left.

He’d had no choice but to step in, but now, standing in nearly the same place over a year later, Jason let himself do something he rarely did — what would have happened if she’d never come that night or that asshole hadn’t tried to pick her up —

Would he have died that night in December?

He let the question unanswered in his head — after all, it wasn’t really useful to ask those kinds of questions. What was the point? Things happened the way they happened, and looking back — having regrets — it meant staying frozen in place. Never moving forward. You couldn’t change it, so why bother?

Jason took the beer Jake handed him, then wound through the light crowd towards her table. Any doubt that she’d come there to see him disappeared when she turned, and saw him. A smile spread across her features, a nervous one — one corner higher than the other.

“Hey.” He joined at her at the table, pulling out the chair that would put himself between her and the rest of the bar, but angled slightly so that he could still see someone coming towards them. “What’s up? Were you waiting long?” He frowned, tugged his cell phone from his pocket. “I didn’t miss a message, did I? Did something happen?”

“N-No.” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “No,” she repeated. “But that being your first question kind of makes me feel like I was right to come here. The other night, when you met me in the parking lot, you said that you used to go to Kelly’s. That’s usually how we saw each other. Kelly’s. Or the docks. By accident.” She cleared her throat, dropped her gaze to the plate, then picked up a fry, swirling it in ketchup but never lifting it to her mouth. “Emily said something similar today. About how we had to actually plan to see each other because I don’t work at Kelly’s, and she’s in college. We…our paths don’t cross, you know? So, like, if we’re friends, we have to work at it.” She winced slightly. “It made more sense in my head. Because maybe it’s weird for me to hang out in a bar waiting for you. I should have called—”

“No.” He lifted his hand, palm up, to halt her anxious ramble, not wanting her to talk herself out of whatever she was trying to do. “I get…I get it. We’re friends,” he echoed.

Elizabeth’s lips twitched again and she dropped the fry, picked up her drink. “Plus, in two weeks, I’ll actually be legal to be here, so it won’t be as weird. Anyway. I had lunch with Emily today, and it just really got me thinking — she spent half of it trying to make me feel better. About Lucky, about this birth certificate thing—it’s not important,” she added when he frowned. “I mean, it is, but it’s not the point. You came to see me on Tuesday because you were worried about me. After Luke’s. And I didn’t really…I didn’t do the same for you. Even though I know you were angry that night.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No, I don’t have to,” she interrupted, and he stopped, looked at her. “But a friend would. And I know…I know I do okay in that department. Most of the time. At least where Emily is concerned. It’s just…” Elizabeth paused, squinting slightly. “I usually do better at checking in with my friends,” she continued. “But I’m not that great at with you. And I think it’s your fault.”

Jason lifted his brow. “My fault?”

“That—sounded hostile. And it’s not meant to be. Fault suggests you’re wrong, I guess, and you’re not wrong. You just…” She stopped again, shifted in her chair. “You talked to me. In the beginning,” she added when he tilted his head, a little confused. “About Michael, mostly. But your accident, too. I felt like…we were friends. I’d vent to you, and you’d talk to me. But we…we stopped doing that. And at some point, it was just me. You…started to get really…” Elizabeth bit down on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. Squirrelly.”

“Squirrely,” he repeated. “I—What?”

“Last year. When you got hurt, and I wanted to help you. You…you never told me what happened. I figured it out,” she added when he sighed, looked away. “I’m not an idiot. But you didn’t talk about it. You don’t talk about it. Unless I…I guess, I force you. Or guilt you. Like I did that night after you and Lucky got into it here, and you told me you were looking for a fight, and I had to practically throw a tantrum to get you to tell me why.” She sighed. “And that sounds like I think I’m entitled to know what’s going on in your head, and I don’t want it to sound that way. You get to not talk to me. Or anyone. This isn’t coming out right—”

“No, I follow it.” And it wasn’t the first time he’d heard the criticism. “I just don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“Nothing, I guess. Because if I have to force stuff out of you, then we’re not really friends. And if I were like that, you’d start to avoid me. And I don’t want that,” she added. “I guess — Emily reminded me today that it’s really easy to be lazy with your friends. Especially the ones that matter. Because you and Emily — you’re the best friends I’ve ever had. I know that I can tell you anything, and that if I’m in trouble, you’ll both be there. I don’t take that for granted. I don’t take either of you for granted.” She bit her lip again, then continued. “So I guess I showed up here tonight because you waited for me on Tuesday, and I wanted to do the same, I think. To make sure you know how much I appreciate you. That it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about things or whatever, but that I’m here. For what it’s worth.”

