Wish I was too dead to care
If indeed I cared at all
Never had a voice to protest
So you fed me shit to digest
I wish I had a reason
My flaws are open season
For this, I gave up trying
One good turn deserves my dying
– Bother, Stone Sour

---

Saturday, February 21, 2004

Courtland Street: Alley

“Falconieri.”

Dante stared at the back of the ambulance as his partner and best friend was lifted up into the vehicle. The doors closed, and they sped off, the sirens clamoring loudly as the world woke up around them.

“Falconieri. Dante!”

Dante turned and blinked at his commanding officer, Taggert, who had lifted his brows and begun to scowl. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well—I’m tired, too. We got an officer down, so tell me what the hell is going on. Why were you in this alley?”

Dante dragged a hand through his hair. “We got a report of a drug deal going down. Lucky and I decided to split up — I covered him, and he went down the alley—but I don’t—”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t—I looked away for a second—and then there were footsteps—someone was running—and the shots—” He looked at Taggert. “It happened fast. And the backup—it never showed.”

“There was no—” Taggert hissed, then stalked back to his car. “Dispatch, this is Unit 23, Lieutenant Taggert. What calls came from Courtland and Van Ess?”

There was a crackle, then a pause before the dispatcher came back on the line. “Dispatched a suspicious activity report. Unit 84 radioed in that they were in the area, then a Code 30—”

“Bullshit! Bullshit—” Dante lunged forward. “I called in a Code 8—”

“Check records again,” Taggert told the dispatch, then he put the radio back in. “Falconieri—”

“Bullshit,” Dante repeated, his eyes flashing. “I called for fucking backup, and no one came!”

“There’s no record—I checked before I came—”

“They’re fucking lying—” He stopped abruptly at the sound an engine. He scowled when Capelli emerged from the car and sauntered towards them. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“Taking up oxygen,” Taggert muttered. “Capelli, what the fuck you want? This isn’t your case—”

“Courtland Street, drugs—” Capelli shrugged. “Organized Crime—”

“No, drugs are Major Crime. You have gambling and smuggling. So turn your ass right around—”

“Shove it, Tag. Fuckin’ traitor.” Capelli sneered at him. “Everyone knows you’re a dirty cop, just like this baby piece of shit—”

“What the hell—”

“You gonna protect your new best friend’s bastard?” Capelli growled. “No wonder this asshole had the fast track—he’s related to all the fucking criminals—” He gestured at Dante. “How much is Corinthos paying you to keep him out of trouble?”

“What the fuck did you just say—” Dante launched forward, but Taggert held him back.

“Go to the hospital,” he ordered. Taggert turned his back on Capelli, shoved the officer back. “Falconieri, God damn it, head to the hospital, and get me a report on Spencer—”

“He’s in there because of you,” Capelli called over Taggert’s shoulder. “You’re a fucking dirty cop, and everyone knows it! He was just dumb enough to cover your ass—”

“What the hell—”

“Get out of here,” Taggert ordered, slapping at Dante’s chest. “Now!”

Dante’s chest was heaving, his nostrils flared, but he stalked back towards the paramedics and climbed into the ambulance, which roared off into the night.

“I bet you didn’t even talk to Morgan or Corinthos yet—”

“Why the hell—”

“Drugs on Courtland Street?” Capelli pushed. “It’s the fucking Escobars. How do you know Morgan and Corinthos weren’t here sending a message to them?”

“That is the dumbest shit I’ve heard—You’re pissed because you got your ass kicked over the Lansing case. I got the promotion, you didn’t. Suck it up, and go back to do your job. Drugs are Major Crimes. The Escobars have nothing to do with Morgan and Corinthos. You got the waterfront, asshole. The rest of Port Charles is mine.”

General Hospital: Emergency Room

When Luke and Laura rushed into the emergency room just after six that morning, they found Kelsey huddled in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her cheeks puffy, and her hair was disheveled. Next to her, Anna Devane was holding her hand and talking to her gently.

Luke ignored Scott Baldwin leaning against the emergency room desk, and led Laura over to their son’s girlfriend.

“We came as soon as could,” Laura said, sitting on the other side of Kelsey and engulfing the younger woman in a hug.

Kelsey hugged Laura back, then took a deep breath. She shoved her hair out of her face. “He’s in—” She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. “He’s in surgery—they had to take him right in because the bullet—”

She shook her head, and the tears started again.

“We don’t know very much yet,” Anna clarified.

Luke scowled and walked over to Scott. “Baldwin, what’re you doing here?”

“Officer injured in the line of duty,” Scott said, but his face was pale as he looked over at Kelsey again. “And I wanted to be here if Bobbie or Kelsey needed anything.” He hesitated. “The bullet perforated his lung, Spencer. They couldn’t wait to operate.”

“Shit.” Luke turned away from his nemesis and returned to the ladies. “Where’s Barbara?” he asked Anna.

“She went up to surgery with Lucky to observe. Monica is operating. She’s the best—” Anna pressed his lips together. “I’m so very sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“He’s a cop, that’s what happened,” Luke muttered as he put an arm around his wife’s shoulders, not liking the paleness of her skin. She had only just recovered from a traumatic breakdown, so it was up to him to stay strong. “Angel, why don’t we go call Lu and Nikolas? They’ll want to know.”

“Right.” Laura nodded. She closed her eyes, squared her shoulders, then opened them again. She took Kelsey’s hand. “You know how stubborn Lucky is, don’t you? He’s been through so much worse. He’s not going to let a little bullet get in his way.”

“I just—”  Kelsey inhaled sharply. “I want him to be okay. I just want—”

“I know, sweetheart. Should we call anyone for you? A friend? Family?”

On a shaky breath, Kelsey shoved her hair out of her eyes again. “I’m okay.”

“All right.” Laura squeezed her hand again, then offered Anna a tight smile before turning back to Luke. “Let’s go make those calls.”

When Luke and Laura had left the area, Scott returned to Kelsey and Anna. “Where’s Falconieri?” he asked roughly. “Do we have any leads?”

“Not as of yet, but Taggert pulled in Cruz, and we’re doing our best.” Anna’s tone was tight as she continued, “I’m having a manpower issue, Scott. We don’t have nearly as many detectives as we ought to. And the ones I do have are practically useless.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Scott muttered. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, okay—”

He glanced up as a doctor he recognized exited the elevator. “Drake, right? Were you in surgery?”

“Yeah, I was asked to bring you guys upstairs to the surgical waiting room. It’s going to be a while,” Patrick Drake offered.

“How’s the surgery going?” Anna asked as she got to her feet. “Has his condition changed?”

“He’s stable,” Patrick told them. “Right now. They were able to repair the damage to the lung, or at least most of it. The bullet hit the liver, too, so they’re making sure they’ve taken care of the internal bleeding.”

“But he’s stable,” Kelsey repeated as Luke and Laura rejoined them. Laura hugged Kelsey to her side. “That’s good.”

“Healthy, strong guy — yeah, for now, stable. But he’ll be in surgery for a while, so come on upstairs.”

As they followed Patrick to the elevators, Laura hung back to catch Anna’s arm. “My other children are on their way, but I want to know if you know anything about what happened.”

“Nothing yet,” Anna said with a sigh. “I should know something when the scene is wrapped up. I promise to keep you in the loop.” When Laura didn’t look convinced, Anna arched an eyebrow. “Do you think I won’t?”

“I don’t have a lot of faith in the PCPD,” Laura admitted.

“After what happened to you,” Anna said slowly, “neither do I. That’s part of the reason I was asked to come to Port Charles and take over.” She touched Laura’s arm. “Let’s go upstairs and wait for more news.”

PCPD: Squad Room

Taggert shoved the cuffed man into the interrogation room, secured him at the table, and jabbed a finger at him. “I’ll be back when your lawyer gets here—”

“Whatever,” the man muttered, but his eyes were jittery and he was practically vibrating. He knew he’d been caught—there was no mistaking the preliminary ballistics report. Or the gun he’d been tossing in the dumpster when Taggert and Cruz had located the bastard.

“Taggert—” Anna caught his arm as Taggert slammed the door closed. “You’ve made an arrest?”

“Yeah—” He dragged a hand over his face. “Not watertight yet, but this moron will roll, and ballistics should back us up with the final report. How’s Spencer?”

“In surgery.” Anna followed him to the desk. “The bullet hit the lung and the liver, so the surgery will take much longer to control the internal blooding.”

“Damn it—”

“But it was looking good by the time I left. They got the bullet out and I’ve already arranged for it to go to the lab.”

“If it’s not too damaged, it’ll match the rest of the report, and I’ll lock this asshole up.” Taggert made another note before handing over his notes. “I need to clean it up, but ballistics made a preliminary match to a robbery a while back. Santiago Escobar is already waiting trial on those charges.”

“Ah, so we know the gun belongs to him.” Anna crossed over to the interrogation room, folding her arms. “I’m not familiar with the Escobars. Are they a gang? Are they organized?”

“Organized is a strong description for that pack of morons,” Taggert said. “It’s mostly petty crime and drugs in the Courtland Street neighborhood. His lawyer will get here and beg for a deal.” Taggert’s mouth twisted. “I don’t think he meant to shoot a cop.”

“You think he got spooked—” Anna frowned at the preliminary report, which included Dante’s statement from the scene. “What’s this? Dante says he called for back up? Where was it?”

“That’s a damn good question,” Taggert muttered. “And I’m gonna find out.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“I’m sorry to mess up your morning,” Carly said as she passed by Cody at the door and flashed a regretful smile at Elizabeth, sipping tea on the sofa. “I wasn’t sure if you’d heard yet about Lucky.”

“Emily left me a message,” Elizabeth told her. She looked at Jason, who was frowning. “You were getting breakfast, and I didn’t get a chance to tell you. Lucky was shot while he was on patrol last night. He was in surgery when I checked last.”

“Yeah, he is still is. Mama went to the hospital. She’s been there since early this morning,” Carly sat down. “But then she came home and told me that there’s an investigation at the PCPD—and it involves Dante.”

“Dante?” Jason repeated. He sat next to Elizabeth. “What about him?”

“They were on patrol together—and I don’t know if we’re keeping tabs on Dante or not.” Carly twisted her fingers together. “Um, you know, since—”

“Since he’s probably Sonny’s biological son.” Jason exhaled slowly. “I haven’t really thought about him much. I mean, other than what happened because of the papers.”

“Right. We went into crisis mode because Sonny couldn’t handle it, and now we’re—well, I don’t know where we are on that either,” Carly said. “Mama said there might be something about him having issues. Uncle Luke said that he didn’t think Dante would be very popular with the rest of the department.”

“But he didn’t even know Sonny was his father, did he?” Elizabeth asked. “At least—”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know if this is something we need to pay attention to, I just know that we’ve had a weird relationship with the cops this last year,” Carly said to Jason. “With Lansing and the park case—”

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Jason promised.

