September 27, 2015

This entry is part 29 of 34 in the The Best Thing

Do you think you can cope?
You figured me out?
That I’m lost and I’m hopeless
I’m bleeding and broken though I’ve never spoken
I come undone in this mad season

Mad Season, Matchbox 20


Sunday, September 4, 2005

Hardy Home: Living Room

 Elizabeth set the phone back onto the receiver and rubbed her eyes. “Father Coates said we could have the church on Tuesday. Can everyone be here by then?”

Nikolas checked his notes. “Yeah—your parents got on the flight this morning in Botswana. They’ll fly into Johannesburg in about—” He looked at his watch. “Another hour. There’s a flight from there to New York City that land them in the US around eight tomorrow night our time. I arranged for Sarah, TJ, and Tom to fly into LaGuardia around the same time, so they can all fly up in the jet. Everyone will be here around midnight. We’re cutting it close, but they’ll be here for the service.”

“And Grandfather has arranged for everyone to have a room at the Cosmopolitan,” Emily continued. “And we have cars for the service the next day.”

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath. Where would she be without these people? Nikolas and Emily were arranging for her family to make it on time—Bobbie had offered up the Brownstone for after the funeral. She and Felicia were handling the catering. The only thing Steven and she had to deal with was the funeral itself.

Jason came in from the kitchen, Evie in his arms and Cameron toddling along with him. “Hey, we finished lunch.” He glanced over his shoulder. “We may need a cleaning service.”

Elizabeth laughed and reached for Cam as he put his arms up to her. She pulled him close, cuddling him. Soon he’d be too big for this, too grown up to hug his mother.

“Give me my baby—” Emily wiggled her hands for Evie. “I haven’t seen her nearly as much as I want to since I started my internship.” Jason relinquished the ten month old to her. “Oh, look at your pretty smile!”

“That’ll distract for her an hour,” Nikolas said dryly. He looked at Elizabeth. “Remember our pact.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Got it. Hey, Em, what are you thinking for baby names?”

“Oh.” Emily brightened, grinning at her brother as he took the last remaining seat in the arm chair. “I have oodles of ideas. I can’t decide if I want to go hip and funky or really super classical. I mean, Lila would be the optimum choice, but I don’t know if Grandmother would have wanted us to do that.” She lifted a shoulder. “I mean, she was a lot like Jason. Kids should stand on their own. Mom only named AJ after Dad because she wanted to stick it to him.”

Nikolas rolled his eyes, but Jason frowned. “Hip and funky?” he repeated.

“Yeah. Like River or Apple. I like the idea of a sweet name, so I thought Berry—”

“She’s kidding, isn’t she?” Elizabeth asked Nikolas. “You get a veto, right?”

“Hey!” Emily pouted. Evie blew a raspberry at her, and her aunt giggled. “Jason asked. I told you I was thinking classical. Maybe not Lila, but something that might…I don’t know, honor her. Plus, I want to make sure Elizabeth and I aren’t crossing streams. She might have a girl name she’s saving, or a second boy.”

Elizabeth flushed, and bit her lip, looking at Jason. Though they’d never explicitly remarked on the idea, of course they’d planned to have more children. Somewhere down the line—maybe when Cam and Evie weren’t both still toddlers. “I hadn’t—” She pursed her lips. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Oh. Well. I looked it up,” Emily continued, bouncing Evie a bit on her knee. “So Lila is actually an Arabic name that means play or amusement. Or maybe night. It depends on which book you look at. It’s also a French word for lilac—”

“This is way too much information,” Nikolas said. “Em—”

“You mock me, but this is important. Names follow you. We’ll be screaming this name for the next, like, twenty years.” Emily sniffed at him. “Anyway. We narrowed it down for the moment. So, Olivia or Charlotte with Paige as a middle name for my biological mother. That’s for a girl. For a boy, Nikolas has vetoed a junior—”

“He’ll have it rough enough with a last name like Cassadine,” Nikolas told Elizabeth with a sigh.

“But I think it would be nice to call him Spencer. Because it would drive Lucky crazy, and if Laura were here, she’d love it.” Emily looked at Nikolas. “We’re still arguing about a middle name for a boy.”

“Spencer Cassadine,” Elizabeth mused. “That poor bastard.”

“You didn’t have a girl’s name picked out for Cam before you found out?” Emily asked. “Come on, Liz. We’re all friends here.” She grinned at her brother.

“Well, I guess…if you’re pressing me right now—” And because it was better than thinking about her family or her grandmother, Elizabeth gave in. “I was thinking Juliet Emily if Cam had been a girl. I’d probably stick with it if Jason liked it.” She looked at Jason, who just shrugged. “And you know he doesn’t care about names.”

“Oh, oh, you’d have little girls named Julie and Evie. It’d be awesome. Julie, Evie, and Cam. I love it.” Emily clapped her hands. “And I love the middle name. Very appropriate.” She nodded. “What about boys?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but the mirth of the moment was broken as Steven stepped over the threshold, looking wan and exhausted. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey.” Elizabeth set Cam on his feet and stood to embrace her brother. “Father Coates said we could have the church on Tuesday, and Nikolas and Emily took care of all the travel. Everyone will be here. Tired, but here.”

“Great. Thanks.” Steven squeezed her to his side. “I was just with Gram’s lawyer. Apparently, she made me executor.”

“Oh. I hadn’t even thought about her estate.” Elizabeth drew away and perched on the edge of the sofa. “What did he say?”

“Well, it’s pretty—well, surprising, honestly.” Steven rubbed his eyes. “Gramps left her with a comfortable living, some nice investments. There’s a bit of an inheritance. And she split it between you and me for the most part. There’s some provisions for Sarah, Dad, TJ, and Uncle Tom, but the bulk goes to us.”

“Makes sense,” Emily said before Elizabeth could protest. “You guys are the ones who are here. Audrey was always fair.”

“And, Bits, you get the house.”

Elizabeth turned back to her brother at that. “What? The—this house?” She looked around at the home her grandparents had shared, the home where she had spent summers. “Gram left me the house?”

“Her estate will go to probate. It’ll be final in a few weeks provided no one contests it, but there’s no reason to. And the deed will go in your name.”

“I don’t—I didn’t know she was going to do that—” Elizabeth swallowed. “We—we should sell it, right? Divide it among all of us—”

“You should keep it, Bits,” Steven cut in gently. “I don’t know what you and Jason have planned, but you should keep the house. I don’t want it, and none of the others deserve anything more than what Gram gave them.”

He kissed her forehead. “I have to get to work, okay? I’m taking Tuesday and Wednesday off, I need to put in the time. You guys okay here?”

When they nodded, Steven left, leaving Elizabeth still a bit stunned. “Jason—she left me the house. I can’t believe it.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“Because you would have told her not to, just like you were about to suggest selling the house.” Emily snorted. “And giving the money to your family. Elizabeth, what are we going to do with you?”

General Hospital: Cafeteria

 Courtney’s spoon clattered to the table as Carly absently reached for a salt shaker, the sleeve of her long shirt riding up as she stretched. “Carly, what happened to your arm?”

Carly blinked and looked down at the bruise. She dropped the salt and hastily drew her arm back, putting it in her lap. “Nothing. I should get back to Sonny—”

“We’re having lunch.” Courtney lifted her chin. “I’ll only follow you if you walk away. What the hell happened, Carly?”

When Carly remained silent, Courtney reached over and dragged Carly’s hand back into view, sliding her sleeve back. Carly struggled, but simply didn’t have the energy to put up any real resistance.

Her arm was covered in several ugly green and purple bruises. In her work at the foundation when she visited shelters, Courtney had seen this type of bruise before.

“Did—” She swallowed hard, her mouth dry as bone. “Did my brother do this?”

Carly yanked her wrist back and looked away, at the table. “He’s sick. You know that. It’s fine.”

Something had been different about Carly since the moment Courtney had arrived the night before—she’d chalked it up to exhaustion, worry, and fear over Sonny’s condition.

But he’d been upgraded to stable just after Courtney’s arrival and Carly had grabbed some sleep—and yet…Carly’s eyes were dull. She was listless, unable to make eye contact.

She wasn’t Carly. There wasn’t an ounce of fight left in her.

And nothing terrified Courtney more.

“Carly, I know he’s ill. He came to me in New York to see a doctor—”

“Elizabeth told me. He’s being treated for depression. I told his attending doctor,” Carly said, her tone oddly flat. “I also told him I thought Sonny should get a psych consult. Because I don’t know if Elizabeth is right, but I don’t think he’s just depressed.”

Courtney exhaled slowly. Carly was finally on board now—they could get through this if she wasn’t working against them. “Good. Good. The doctors will do something, I’m sure of it—”

“What if they don’t?” Carly looked at her. “What if Sonny fools them the way he fooled the doctor in New York? I don’t know what happened on Friday night, Courtney, but he was shot. And Jason hasn’t been here. Jason—he took over. Sonny’s not…” She closed her eyes. “He’s not in power now. And he’s so angry.”