He didn’t speak right away. Couldn’t. He dropped his gaze to the green bottle in his hands. He rolled it one way, then back the other. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t the same — that it wasn’t a problem to hang out in a parking lot for ten minutes so he could talk to her. She was giving it weight that it just didn’t have or that he hadn’t meant to put there—

But maybe that was the point she was trying to make. It didn’t have any weight. And it shouldn’t have been that important. But it had been to her.

When he finally looked up, met her eyes again, Jason still couldn’t find the words to respond. To articulate what her gesture meant to him. It didn’t seem like much — she’d sat in a  bar and had some fries. But it wasn’t something that anyone did for him. “You’re right,” he said finally, and she frowned, tipped her head, her brows arched in question.

“Last year. I didn’t tell you,” he said. “Talking about Michael…that was hard,” he admitted. “But I could do it. Because you…could understand that. And I understood it,” he added. “But what happened—” He shook his head, took a long pull from the bottle, feeling the slight burn of alcohol as it moved down his throat. “I couldn’t. You…” He hadn’t wanted to even mention Carly’s name in front of her. How could he say that without sounding stupid? Everyone knew his history with Carly, didn’t they? Emily’s best friend would. “I was embarrassed,” he said finally, finally naming the swirl of heat and twinge in his gut, the mixture rolling through him again.

He knew she wouldn’t laugh at him, or even make a joke, but still the warmth in her eyes surprised him. “Because I can only imagine people had…God I hate this word,” she muttered. “But I guess people had warned you,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “About Carly. And Sonny.”

“Yes,” Jason said finally. “For years,” he continued. Robin. Brenda. Every single member of the Quartermaines. “I don’t believe in mistakes. Or regrets.” he continued. “You…you do what you think is right with what you know, and you live with the consequences. You learn from them, you don’t make them again.” He’d watched Carly and Sonny destroy the people around them over and over again, and had somehow felt outside of it, as if it would never happen to him. The arrogance to think that he, alone, was exempt from their brand of selfishness. Or that the people they’d hurt had somehow been stupid or deserving of the pain that had been inflicted. “So I didn’t say it. Or talk about it.” He looked at her again. “And I don’t really want to do it now.”

“So we won’t. I didn’t want to force you,” Elizabeth repeated. “Or make you feel guilty. You always made me feel safe enough to say whatever I was thinking, and I guess I…I just want to do the same thing. I don’t know how to do it obviously,” she said with a sigh. “But you know, I’ll keep trying.”

“You’re doing fine,” Jason told her, and was rewarded with a smile.

“Thanks. I won’t bring any of that up again,” she told him. “I just want to say…that I know what it’s like to put someone up on—what’s the saying? On a pedestal, you know? Like — they can’t do any wrong. I did that, with Lucky. I watched him cut out his parents, and be cruel to his mother. I watched him hurt Emily and Nikolas—and I even knew how he’d treated me before. I knew what he was capable of,” Elizabeth said, “but when he did it to me — it still felt like—like someone had dumped cold water on me. Frozen to the bone. I thought he loved me. That I was safe,” she said. “And I wasn’t. It’s…” She ran finger along the edge of her glass. “It’s not easy to accept that I was wrong. That I wasn’t special, that our love wasn’t this eternal, perfect thing that could protect me forever. I was just like everyone else in his life.”

Her eyes filled, and she looked away. Jason’s throat was tight. He straightened, opened his mouth to say something, but she looked back, forced herself to smile. “It would be easy to blame myself, and maybe I can. I should. But you’re right. There’s no point in having regrets. It was a lesson I needed to learn, and I can only hope I’ve learned it, you know? That I won’t put myself in a position for him to hurt me again.”

“Yeah.” Jason released a low, slow breath, one that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. He met her eyes. “You trusted him. More than anyone else,” he said. “You thought he understood who you were. But he didn’t. He never did. He just saw what he wanted to. Someone he could control.” He cleared his throat. “I mean—”

“I know what you mean.” She smiled again, a more genuine one. “I took the bus because my grandmother needed the car. Maybe I could get a ride home.”