“I’ll be right back,” Elizabeth told him. He frowned and started to rise, but she shook her head. “I’m fine. I just need to use the bathroom.”

“Things seem all right,” Carly said cautiously when Elizabeth had disappeared down the hall to the downstairs bathroom.

“Uh, yeah. Her oxygen level is back in the normal range,” Jason assured her.

“Oh, good. I was worried, but I didn’t really know how to ask.” Carly bit her lip. “I feel terrible that you’ve been shouldering so much of the Sonny situation since you came home. I didn’t want it this way, Jason—”

“There’s nothing that’s happened since we got back that you could have dealt with, Carly. It wasn’t the divorce that set him off, but the newspapers and some business issues.” Jason winced. “You haven’t even served him with the divorce or custody papers—”

“I told Alexis we’re not filing until after Elizabeth delivers the baby. I got the balling rolling, and Sonny knows it’s coming, but he’s going to hit the roof when he finds out about AJ.”

“Carly—”

“You’ve done so much in the last six months—longer,” she added. “The least I can do is slow this down. It doesn’t feel as urgent as it did before, not with Sonny in all the trouble he’s in right now.” She paused. “I’m also going down to the PCPD to see if he’ll agree to a psychiatric evaluation.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know, but I feel like I need to do something.” Carly got to her feet as Elizabeth returned. “Hey, Jason said your levels were back to normal. That’s great news.”

Surprised, Elizabeth looked at Jason, who winced. “Oh, yeah. It’s definitely a step in the right direction, but I’m going to be checking into the hospital around March 6 to induce labor.” She rested her hand on her belly. “It’s not as long as I hoped for, but we all agreed that it’s a good compromise.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Carly touched Jason’s shoulder. “I’ll let you know how things go with Sonny.”

“You really don’t have to do this—” Jason followed Carly to the door. “I don’t think he’s going to listen—”

“But at least we’ll be able to say we tried everything, Jason.” Carly turned back to him, opening the door and standing on the threshold. “We need to do something. I’m afraid the next person he hurts might be himself. Or someone who can’t punch back, you know?”

“We’ll take care of it,” Jason promised her. He nodded to Cody, who had arrived on duty during Carly’s visit. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” Carly promised.

He closed the door behind her and looked back at Elizabeth. “I’m sorry—I told her that your levels—”

“It’s fine,” Elizabeth said. She crossed to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “She’s your best friend, Jason. You can tell her anything you want about all of this. None of this has been easy, and I’m glad I’ve had Emily to talk to. I know you have her, too, but Carly’s yours. You deserve someone who’s just there for you.”

“Carly likes you,” Jason said, furrowing her brow.

Elizabeth laughed. “Like is a strong word. We respect and accept each other. That’s enough for me.” She kissed him lightly. “I’m gonna go leave Bobbie a message in case she needs anything.”

General Hospital: Vending Machines

Lulu screwed up her face at the row of vending machines. She didn’t want anything, but she also didn’t want to keep sitting in the waiting room, hoping that Lucky would be out of surgery.

How many times was a girl supposed to worry that her brother was going to die? Why did this dink have to go into law enforcement?

“Lu.”

She turned, startled, to find Dante just around the corner. His hair was disheveled with shadowed eyes, and his uniform shirt rumpled. “Dante!” She rushed forward and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. “I’ve been so worried!”

He hugged her back, dropping his head into the crook of her neck for a moment before clearing this throat and stepping back. “I came to check on Lucky. Is he—”

“Still in surgery—” Lulu swiped at her eyes. “Um, the doctor said it was looking good, but Mom’s all worried, and Dad’s tense because he’s worried about Mom, and you know, one time Lucky actually died, so they’re a little sensitive—” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble. We don’t know anything yet. Not for sure. And we need to be sure. Mom needs it. I’m still babbling on, and you’re upset, too, I know you are—”

“It’s okay.” He smoothed his hands down her arms, from her shoulders to her elbows, then back. “I’m sorry. This is my fault—”

“What? Why?” Lulu frowned. “No. You were his partner, and, oh God, it could be you up there, and that wouldn’t be better—” Her throat tightened at that. “You did your job, and this is part of the package, I know that—”

“No, I mean—” Dante hissed and looked away. “The guy got away because we didn’t have backup. That’s where I’ve been—”

“What are you talking about—”

“I called before we went into that alley—” His fingers tightened around her shoulders, his eyes burning with anguished misery and fury. “But no one ever came, and dispatch said I never called—”

“I don’t understand—”

“The two units nearby—they were a fucking block away—they could have caught the asshole dead to rights with the gun still on him—” Dante paused. “They’re Capelli’s guys. From his unit.”

“Capelli? The guy who screwed up the kidnapping and nearly got Elizabeth killed? What does—”

“He thinks I’m a dirty cop.” Dante released her. “They all do—”

“No, that’s not possible. Dante—”

“They think I snitched on Vinnie and that I’m working for Sonny—”

“But—” Lulu closed her mouth. “You’re saying they ignored the call. That they left you and my brother out to dry.”

“Lucky might die, and it’s my fault.”

PCPD: Interrogation Room

Carly paced the room as she waited for Sonny to be brought in. She’d felt so sure that this was the right decision a few hours ago with Jason. Jason had nearly missed a crisis in his own family because he was busy cleaning up after Sonny.

Carly couldn’t do much to help with the business—and she didn’t really want to—but there had to be something she could do to take some of the weight from Jason. She owed him this much.

“You have ten minutes,” the guard said as he pushed open the door, almost shoving Sonny through.

“What do you want?” Sonny demanded. Carly looked back nervously at the door. They hadn’t cuffed Sonny to the table—and she’d thought they’d stay with her—

She hadn’t anticipated being left alone with him.

“I wanted to check on you,” Carly said finally, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the sullen cast to his skin, and the greasy, messy curls that spilled over his forehead. She hated seeing him like this—hated knowing how much he was suffering.

“To wallow in victory?” Sonny sneered. He stalked around the room, then seemed to focus on something just past Carly. “That’s right. That’s all she’s good for.”

Carly frowned. “Sonny—”

He snapped back to meet her eyes. “What? What’s the point?”

“I know Justus quit,” Carly said gently, “but Jason convinced him to stay on for a little longer to help. He’s trying to get you bail—”

“He should try harder—”

“You were arrested for assaulting the mayor, Sonny. That’s really bad—”

“He got in my way!” Sonny whirled around, stabbing a finger at her. Carly forced herself not to take a step back. “I wanted to choke that bitch—”

“Sonny, they’re recording,” Carly hissed. “You can’t say things like that—”

“You knew, didn’t you?” Sonny demanded. “That’s why Alexis is your lawyer. You blackmailed her—”

“I didn’t know for sure,” Carly admitted, hoping that some honesty would get her somewhere. “When I told you before Kristina was born that Alexis was pregnant and that you might be the father—I told you what I knew. You went to see Alexis and came back satisfied that it wasn’t your baby.” She shrugged, hoping it looked casual and not tense. “I just never really believed it. I figured I’d done what I was supposed to do and let it go.”

“Until you needed something.”

“Yes.” Carly swallowed hard. “I needed a lawyer who wouldn’t be scared of you, Sonny, and one that would be invested in fighting hard for my boys—”

“You’re stealing my boys from me just like she stole my daughter!” Sonny roared. “Just like that other bitch stole my son—”

“I don’t want it this way, Sonny—”

“Then don’t do it. Go home to the penthouse and make the boys safe—” Sonny lunged at her suddenly, and Carly stumbled back, hitting the door jamb. “I wasn’t—” He stared at her, stunned. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“I—” Her hands were trembling. “I don’t know that, Sonny. After that night—you locked me in that penthouse—”

“That was months ago—”

“It was barely two months ago, Sonny, and you—” Carly closed her eyes. “I can’t keep going over this, Sonny. I can’t—”

“I told you I was sorry!” Sonny said. He dragged his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I say it all the time, but no one believes me. It’s never enough. Won’t ever be enough. The blood. Always on my hands—”

“Sonny—”

When he turned back, some of the manic anger had faded from his eyes. “I’m sorry for it. I wanted you to be safe, but you wouldn’t do what I needed—”

“And you weren’t doing what I needed,” Carly said gently, “so that’s why I left. But you still matter to me, Sonny, and I can’t stand seeing you in here. It’s making everything worse—”

“Then get me out!”

“I can’t without your help!” Carly stepped towards him. “The judge will let you out if you just get the evaluation—”

“I’m not fucking crazy!” Sonny roared. He slapped a hand against his chest. “I’m Sonny fucking Corinthos! This is my town! My family! No one is taking it from me—”

“What is all this yelling—” Anna stopped in the door, a scowl etched into her expression as she took in the scene before turning back to the squad room. “Where are the guards who brought him from lockup?” She turned back to Carly and Sonny. “Why aren’t you cuffed to the table?” she demanded.

“I was leaving anyway,” Carly said, folding her arms. “Maybe the guard who brought him up just forgot. It’s fine. It’s all fine.” She looked over at Sonny again, but his eyes were just burning with fury. “I’ve got nothing left to say to him.”

PCPD: Dispatch Center

The moment Taggert pushed open the double doors to the Dispatch Center, he knew that something wasn’t right. The volume dimmed, and there were some awkward stares.

He gritted his teeth, then stepped up to the counter. A tall, lanky young man stepped out from behind a cubicle. He pushed a pair of wire rim glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Lieutenant, what can I do for you?”

“I need a record of calls from Unit 84 and any other units within a mile radius for the third watch. I got some of that verbally this morning, but I need something more for my report,” Taggert said, watching the man’s eyes carefully. He dipped his eyes to the uniform shirt. “How fast can you get me that, Officer Murphy?”

Murphy slid his eyes to a man standing a few feet away. Likely the supervisor on this shift, Taggert noted. And the officer was unsure about answering questions.

“Uh, it shouldn’t take too long, I think.” Murphy stepped over to the computer, tapped a few buttons. “I can print you a copy of the electronic records now, and if you want—”

“We’re going to need the physical calls for the record,” Taggert interrupted. “We’ve made an arrest, and we want to make sure the timeline sticks.”

“Right, right. That’ll take a few more days, but here’s the list—” He set down a printout. “Not much action. There’s a call, dispatching Unit 84 to the alley, then a reply from Unit 84 registering the call. They called in again on arrival — a 10-97. And then Officer Spencer called in the shooting—”

“You’re sure that’s a 10-97?” Taggert said, pointing. “My guys say it should have been a Code 8 for back up.”

“If it had been a Code 8, there’d be an all-call.” Murphy slid the copy over. “There’s none. And we had a few units in the area—”

“I’ll take it from here,” the supervisor said, ambling over. Murphy grimaced. “You have a problem with our records?”