Courtney knew what it must have cost Jason to push Sonny out, but of course it had to be done. Sonny was an unstable mess who couldn’t be trusted with his own children, much less the type of power and control he’d held as head of the organization.

But she’d been doing some reading of her own—and she’d talked to Bobbie who’d conferred with Elizabeth. Everyone agreed Sonny wasn’t just suffering from depression. It had to be something else. The bipolar disorder, maybe.

And if Sonny was manic and thought Jason was taking away his power, his control—

“It’s good that he’s in the hospital,” Courtney murmured. “Jason will be able to—he’ll have a moment to breathe. And he’ll fix this. He always comes through.”

“I want to believe that,” Carly said softly. “Sometimes it’s the only way I can close my eyes at night. But he hasn’t yet. I tried to make myself believe it was because of Evie, because Jason wanted to keep her, but that’s not true, is it?” She waited a moment. “He hasn’t fixed this because he’s like us. None of us know what to do.”

“But we have a common purpose.” Courtney laced her fingers through her sister-in-law’s. “We all love Sonny and want him to be well. He’s in the hospital now. He’ll have a psych consult, and we’ll see what happens then. We’ll make it through this.”

“I wish I could believe that, but I can’t. I’ve been lying to myself for years. I should leave Sonny, you know. I already sent my boys away.” Carly tucked a piece of hair behind her ears. “But I can’t.”

“You can, Carly—”

“Because he’ll be alone,” Carly continued. “And you know he hates that. I used to love him, I think. It’s hard to remember that now, but I tried so very hard to save our life together, so I must have. Or was it just the name?” She blinked at Courtney. “Do you think it was just that I wanted to be Carly Corinthos?”

“Maybe,” Courtney said. “But Carly—”

“I even thought I should turn Sonny against Jason,” Carly interrupted. “I tried to make Sonny think Jason had gone after Evie deliberately—that he’d known about Sam’s trick. Because if Sonny turned against him, he’d take Evie back. And he’d be okay if he had Evie.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “How selfish is that? I sacrificed Jason so I could keep my life. Sonny is so angry at Jason, maybe I did that. Maybe I started it—”

“You can’t blame yourself—”

“Who else?” Carly turned her shattered gaze away. “Sonny and Jason started this lie because I’m selfish. Because I rant, and I rave, and I never think about the consequences of my actions. I told Sonny I would take the boys and destroy him if Evie was his. So Jason lied to save them. And Sonny let it go on because he wanted to be with the boys. If not for Evie, if not for losing her, maybe Sonny wouldn’t have gone over the edge—”

“Carly, no, you cannot think like that. What’s wrong with Sonny has always been wrong with him—” Courtney pushed her tea away. “Anything can trigger an episode. Did the situation with Evie make it worse? Maybe. Probably. But, God, Carly, in that moment, what could you have said? Should you have been thrilled your husband’s mistress was pregnant? He’d had an affair and planned to continue it even while you were back together. He shot you in the head and then resented you during the recovery. My brother was an ass to you. And you dealt with it the best way you could. Does he get the share of the blame? How much is his fault, then?”

A tear slid down Carly’s face. “I just want it to stop. I wanted to believe I could fix it. I wanted to believe I could have another baby, and it would be fine. And then I thought if I could be the reason Evie came to live with us, he would love me again, and it would be okay. And then I thought if I could prove to him I could be trusted with his illness, that I could love him anyway—but nothing can fix him. I can’t fix him.”

“No, you can’t.”

“But I can’t leave him either,” she whispered. “I can’t leave him alone. What might he do if he felt completely alone and isolated? I would never forgive myself.”

“Then we will do whatever we have to do to get him help, Carly,” Courtney told her. “We will put him on the road to recovery if it’s the last thing we do. I promise you. I won’t leave you alone either.”

Warehouse: Jason’s Office

Jason strode into his office, a bit chagrined he was the last to arrive as Bernie, Johnny, Max, and Tommy had already arranged themselves at—he blinked. “Is that a conference table?”

“You hate sitting behind the desk when we report.” He gestured to the head of the table where a seat sat. “This way we’re all comfortable.”

Whatever. Jason took the seat. “Sonny’s condition first—was Stan able to get anything from the records?” he asked Bernie.

“Sonny had a gunshot to the upper chest. It was relatively serious, just due to previous damage. His lung collapsed, which could have been worse if treatment had been delayed. He was operated on, and upgraded to stable condition around eleven last night.” The older man hesitated. “And Carly asked for a psych consult.”

Max brightened. “Yeah? Mrs. C is finally coming around?”

“She told the attending—Dr. Ford—that her husband had been diagnosed with depression and prescribed accordingly. She gave him medication. Carly also told him that his condition seemed to be worsening over the last few months.” Now he was quiet for a moment. “And that Sonny had been abusive.”

Jason lunged to his feet. “What? He hit Carly?”

“Explains why she shipped the boys away,” Johnny said to Tommy. “Vinnie said there’d been an argument and shattered glass, but he’d thought Sonny had smashed another mini bar.”

“There isn’t much more information, Jason, but she merely said his temper was dangerous, and she wasn’t convinced about the diagnosis of depression. Dr. Ford said he’d put in the request, but couldn’t promise anything. They don’t normally do them because a family member asks for it—Sonny has to demonstrate behavior to necessitate it.”

“I’ll call my father,” Jason said tightly. “I can pull strings. Make sure it gets done.” He blinked, belatedly realizing he had referred to Alan Quartermaine as his father, but continued, resuming his seat. “How long will he be in the hospital?”

“A week, maybe more, depending on his recovery time,” Bernie reported. “We’ve got some space, Jason. It’s what we needed. He’ll recover, but if we get a psych consult—maybe we get Sonny under control.”

“What do we know about Junior? Max,” Jason looked to the other man. “Did he go to the girlfriend?”

“He called her,” Max told him. “We had her phones tapped. She went to pick him up at Van Ess and Courtland, then took him home. She’s pretty swift for a civilian. She brought a bag of trash in her backseat, opened the door as if she was going to toss it in a dumpster, and he snuck in while the door was open. If we hadn’t been looking for the pickup, we might have missed it. And she took him home. I don’t know the condition, but he was alive.”

“Did he contact Daddy?” Johnny demanded. “Why didn’t we grab the little punk?”

“We got a bug in the apartment,” Max said with an annoyed glare at his colleague. “Johnny doesn’t want to call his father yet. He’s not an idiot—if he tells Anthony what happened to him, Anthony will come at us with guns blazing. He thought about calling him, but Nadine told him about the rumors. And apparently, Jason, because she’s met you and knows Emily, she trusts you. She wants Johnny to lay low a day or two to get his strength back and reach out to you. He called his father to assure him he was okay.

Jason exhaled slowly, dipping his head. Johnny Zacchara was alive and well, and because he’d had the good fortune to hook up with one of Emily’s co-workers, they were going to have a reprieve. They were going to avoid a war with Anthony Zacchara after all.

“We’ll wait for Junior to reach out to us,” Jason said after a moment. “Keep an eye on them, but we don’t need the bug in the apartment. Give them some privacy. Just keep the phone tap and the watch on the building.”

“Thank fucking God for small miracles,” Johnny said, voicing the relief palpable in the room. “Just think of how this could have gone completely wrong. If Junior didn’t have that contact with you in New York, if Nadine Crowell didn’t know your sister, we’d be fucked nine ways from Sunday. Thank God you hooked up with Elizabeth.”

Jason glared at him. “Johnny. Shut up.” He looked to Tommy. “Give Stefano a call. We know Junior’s been in touch, so we don’t need to give more details. We’re just resolving the situation.” He looked back to Johnny. “You talked to Ramon? Bernie farmed this out to you.”

“I did.” Johnny cracked his knuckles. “I told Ramon that he and his boss better have a damn good reason for Diego Lopez being in our area and going after Anthony Zacchara’s son, and if he didn’t want us to blow up his next shipment, well, then, he’d better give me some damn answers.”

“Real subtle, O’Brien.” Max rolled his eyes.

“And?” Jason prompted.

“And Ramon told me his boss didn’t answer to me or Jason Morgan. Until he was told otherwise, Sonny Corinthos is the head of the organization. He requested some help, Hector supplied it. If we have a damn problem with that, maybe we should solve our own first.”

“He’s got a point,” Tommy said.

“And we’ve resolved it,” Jason said, tightly. “Sonny is under control. Johnny Zacchara is safe. And Johnny, make sure Ramon and Hector Ruiz know otherwise now. Sonny’s not in charge. Tell him if he has any problems with that, he might try finding another route for shipping his guns and other products to Canada. If one more member of his family steps up here without an invitation, we’ll send him home in a body bag.”

“I love when he gets angry,” Max said to Bernie. “He makes you proud to be an American.”