+29

Written in 41 minutes. Stopped a little early today  — I’m just so tired. See you tomorrow or Saturday!

Thursday, October 25, 2000

Chloe Morgan Designs: Offices

Emily popped the top from her salad container and slid it beneath the black plastic container. “I don’t like what being adults has turned us into,” she told Elizabeth. “We used to see each other every day.”

“Because you ate at the diner where I worked.” Elizabeth flicked through her notes, occasionally popping a grape in her mouth. “We have actual responsibilities now.”

“Right. Adults. I don’t like it.” Emily scooted her fork around the salad, compiling the perfect combination of spinach, tomato, onion, and carrot. “How’s this going? You still like it?”

Elizabeth scribbled a note beneath the itinerary. “I think so. I spent most of last night memorizing time zones because I’m making travel arrangements for next month—well, I’m planning them. Lottie’s going to approve them. Chloe’s going to Tokyo for some fabric thing—did you know it’s thirteen hours ahead of us?”

“It’s kind of like time travel, don’t you think?” Emily mused. “You get on a plane to London, it takes like eight hours, but it’s only like four hours later. Like you go back in time. Or forward. It’s a shame I couldn’t use that to get more time on homework.” She leaned over the desk, trying to read Elizabeth’s notes upside down. “Is it helping you with yours?”

“It’s not homework—” Elizabeth made a face. “Well, maybe it is. It’s my trial run — booking the flight, the hotel, transportation. I had to do it for a Paris trip, too. I should have paid more attention in high school. You wanna go with me to the mall after work? I think I need to get some language books. French and Italian to start with.”

“I never pass up a mall trip.” Emily speared a tomato. “Have you, uh, heard from anyone since Monday?”

“Other than Jason on Tuesday, no. And—” Elizabeth twirled her pen, considering her next words. “Lucky was waiting for me when I got home on Monday. We had another fight. You?”

“Nikolas is avoiding me. Was it a new fight or more of the same? I mean, you’re okay, right?” Emily furrowed her brows. “You’d tell me if it was a bad one?”

“Just words.” Elizabeth back in her chair. “Before—um, before you know, Valentine’s Day. Did you think I was selfish?”

Emily lifted her brows. “Is that a serious question? Or something Lucky said?”

“Both. I guess. And it’s not just Lucky. I—my parents used to say it to me,” she admitted. “And Sarah used to say it. Maybe it’s…” She bit her lip. “Maybe it’s why I was so upset. My family thinking it was one thing — and maybe I knew Lucky wasn’t my biggest fan. I guess I never let myself think about it. Most of the time I don’t even let myself think about before, but I’m trying to wrap my head around it. Lucky was irritated by me before. And then after, he was my best friend. My rock. He never looked at me twice until it happened.”

“I think,” Emily said carefully, “that you and I didn’t know each other well enough to have fully, fleshed out opinions. And other than my first day back at school, we didn’t run into each other much. I don’t know that I would have called you selfish,” she added. “But opportunistic.” She winced. “Does that sound harsh? I don’t mean it to—”

“No. It’s—it’s not that far off. I mean, I only helped you because I thought it would impress Lucky. Not that it did any good.” Elizabeth sighed, pushed aside her notes and reached for her lunch. “I’ve just been thinking about it lately. About when I moved here. And why I stayed. I could have gone to London that summer with Sarah, you know? And my  dad did say maybe I could finish high school there. I stayed to be with Gram, but also…I stayed to be with Lucky.”

“Do you regret it now?” Emily tipped her head to the side. “Do you wish you’d gone?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m glad you and I became friends, and that I got to know Jason,” Elizabeth added. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I didn’t go. But I guess — I almost didn’t take this job because of Lucky, too. I never  thought I’d be that girl, you know? I made my entire life about Lucky, and when he was gone, I was so lost. I wouldn’t have been if I’d had plans outside of him. If art school had been about me, and not us maybe I’d have gone to New York.”