“No,” Taggert drawled, “just checking all the boxes. We’ll know for sure when we get the tapes of the calls, won’t we?” He folded the print out. “I’ll take print outs for all the units now. Unless that’s an issue?”

“No,” the supervisor said, smiling thinly. “Let me get right on that. Cops gotta stick together, don’t we?”

“You’d think,” Taggert muttered, but beneath his breath as the supervisor went over to the printer. Dante wasn’t crazy. He’d called for backup, and now Dispatch was pretending he hadn’t.

First, he needed to nail Santiago Escobar to the wall. Then he’d turn his attention to finding out what the hell was going on in his department.

General Hospital: Bathroom

Kelsey splashed some water on her face, then stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying, her hair disheveled from running her fingers through it so many times—

Her eyes felt like sandpaper, but every time she tried to close her eyes, she heard the phone ringing again. She heard Scott’s voice—

She cupped her hands under the cold water once again, then splashed herself again. Lucky was in surgery, but things looked okay. She just had to keep remembering that.

He would be okay. He would wake up and everything would be okay—

She reached into her jeans and tugged out her cell phone. The hospital had terrible reception in most areas to discourage the use, but she just—

She wanted to hear her mother’s voice. Someone who belonged just to her.

“Kelsey?” Angela Joyce’s voice crackled over the terrible connection.

“Mom—” Kelsey swallowed a sob. “Mom, can you hear me?”

“Baby, you’re breaking up—are you crying? What’s going on?”

“Mom. I’m okay. I—Lucky was shot.”

“Oh—sweetheart. I’m so sorry. Will he be all right?”

“They think so, but he’s still in surgery.” With one hand clutching at the phone, the other in her hair, Kelsey squeezed her eyes shut. “Mom, I need you.”

There was such a long silence that Kelsey worried the connection had been broken. “Mom?”

“I heard you. Sweetheart, you know how I feel—”

“Mom—”

“You said he’d be all right, didn’t you?”

“I know—”

“When he’s feeling better, you can both come to Buffalo and maybe spend a few days.”

Kelsey pulled the phone away, staring at it as if that would change the conversation. “Mom, can’t you come to the hospital?”

“Oh, Port Charles is so far away—”

Two and a half hours. A long drive, but—

“Mom, I need you—” Her voice cracked and she slid down. “I know Port Charles is hard for you because of Daddy, but you’ve been here before. You came when I got hurt—”

“Kelsey. Please. Don’t make this harder for me.”

“Harder for you?” She bit out. “Never mind. Just never mind.” She snapped the phone shut and nearly threw it across the room. She stopped at the last minute, then let her head fall back against the cool bathroom tile.

She just needed a minute. Just a minute. She’d get herself back together and go back to his family.

But was it so much to ask for someone to take care of her for one single minute?

Port Charles Police Department: Commissioner’s Office

 

By the time night fell, Taggert felt like he had been awake for a decade. He set the plea deal down in front of Anna. “Escobar got spooked and shot wildly before taking off. Didn’t even know they were cops.””

He looked behind him as Ned strode him. “You here about the arrest?”

Ned sat down and took the report Anna offered him. ” Yeah. Pretty quick turn around. Less than twenty-four hours.”

“Wasn’t a difficult case. The Escobars are a small time group of idiots who wouldn’t mind taking on more territory,” Taggert told him. “The guy we think is in charge is Mateo Escobar — he owns a strip club. He used to run drugs under Frank Smith, then Moreno and Sorel.”

“But not Sonny and Jason?”

“No, they’ve mostly stuck to the waterfront. When Corinthos took over, he brought in  connections from Puerto Rico.” Taggert wrinkled his nose. “And he doesn’t run drugs himself. Not that we’ve been able to prove anyway.”

“Honor among thieves,” Anna said with a sniff. “Keeps his reputation respectable.”

“What’s the evidence?” Ned asked as he skimmed the report. “Are we going to be able to assure the media that it’s a solid case?”

“Casings matched a liquor store robbery last summer. Escobar was waiting on a trial,” Taggert said. “It’s been in limbo because some of the witnesses at the store haven’t really been much help—” he exhaled. “Esposito handled that case.”

Ned tensed, then forced himself to relax. “As I remember, he wasn’t so good at witness statements,” he said, doing an admirable job of pretending they weren’t discussing the man that had raped Ned’s daughter and driven her to suicide.

“No, but after the report came back, we went to track down Escobar. He didn’t know he’d shot a cop, so once he realized it—” He shook his head. “We caught him tossing the gun in the dumpster. His lawyer couldn’t wait to make a deal. One of the new ADAs is waiting for Scott to sign off.”

“Wait, what’s this notation?” Ned asked. “Dante’s statement—he called for backup but it never showed?”

“Yeah, we need to talk about that,” Taggert said finally. “Dante says he made the call. Dispatch records don’t back that up. At least not the electronic ones.”

“That doesn’t—” Ned closed his mouth. “Why would they say that? Dante wouldn’t make that kind of a mistake.”

“Taggert?” Anna asked. “What do you mean the electronic records don’t back it up? Do you have a serious reason to suspect differently?”

Taggert handed her a copy of the records he’d pulled earlier. “That 10-97 isn’t in Falconieri’s report. He was on the radio, not Spencer. They got to the alley and immediately called for back up.”

“10-97?” Ned questioned. “What’s the difference?”

“Officer on scene. It’s just to keep dispatch in the loop, but they wouldn’t send additional cars,” Anna murmured. “Is Dante quite sure?”

“I wasn’t convinced at first,” Taggert admitted. “I thought I’d look into it, and the 10-97 did make me pause. Maybe Dante remembered it as back up but used the wrong code. It’s possible, I guess. But the supervisor was acting pretty shifty, and isn’t giving a time frame on when I can get the calls.”

“But why?” Ned demanded. “Why refuse to acknowledge backup? Why the hell would they—”

“Because it was Dante,” Anna murmured. She tipped her head. “And I wonder if Lucky’s history played into it as well.”

“That’s my guess,” Taggert said. “Falconieri and Spencer. They both got family ties that make some of the other cops nervous. Turns out there’s a few guys who remember Luke Spencer and his, uh, connections to Corinthos. When you put him together with the gossip about Dante—”

“They deliberately left two rookie officers without backup because of their fathers?” Ned demanded.

“They don’t mind Spencer much,” Taggert continued, “but he’s not all that popular either after he went after a cop—”

“Jesus Christ, they’re holding the Esposito case against them? Lucky for breaking the case open and Dante for testifying—” Ned’s eyes bulged. “How is that—” He took a deep breath. “Can we prove it?”

“I’m working on it. I don’t think it started at dispatch. I think it went the way it was supposed to,” Taggert said. “Dante called for backup and the all-call went out. Capelli was with a unit a few blocks away on a stake out.”

“Capelli,” Ned muttered, tilting his eyes to the ceiling. “Of course.”

“If he ignores the call, that’s a big deal. Maybe he didn’t think it was serious. Maybe he didn’t think there’d be a shooting. I don’t know. I just—” Taggert looked at Anna. “He showed up at the scene, even though he didn’t have a reason. It’s not a Organized Crime case. But he came anyway.”

Anna grimaced. “I know we’ve been having issues with Capelli, but this would be a new low—”

“Major Crimes has gotten nothing but shit from the other departments since everything went down,” Taggert interrupted. “I got a lot of flack for how closely I worked with Morgan on the Lansing and Esposito cases. I didn’t have a choice,” he reminded Anna. “Elizabeth was the star witness in both—and she’s a package deal. If I don’t play nice with Morgan, we’d be out in the cold—Baker might not have opened up and, then we’re not back in time—”

“No one is saying—” Anna sighed. “No one in this office—” They both paused as someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”

Dante stepped over the threshold, blinking at the mayor and Taggert. “Uh, I can come back—”

“No, no. Come in—”

“This won’t take long.”

Taggert frowned as Dante stepped forward, walking towards Anna’s desk. He reached into his holster and set his sidearm on the desk. “What the hell are you—”

“Dante, this isn’t—”

Dante ignored them both and unpinned his badge. He stared at it for a long moment, then set it down next to the gun. Then he raised his eyes to look at Anna. “My partner and best friend is in the hospital because of who my father is—”

“Dante—”

“The department doesn’t trust me to have their back, and now I can’t trust them to have mine. I’m sorry—”

“Dante—”

“I can’t do this anymore.” He looked at Taggert. “We tried, but there’s no point. It’s just rotten from the inside out, and it’s not worth losing my life over.”

“Listen—” Ned took Dante by the arm. “We’ll prove the dispatch records are falsified—Lucky will wake up—”

“And then the next time I call for backup?” Dante asked. He shook his head. “If it were just mine—maybe. But this time, it was Lucky. Next time it might be Cruz or you,” he said to Taggert. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” Dante left then, closing the door quietly behind him.

Ned turned back to Anna and Taggert. “We are going to get him back, and we are going to rip the fucking rotting heart out of this department for good.”

Where’d you wanna go?
How much you wanna risk?
I’m not lookin’ for somebody
With some superhuman gifts
Some superhero
Some fairy-tale bliss
Just something I can turn to
Somebody I can kiss
I want something just like this
– Something Just This, Coldplay and The Chainsmokers

---

Friday, February 20, 2004

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jason wanted to take them back. Elizabeth just stared at him, her eyes wide with stunned hurt. He hadn’t wanted to snap—hadn’t meant to say anything to her just yet. He’d only come home because he’d felt guilty about the stairs and not returning her messages.

That didn’t mean he was ready to talk about any of this.

“I told you I didn’t want to talk about it,” Jason said. “So let me take you upstairs so I can get work done—”

“I just—”

“You might be ready to talk about it, but I’m not. Not that it matters to you. Nothing does, does it?” he continued, more ruthlessly than he’d meant to, but he was so damn tired, and he did not want to do this. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. What difference was it going to make if he told her he understood why she’d lied?

It wouldn’t change anything.

“I don’t—” Her voice faltered, and she stepped back. “I’m sorry. Okay. Okay. I’ll—I’ll go upstairs—”

“Hold on,” Justus said, putting out a hand and stepping between them. “Stay right there, Elizabeth. Give me a second—”

“It’s fine. You have more important—”

Jason closed his eyes in frustration. “That’s not what I meant—”

“You—” Justus put a hand on Jason’s shoulder and stabbed a finger at him. “Stop talking right now. Moron.”

“Justus, it’s okay—” Elizabeth began.

“It’s not,” he told her. He glared at Jason. “You dragged me over here to talk about things that can wait. I’m not your goddamn shield or cover, I’m your lawyer.”

“That’s not—” Jason grimaced. That’s exactly why Justus was there. “Look—”

“No, you look. You have given her exactly eight seconds to explain what the hell is going on, and you and I both know she deserves more than that. Especially since the only reason she lied was because she walked in on Sonny trying to choke me.” Justus released Jason’s shoulder almost with a shove.