“So things are okay now,” Bernie said. “We can get back to business. Jason, please make sure Elizabeth knows she has our deepest condolences for her grandmother.”

“Yeah.” Jason rubbed his eyes. “But things aren’t okay yet. Until I have Junior in front of me and we can make amends for his troubles, until I know Ruiz and Zacchara aren’t a threat—I can’t pretend we’re at peace. We’re at a stalemate. We’ll see if the psych consult makes any difference. Let’s not pretend things are going to be normal.”

“Normal.” Johnny snorted as he got to his feet. “Sonny’s not in charge anymore. It’ll be fucking Disney World from now on.”

“Johnny. Shut up.”

Nadine’s Apartment: Bedroom

 Johnny leaned back against the pillows. Nadine had patched up the nick in his arm where a bullet had grazed it, he’d taken a long hot shower, and she’d ordered Chinese food.

This was the best he’d felt in weeks.

Nadine bit her lip as she glanced out the curtains. “I feel like I’m harboring a fugitive,” she murmured.

“Hey.” Johnny scowled. “I’m the victim here.” But he knew what she meant—until she could arrange a meeting with Jason Morgan, he wasn’t in the clear.

And he wasn’t as convinced as she was about Jason Morgan’s relative trustworthiness, but he was willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt. After all, Sonny Corinthos had been behind his abduction and beatings. He’d never brought in his number one guy, which made him believe Nadine’s rumors.

If Jason Morgan had sanctioned that operation, he would have been carrying it out—not Sonny.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he told her. “I told you I wasn’t involved in any of this. I wasn’t lying, but—”

“But your last name is still Zacchara.” Nadine let the curtain fall back into place as she turned to him. “You may not work for your father, but you have his name. I get it. I had to leave Ohio because of my sister.”

“Nadine—”

“We can walk away from our family, but we can’t escape it. If I didn’t want to be Jolene Crowell, Angel of Mercy’s sister, I had to go somewhere where her name wasn’t known.” Nadine curled up next to him on the bed. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did fine.” He kissed the top of her head, drawing her closer to him. “My father is not someone you can call on lightly. If you had, he wouldn’t have been kind to Jason or Sonny. And you know, maybe they both suck, maybe only Sonny is the asshole. But they have kids. Families.” He looked at the ceiling. “We’ll talk to Jason in a few days. You’ll need to make the contact—maybe you should track down his fiancée—”

“Her grandmother just died,” Nadine murmured. “The whole hospital is talking about her—she’d been a nurse there for more than forty years—I hate to annoy her right now—”

“But she’s engaged to Jason Morgan. And believe me, if he’s been looking for me, he’ll be glad to set up a meeting. I’m the only thing standing between him and my father.”

“That,” Nadine announced, raising herself up on her elbow and looking at him, “is a sucky place to be.”

“You’re not kidding.”

General Hospital: Sonny’s Room

Sonny turned his eyed, blinking his eyes to clear the blurriness. Where was he? What the hell had happened?

All he could remember was that little shit Johnny Zacchara knocking him to the ground. How the hell had he gotten loose? Had one of the men from Miami turned on him? Loosened the ropes? Had to be that. No one got the drop on Sonny Corinthos.

He blinked to find Carly sitting in a chair to his side, her legs pulled up in front of her as she absently looked towards the doorway. “Carly?” He coughed.

She turned to him, her eyes not changing. “You’re awake,” she said flatly, letting her legs drop to the floor. “I should get Dr. Ford—”

“What happened—” He managed to reach out his hand, to grab her arm. She winced and he let it drop. “Carly—”

“You were shot,” Carly told him in that dull tone. “I don’t know more than that.” She rose to her feet. “I called in a psych consult—”

“What?” Sonny twisted, tried to sit up, but his vision dimmed in front of him, the pain in his chest so fierce. “Damn it—”

“Something has to change, Sonny.” She folded up her sleeve and he frowned at the bruises. Who the hell had touched his wife? “I can’t do it anymore. I sent my boys away to keep them safe, but I want to be with them.”

Keep them safe? “Who did that?” he demanded. He knew those bruises—he’d seen them on his mother more than once. “I’ll kill them—”

“Look in the mirror.” Carly slid her sleeve down. “But we’re both to blame on that score. I stayed. I thought I could do it alone. But I couldn’t.” She looked at him, her dark eyes blank. “If you don’t cooperate with the psych consult, I’ll file for divorce and an order of protection. No judge is going to let you near the boys when I show them these bruises, when Courtney testifies about the threats you’ve made towards Jason—” Her shoulders slumped. “It’s over, Sonny. Something has to change.”

Sonny turned away. He didn’t know what the hell she was babbling about. He was fine. She was playing him, finding an angle. She knew he was planning to take the boys from her, to walk away. She was firing a preemptive strike. Well, fuck her. He was Sonny Corinthos.

Jason had taken his daughter and his organization, and now Carly thought she could take his boys? Use his sister against him?

“You’re right,” he told her evenly. “Something has to change.”

And as soon as he got out of this fucking hospital bed, everything would.

Hardy Home: Elizabeth’s Bedroom

Elizabeth closed her eyes, the tension sliding from her shoulders. “He’s safe? You know this for sure? Johnny Zacchara is okay?”

“We have men on his building.” Jason sat next to her and drew her into his embrace. “We won’t have to worry about Anthony, I got Hector Ruiz to back off, and with Sonny in the hospital—”

“You have a measure of control now.” Elizabeth pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “Oh, God. Jason, I was so scared. So scared you’d find him dead. Do you think he’ll cooperate? Does he know it was Sonny, not you?”

“Looks like his girlfriend convinced him to give us the benefit of the doubt.” He took in the scent of her hair. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I hated not being able to be here for you—”

“You were.” Elizabeth drew back. “Jason—no one could have predicted what happened on Friday—and you were gone only a few hours. You were there when it mattered.” She cupped his cheek. “You were with me when she passed, and you’ve been there every step of the way since. I don’t know how you managed it, but—”

“I delegated,” Jason told her. “And that’s how it’s going to be going forward. I couldn’t put you first that night, Elizabeth. It won’t happen again. I don’t want my life to revolve around what goes on in the warehouse. I want it to be about you, about the kids. About us. I want to be able to travel, to take you and the kids everywhere we ever talked about.”

“Jason—”

“I want you to paint the light in Italy, the mountains in Austria, the water in the Pacific—” He took a deep breath. “And I can do that. I trust Max and Johnny. And Bernie. I mean, there’s still some mopping up. Everything isn’t perfect yet. We don’t know how things are going to shake out with Sonny, but—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I felt alone Friday,” she admitted. “But Nikolas and Emily were there five seconds later. You and I cannot live our lives just for one another. We each have family, friends, and obligations to the outside world. I hated that you had to leave, but Jason, for the first time…For the first time, I could feel that you hated it, too. I know you didn’t want to leave, but I could see that you had, too.”

“I just don’t want you to be sorry you took a chance on me,” he said after a moment. “I know I messed it up last time—”

“And so did I,” Elizabeth said gently. “I should have stayed. I should have screamed at you more. I should have been honest. I should have made you talk to me. We both made mistakes, Jason, because neither of us were ready. I needed to be stronger and you needed to learn how to trust me. We’ve done that. I’m not sorry we didn’t make it last time. We have Cameron, and we have Evie—” She hesitated. “About Evie—”

“I called Diane Miller,” he told her. “And I told her to start the adoption paperwork in November. I’m almost done with my year of guardianship. Sonny will never be stable enough.  I promised Sam I would love Evie and protect her. She’s my daughter.”

“She’s ours.” Elizabeth brushed her lips against his. “And that’s how she’ll stay. Jason, we got through the worst of it. And we’re still standing here. I love you. And I know you love me. Nothing else matters.”

September 17, 2015

So I thought I’d throw this together as a peace offering since this hiatus is lasting longer than I intended. This is some questions I’ve been asked over the years and some others I’m making up. Ha. If you have anything you want to ask, feel free to reply and ask!

You can click the read more button for the interview. I also added the links (finally!) for All We Are, the ebook. All three formats are there.

Continue reading

September 3, 2015

So you might have noticed I didn’t post The Best Thing this week and those of you who read Damaged know that last week’s episode was supremely delayed and that I haven’t put up any teasers for this coming week.

I don’t want to bore you with any of the details except to say I have had a bit of a setback. I was planning to go back to school this year and get my teaching license, but funding fell through at the last minute. (And like seriously, the very last minute. I was due to start classes Tuesday and Friday was kind of the death knell for the whole project.)

It’s actually turning into a major setback and I have to rethink my whole timeline for getting my certificate. There’s also been some turmoil in my family. An in-law lost lost a member of the family, and I’ve been picking up extra baby-sitting shifts for my youngest niece, while baby-sitting an extra ton while my sister starts her classes on schedule (oh, the irony).