“I get that. I mean, I was going to run away to be with Juan, remember?” Emily wrinkled her nose. “Talk about making dumbass choices to be with a boy. And you did take this job. It was the right choice, Liz. I know it sucks how things worked out with Lucky. Believe me, I was one of the people telling you to keep the faith, right? That you and Lucky were meant to be. I never thought he’d be like this. But it sort of tracks. You know? He makes pictures of people in his head, and when they don’t act the way he thinks they should, he cuts them out. He did to to his mom over Nikolas, and his dad. And now he’s doing it to you because he thinks you should give up everything, stay at Kelly’s forever so he has someone to eat fries with.”  She pointed her fork at Elizabeth. “Don’t let whatever he said the other night screw with your head.”

“Trying not to. But it might not matter if I can’t get my passport. I still haven’t heard from Steven or my parents. And I was on hold with the people in Colorado for like an hour this morning — they can’t find me with my middle name either. But Sarah? They found. No problem.”

“Steven still hasn’t called you back? What a jerk.” Emily dropped her fork. “It’s been a week. You told him how important it was, right?”

“I did. I don’t know what else to do. I was thinking maybe I could just start calling storage places. My parents might have got one when they closed up the house.  But would they even release that information?”

“No. No, you’re not going to waste even one more minute on that phone. Or waiting for someone to call you back.” Emily rummaged in her purse, pulled out a wallet. “Let’s put your new travel skills to rest. Here’s my credit card. Get us a flight to Memphis tomorrow.” She held it out but Elizabeth just stared at her. “I’m serious. Book us a hotel and transportation and everything. We’re gonna show up at your brother’s door and force him to talk to you. And if that doesn’t work, I’m gonna get Grandfather to call Washington—”

“Emily—”

“You ran around all summer trying to save me, the least I can do is get you this passport. And you know what, I’m gonna get Grandfather on it anyway. He’s been bored. But we’re going to Memphis so you can tell your brother what a jerk he is.” Emily waved the credit card again. “Take it and start booking. You know Chloe would let you go in a heartbeat to get this done.”

“Where is Chloe letting you go?” said the woman in question, emerging from her office. She saw Emily, smiled brightly. “Hey, sweetie. How are the classes?”

“A lot of reading, and Elizabeth and I are going to Memphis to track down her brother to get her birth certificate dealt with,” Emily told her. “He won’t call her back.”

“Are you still having trouble getting a valid copy?” Chloe asked, a slight scowl pulling at her features. “That doesn’t seem right. What do your parents say?”

“I…can’t get them on the phone either. They’re with Doctors Without Borders, and I think they’re there somewhere in Eastern Europe. I’ve left messages with their contact, but nothing yet. Chloe—”

“Go to Memphis. And Emily, we should think about getting Edward on this, don’t you think? He’s always looking for a good reason to complain to his senators. Especially with the election coming up.”

“I don’t want to bother anyone,” Elizabeth started to say, but Emily cut her off.

“It’s not a bother. We’ll stay over on Saturday, and do something fun. Maybe go to Graceland. You’ll see. We’ll get this all fixed this weekend. Book a flight for after my last class, I’m done at eleven.” She held out the credit card again. “Let me do this for you, Liz. It’s my turn to back you up.”

+26

Written in 62 minutes. This part is a little short. I know the big pieces of the story, but I haven’t thought out all the connective tissue between them if that makes sense, so some conversations take longer because I want to make sure I’m as close to Jason’s voice as possible, if that makes sense.

See you tomorrow.

Tuesday, October 23, 2000

Chloe Morgan Fashions: Chloe’s Office

“Tell Barbara I’ll call her later—” Chloe paused. “No, strike that. Tell her I’ll call her nine tomorrow morning—her time. And yes, I know that means I have to get up at three to do that,” she added before her assistant could do more than open her mouth.

Elizabeth jotted a note to herself to actual learn the time zones — she didn’t really know any international ones, and could only remember how American zones worked because she’d moved from one to the other.

“Oh, Elizabeth—” Chloe whirled back at the door, causing both Lotte and Elizabeth to nearly run into her. “I know this is short notice, but you can come to New York next week, right? The whole week. I’d need you there by Monday afternoon at the latest.”

“Yeah, no problem—” But Chloe had already heard the first word and dashed down the hall to her next meeting.