“I still shouldn’t have,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I’m sorry—”

“I know why you did it—that’s not why I’m—” Jason closed his eyes. “That’s not why I’m angry.” He exhaled slowly and met Justus’s irritated gaze. “Go home. I’ll take care of this.”

“Really? You’re not going to scream at her again about wanting to die? Because I’ll kick the shit out of you—”

“I didn’t mean that,” Jason said. He focused on Elizabeth, who was staring at the floor. “I didn’t—”

“Good night,” Justus told them. “Don’t call me before nine. I’m going home to my girls.”

He slammed the door behind him. Jason dragged a hand over his face, turning to look back at the doorway. As his gaze returned to Elizabeth, his eyes swept over the desk, and he caught sight of the frame on the desk.

He walked over to it, then looked at the shelf next to the door, then back at the photo—with its one remaining jagged shard of glass.

“It fell last night,” Elizabeth said. She hadn’t moved from the other side of the room, standing in front of the sofa, her arms still protectively wrapped around her middle. “It’s okay. Cody said he’d go out and get me a new frame tomorrow. I just forgot about it today.” She cleared her throat. “Monica came by earlier and checked my levels. They’re at 95. Um, normal, I mean.”

Wordlessly, Jason removed the photo from the broken frame and set it back on the desk, leaving the photo in his hands. “That’s good.”

“We still have the portable oximeter if you want to check for yourself.”

“I don’t need to do that.” He looked up, met her eyes. The six feet that separated them might as well be an ocean. “I said I wasn’t angry you lied. I know why you did it.”

“I still shouldn’t have. You have enough to worry about, you know, and I shouldn’t make things worse.” She bit at her thumbnail. “Um, I guess I’ll go upstairs. So you can get back to work.”

He nearly let her go. She had already put her foot on the bottom step before he spoke again. “Now I’m the one lying.”

Elizabeth blinked, looked back at him, one hand propped on the banister. “What?”

“I am angry.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Okay. Well, I deserve that—”

“It’s just not the reason I left last night.” He stared down at the photo. Had it only been three weeks ago?

He’d lived a lifetime in those three weeks.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Jason said. He put the photo down and turned fully towards her. “I can’t tiptoe around any of this and not say the things I want to say because I don’t want to hurt you.”

Elizabeth said nothing, only rested a hand protectively over her belly. “I never asked you to do that.”

“No, but you made it clear that you weren’t going to change your mind, which isn’t that different, is it?”

“No. I guess it isn’t when you put it that way.” She stepped off the stair and turned fully towards him. “All right. So what haven’t you said to me?”

Kelly’s: Dante’s Room

Lulu knocked on the slightly open door, lifting her brows as she caught Dante pulling on his uniform shirt over an undershirt. “Don’t you have a locker room for that?”

“I wanted to get in and get out. Easier if I’m already suited up,” Dante said, turning towards her as he buttoned the shirt.

“Are things that bad?” She leaned against the door jamb. Dante didn’t answer her, and she wrinkled her nose. “I can go away if you want—”

“No, it’s not—” He went over to the closet and pulled down a lockbox with his clutch piece and main sidearm. “It’s not you, Lu.”

“I don’t want to poke and prod. I’m just—I don’t know.” She sighed. “I’m worried. You’re staying here, so you don’t have Cruz with you. You’re alone—”

“I’m fine—”

“Are you, though—” Lulu stepped in front of him, and Dante was finally forced to meet her eyes. “You don’t have to answer me on that either, I mean. I just—” She rolled her eyes. “God, this is so high school. Look, let me be blunt, okay?”

“Do you have any other mode?” he asked dryly.

“Apparently, I do, but—” She scowled. “I care about you. I know you’re not an idiot. You’ve checked out my ass, I’ve seen you do it—”

“Lu—”

“And your ass is good, too.”

“Why do conversations with you never go the way I expect them to?” he wondered but found himself smiling for the first time in forty-eight hours.

“Part of my charm. I bring up the mutual ass admiring to point out that if all I wanted to do was bite your ass—”

“That’s interesting—”

“I could have had you weeks ago.”

He wanted to deny it just to be contrary, but she wasn’t entirely wrong. Dante folded his arms. “Is that you suggesting it now?” he asked. “Because I have to be on duty in twenty minutes. I mean, I can be creative, but—”

Lulu gripped the sides of his shirt and dragged his head down, fastening her mouth over his, scattering his brain, his attention, and practically every cell in his body. He wrapped his arms around her, dragging her closer. They stumbled back, and he had a fleeting thought about tugging her onto the bed—but then Lulu stepped back, breathing hard. “I wasn’t going to do that.”

“I’m not complaining,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the side of her mouth.

“Don’t distract me—hey, watch the hands—” Lulu took another step back. “I’m sorry. You said you could be creative, and I lost my mind.” She cleared her throat. “Um, anyway. What I wanted to say was that I care about you, and it’s not just because I want to jump you. I mean, I want that, too, and we should definitely see each other naked.”

“Lulu—”

“I just—I needed you to know that, okay? That I care about you. And I want you to be okay. It matters to me. So if me not bringing any of this up is what you need, I can do that. Talking about it—I can do that, too. Whatever works.”

Overwhelmed, undone, Dante stepped towards her and put his hands on her shoulders, then leaned his forehead against hers. “I know. You’ve been doing that for months, Lu. Thank you.”

“Okay.”

“Things at work—they’re not great,” he admitted. “I had the one shift yesterday, and it was awkward. My patrol partner called out sick tonight.” His lips flattened into an unhappy line. “Suddenly has the flu.”

Lulu frowned. “But—”

“Lucky’s covering for him, but I don’t know if I can be a cop and stay in Port Charles,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I can be a cop anywhere. Not with this hanging over my head.”

She sighed, dropping her head against his chest. “Well, you’re an amazing cop, so that would be our loss. The world’s loss, really. I’m sorry, Dante. This sucks.”

“Yeah. It does.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her again. “But thanks for listening. I need to get to work.”

“I do, too. I’m on break, but Penny’s still salty about the long one I took the other day.” She laced her fingers through his as they went towards his door. “You should take me to a movie on your next day off, and then we can come back here and see each other naked.” She twirled at the doorway just as he winced. “And yes, the movie is required.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he muttered but grinned as he followed her out the door.

Lucky & Kelsey’s Apartment: Living Room

“I thought you were off tonight,” Kelsey said as she watched Lucky pack his duffel bag. “What happened?”

“Dante’s partner is out with the flu,” Lucky said. He wrinkled his nose. “I’m sorry. I know we had plans.”

“Ugh, I hate the flu,” Kelsey muttered. She dumped her bag on the table. “Where are you assigned tonight?”

“Dante and I have the Courtland Street beat, so you know, should be quiet.” He offered her another grin, but Kelsey just frowned at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?” Lucky reached for his coat and put it on. “Nothing—”

“I know your face, Spencer.” She stopped him from zipping up. “What’s wrong?”

Lucky exhaled slowly, then rested his forehead against hers. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” he murmured.

“No. You can take five minutes to talk to me. You had dinner with your mom. She’s going back to work, isn’t she?”

“It’s not—it’s nothing really. Mom was excited about starting at GH, but we were talking about Carly and Elizabeth—and that led to Sonny, which just leads back to Dante.”

“Oh.” Kelsey stepped back. “Is his partner actually out sick?” she asked. “Or is it the blue flu?”

“I don’t know,” Lucky admitted. “Dante already had problems after he testified, but it was starting to fade away. He’s had some looks, there have been some snickers. But this was the first sign that maybe things aren’t okay.”

“He’s a good cop,” Kelsey said. “I know that doesn’t always mean anything to the rest of those morons, but you and Cruz—you have his back. What about Taggert?”

“Taggert and Anna are on board, but there’s a lot of resentment after all the crap that happened last summer. Cruz got all that press for the kidnapping case, then me and Dante with the Vinnie case—Taggert’s not all that popular these days. They think he’s in Sonny’s pocket.” He zipped up his jacket. “I keep waiting for things to change,” he told her. “But it’s still the same department that railroaded my mom into a breakdown.”

“I’m sorry,” Kelsey murmured. “I wish we could fix it by just keeping our heads down and doing the job, but it feels like we never get a break.”

“Yeah, well, when Dante lost his patrol partner, I figured—he needs someone to have his back out there.”

“He couldn’t ask for better.” She leaned up her toes to kiss him. “I love you. See you tomorrow.”

“Love you, too.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason led her over to the sofa. “Sit down. You’ve—I know you’ve had to use the stairs and I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for—”

He sat next to her, but still kept a bit of distance from her, staring away from her, towards the coffee table. She felt so cold. He was here. He was listening.

But he wasn’t really here. Was it too late?

“When you first got pregnant, I knew you were going to have the baby the minute you got even a hint that you could,” Jason began and she tensed. “But I—” He met her eyes. “I wanted you to have an abortion. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

“You—” She fisted her hands in her lap.

“I wanted the baby. I want him even more now. Cameron,” he said, and part of her eased hearing their son’s name. “Please don’t think that I don’t love him, and that I didn’t want him.”

“I-I don’t—”

“Part of you has thought it for months,” he said gently, and she closed her eyes, nodding. “Because I brought it up first. I made it part of the conversation.”

“I don’t blame you for it—”

“But you also haven’t forgiven me for it, either. I know that. Every step of the way, when you’ve had a health issue with this pregnancy, you’ve worried that I’ll do something that puts the baby at risk because he doesn’t matter to me—”

“No—no!” She shook her head. “No, that’s not it. Please. No, I promise you—” Elizabeth reached for his hands. “I promise you that I never once thought that. I’ve always understood where you stand on this. Jason—I was terrified when Monica told me I was pregnant because part of me immediately assumed that it wasn’t possible. And even when it was—” She cleared her throat. “I thought about it, you know. About having the abortion. Because I’d nearly died, and I’d worked so hard to get healthy again. I knew I wasn’t all the way there. And I felt guilty because we’d just talked about having kids—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I was ashamed,” she said softly. “Because I was angry when I found out. I wasn’t ready for it. I didn’t—I didn’t—I mean, I wanted the baby. I want our child, but I also didn’t. You know?”

“I do.” He shifted towards her, closer, and she almost wept from the relief. Because Jason was finally here. Looking at her the way she’d needed him to. “I wanted it a year from now. Two years. Not then.”

“I wanted us to have a minute,” she whispered. “Just some time. We never get to have any time. I know that sounds stupid, but we just seem to lurch from crisis to crisis, and we never even got to date.” Her voice broke. “I’m sorry. That’s insane to say—”

“Hey—”

“And I got pregnant, so everyone started looking at us to get married—and I love being married to you. I love you, I do—”

“You wanted more time,” Jason said. He touched her face, cupping her cheek and using the pad of his thumb to swipe at her tears. “We didn’t plan it this way.”