Anyway. This is all to say that the last week and a half have basically been a bust for writing. I’ve gotten next to nothing done, and what is done I mostly hate and feel like trashing. This weekend is going to be a bust for any writing — I’m baby-sitting again, shopping for dresses for the wedding, and Labor Day bbq. I’m starting work on Tuesday as scheduled — ugh. It’s just a whole lot of nonsense. I’m tired of it, but you know, life saps creativity from time to time.

I’ll post some scenes from Bittersweet that I’ve trashed — I’ve written several opening scenes and only just found the one I liked, but I won’t be able to use the others. So I’ll post them at some point this weekend as a peace offering.

I’ll post any further updates on my writing on Facebook/Twitter so as not to annoy you guys further here.

August 26, 2015

So first things first: Chapter 28 of The Best Thing has been posted. It’s the first chapter in Part Four of the story, and it’s taking us closer to the end. I’m looking forward to putting this one in the done column.

Second, I’ve been toying with taking a small hiatus when classes begin next week. I think I’ve mentioned how insane my schedule is going to be when I’m in school, then I go back to work the week after, I’m going bridesmaid dress shopping because I’m maid of honor, I have nieces and a nephew to help with because my sister is also starting classes (we’re going to get our teaching license and need some education classes before we can student teach) — and sometimes I might want to just stare at the ceiling.

So I want to give myself a chance to get into that routine and find space for writing without worrying I’ll run out of chapters of The Best Thing or miss a deadline.

So The Best Thing is on hiatus for about two weeks. Damaged will only be one week, because I can finish next week’s episode before I start classes and then we’ll just be gone on September 10.

Damaged is on schedule to be posted this Thursday at 8 PM EST. I posted some preview dialogue snippets over at Damaged and updated the cast list with some guest appearances, so check it out.

Thanks guys!

This entry is part 28 of 34 in the The Best Thing

Part Four: Salvation

Bipolar robs you of that which is you. It can take from you the very core of your being and replace it with something that is completely opposite of who and what you truly are.
– Alyssa Reyans, Letters from a Bipolar Mother


Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cross your heart and say you’ve never given up
That you carried on when every door was shut
That you live, you live with no regret
We wear a smile to hide that we’ve been hurt before
Keep our disasters in a suitcase by the door
Cause you know, you know we’re only human

Broken Ones, Jacquie Mitchell


 Saturday, September 3, 2005

General Hospital: Emergency Room

 She looked so small, standing outside the hospital curtain in a pair of cotton shorts and t-shirt, a coat thrown hastily over her pajamas. Jason thanked the nurse who had helped him fill out the admission form before joining his fiancée.

“Did the doctor say anything yet?” he asked, putting an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. She leaned her head against his shoulders.

“She’s still in there—did you call Nora?”

“I did. She knows we’re not there.” Jason drew her away from the curtain, away from the jumble of voices and their medical jargon. “I called Steven. He’s on his way. And I called my sister.”

“No, Jason—” Elizabeth shook her head. “Emily’s working so much, and she’s pregnant—”

Jason nodded. “I know, but you know she’d be annoyed with you if you didn’t call her. She and Nikolas are on their way.”

“Why?” Elizabeth turned to him, her eyes red, exhausted, her cheeks stained with tears. “Because you think this is it? You think my grandmother is going to die tonight?”

“I—” Jason sighed. “I don’t know. I just—I just want to make sure you have everything you need. I’m sorry, maybe we should have waited for the doctor before I called Emily, but with the launch always taking so long—”

And the annoyance in her eyes died out, like an extinguished candle. “No, no. I know—I do. I want Emily here. I want her to tell me it’ll be okay, and Nikolas and Steven are friends. I want you all here—”

“Elizabeth—I came as soon as I got the call—” Bobbie touched her shoulder, stepping up to them. “Honey, do we know anything yet?”

“No, no, not yet.” Elizabeth turned from Jason’s embrace to hug her old friend. “Thank you for being here, Bobbie.”

“Of course.” Bobbie reached out to squeeze Jason’s hand. “We need to talk, Jason, when you have a moment.” She drew Elizabeth away for a moment. “Is Monica in with her?”

“I called her from the car, she got here at the same time we did,” Jason told her. “We’re just waiting to hear—”

There was an explosion of movement, of shouting just before the door to the emergency room swung open and a stretcher was rolled in, with several paramedics surrounding it—and behind them, Carly rushed in.

Jason blinked and then focused on the gurney. Sonny. Sonny had been shot. He had already taken a step towards the scene when Carly saw him and rushed over.

“You’re here already! Oh, you always come through!” She threw her arms around him and burst into tears. “I don’t know what happened. The police called me—they found Sonny in some dirty warehouse, someone called 911 but didn’t stick around—”

And then Carly drew away, tears glistening on her cheeks as she took in Elizabeth and Bobbie at his side. “Jase? What’s going on? Mama? Elizabeth?”

“My grandmother,” Elizabeth said faintly. “She’s…” She folded her arms across her chest and took a deep breath. “She’s in with the doctors.”

He should stay with her—he had a bad feeling about this, and he wanted to be with her when the worst happened.

But Sonny had been found in a warehouse, left alone. Not Johnny Zacchara. Had he escaped? Had Ruiz’s men deserted him there to die? Had they taken a body with them?

“You should check on Sonny,” Elizabeth said.

Her eyes were tired, her tone resigned. And when Jason looked at her, her expression was unreadable. As if this was merely the first in the long line of disappointments she could expect at his side. God, he hated himself for even considering leaving her with her grandmother on her deathbed.

“The doctors are with him—”

“Jason—” Carly protested.

“—so, I just need to call someone to—” Jason continued.

“But you’ll be thinking about it and worrying.” Elizabeth nodded to the doors of the emergency room. Steven was there, his hair disheveled. “Steven is here. Emily and Nikolas are on their way. I have Bobbie, your mother is taking care of her.” She attempted a smile but failed. “You have a job, Jason. I get it. Go take care of it. I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated, but now wasn’t the time for this conversation. He did have to take care of this, and it should be done personally, but it didn’t make it any easier.

This would be the last time she’d have to make this kind of sacrifice, Jason told himself as he offered a brief greeting to Steven before taking Carly’s arm and directing her away.

Elizabeth deserved better, and he was going to figure out how to give it to her. As soon as he could locate Johnny Zacchara, get Sonny the treatment he needed, he was going make some changes.

General Hospital: Emergency Room

 “Bits, where’s Jason going?”

Elizabeth sighed and turned to her brother. “Something came up at work and it can’t be put off.” She took his arm, winding her own through it. “It’s okay. I have you and Bobbie. Jason called Em and Nikolas—”

Steven looked as though he wanted to argue, but what was the point? Elizabeth had fallen in love with someone who could never make her his first priority one hundred percent of the time. She would have to make do with ninety percent.

And she would. This was a unique situation, she told herself, as she, Steven, and Bobbie sat in the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room, waiting desperately for some good news from Monica.

There would always be problems, always be rivals—she’d been around long enough to know that, but not like this. Not with Sonny putting them in danger, not with so much at stake. Maybe the next time, Jason would be able to delegate it. If he was in charge, he’d need someone to fill the position Jason had once held for Sonny.

It would be okay. They would get through this.

“Bobbie—” Elizabeth looked her suddenly. “You should be with Carly—I didn’t even think—”

“She has Jason,” Bobbie said. “I’m right where I need to be.” Her mouth was set in a thin line. “If I thought Jason would be here, I’d go with her. Elizabeth, I don’t understand—”

“But I do,” Elizabeth cut in gently. “And I don’t love it, but I made my choices. They’re hard, and right now, I hate them. But I made them. There are things only Jason can take care of.”

Steven grunted from her side, but there was nothing either them could say. It was bad timing that things with Sonny would blow up at the same time her grandmother had a health crisis, but this would pass.

Monica stepped out of the curtain, her expression grave. “Steven, Elizabeth.”

Oh, God. Oh, God.

Elizabeth rose, and Bobbie’s hand remained tight in hers as the older man also stood. “Monica—”

“I’m sorry…” Jason’s mother strode forward. “She’s not gone, but…”

“It won’t be long,” Steven said roughly. “A few hours?”

“Maybe.” Monica swiped at her eyes. “We’re moving her to a room and I promise you, we’ll make her as comfortable as possible.” She looked around, and probably wanted to ask about Jason, but mercifully, said nothing.

Elizabeth’s grandmother would be gone by morning, and the last thing she wanted to talk about was Jason.

“I should call Mom and Dad, Sarah.” Steven cleared his throat. “We won’t be able to see her right away, you know.”

“I’ll go to the house,” Bobbie offered. “Get you a change of clothes. Maybe pick up coffee on the way back?” She patted Elizabeth’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

“That sounds fine.” Elizabeth nodded. She sank back into a chair. “I’ll—I’ll wait here for Gram to be moved—”

Steven hesitated. “I can wait to call—”

“I’ll go in a bit,” Bobbie started, but Elizabeth waved them both off. She was fine. She was sad, of course, she told them, but they’d expected this, and Jason would be back in a few minutes.