Elizabeth bit her lip, then looked at Lottie. “I have a question about New York—”

“I already fast-tracked a company card so you can book future travel, but I’ll handle the flight arrangements this time,” Lottie said, wincing as she sat behind her desk. “I can get you a car to the airport if you need it—”

“No, I—” Elizabeth stopped. “A company card?” she repeated.

“Mmmm. I handle the travel arrangements—the flights, the transportation, hotels — I put together some notes for February. You need to get that right,” Lottie said, her usually friendly face pinched. “Chloe’s planning a huge return launch and if she misses a single day in Paris or Milan because you didn’t understand the time differences—”

“She won’t. I’ll get it right. I promise,” Elizabeth added. “I can do that—”

“Really? Because you still haven’t applied for your passport. Chloe made it clear, didn’t she? The only way you can even try to do my job is if you’re at her side at every minute. You have to be able to travel to London in January. That’s—”

“It’s—I’m getting it handled. There’s just an issue with my birth—I’m handling it,” she said. Or she was damn well trying. She’d spent her lunch break trying to track someone down at the records office in Colorado, and then ten minutes leaving another message for Steven and her contact at Doctors Without Borders. “I won’t let you down.”

“Okay—”

“But I still had a question. About New York. And traveling. I—where do I stay? I mean—I know that’s probably a stupid question, but is there a specific hotel? Do I stay in the same one as Chloe? That can’t be right. Hers cost so much money—”

“Travel is part of the job, so it’s paid for. And of course you travel with Chloe. You stay in her suite.” Lottie flipped through some paperwork, only half paying attention. “Except in London. She has a house there for herself. I usually stay at the flight in Knightsbridge, I’m sure you’ll be there. And there’s an apartment in Chelsea—New York,” Lottie clarified. “That’s—thank you for thinking of it. I’ll add some notes about both places to the binder I’m leaving you.”

“Oh. I—” Elizabeth sat down at her desk, her mind whirling. She’d understood there’d be travel — of course, it had been the center of Lucky’s concerns — and her dreams. But the nuts and bolts of it — the idea that she’d be staying in New York and London residences—

“You look like you’re going to pass out. What’s wrong?”

“What? Oh.” Elizabeth blinked, focused on Lottie. “Nothing. It’s just—I was a waitress at Kelly’s last week and I lived over the diner. This is…”

“A different world,” Lottie finished. “Play your cards right, and Chloe will find a place for you when I get back to work. But screw this up, and I’ll make sure you never work in this industry again. I have just as many contacts as she does.”

Lottie’s advice — or threats, depending on how Elizabeth wanted to think about it — were still echoing in her head hours later as she trudged towards her car in the parking lot, her tote bag full of fabric samples, her arms bogged down with Lottie’s notes to study at home. She had a lot to do before she was on her own — and not nearly enough time to learn it all.

As she approached her car, she realized that someone was leaning against it — waiting for her. Night had already fallen, the only light source from dim street lamps, but Elizabeth would know him anywhere.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Elizabeth asked. “You didn’t call, did you?” She dumped her things on the hood of her car, started searching for her phone. “I was going to check when I got in the car—”

“No, Emily told me when you’d be done.” Jason straightened. “I mean, I called, but I didn’t leave a message.” He hesitated. “I didn’t really know what I’d say.”

Despite the way their last conversation had ended, her lips twitched. “Hi, it’s Jason. Call me back?” she offered, and he shook his head, but he was smiling, too. “No, I guess that would be too ordinary for you.”

“I used to just go to Kelly’s when I wanted to see you,” he told her, and she made a face. “Sorry. That’s—probably the last place you want to think about.”

“No. No, it’s—it was a good place for me. For a long time.” Elizabeth sighed when she realized the only call she had was the missed one from Jason. Nothing from her parents or brother. Or the state of Colorado. She tossed her phone back in her bag and looped it back over her shoulder, picking up the rest of her things. “I don’t mind thinking about it. I had a lot of  good memories there, and I miss it sometimes.” She unlocked her passenger door, dumped her things, then closed the door to turn back to him. “Especially when I think about how scary what I’m doing here is. Not your kind of scary,” she added when he looked skeptical. “But in a few weeks, Chloe’s entire professional life is going to depend on me, and I just realized how little I know about time zones. Like, what time is it in London right now?”