“No.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy with how things turned out. I love you. I love being your wife, and most of our wedding day was absolutely perfect. Outside maybe an hour of it, you know? And I love our baby.” She pulled his hand over her belly and smiled as Cameron kicked. “I love him. And I know you love him, too.”

“I do,” Jason told her. “None of this is his fault, and I don’t resent him. I don’t want him to struggle in the NICU either. I don’t want any of those complications. Which is why when Monica said your vitals were stable enough to wait, I was relieved. And I was grateful that you wanted to wait.”

“You were?” Elizabeth blinked at him. “But—”

“But I was…” He paused. “I was terrified,” he said finally. “I am scared every minute that I will walk out that door, and that will be it. I left you in that house, Elizabeth, and you—you died.”

“I know.”

“I left you to go with Taggert to the prison, and that bastard broke in—” Jason shook his head.

“It’s been months of this,” Elizabeth said. She covered his hand cupping her cheek with her own and pulled it away so she could snuggle into his side, and for the first time in days—in weeks, really—feel like they were back in sync. “Since the day I overdosed at the studio, Jason. You’ve been scared I’ll die this time, and I’ve been afraid you’re right. I do care if I die—”

“I never should have said that—” he said. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry—”

“I’ve been pushing you away, making it hard for you to talk to me. I just—I know how much you’re taking on. How much worse it made things for us to go away as long as we did, but you did that for me. I just wanted to protect you. I didn’t do it right—”

“I need you to understand something—” Jason drew away from her briefly to frame her face in his hands. “You need to listen to me when I say this because I need you to believe me. You are not an item on my list—”

“I know that—”

“No, I don’t think you do. Everything else—everyone else—they don’t matter.”

“Jason—”

“If something happens to you or Cameron—” His eyes burned into hers. “All of it can go to hell. You are the goddamn list. You are the center of it. But you have to let me put you first. I can’t do it alone.”

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight. “That’s why I lied,” she murmured. “Because I was trying to put you first. I’m terrible at it, but I’ll do better, okay? I just—I couldn’t hit you with this. I couldn’t. I love you so much and I didn’t want that look in your eyes. I know I did it wrong, but I did it because I know this is how you feel. I know how much you love me. I just need you to believe that I love you that much, too.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “I do.” Their lips found each other, and Elizabeth could have sobbed from the relief of feeling him against her, his mouth on her skin—this was home, and this was all she’d ever wanted.

Ward House: Master Bedroom

Tamika set aside the book she’d been reading as Justus came in that night. “Baby, you look so tired—” She started to push the covers aside, but he stopped her by sitting down next to her, perched on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I called—”

“I know. But I feel better when you’re here.” Tamika rubbed his arm, her fingers sliding over the fabric of his suit. “Did you look in on Kimi?”

“Yeah. I tucked her in and kissed her. I’ll be home tomorrow to make up for being gone—”

“It’s all right. Get out of that suit and come to bed. I’ll give you a massage,” she said with a wicked smile. His answering smile was more sober. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. I just—” He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “It just strikes me sometimes how lucky I am to have you, Mikki. I’ve been watching Jason worry over Elizabeth and both of them worrying over that baby—if anything happened to you or Kimi, I’d be lost.”

“Same goes for me.” She squeezed his arm. “Get in bed, and we’ll talk about it.”

“If I get in bed, we’re not going to talk.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she laughed, and he grinned, leaning over to dance his fingers over her ribcage. Tamika exploded into giggles until he swallowed her laughter with his lips.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth’s eyes drifted open, then she snuggled more firmly into Jason’s arms, tightening her arm over his waist, and pillowing her head on his chest. Then frowned, realizing that his breathing had changed.

Elizabeth leaned up on her elbow, frowning at him in the darkness. “Are you still awake?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Jason gently pulled so she’d lay back down, but she was already reaching for the light on the table next to her. The room brightened to a soft glow.

“What’s wrong? Did you get a call—”

“No—” Jason sighed and sat up. “I just haven’t been able to sleep, but you—”

“I’m fine. I mean, I’m always tired, and I’ll take a nap later—” She hitched the sheet under her arms. “You said you hadn’t slept in days—”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m making it sound like you’re doing something wrong. I know you don’t usually need a lot of sleep, but it’s—” She reached over to the table and squinted at the clock. “It’s barely four.”

Jason laid back, clasping his hands under his head and staring up the ceiling. “I was thinking about Sonny.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “I didn’t—I saw on the news that he didn’t make bail.” She turned, laying on her side as she faced him. “It must be hard for him to be locked up.”

“I didn’t want him in there. I got him bail the first time.”

“Then he punched the mayor.”

“Yeah.”

Elizabeth was quiet for a long moment. “You said that I haven’t made it easy for you to talk to me—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I know that’s true. But you haven’t talked to me either,” she pointed out. He turned his head to meet her eyes. “I’m glad Justus is there for you, but he’s also—he’s in the middle of this. And he doesn’t know Sonny the way I do. I wouldn’t ask about the business, but this isn’t the same thing. Things got worse after we came home, didn’t they?”

“Yeah.” He looked back at the ceiling. “The only reason things are holding together is that you’re pregnant,” he admitted. “Tommy—you remember Tommy, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, from the wedding. He runs the clubs.”

“He’s been around a long time. Before Sonny. He worked for the Jeromes, then Frank Smith—” Jason paused. “He has a lot of power, and the only reason he didn’t take over instead of Sonny was he didn’t want the pressure. It’s hard being at the top.”

“I know. I’ve seen how it’s changed Sonny.”

“Tommy told me before the wedding that there are people who are tired of waiting for Sonny to get his act together. There hasn’t been a grab for power because I asked him for time.”

“Because of me,” Elizabeth said softly. “Because of the baby.”

“I had to tell him you weren’t okay,” he admitted in a low, pained voice. “I hated using you that way—using Cameron—”

“It’s not using me, Jason. It’s being honest.”

“I don’t like it,” he said stubbornly, and she decided not to press the point.

“Are you running out of time? Did this Sonny stuff yesterday make things worse?”

“I don’t know.”

“What—I mean, what do they want you to do that you’re not already doing? I mean, aren’t things still running fine—I don’t know anything, but it feels like things are fine—”

“They are. And they’re not.” Jason sat up, drawing his legs up and wrapping his arms around them. “All those Ric sightings, Elizabeth—I don’t think they’re real.”

“You’ve said that before. How do you know? What does that mean?” She pulled herself up, then sat back against the headboard.

“I don’t know if any of the sightings were ever real,” Jason admitted. “Venezuela, Puerto Rico, Colombia—no one outside of the business has ever seen him.”

Elizabeth absorbed that information. “Which means Ric vanished the night he went missing, and you still don’t know where he is. That’s…not comforting.”

“No. I mean, some of it could be real,” he admitted. “But it’s always coming through us. Through someone who works in the business.” He twisted to look at her. “Interpol, the FBI, the PCPD—the police in Crimson Pointe—no one else but us. That’s not right.”

“When you put it that way, I guess it’s not.” Troubled, Elizabeth twisted her wedding ring on her finger. “What does it mean, then, for all these people to be passing fake information?”

“I wasn’t sure until this last one. Baltimore,” he clarified. “That’s pretty close. The one while we were gone? In Atlanta? Both times someone reached out and called Sonny personally.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “Wait. That’s—that’s not how this is done.”

“No. No, it isn’t. You can’t call the heads of the organization personally. That’s the whole point of having people like me and Bernie and Justus—Johnny and Tommy and Francis. It makes it harder to tie one person to another.” Jason dragged a hand down his face. “But Sonny is getting the call, and he’s getting it first now.”

“God, that’s why he went to the Brownstone.” The ramifications of that hit Elizabeth like a freight truck. “They must know that you kept those other ones from him. The ones from the wedding, right? What was it, Miami and—”

“Puerto Rico. I didn’t mean to keep Puerto Rico from him,” he added. “It just—it slipped through the cracks. The news came in while we were dealing with the tests—” he shook his head. “I was going to tell him about Miami, but I wanted to wait until we were out of town.”

“But that means—”

“It means someone inside is working with Lansing. Or whoever is putting this together,” Jason added. “It could be the Zaccharas. It could be the Gambinos or Big Bobby—anyone of them wouldn’t mind seeing Sonny crash and burn.”

“Someone knows that you and Sonny are arguing about handling all of this and then using Sonny’s instability to make that wedge worse,” Elizabeth murmured. A traitor. Someone Jason trusted. “Are there so many people who could do that?”

“There’s enough. Sonny’s issues aren’t exactly a well-kept secret,” Jason admitted. “And everyone knows there’s been division over handling Ric.”

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “I never—I should have seen that letting him live—”

“No one could have,” Jason assured her. He laid back down, propping himself up on his elbow. “Neither you nor Carly could have predicted how bad this could get—”

“But Sonny knew letting him live would make him weak—”

“No. That’s not what did it. Don’t blame yourself for this—”

“I’m not. I just—” She sighed. “I’m thinking of all the ways you’ve put me first since all of this started, and letting Ric live is at the top of the list—you did that for me—and for Carly—and it’s given all of us nothing but grief.”

“It was what you needed to be okay, and I stand by that decision. Sonny decided to make this an issue. At every step of the way,” Jason told her, “Sonny made sure everyone knew he was angry about this. This is on Sonny. Not you and Carly.”

“All right.” Elizabeth accepted that. “What happens next? I mean, with Sonny in lockup and all these sightings? Can I ask that?”

“I don’t know. I know what Tommy and the others want. The only way to keep him from causing a war—” Jason laid back down and looked at the ceiling again. He didn’t finish his statement. He didn’t have to.

Tommy wanted Sonny gone. And that wasn’t something Jason was going to be able to deliver. It was out of the question. Even Elizabeth could see that.

She couldn’t fix any of this—couldn’t do anything other than be a sounding board for him, and she hoped that would be enough.

But there was something she could do. Something that could give him some peace, at least in one area.

“I talked to Gail today—well, yesterday now.”

Jason blinked, then twisted his head to look at her. “Right. I’m sorry—I didn’t—”

“It’s okay.” She slid closer to him, and he put an arm around her shoulders to curl her into his side. “We talked about why I was waiting and how scared I’ve been. I just—it’s not difficult, you know. I’m not really okay after the miscarriage. I’m not sure it’s ever something I’ll be able to forgive myself for.”

“Elizabeth—”

“But that baby is gone.” She cleared her throat even as the pain jabbed again, slicing through her. “I never got the chance to do more than dream about her. I think she would have been a girl, and I would have loved her no matter what.”

“I know you would have.”