They accepted her lies, and they both separated, leaving the ER through different doors, leaving Elizabeth alone in the plastic chair, twisting her engagement ring on her finger.

She loved him. She’d made the right choice, but she couldn’t stand it right now.

Emily strode into the ER then, Nikolas on her heels. And it was the concern, the worry in her best friend’s face that did it. Elizabeth took one look at her and crumpled into tears.

She could fall apart now, because Emily and Nikolas would understand. She didn’t need to be strong for them.

Warehouse: Jason’s Office

 Carly had been annoyed when Jason didn’t do more than make sure she had a guard before leaving the hospital. He wanted to put the things he needed to take care of in motion so he could get back to the hospital.

He didn’t think Audrey had a lot of time left, and he wanted to be with Elizabeth. He needed to be there for her, to make sure she understood that he would be there for her the way she’d supported him all these months. She wasn’t making a mistake to be with him and he wanted her to believe that.

“What do we know about the shooting?” Jason demanded. “Bernie?”

“911 call came in, reporting shots fired,” Bernie responded. “By the time paramedics arrived, Sonny was alone, but there were signs of a struggle. Our guy at the PCPD gave me the preliminary police report. A chair was broken, some rope, some cloth that may have been used as a gag—”

“He must have been keeping Junior there,” Max said. “As soon as the cops clear the area, we’ll start our own search. There was some blood on the floor, two casings — one went into Sonny, so maybe the other went wild or Junior was hit.”

“But no evidence that anyone was dragged or removed from the scene,” Bernie continued. “There was a bit of a blood trail leading out the back door, but the cops lost it. Someone walked out of there, bleeding. Maybe it was Junior.”

Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. “Okay. Okay. Sonny is under wraps for the moment. I want a guard stationed at the hospital, but he’ll have an officer on the door so work around that.  I want to reach out to Ramon—ask what the hell Diego Lopez is doing in my territory without an invitation. We can afford to be confrontational now. We have to be. We have to make Ruiz the bad guy if Junior goes home to Anthony.”

“We have the girlfriend under surveillance, but there’s been no contact. If Junior’s hurt, he didn’t go to any of the area hospitals. He still might go to her. She’s a nurse. If we can intercept him there, maybe we can stop him from going to Anthony.” Max shifted. “Jason—”

Jason held up his hand. “Bernie, what’s the status on the new house? I want it up and running by the end of the week.” It would be unlikely they would be moving there any time soon with Audrey’s status, but he wanted it as a backup just in case.

“We’re finishing it up, it’ll be done.” Bernie exchanged a glance with Max. “Ah, Jase, Cody told us Mrs. Hardy is in the hospital—”

“I’m getting back there shortly. I had to deal with this.”  He took a deep breath. “Max, stay on the girlfriend and put men in the field to look at the route between the warehouse and the girlfriend’s. He’ll go there first—she hasn’t seen or heard from him in three weeks, we know it was relatively serious—he’d be an idiot not to check in with her first. Our best chance to hold off Anthony’s wrath is to intercept him there. Bernie, get a hold of Ramon, and get us answers on Diego. And I won’t be needing that meeting after all. I’m not traveling to Miami when Hector Ruiz disrespected me by sending his man into my town without a word. Make that clear.”

He tried to look for another angle—had he covered it all? Was there anything left? “Bernie, get Tommy on the phone with Stefano. Tell him we have a line on Junior’s status. We’re going to throw Ruiz under the bus. Make it look like a frame job. Make sure Zacchara thinks we’re doing all we can up here, but that Ruiz is the culprit. I don’t want him throwing any more support at Sonny.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until we actually know where Junior is?” Bernie asked. “It seems risky—”

“It’s preventative. We don’t know if we’ll be able to intercept the kid. I want Zacchara to know we’re on his side. We might make it through this unscathed if Junior gets home alive.”

“Jason,” Max said. “Johnny and I got this. We can make the necessary moves.”  Jason just looked at him. “We’ve been talking about it—you need some guys to step up. Be your lieutenants. To delegate to. We know your big picture. We can take care of the details. You should be with Elizabeth.”

“That’s right,” Bernie told Jason. “Cody is taking point on security. The kids are safe at the house, Carly’s boys are secure at the Brownstone. We know the priorities. You can trust us.”

“Call me if you find the kid or when Ramon gets back to us about Lopez.” Jason tucked his cell phone in the pocket of his jeans. “I’ll be at the hospital.”

General Hospital: Audrey’s Room

 It was unlikely, Monica had told them, that Audrey would regain consciousness—she wasn’t receiving enough oxygen from her lungs due to the heart problems. Audrey had requested that no measures be taken at this point—no machines to breathe for her—they would never be able to turn them off.

So Audrey would slip away from them at some point, and all they could do was wait.

It had been an hour since Jason had left when Steven roused himself to look at his quiet sister. Emily and Nikolas were outside with Bobbie and Monica. Nikolas had taken on the responsibility of transporting the Hardy-Webber clan from their various points around the planet—if they could get away, Nikolas would make sure they got here.

Only family was allowed to visit in the ICU, and truthfully, Steven wanted a moment alone with his sister.

“You know that I like Jason,” Steven said, breaking the silence. Elizabeth just looked at him before looking at her grandmother. “I do, Bits. I know how happy you’ve been, and how much he loves you. I can see that. I just—” He dipped his head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right.”

“I wish he were here,” Elizabeth murmured, “but if I dwell on it, I’ll start to resent him for things I know he can’t change. Things I told him I could handle. And I can. Jason has been honest with me about the problems he’s having. It’s not his fault Gram’s health suffered at the same time.”

“But—”

“It would be different if Sonny weren’t ill.” She shot him a dark glance. “And I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about his mental health. He’s dangerously unstable, and the problem has just gotten worse this last month. It’s not Jason’s fault, and I’m not going to hold it against him. He can’t be everything to everyone, and I won’t be one more person making demands on him—”

“You’re not one more person—” Steven huffed. “You’re his fiancée. He wants you to marry him—”

“I love you, Steven, I do, but you don’t know what Jason and I have been through these last few years. I hate that he’s not here, okay? I hate it. But I know he hates it, too. And I know he’s doing everything he can to be back here. What do you want me to do? Tell him it’s over because he’s not here? I love him. I know what he’s going through. His life is falling apart, too, Steven. I’m not going to make him feel bad about how he has to handle it.”

Steven sighed. “All right. All right, you’re right. You know your situation. I just—” He shook his head. “I’ve never been there for you the way I should have. I just kept my head down when Mom and Dad harped on you about your grades, about your behavior. I headed out when I went to college, and I never came home. We weren’t as close as we should have been. I wasn’t here for Lucky, for Ric. For the things you’ve been through.”

“I never held it against you,” she said dully. “We do what we have to do. And you’ve been great this last year. I know you love me, that you want the best for me.” She shifted in her chair. “I know what I’m doing, Steven. Jason may not be the choice you would make, that Mom or Dad, or even Gram would make for me, but he’s my choice and I know he’s the right one. I love him.”

“Okay.” And Steven let the conversation drop. There was no point in harping on it, because there was no right answer. Not everything in life was black and white. And while a mobster had never his dream for his baby sister, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried guys who’d walked the straight and narrow. Lucky had been a disaster and Ric—Ric had damaged her self-esteem, her dignity, her soul.

He’d never particularly enjoy having a criminal in the family, but if he treated Elizabeth right, well, Steven could overlook it.

Twenty minutes later, Jason slipped into the room to sit next to Elizabeth. Steven saw the tension in her expression ease—she hadn’t expected him back so fast, or maybe at all. But there he was, holding her hand.

Another hour passed in silence—Bobbie and Emily came in to change out the coffee, to press some food on all of them. Monica said Audrey’s situation hadn’t changed—it wouldn’t be long now, and Nikolas reported that the Webbers were prepared to leave Africa for a few days, that Sarah would be able to fly out for a memorial service if they held it on Tuesday or Wednesday. Uncle Tom would fly in from Georgia, and TJ would be in from Washington.

Just before dawn, Audrey March Hardy drew in her last breath.

Elizabeth rose, her face as pale as chalk, and reached for her grandmother’s limp hand. She pressed a kiss to it before pressing it against her heart. “Be at peace, Gram, and be with Gramps. He’s been waiting for you—and I know he’ll take care of you.” She turned into Jason’s embrace, and started to cry.

Nadine’s Apartment: Living Room

 Nadine set her cell phone down for the seventh time. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and had barely been able to draw in a decent breath since the news had broken the night before.

Sonny Corinthos had been shot and taken to the hospital. The news reported that sources in the PCPD said it had been a struggle, and that another man was believed to have been shot but was currently on the run.