Jason furrowed his brow. “Well, it’s almost seven here, and it’s five hours. Until the end of the month when the clocks change. And then it’s four.”

“The—right.” Elizabeth let out a long breath. “You know, I didn’t know how to wait tables either and I figured it out. Eventually.” She folded her arms. “So…um, I guess you had something to wanted to talk to me about if you had to track me down.”

“I—” He scratched the edge of his eyebrow. “I didn’t really think about the car—I just—I used to pick you up at Kelly’s—”

“Gram is letting me use the car for now until I can save up for a down payment.” She bit her lip. “You could always just drop me back off at the car if—I mean—” She looked past him to his bike, parked a few spaces over. “It’s been a long day. I could use a break.”

Hangman’s Bridge

Elizabeth leaned over the stone edge of the bridge, closing her eyes. The air was chillier, and there was a bite now to the wind that swirled around this high up over the river. “It’s always so quiet here,” she murmured. She looked at Jason. “We don’t have to talk about last night. We were—it was a disaster from start to finish, and I’m sorry I bothered to go.” She paused. “I mean, I’m just—if that’s not what you wanted to talk about—”

“It—it is,” Jason said, then winced. “I just don’t…I know really know what to say. I don’t like the way I handled it,” he said finally. “With Sonny. I’m sorry you or Emily had to hear any of it.”

“And if we hadn’t?” she asked, turning so that she faced him, her hip pressing against the edge of the bridge. “It’s none of my business, I guess. I’m sorry…I’m sorry I made it weird by bringing up Carly. I, um—” She looked away when he looked at her sharply. Her cheeks heated. “It felt right in the moment, but later, I guess I realized I was sort of…putting myself on the same level, and I don’t—I know that I’m not—”

“You’re nothing like Carly,” he told her, and she dropped her gaze. “That’s not a comparison I’d ever make. She puts herself in the middle. You wouldn’t.”

“I—” Elizabeth lifted her gaze, bewildered. “Because I’m not—”

“But Sonny wanted to put you there.” Jason shifted, looked out over the distance, where the night met the horizon, melding into one. “He knows he was wrong, but he doesn’t admit that well. He’d rather turn the blame on someone else.”

“Okay, but—” That didn’t really explain anything, Elizabeth wanted to say, but stopped herself. “I guess I just don’t understand why Sonny—never mind. It really doesn’t matter—”

“You were right,” Jason told her, simply. “Sonny and I were making it personal. For whatever reasons, and all that matters is making this over. You and Emily deserve to make a clean break from all of it. The other two—” His face tightened. “I don’t really care, but I know you wouldn’t want them to take the weight.”

“I don’t. Our plan might not have a been a good one—or maybe the way we went about it — but all of us wanted the same thing. To make sure Emily couldn’t get in trouble for it. I just don’t know how we can do that anymore. I don’t know what to do. How to fix this. And maybe it’s not fair to expect you to know either—”

“You and my sister are in trouble,” Jason interrupted. “If Zander can tie any of this to you, even with rumor, that will follow you. I don’t care what people say about me. I made sure I don’t have to answer to anyone. But that’s not what you or Emily wants. I told you both — I wanted you to come to me when you couldn’t solve it on your own. Or even before you tried.”

“But I don’t want to cause problems with you or Sonny. I’m—It just feels selfish to expect you to drop everything and fix a problem you didn’t create—”

“Selfish,” Jason repeated. He shook his head. “You’re only in this problem because you’re standing with Emily. You’ve risked your life and your freedom to help her. You’ve done the same for me. When I didn’t deserve it,” he added. “Selfish is the last word I’d ever use to describe you.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she jerked her gaze away from him, staring hard at nothing in the distance. When she was sure she could speak without her voice breaking, she took a deep breath. “Okay. So we’ve cleared it all up. I don’t expect you or Sonny to give us details after this. I know it’s better when we don’t know.”

“It is—” Jason tipped his head. “Are you okay? What did I say?”

“N-nothing. Nothing,” she repeated. “It’s just—it’s been a long day,” Elizabeth said finally. “But we’re okay now. You and Sonny — you’ll handle this, and Emily and I are out of this. Right? Back to a need to know basis.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, as if unconvinced by her answer. But he wasn’t going to push her, and she was grateful for it. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your car.”

+26