“But she’s gone. And Cameron is here. He needs to be the child I think about. And he deserves to have us both. I don’t want you to raise him alone.”

“I’m sorry. I never should have—”

“My oxygen levels are normal again, but we’re going to keep a close eye on them. I’ll hit thirty-two weeks on March 3. As long as my vitals stay stable, I’ll check in that Friday. Monica’s already cleared the schedule.”

Jason’s hand tightened for a moment around her shoulder. “And she says it’s okay to wait that long?”

“Yes. As long as my levels don’t dip,” she reminded him. “She’s still checking daily, and if they drop even a point, I’m inducing.”

“Are you sure—”

“This is a good compromise. It’s not what I wanted, but I’ve done my best, and I have to be realistic,” she said, smiling slightly. “I know if anything happens, we’ll be able to face it together.” She rested her chin on his chest so that she could look at him. “I had a really big day today. I went and toured the NICU and met the nurse there that will probably work on Cameron’s case. She was really nice, and I made an appointment with a neonatologist so we could talk to him. Did you know that we can hold him in the NICU?”

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah. There’s something called kangaroo care. Preemies do really well with skin touching, and you can do that, too. Plus, we can wash him and care for him. We can be together doing that and maybe even stay overnight. He won’t be at home, but—”

“You were going to tell me that when I got home,” Jason interrupted. “Weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’m sorry—”

“You don’t have to apologize—”

“I do.” He sat up again, taking her by the shoulders. “I should have talked to you. I shouldn’t have lost my temper—”

“I am the one person in the world you should be able to lose your temper with,” she told him. “Did you think we were never going to fight?”

“I don’t like to fight with you.” He leaned forward to brush his lips against hers.

“Me either, but I’m glad we did. We’ve talked more about what’s going on tonight than we have in weeks. Maybe months. I feel like we’ve just been trying so hard to protect each other we’re doing the opposite.” Elizabeth laid a hand on his cheek. “I plan to spend the rest of my life with you. Tonight wasn’t the first fight, and it won’t be the last. I just want you to remember that I love you, and I’ll remember that you love me, and we’ll get through whatever else life throws at us.”

Courtland Street: Alley

The night was crawling towards dawn when Lucky pulled the patrol car to a stop. He grimaced as he switched off the engine and peered down the dark alley. “Do you see anything?”

“No.” Dante craned his neck, then rolled down the window slightly. “No. But we should check it out.” He sighed. “Another day, another drug dealer.”

“Yeah, well, what are you going to do? There are too many Escobars to arrest them all,” Lucky muttered as he checked his gun. “Call for backup. Just in case,” he said.

“Okay.” Dante raised his radio and called in. “Unit 84, Code 8 at Courtland and Van Ess. Repeat, Code 8, Courtland and Van Ess.”

They got out of the car, and both of them pulled their guns, holding them low. They waited a minute, hoping to hear back from the radio that backup was being radioed for. Finally, they heard the dispatcher put up the call.

“Okay, let’s head in.”

“Cover me,” Lucky muttered as they approached the mouth of the alley. “I’ll do a sweep. He glanced back to make sure Dante was behind him, then started down the alley carefully.

He was maybe halfway when Lucky heard footsteps—he turned slightly—

“Watch out—”

Gunshots ripped through the air as fire dug into Lucky’s shoulder. He grunted and slid to the ground. Footsteps rushed away, clattering down the alley. He heard Dante give chase as Lucky tried to haul himself to a sitting position.

“Dispatch, Unit—” He swallowed hard as ice spread through his chest. “Unit 84. Code 30. Officer down. Emergency—”

“Spencer, Spencer—” Dante came back and dropped to his knees. “Where the hell is the backup? Shit, shit, you got hit—”

“You think?”

Then Lucky’s head lolled to the side, and he passed out.

I find the answers aren’t so clear
Wish I could find a way to disappear
All these thoughts they make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance
Nothing seems to go away
Over and over again
Just like before
– One Step Closer, Linkin Park

---

Friday, February 20, 2004

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth gingerly stepped off the stairs, wincing at the tightness in her chest. She hadn’t really tackled steps in several weeks, and in the last twelve hours, she’d had to deal with them twice. Jason hadn’t been there. Monica had stayed until she’d gone to sleep, had walked with her up the stairs, but Elizabeth hadn’t wanted to ask the guard on duty to carry her. She’d wanted Jason.

The fact that she’d driven him away so hard that he hadn’t returned last night even to take her up the stairs had shaken her. Somehow, in the last six or seven months, she’d taken Jason’s presence for granted. She’d barely been able to sleep last night, listening for the familiar sound of his boots on the steps, the warmth of his body next to hers.

Her fingers shaking, Elizabeth reached out to take her cell phone from the charger and flipped it open to find two voicemails. One from Gail and the other from Jason. Cowardly, she clicked Gail’s first.

“Hello, Elizabeth. I got Monica’s message last night, and I wanted to let you know I made room in my schedule today. I hope ten will be all right. Please let me know if it isn’t. Otherwise, I’ll see you then.”

Elizabeth didn’t know if she was up to return to therapy, but maybe she’d left it too early. Maybe she should have stayed in the support group after all. It seemed almost arrogant now for her to have assumed she’d worked through her issues and could handle it on her own.

She could barely walk down the stairs.

For Jason, though, she knew she needed to do better. She needed to fix what was wrong with her so she could stop hurting him.

With that thought rattling in her brain, Elizabeth pressed his message.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I’ve been at the warehouse all night. I’ll call if I won’t be home tonight.”

That was it. The entire message. She stared at her phone, blinking at it. He hadn’t asked about her or the baby. Hadn’t even acknowledged the message she’d left him.

He hadn’t told her he loved her. The first time since…

Since the hospital. In July.

Elizabeth tightened her fingers around her phone, squeezed her eyes shut. She’d hurt him so much, and it was her turn to reach out. To make it better. So she dialed his number and tried not to flinch when the phone rang three times—and went to voicemail.

He’d declined her call. It was five rings before voicemail came on automatically. Anything less than that meant he’d seen her name and hadn’t taken her call.

“Hey,” Elizabeth said, forcing a lightness to her tone. “I got your message. Thank you for letting me know. I—I was worried,” she admitted. “Um, I have—I’m going to see Gail today, but I’m okay. I mean, I tested myself this morning. I used the portable thing Monica gave us, and my levels are still at 94. That’s good. I wish it were higher, but you know—” She paused. “Please, if you can, come home. I’m sorry. I just—I’m sorry. I love you.”

She closed her phone, set it on the desk, then went over to the door. As she expected, Cody was on duty.

“Good morning, Mrs. Morgan.” He straightened immediately. “What can I get you?”

“Um, I have to be at the hospital at ten, but I want to stop on the way for some breakfast, so around nine?” she asked. “If that’s okay.”

“I’ll make sure the car is ready.” Cody paused, squinting. “Uh, Mr. Morgan isn’t here? I mean, the night guard said—”

“No, Sonny’s keeping him pretty busy right now,” Elizabeth said, laughing uneasily. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

She closed the door, leaned her forehead against the wood. Her eyes felt heavy, and it was a struggle to hold back the tears. She didn’t have the right to cry. She deserved this. She’d done nothing but push Jason away, and now he’d gone. It would serve her right if he didn’t bother coming back.

PCPD: Squad Room

Jason felt his phone vibrate. Elizabeth. His throat burned as he thought of her at home, alone. He knew Monica had gone home the night before—his mother had called him to say her condition was stable and that he was an idiot for not coming home.

Elizabeth alone in the penthouse meant she’d gone up the stairs last night herself and probably down them this morning. And he’d even warned he might not come home tonight. He slid his finger over her name again. Was she angry? Would she be upset if he listened to her message? Would she—

“Morgan.”

Jason’s head snapped up, and he saw Scott Baldwin outside the open door of the interrogation room. He slid the phone into his pocket and went to deal with something that he could actually handle.

“You got ten minutes, and then he’s back in lock-up,” Scott warned him. He sneered, and Jason felt almost comforted. Here was something that was normal. Baldwin had come to his wedding for Elizabeth, but with Ric long gone, and the rapist case wrapped up, the district attorney was back to loathing Sonny with Jason as collateral damage.

Jason liked when things were predictable, and the PCPD as an enemy felt right.

“Got it,” he said, then went into the room where Justus was standing, his arms folded. Sonny was handcuffed to the table, dressed in the familiar blue jumpsuit. There were deep circles under his eyes, purple gouges that stood in stark contrast to the red, bloodshot eyes. His disheveled curls hung limply over his forehead.

“Why am I still in here?” Sonny bit out. “What the hell are you assholes doing?”

Jason gritted his teeth, then glanced over at Justus, who looked as tired as Jason felt. They’d spent the entire time at the warehouse, going over every single Lansing sighting since the bastard had jumped bail and dissecting the people who had reported to them.

The only thing they were sure of was that someone inside the organization was screwing with them because they knew how out of control Sonny was. The last few sightings had been reported to Sonny directly.

It couldn’t be Lansing — or at least it wasn’t Lansing working alone — and the thought that they had a traitor working against them from within the organization was just one more thing Jason had to juggle.

“Sonny,” Justus said with his jaw clenched, “has refused to participate in a psychiatric evaluation and has refused to allow me to petition for it. I can’t do it without his consent. I can’t even ask the DA to do it for me—”

“I’m not fucking crazy—” Sonny tried to lung to his feet, but his hands and feet were chained to table and chair. He scowled. “You need to be calling the goddamn judge to get me out of here—”

“Even if you could convince a judge to sign off on the request,” Justus told Jason, ignoring Sonny, “it wouldn’t hold up if Sonny doesn’t want it. I’m out of options here.”

“The hell you are—”

Justus’s head whipped around, his eyes flashing. “Watch it, Sonny! I haven’t seen my family in more than thirty-six hours. Jason hasn’t been home for more than ten minutes with a sick, pregnant wife waiting for him—”

Jason flinched at that reminder.

“You are charged with four counts of assault—do you even remember the security guards you decked to get up to Alexis? Ned is throwing every single charge he can find at you—you broke into the mayor’s offices and attacked him—you’re facing at least six or seven felonies—what the hell do you think I’m going to be able to do when you already violated your bail by getting arrested within two hours of being released?”

Sonny seethed. “You don’t get to talk to me like that—”

“I’m not going to talk to you at all,” Justus shot back. “I’ve already filed notice that I’m withdrawing from your case. Find someone else to clean up this mess. I’m done.” He yanked open the interrogation room door and slammed it behind him.

“You need to get me another lawyer—”

“You need to shut the hell up,” Jason cut in sharply, and Sonny blinked at him. “Another lawyer isn’t going to get you out. I already called in favors to get you out on bail last night, Sonny! I tried to keep you out of lock up! And because of you—”

Because of Sonny, Elizabeth had gone to that damned appointment alone. None of this would be happening if Jason had been there. Maybe he could have even convinced her to check in—maybe she’d be in delivery right now and on the road to recovery—their son would be in the world—

But Sonny had lost control and had taken Jason’s life with it.