And while Nadine had no reason to believe it, she knew in her heart that Sonny Corinthos had taken Johnny all those weeks ago—and that he’d been the other man.

He’d been shot and he’d disappeared.

What if he’d fallen into the lake? What if he passed out? What if he had died? Oh, God, would anyone even bother to come tell her? Would she never know?

She should call Johnny’s father. He would know. He could tell her. She could trust him now. Johnny told her that if anything happened to him, if Nadine knew for certain, then she should call Anthony Zacchara. Anthony was ruthless, but he would protect her.

But maybe she could try Jason Morgan. She’d read the papers—she knew the gossip. Jason had taken over for Sonny, though no one could say how they knew it. Maybe Jason could tell her where Johnny was.

Her cell lit up with an unidentified number, but she scrambled to answer it. “Hello?”

“Nadine?”

Oh, God. His voice. “Johnny, thank God, thank God. Where are you? I’ll come to you. I’m so glad you’re okay, I was scared, I didn’t call your father, but I was going to, but I just didn’t know if I should—where are you?”

And like always, Johnny patiently waited out her rambles. “I’m at a payphone near Van Ness and Courtland. I need—” He coughed. “I need you to come get me. I was afraid to show up at your place, I thought they’d be watching, but maybe you could come here and I could sneak in your car.”

“We’ll make it work. I’m coming to get you. Stay right there.”

She hung up the phone and burst into tears. He was okay. She could do anything now she knew he was okay.

Nadine wiped at her eyes after a moment and reached for her keys. She had a rescue operation to put into action.

August 22, 2015

So it’s been about six or seven weeks since the last update. I wanted to give you guys some concept of how we’re going to go forward into the fall since I’ll be juggling five classes and a part-time work schedule (and baby-sitting nieces and nephews!)

Site Features

1. I want to add a new sort feature that will give better ideas on length. If you want a full-length novel (more than 50,000 words), you’ll be able to find that. If you want something shorter, you can go to novellas, which will range from 15,000 to 50,000 words. Everything else will be in that short story, ficlet range where it already exists.

I had contemplated reoganizing the site and moving stories around to reflect this change. For example, a story like Spinning On An Axis which has always been located in the Alternate History section would move to the novellas area, because it’s about 32,000 words long. But instead, I’ll just tag it with the word “novella” the way I would tag it with a character or couple featured, so if you wanted something that was mid-sized, you could get it.

Adding this feature may seem like a waste of time, but sometimes the chapter length doesn’t give you an accurate idea of how long something is. For example, Spinning is 15 chapters long. Shadows is only three parts, but it’s 20,000 words. You’ll have a better idea of what you’re getting yourself into.

2. On the subject of adding more usefulness to the sort features, I want to start working on adding summaries to the Sort By Title page. I think that this is probably the most visited page in that section, and while I do list where the story is located, it still doesn’t give you enough information to decide whether you want to read it. This is going to be kind of time-consuming, so I’ll be working on it on and off in a separate file. There are around 100 stories listed on the site at the moment.

3. I need to be better with ebook releases. I still haven’t added All We Are, even though the ebook for that is finished. It needs to be converted into two other formats. But I’ve been meaning to set aside one day a month to do ebooks so I can do a new release every month. I hope to fix that going forward, but we’ll see.

Those are the major site changes I’m planning. They go along with the normal stuff — I’m working on a fall layout, but it’s taking longer than I expected since I’m rewriting the WordPress theme code to better reflect everything I’ve learned.

Story Status

The Best Thing – So I’ve finished writing through Chapter 30. I’ve planned and storyboarded through Chapter 35, which with the addition of an epilogue, will complete the story. I’ve tentatively scheduled myself to finish the last five chapters this weekend and part of next week, but definitely by September 1. I’ll continue posting once week to give me a finish date (projected) of October 10.

Damaged – I have done a ton of work on this story this last week and have planned the major storylines through the end of Season 2 and Season 3, with some tentative work on Season 4. At the moment, there’s no plans to go beyond Season 4. I may do a wrap up Season 5 depending on how things unfold as I continue writing.

If everything continues to go to plan, Season 2 will finish on October 8. I’m not positive about when Season 3 will premiere. I took a month off between seasons last time, but it wasn’t enough time, to be honest. I’m thinking a premiere date of December 1 would be the best bet, but it might move up depending on how things move along.

For example, I’ll be finishing The Best Thing by September 1, so while I’ll be working on the next story, I might take the opportunity to write two episodes of Damaged a week. If I can finish writing the season sooner than October 8, I’d feel more comfortable bringing it back in early November.

I can’t make any promises since I don’t know how heavy my schedule will be.

Bittersweet – Because I’ve been concentrating on completing The Best Thing by September 1 and Damaged Season 2 by September 15, I’ve pushed Bittersweet to the back burner a bit. It’s the still the next story I’m working on, but I’m glad I decided not to start posting it this week. I’ms still looking at a mid-September, early October launch. I should know by the time I finish writing The Best Thing.

Other Stories

Up Next: Burn in Heaven, Mad World, and Feels Like Home are all on the roster to be written next. I know I’ve been saying this for a year, haha, but as I remarked before, I’ve been burnt out on writing Liason 2004-08 just due to the elements that have to be dealt with. I have no problem writing Sam and Courtney, I’m just tired of writing the baggage, and all three of these stories incorporate it to a certain extent. So I’ll be taing a break to work on Bittersweet, then coming back to these three projects.

These Small Hours – This story is still on my radar, make no mistakes about it. I’m eager to get back into it, but the outline is coming out right because it’s more ensemble than I had anticipated in the initial outlines. It was originally going to be straight Johnny and Nadine with Jason and Elizabeth as supporting characters, but I underestimated how much I would have to deal with Sonny and Kate, and when you deal with them, you have to deal with Jason and Elizabeth more.

So I’m trying to shift it so that it’s written more like The Best Thing, only in reverse with Jason and Elizabeth as the semi-main characters but it being Johnny and Nadine’s story. TBT has Jason and Elizabeth as the main characters with Sonny/Carly and Nikolas/Emily, with some Steven thrown in for good measure. Like Sonny and Carly, the Liason subplot will be fully fleshed out, but won’t steal the focus. That’s if I can make the outline behave.

Counting Stars – I’ve been tempted to sit down and just write this story because it’ll be less than a full novella. It’s kind of like All We Are with an even more narrow focus and less twists and turns. I could probably write it in about a week if I had no other distracts, and doing that and posting it would give me more space to work on more intensive story.

Any other stories not mentioned remain on the drawing board. 🙂

This entry is part 27 of 34 in the The Best Thing

If terror falls upon your bed
And sleep no longer comes
Remember all the words I said
Be still, be still, and know

Be Still, The Fray


Friday, September 2, 2005

Hardy Home: Living Room

 “Do you need another pillow, Gram?” Elizabeth asked as she set a cup of tea on the table next to her grandmother.

“I’m fine, darling.” Audrey pressed a hand on her granddaughter’s arm. “Sit with me for a moment.” Elizabeth bit her lip, but settled herself gingerly on the sofa next to her.

She was so tired these days and nearly ready for the end—but every morning she woke, it was a blessing. Audrey was prepared to go, but her heart broke knowing the turmoil she would leave her beloved grandchildren with.

“I always wanted a daughter,” Audrey said softly. Her hands felt thin, even cold, as she took Elizabeth’s much warmer ones within her own. “Did I tell you that?”

“No.” Elizabeth smiled at her. “Though I guess I thought you and Gramps might have wanted more children.”

“Ah, well, we were blessed in you, in Sarah, Steven…” She bit her lip. “And for a while, TJ, though once Tom and Simone divorced, we never did see as much as him as we’d liked. Maybe I ought to have fussed more, but it wasn’t—” Audrey blinked now, the tears stinging for the lost years with her only son, with the only continuation of her own blood line.

But here, in her beloved Elizabeth and Steven, here was the real Hardy lineage. Oh, how proud Steve would have been of these two. “When you and Sarah came to live here, I know it was rocky. And I know we did not always see eye to eye.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” Elizabeth said with a quick smile. “I was a terror, Gram—”

And how like her granddaughter to take the blame, as if Audrey hadn’t had a hand in any of it. She should have insisted Jeff and Andrea send her both girls, instead of only the one. Elizabeth had felt unwanted, unloved left in Colorado. And she’d always been compared to Sarah, always found wanting.

“You were a teenager, my love.” Audrey smiled at her. “I like to think we muddled through it the best we could. I made so many mistakes, I said so many things—I would do anything to take them back—”

“Gram, no…” Elizabeth squeezed her grandmother’s hands. “No, no. Listen, I am who I am today because of the choices I made, because of the people I had in my life. I like who I am now. I have my little boy, I have Evie, and Jason. I love my family, I wouldn’t be here without my choices. And you…” A tear slid down her cheek. “You challenged me to always be better—”

What a kind way to say Audrey had always stood in judgment, in moral superiority—as if Audrey herself had never made a single mistake. “I love Steven and Sarah, but you…” she managed to reach a hand out and cup Elizabeth’s chin. “You are more than just my granddaughter. I am humbled by the courage you’ve shown in your life. So many times, my dear, you have been knocked down, you’ve stumbled—but you’ve never let it get the best of you.”