Because Jason had let it happen.

“I can’t do anything else for you,” Jason said roughly. “I’ll make some calls, I’ll get another lawyer, but no one is giving you bail. Not right now.”

Sonny stared at him, his eyes dark and burning. “I can’t go into lock-up—I can’t spend another night like that—”

“Then let Justus file for an evaluation,” Jason said, his tone all but begging. “We need to end this, Sonny. We need to make it over, all right? If we can get a doctor to tell the court—”

“You want me to admit I’m weak?” Sonny roared. “That I can’t control myself? To hell with you! I’m not weak—”

“You’ve been weak for months!” Jason slapped a hand on the table. “And you’ve made me weak, too, because I won’t do what everyone wants me to do!”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’ll get you another lawyer,” he bit out. “But you’re on your own after that, Sonny. I can’t do this anymore.”

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

“Ned—”

He turned, pausing in the act of shrugging into his coat to find his mother stepping off the bottom stair. He hadn’t spoken to her since the terrible scene a few days earlier after the news had broken and she’d ripped into him.

“Mother. Can I help you?”

Tracy exhaled slowly. “I’d like a moment of your time. Please.”

Ned narrowed his eyes. He was unsure the last time he’d heard his mother utter that particular word, so just out of pure curiosity— “All right.”

Tracy stepped towards him. “After you left on Wednesday, Mother and I had a long talk. She was—” His mother shifted her eyes away. “A bit disappointed in the way I had reacted.”

That would put it mildly. Lila didn’t have to raise her voice to express disapproval, a skill Ned hoped he’d learn one day. “So was I—”

“Alexis dropped off a copy of the press statement for Father—” Tracy crossed over to a table and picked up a folder. “She also wanted to apologize—”

“She has nothing to apologize for—” Ned snapped, but his mother held up a hand.

“I know. And neither do you.” Tracy pressed her lips together, then looked down at the statement. “The family is putting out a statement of its own. I thought you might want to run it past Alexis and Lois to make sure it dovetails with your messaging.” She held it out.

Ned grimaced, then opened the folder. He skimmed the statement, then raised his eyes to his mother. “You wrote this?”

“Father and I drafted it together.”

“‘The Quartermaine family is deeply ashamed,” Ned began, “of any media publication that would capitalize on the grief of parents whose only crime is the loss of their child. The blood of Brooke Lynn Ashton stains their hands. They chose to publish the name of a rape victim, rejecting compassion to sell more papers. It is disappointing, but not surprising, to learn that the Port Charles Sun and Port Charles Herald continues to victimize the innocent by speculating on the paternity of a child, publishing her name and opening her parents to more grief and pain. The Quartermaine family, therefore, would like to remind Port Charles that we protect our own. Kristina Davis-Ashton is, and will always be, ours.” His throat tightened and he looked at his mother.

“I was terrified,” Tracy murmured as she took the statement back, “that it meant I’d lose another grandchild. I didn’t do enough for Brooke. I was—I was in a meeting with lawyers. Prepping our suit against the city and the media. That’s what I was doing when she took those pills.” She met her son’s eyes. “I never did enough for her. Or you. Or Dillon. Kristina—I thought she’d be another chance.”

“I know.” Ned cleared his throat. “I know. Mother—”

“What these papers did to you and Lois, what they did to Brooke—” Tracy shook her head. “We can’t let them get away with it, Ned. I understand why your statement was restrained, but we don’t have to be. Brooke was ours, too. Let us help you protect Kristina.”

“Thank you, Mother.” He drew her into a tentative embrace. “I’ll give this to Lois, but I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

General Hospital: Hallway

Elizabeth blinked when she saw Emily waiting outside of Gail’s office, pacing. “Em—”

“Oh. Hey.” Emily’s expression was relieved as she came forward and hugged Elizabeth. “I talked to Mom earlier, and she said Jason never came home last night. I’m sorry—I didn’t think—”

“Don’t apologize.” Elizabeth managed a rueful smile. “We were both right. I shouldn’t have lied, and Jason really couldn’t take one more hit.”

“If Sonny hadn’t gone insane—again,” Emily muttered darkly, “then it wouldn’t be like this. He would have come home—”

“Maybe. But I made a choice to lie, Em, and I made a choice to make Jason feel like he didn’t get a say in what happens to me or the baby. I have to live with that—”

“He’ll come around. He will,” Emily insisted. “He loves you. You know that—”

“I do. And I’ve taken him for granted. Repeatedly. I’m not innocent, not even a little. He’s put up with a lot from me—” Elizabeth shook her head. “And I still don’t even know if I’m ready to change my mind.”

Emily pursed her lips. “Okay, but—just in case—” She handed Elizabeth a piece of paper with a name and time scrawled on it. “I called in a favor with a nurse I know in the NICU. She’s going to give you a tour.”

Elizabeth’s froze as she reached for the paper. “The NICU?”

“You need to see where Cameron might be, even if it’s for a few days. You need to see it, meet some of the people who will be there to care for him.” Emily opened Elizabeth’s hand, put the paper in her palm, then closed Elizabeth’s fingers around it. “Promise me you’ll go.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “What if it makes it worse?” she asked softly.

“Trust me,” Emily said. “This will help. I love you. I want you and my nephew to have the world.” She hugged Elizabeth. “Call me when it’s done.”

Elizabeth sighed and watched as Emily left, then went into Gail’s office for her appointment.

Brownstone: Living Room

The last person Jason wanted to see when he got to the Brownstone after the PCPD was Luke, sitting next to Bobbie on the sofa while Carly stood pensively at the front window.

He did not need one more person who was going to give him crap about not taking action on Sonny sooner.

“What happened to your legendary security?” Luke demanded, getting to his feet. “Corinthos got past them and the security system—”

“Luke, I told you not to start—” Bobbie said, reaching for his elbow. “I told you—”

“It’s hard for them,” Carly said wearily, turning towards Jason. “It’s one thing to say you’ll go against Sonny, but another for them to do it. And maybe they didn’t realize he was going to break in until he did it.”

“That was their story,” Jason told her. “I’ve reassigned them, and—” He hesitated. “For now, with Sonny in lock up, the security system is enough. I let Francis choose the last set of guys, but I want to do it personally. I didn’t have time before,” he snapped as Luke opened his mouth. “I didn’t think it was necessary until the wedding—”

“It’s okay,” Carly told him. “You let Justus call Taggert, and he was here. Lucas and Felix were here. I was even grateful for Maxie. She kept Michael calm. He knew Sonny was here, but she distracted him.” She rubbed her arms. “How did it happen? Last night, I mean. You said you’d keep an eye on him.”

“How’d he get past you?” Luke put his hands at his waist. “What was the point of letting him out of lock up if you were just going to let him wander around—”

“I didn’t—” Jason stopped. He had meant to keep a closer eye on Sonny, make sure he was behind the doors of his own penthouse with guards. He’d brought Sonny over while they waited for Max to come on duty.

Then Elizabeth had looked at him and told him she lied, that her oxygen levels had dropped, and he’d simply snapped.

He hadn’t wanted to yell at her, hadn’t wanted to take the anger out on her. He’d simply left, and he hadn’t thought about Sonny again until Justus’s call.

“I didn’t ask you to blame you,” Carly told him softly. “I was just worried. I knew you’d meant to take care of things, which meant if you didn’t, something was wrong. That’s all.” Her eyes searched hers. “What’s going on? Something isn’t right.”

“Is it Elizabeth?” Bobbie asked sharply. “Is she okay?”

“She’s—” Jason paused. “She’s fine. Something came up, and I wasn’t—I didn’t—it just happened. Okay? Everyone is fine,” he said more sharply than he’d meant to, and Carly just stared at him. “It’s fine,” he repeated.

“I wish you trusted me,” Carly said in that same soft tone that felt more like a slap than anything Luke had said to him. “Things aren’t fine, Jason. You don’t want to talk about it, that’s one thing. But don’t lie to me. Don’t you ever lie to me when all I’m doing is making sure you’re okay. I didn’t ask you to take care of Sonny last night. I told you to leave him in jail even as hard as it was. You decided to take that on, so when it went wrong, I was legitimately worried about you.”

Jason exhaled slowly. He barely noticed as Bobbie put a hand on Luke’s arm and gestured for them to leave Jason and Carly alone. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. Things aren’t fine,” he added. “But it’s not anything you need to worry about.”

“I worry about everything, Jason. You just never let me help. You come in here to take care of me and my boys, and I’m grateful for it. I am. But I’m done being something on your list.” Carly folded her arms, her glare deepening. “We’re either friends, or we’re not, and right now, it doesn’t feel much like friendship. I am not your responsibility. I can handle my own security. I’ll hire private guards.”

“Carly—”

“You have enough to worry about with Sonny not taking anyone’s advice and with Elizabeth and the baby. I’m not interested in being one more thing on the list.”

Why was everyone talking to him about being on a list? There wasn’t any goddamn list, Jason thought bitterly. He didn’t have people numbered, and if he did, he sure as hell wouldn’t put his own wife at the end of it—

“Fine. You want to handle your own security, then do it. I have enough to worry about—”

“That’s exactly my point,” Carly said, stopping Jason as he turned to go. He tensed. “You walk around, trying to handle everyone, and then you get angry at anyone who tries to do the same to you. You want to handle my life, Elizabeth’s life, Sonny’s life—when the hell are you going handle your own?”

“You have a lot of nerve—” Jason snapped, then stopped, appalled at himself. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize when it’s the first honest piece of emotion you’ve shown,” Carly said. “You’re right. I have a lot of nerve telling you how to live your life when all I’ve ever done is mess up yours. Make things harder. Get mad at me, Jason. At least I’ll know you’re letting yourself feel something—”

“I can’t—” Jason paused, trying to gather himself. “I don’t have the time for that—”

“Then make the damn time. What happened last night? And why is it so hard for you just to say it—”

“Because I can’t,” Jason shot back. “Okay? What do you want me to say, Carly? I went home last night, and Elizabeth told me her oxygen levels are dropping, and the only reason I didn’t know it about twenty-four hours earlier is that we had a bomb drop on us with Kristina—why the hell didn’t you tell me about Kristina being Sonny’s kid?” he demanded. “I get not telling Sonny—but why would you let me be blindsided like that?”

“I didn’t—” Carly rubbed the side of her face. “I had no idea it would hit the papers. I still don’t know how—and it was just a suspicion, Jason. I said I was sorry—”

“I am sick of people lying to me about things I damn well should know!” Jason growled. “You knew Sonny was making threats to get the boys back in the penthouse, knowing he came here to take them himself—what did you think would happen when he found out about Kristina?”

“I honestly didn’t—”

“No, you didn’t think, Carly. That’s the problem. You never think further than ten feet in front of your own damn face—” Jason stopped abruptly, staring at his hands.

They were shaking.

“Jason—” Carly came forward and put her hands over his, stilling them. “Why aren’t you home with Elizabeth? What the hell is going on?”

“I think—” He closed his eyes. “She lied to me. She told me the appointment was fine, but it wasn’t, and the only reason she did that was that Sonny and Justus had just had a fight. A physical one,” he added. “She lied because she didn’t want to make things worse. She told me last night.”

“That’s why Sonny wasn’t being watched,” Carly murmured. “I’m so sorry. But that doesn’t answer my question. Why aren’t you home with her? Why aren’t you with her right now?”

“Because I can’t. I can’t look at her. I just want to shake her—” He couldn’t force any other words out. Couldn’t make himself speak. “She’s going to die, and I don’t know how to stop it, and I don’t want to be angry with her. It’s not her fault. It’s not. It’s just—”

“We’re all doing the best we can.” She squeezed his hands. “Why aren’t you with her right now?” she repeated for the third time. “Why are you dealing with Sonny and me and all this other stuff that doesn’t matter?”

“It does—”

“Not if Elizabeth doesn’t get through this.” Carly tipped her head. “Be selfish, Jason. I’m begging you. Let Sonny deal with this latest crap on his own—”

“I can’t.” Jason stepped back. “Not yet. I can’t handle it. Not anymore. Not without snapping.” He dragged a hand down his face. “She doesn’t need that from me. Okay? So—so, you can look into security, but I’ll still get someone, okay? I’ll do a better job this time—”

“You didn’t do a bad job last time—” Carly grimaced. “Jason—”

“I have to go.”

She watched him go, then went into the kitchen, where Luke and Bobbie were not doing a very good job at not pretending to listen.

“Should I call Elizabeth?” Bobbie wanted to know.

“No, Jason will have to go home sometime.” Carly sighed. “I hope he does snap. He needs to, and I think Elizabeth is the person who actually needs to hear it.”  She looked at Luke. “Can you drive me over to your place? I appreciate Laura looking after the boys, but I need my babies. Thinking about what Jason’s going through—what he and Elizabeth are facing—”

“I’ll get the keys,” Luke said, getting to his feet. “You did good, Caroline,” he assured her. “The best you could.”

“Just wish it was enough,” she murmured.

General Hospital NICU: Hallway

Elizabeth hesitated at the entrance to the NICU—the ward was behind a set of locked doors that could only be entered with a member of the staff, and she was early for her meeting. She looked at Cody. “Do you mind waiting back here?”

“Not a problem.” Cody gestured to the waiting room. “I’ll be here when you need me.”

A bright, perky blonde stepped out of the NICU doors and smiled. “Elizabeth Morgan?”

“Yes. Are you the neonatal nurse?”

“Yeah, hi! I’m Nadine Crowell.” She extended her hand, and Elizabeth shook it. “Come on back! I’ll give you a quick tour of what I can and answer any questions you have.”

Elizabeth followed the nurse behind the doors and folded her arms over her belly as they approached the first room. “It’s smaller than I thought it’d be,” she admitted. She stepped to the side as a few people brushed past her. “And busier.”

“Yeah, we don’t have a lot of NICU babies,” Nadine said, “but we have a lot of specialists in and out. Emily said you have CTEPH, which means you’ll be inducing early to avoid complications?” she asked. She stopped at a sink and washed her hands. “You need to wash your hands every time you come in,” she told her. “We’re obsessed with it here.”

“Of course.” Elizabeth washed her hands and accepted the towel Nadine handed her. Then Nadine helped her to put on a gown similar to the one she wore. “Yeah, I’m at thirty weeks. I was hoping to wait until thirty-five, but—” She sighed. “It’ll probably be more like thirty-two.”

“Oh, that’s good. Thirty-two is a good time,” Nadine told her. She stopped in front of a room where an empty incubator sat. “This is where your baby would spend probably about two months,” she told Elizabeth. “At thirty-two weeks, depending on the baby’s own weight and development, they’re in the NICU for six-eight weeks.”

“And my husband and I— we can visit?” Elizabeth murmured. “Dr. Lee said we could.”

“Yes. One of you can be in here twenty-four-seven, and a lot of the time you can be here together, which is good for building the family bond. A lot of parents like that—they can help us wash and change the babies as they get older, and we really encourage skin-to-skin as often as possible—”

Elizabeth blinked, looked at her. “I can hold—we can hold him?”

“Oh, yeah! Babies who get skin-to-skin do just amazing with it. We have a lot of specialists to make sure he gets the best care.” Nadine tipped her head. “It’s not often we get a mom in here before the delivery.”

“Don’t do a lot of tours?”

“Honestly, no, but you’re the chief of staff’s daughter-in-law,” Nadine told her. “And most of the time, parents don’t know they’re going to be in the NICU until it happens.”

“I’m—I’m trying to be okay with inducing early,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’m not sure I’m there yet.”

“It’s scary,” Nadine said. “For parents and sometimes for us. But we’ve come a long way, and there’s a lot we can do to make sure your little guy goes home safe and sound. But at thirty-two weeks, you know—he won’t look like what you’re expecting. His skin might be thinner, he’ll be much smaller—”

“Kelly showed me some pictures.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’m not sure if I can do this,” she murmured. She looked at the incubator, tried to picture herself sitting near it.

“It’s scary,” Nadine repeated. “GH has one of the best staff in the country—and they’ve really invested in the NICU. I know it might be terrifying to think of your son in there, with all the wires and tubes, but Mrs. Morgan?”

Elizabeth looked at her, at the kindness and understanding. “Yeah?”

“He’ll be in good hands here. We’ll love him, take care of him, and I promise you, we will do everything we can to make sure you have a healthy boy to take home.” She paused. “I can schedule an appointment for you to meet with a neonatologist if that might help. He can walk you through the treatment and even talk to you about some complications.”

Elizabeth felt Cameron kick her and smiled. “Yeah, let’s—I’d like to get a better idea of what Cameron will be going through. Can I call you? I want to check with my husband and make sure he can go.” If he was even speaking to her after all of this.

Elizabeth looked around the ward again, seeing it with new eyes. It didn’t seem too small or too busy now. There were so many people here who knew exactly how to help her son. She looked at Nadine again. “Thank you for taking some time to show me one of the rooms and answer my questions. I know it’s special treatment, but I still appreciate it.”

“Honestly, I’d give every parent a tour if we knew in advance,” Nadine said as they walked back towards the ward’s doors. “You’re lucky to be able to plan it, to get the chance to learn to everything.”

Elizabeth smiled at her again and took the card Nadine gave her. “Thanks. I’ll call for that appointment.”

Port Charles Municipal Building: Mayor’s Office

“Well—” Lois set that day’s papers on his desk with a wry smile. “At least Dante and Kristina are out of the headlines.”

Ned grimaced as he read over the Herald and Sun‘s take on the assault and arrest the day before. “For now.”

She sobered and sat across from him. “Your mother’s press statement from the family will help. It meant a lot that she mentioned Brooke. That she connected it.” Lois pressed a fist to her chest. “She said what we couldn’t.”

“I know.”

She cleared her throat. “We could still hold a press conference. Have you reconsidered taking questions?”

“No. I’d have to talk about Alexis and Kristina, and it would get into her representation of Sonny.” Ned shook his head. “I’m trying to avoid it. Let’s see how the statements shake out.” He set the papers aside. “Have you been able to talk to Dante?”

“Not yet. He’s not talking to anyone,” Lois admitted. “He’s left his apartment, and his roommate won’t tell us where he is. Liv thinks he’s at Kelly’s—he’s been sort of seeing Lulu Spencer, and there are rooms there.”

“He’ll understand, Lois—”

“Will he?” Lois sighed. “It’s a miracle that Liv and Alexis are forgiving me. But they get it. They’re mothers. Dante—he’s been through so much, Ned. With Brooke and Vinnie—now this—”

“I talked to Anna and Taggert. They’re looking after him the best they can,” Ned assured her. “And he’s met the right kind of friends here. Lucky and Lulu—they’re loyal. He’s got people who care about him. Even if he’s angry now—”

“It’s just—I hung up on Brooke, and I never had the chance to make up for it. Dante—he’s just a little bit mine. All I have left,” Lois murmured, “and I’ve hurt him so much—”

“You didn’t hurt him,” Ned retorted. “That damn reporter did—”

“We never should have had that argument at the office—”

“I should have left it alone. If he wants to blame anyone, it should be me—”

“But I’m the one who had hate in my heart. I hated you so much for still having Kristina when I had no one, and now I’ve taken that from you—I never wanted that—”

“Alexis has made it clear that I’m still Kristina’s father, and she hasn’t changed her mind about Sonny. Especially after this.” Ned rose from his desk. “Dante will forgive you, Lois. He’s a good kid. He might need time, but I know he will.”

“I hope you’re right.” Lois stood and reached for the papers. “I’ll toss these in the shredder and get back to work. I don’t want to look at them anymore.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth closed her eyes in relief when she finally heard voices outside, in the hallway — quiet, muffled ones which told her that Jason had finally come. It was nearly nine, and she was exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before and the long day, but she’d been determined to wait for him. He hadn’t called to say he wouldn’t be home there, and she didn’t want to miss his call again.

But he wasn’t alone. Justus filed in behind him, his eyes flashing regret when they met hers. She swallowed hard, realizing that Jason hadn’t wanted to be alone with her.

Would she be able to fix any of this? Even if she agreed to check in tomorrow if that’s what he wanted from her—would Jason ever be able to truly forgive her?

“I didn’t think you’d be up,” Jason said as their eyes met for a brief minute. He closed the door behind him. “Justus and I have work to do, but I’ll take you upstairs first—”

“I know you’ve got a lot on your plate,” Elizabeth began, “but I really need to talk to you first—”

“I’ll go,” Justus offered.

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” Jason asked. “I haven’t slept in nearly two days, and I don’t want to deal with this right now. I came home because I need to sleep.”

Elizabeth flinched, and he grimaced. “I didn’t mean it that way, I just—”

“You’re angry with me—”

“I’m going,” Justus interrupted. “I don’t—”

“No,” Jason told him. “We need to go over a few more things, and—”

“I just need to apologize, okay? Didn’t you get any of my messages?” Elizabeth cut in, her voice faltering. “You didn’t—you didn’t call.”

“I got the messages, but—” Jason scrubbed his hands over his face, then let them fall to his side. “Fine, let’s get this over with. You went to Gail, she didn’t change your mind. You’re really sorry, but you’re going to wait until the last minute to induce labor, and you don’t care if you die and leave me alone to raise Cameron. Anything else?” he snapped.