“Gram—”

“Your grandfather adored you, you know that?” Audrey said. “He always said you would prove all the naysayers wrong. Audrey, he would tell me, the boy is wrong for being upset at our Lizzie’s science grades. She’s a dreamer, not a doctor. We need more dreamers.”

“I never—” Elizabeth’s voice shook. “I never knew that.”

“Oh, yes. He knew Steven and Sarah would go on to be doctors—and he loved them for it, but he said the world needed more dreamers. Doctors—they heal wounds, but dreamers—they heal the mind. He loved your scribbles, your doodles.” She paused, taking as deep a breath as she could manage. “When I saw your beautiful work in New York, I knew your grandfather was with me. Do you know what he would have said if he were there?”

“What?” Elizabeth asked.

“Audrey, see? I was right. Our little Lizzie’s a dreamer with a beautiful view of the world. I have to see people as they are so I can fix them, but my Lizzie, oh, she sees them as they could be. The potential in them. She’ll make the world a better place.”

“I wish he’d been there.” Another tear slid down her granddaughter’s cheeks. Then another. “When he died, I wanted to die with him, Gram. I used to think I was a changeling, you know? Switched at birth, but Gramps always made me feel like I belonged. Like it was okay to be me.”

“I know.” Audrey let her hand fall back to her lap, exhausted by the effort. “I failed in that—” When Elizabeth shook her head, “I did, Elizabeth. Don’t let me off the hook. I judged you. I tried to force you into a mold. I—I tried to make you feel ashamed of who you were, of who you loved.”

“You were trying to protect me—”

“I know things are difficult for you right now. For Jason. I don’t pretend to have the answers, but I see the guards. I see the tension, you can feel it when Jason comes home. And you’re not living here just to be with me.”

“Gram—”

“When everything feels as though it’s falling apart,” Audrey told her, “that’s when it’s most important to hold on to each other. I want to be here for you, for Steven. I want to see Cam and Evie grow up, I want to see my Steven humbled by love. I want to be there when you get married—” Her chest tightened. “But I won’t. Not in body. I know I don’t have much time left, my love—”

“Gram—”

“But I will always be with you,” she continued over Elizabeth’s protests. “Just as your grandfather is always with you. You have his eyes, his kindness. His strength. And I like to think you have my stubborn nature, my determination to show the world it couldn’t break me. It never did, and it will not break you.” She pressed a hand to Elizabeth’s cheek. “I believe in you, my dreamer, my Elizabeth. And if you hold on to your children, to Jason, to your family, you will make it through anything.”

“I love you so much, Gram.” Elizabeth swallowed hard. “And I am so grateful I broke the rules and came here. I could not imagine my life anywhere else, with anyone else. And I want to be you when I grow up.”

“Darling…” Audrey smiled, but did not continue. Elizabeth was already better than Audrey had ever hoped to be. She patted Elizabeth’s cheek once more. “Shall we turn on the soaps? I’m curious to see what Erica Kane is up to today.”

Warehouse: Jason’s Office

 Jason put his head in his hands and drew in a deep breath. “Hector Ruiz.”

“I’m sorry, Jason.” Bernie shifted in his chair and glanced at Max. “But he put his top lieutenant on a flight to Port Charles two weeks ago. Stan found the flight records. I put Johnny on tracking him, but for now, we know Diego Lopez is here, under the radar and has been since Sonny dismissed Tommy’s crew.”

He hadn’t quite proved that Sonny was working with the Ruiz organization, but the evidence was certainly damning. And the only thing that would make this situation worse would be discovering Johnny Zacchara’s body.

A fight on two fronts with Ruiz and Zacchara. The nightmare scenario he’d been trying to avoid.

“Max—”

“Carly sent the boys to stay with Bobbie yesterday,” the former guard interrupted. “I don’t know why—Rocco and Vinnie are at the Brownstone, I talked to them, but all they know is there was some sort of argument, some sort of blow up, and Carly packed the boys off.”

Jason raised his head and frowned. “What about Carly? Did she leave, too?” Could she finally be coming around?

“No, she stayed. I don’t know that Bobbie even got an explanation,” Max continued. “I talked to her, though, and strengthened security. We’re upgrading her alarm system, checked over the exits, but the place is a nightmare. She still rents out the top floors, and there’s those tenants.”

“Do what you can for now.” Jason rubbed his eyes. At least Michael and Morgan were temporarily out of the line of fire. Maybe Courtney had made some progress since her visit two weeks ago.

Nothing else good had happened since Jason had assumed full control a week ago. Max and his crew were tearing apart the city looking for Johnny Zacchara, Tommy was trying to stall Stefano as Junior’s absence was starting to become more concerning for his father, Johnny was attempting to run business as usual and rebuild the warehouse—

And Sonny had gone radio silent. Jason no longer tried to contact his former partner, and Sonny had not sought him out.

“The girlfriend?” Max said. “She’s acting off. We don’t know much about her, but Stan pulled her personnel file from the hospital. She used to have relatively good reports—well-liked, efficient, but Nadine Crowell now has several reprimands. Being late, being distracted—she’s on thin ice. And all the bad reports start around Junior’s disappearance. She hasn’t gone to the police or Anthony, though.”

“Junior must have warned her about going to him for help,” Bernie said. “Jason—”

“He’s been missing now for nearly three weeks,” Jason interrupted. “We have to start figuring out what we do next. I can’t—” He exhaled. “I can’t keep putting my head in the sand and pretending we’ll magically find the kid alive. At this point, if Junior survives, he has a legitimate grudge against the organization. He’d have every right to go to his father and demand retribution.”

“If we could nab him first—” Max started.

“It doesn’t matter. We have to cut Sonny off at the knees. He’s using Hector Ruiz to go after the Zaccharas. Maybe there’s something there.” Jason hesitated. “If we were the ones to go to Zacchara—”

“That is fucking suicide,” Max cut in, sharply. He rose to his feet. “No way in hell, Jason. We can’t tell Anthony Zacchara that Sonny snatched his kid three weeks ago—he’ll take it out on us just to be contrary—”

“Maybe not,” Bernie interjected. “Trevor Lansing has a lot of influence with Anthony, and we all know he hates Sonny. We could turn that to our advantage, don’t you think?”

“Maybe we leave Anthony out of it,” Jason said. “I could take a meeting with Hector and make it clear that I’m willing to go to Anthony. If Hector thinks Anthony will come for him—and he will—he might give up Diego Lopez’s location to save his skin. We’re in contact with the Zaccharas. We know Hector’s involved.”

“He could call your bluff, go to Anthony himself, and blame it on you,” Bernie told him. “There’s a lot of ways this could go wrong, Jason—”

“Can we keep sitting around? We’ve tried everything else. I’ve tried to reason with Sonny, we’ve tried tailing him, we’ve torn the city apart to look for the kid—” Jason shook his head. “I don’t see any other options. I have to go to Anthony or Hector.  If I go to Hector, I have a prayer to get Junior home alive.”

“And it’s his sons that are the animals,” Max reminded the business manager. “We should thank our lucky fucking stars Javier and Manny aren’t on the ground up here. Hector can still be reasoned with to a certain extent. It’s worth a try, Jason.”

“I’ll call Ramon and request a meeting.” Bernie stood. “Ah, should I ask Hector to come to Port Charles or will you make the trip to Miami?”

Jason hesitated. He couldn’t go to Miami. Not now. Audrey could go any moment and he would never forgive himself if he were away—

But asking Hector Ruiz to come to him was a sign of disrespect. If Jason was requesting the meeting, it was customary for him to go to the other party. It was just how things were done.

“Two more days,” Max said, almost kindly. “Give me two more days to find Junior. You should talk this over with Elizabeth. You know if you take this meeting, you have to go to him. And you know she’ll understand.”

“She shouldn’t have to,” Jason muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. But Max was right. Elizabeth would see the bigger picture—he’d be gone half a day at most. “Monday morning, if nothing has changed, we’ll call Ramon and set up the meeting.” He rose to his feet. “But I’m done sitting around. If Hector sent Diego, he might send one of the boys next. And if you think a turf war with Anthony Zacchara is a nightmare, toss in the Ruiz boys—”

Bernie visibly shuddered. “I’ll throw myself into the lake,” he muttered. “Save them the trouble.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

“Carly, I want you to come to the Brownstone with me.”

Her mother sat across from her, concern practically oozing from every pore, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

“I can’t.” Carly stirred her ice tea idly. “But thank you for taking the boys, I hope it’s just temporary—”

“Carly…” Bobbie leaned forward, pushing her untouched bowl of chili to the side. “Courtney and I are very worried. I haven’t seen Sonny, but Courtney has and she was almost…I’d say she was terrified. For you, the boys, for Jason and Elizabeth—”

“She’s overreacting.”

She wasn’t, but Carly wasn’t going to admit that. How could she admit she’d gotten it all so very wrong? She’d thought by showing Sonny she could be trusted—that she didn’t believe he was crazy, he would come back to her.

She’d shown him the pamphlets Elizabeth had given her, proclaiming her belief that whatever Sonny’s doctor had told him must be correct. After all, he was the one with the degree—the one Sonny had actually spoken with. Elizabeth Webber was nothing more a waif with an overactive imagination. What the hell did she know about someone’s mind?

But his reaction had chilled her to the bone. He’d grabbed her, shook her, demanding to know where she’d gotten these pamphlets.

“Did Jason give them to you? Did he? That son of a bitch—I made him!”

 Carly shook her head, frantically, trying to get away from him. “No, no, Jason wouldn’t—Sonny, you’re hurting me—”

 “He thinks he’s got the power? He thinks he can beat me? I’ll destroy him—”

And then he’d tossed Carly aside, like a rag doll. She’d hit the mini bar on her way to the floor as Sonny stormed out of the room. Glass had shattered, and she had several cuts.

She should have called Jason then. She knew that. She should have believed Elizabeth.  But instead, Carly had stood up, grateful the boys were out with Courtney for the day. She had cleaned her cuts, swept up the glass, and calmly packed a bag for all of them.

It had been her intention to go, to leave, but Sonny had seen her leaving. And he’d told her what he would do to her if she walked away from him.

“No one takes my boys.” He twisted her arm, the already sore muscles protesting. “You think you can take what’s mine? You’re mine, they’re mine. No one leaves.”

So she’d stayed. She’d given the bags to Vinnie, told Courtney to take the boys to the Brownstone, and she’d stayed.

For now, Sonny believed they were visiting for a few days—it was closer to Michael’s summer camp, Carly had told him when he’d finally realized two days later the boys were gone. And Lucas was away at soccer camp in Vermont—her mother was so lonely.

And Sonny had agreed with a smile. He’d asked what’d happened to the minibar—because he didn’t remember their argument. Didn’t remember the bruises, the way he’d hurt her.

He’d apologized for how difficult things had been lately. His problems with Jason had spilled over, but he wanted to do better. He’d told her about his depression then, as if they’d never spoken of it before.

Now Carly honestly didn’t know what to do. How could she leave him when he was so desperately ill? How could she keep clinging to the belief that if only Jason hadn’t kept Evie, none of this would be happening?

Sonny needed her. He deserved someone who loved him to stick by him, not like Jason and Courtney who just wanted to put him away, to medicate him. To take away everything he loved.

“Carly?” Bobbie said. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.” Carly set her spoon down. “I am. I know Sonny is ill. And I know Courtney is concerned. I’m dealing with it.” She rubbed her arm, where a large dark purple bruise lay beneath the long sleeves. “He needs to adjust his treatment, but it’s hard to bring that up when he’s having problems with Jason. I’m not stupid, Mama. The boys are better off with you for now, and Evie is better off with Jason at the moment. Sonny is…”

Out of control. Beyond her ability to help. Oh, God, how did she get herself into this? How could she make it go away? Would he hurt her again?

How could she leave him? He’d be alone. He hated being alone.

“Sonny isn’t himself,” Carly said finally. “If I could make his problems with Jason better, I think it would help.”

“Carly, I’m not sure you can help Sonny right now. Please—”

“The boys don’t need to see his mood swings,” Carly interrupted. “They’ll just be upset, and I don’t want that for them. I can deal with it.”

Tell me I’m wrong, Mama. Make me stop. Force me to come with you. Oh, God. I don’t want to go back there. I don’t know what to do.

“My home is always open to you, Carly,” Bobbie told her. “But maybe you’re right. And Jason and Sonny will come around—they always do.”

Yes. Yes. She could cling to that. Jason and Sonny had always muddled through their problems, had always fixed what was wrong. She just had to hold strong, keep Sonny from falling completely over the edge until Jason fixed things. He always fixed things.

She could depend on Jason. He had never let her down.

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

 Nadine hesitated in front of the nurse’s station, studying the brunette intern scowling at the back of Dr. Patrick Drake’s head as the resident waited for the elevator.

It had been three weeks since Johnny had left her apartment, since he had called. Since his phone had gone dead. She hadn’t contacted the police, hadn’t called his family.

She didn’t know what was going on, but the last thing she wanted to do was make the situation worse. And if something had happened to Johnny, calling his father would make everything worse. She knew that.

And yet, it had been three weeks. Someone had to do something.

Nadine stepped up to the counter. “Emily, can I ask you a question?”

Emily glanced up. “Hey, Nadine. What’s up?”

“Um…” She shifted. “Your brother is Jason Morgan, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Emily set her pen down, her dark eyes concerned. “Nadine, is something wrong?  You’ve been so distracted lately—”

“I know.” Nadine looked away and saw Epiphany Johnson, the charge nurse, eying her with the usual stink eye. “Listen, if I—if I needed to talk to your brother about something, I could—I could trust him, couldn’t I?”

And it was to Emily’s credit that she didn’t ask why someone who had never spoken to her brother and wasn’t particularly close to Emily, was asking this question. She nodded. “Jason is the best person I know, and he’ll be there to help you. If you needed to talk to him.” She reached across the counter to place her hand over Nadine’s. “Call me, Nadine. And I’ll make sure you get in to see him, okay?”

“Thanks. I need to go before Epiphany throws me out the window.”

Hardy Home: Elizabeth’s Bedroom

 Elizabeth set aside her sketchbook when Jason opened the door. “You’re later than you thought you’d be,” she murmured as she sat up in bed. He sighed and sat on the chair to pull off his shoes.

“I…” He hesitated. “I have to talk to you about something.”

“That sounds ominous.” She pushed aside the thin blanket and rose from the bed. “What’s up? Did something happen?”

“It’s more what didn’t happen.” He pulled a pair of sweat pants from a dresser drawer and set them on top of the dresser. “I know we haven’t talked much about what’s been going on—not since we moved in. It’s not because I’m keeping things from you—” Jason turned. “It’s just—there’s no change.”

“I don’t need an itinerary of your day, Jason.” Elizabeth folded her arms across her chest. “I just need the big picture details. Don’t apologize, just tell me what’s going on.”

“Sonny—” He exhaled. Jason briefly explained Sonny’s involvement with the Ruiz organization and their plan to cut off a turf war. Elizabeth listened closely, but didn’t really see what it had to do with her.

“It sounds like your best bet, I don’t know what—” She hesitated. “Ruiz. That’s the one in Miami.” Elizabeth swallowed. “You’d have to meet him down there. That’s the way these things work.”

I’m the one asking for the meeting. If it were Tagliatti or Vega, I might be able to make them understand I don’t want to be away right now. Not even half a day.” Jason waited a moment. “But Ruiz is different. I have to be careful with him—”

“When do you leave?” Elizabeth murmured. “How soon?”

“I don’t want to go,” Jason told her. “Max is taking the weekend—one last effort to find Junior. If I could be assured I don’t have to deal with Zacchara—” He dipped his head. “But Bernie’s going to contact our guy in Miami on Monday morning, so maybe that afternoon. Tuesday, I don’t know yet.” He looked at her. “Elizabeth, if there was another way—”

“But there’s not.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. Resentment was wasted here. She’d walked into this with her eyes wide open and Jason had been brutally honest with her. He was in charge now, he couldn’t delegate this. She understood.

“Elizabeth—”

“What matters to me most of all,” Elizabeth cut in, “is that everyone stays safe. And if you have to go to Miami to make that happen, Jason, then you’ll have to do it.” She nodded. “It’s okay. Thank you for—thank you for waiting. I know you could have done it this weekend and called me from the plane—”

“I wouldn’t have—”

“But you didn’t.” He’d made her part of it, taken the time and effort to keep her in the loop. This wasn’t like last time. It was crappy timing, but it had to be done. “Jason, I understand, and I’m okay with it. It doesn’t make me the happiest woman in the world, but I love you, and this is just something that has to happen.” She took a deep breath. “I have Emily, Steven, and Nikolas. And Monica and Bobbie, if I need it.” She offered a hesitant smile. “Maybe—maybe I won’t need it.”

“Maybe.” He touched her shoulder, sliding his hand down to her elbow. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” But when he reached for her, she drew back slightly. “I just want to check on my grandmother before we go to bed, okay?”

She didn’t wait for his response, but instead, left the room and went down the hall to the room where her grandmother slept. She was okay. She could handle this. She didn’t have to like it, but she could handle it.

Elizabeth pushed her grandmother’s door open and stepped over the threshold. “Gram? What’s wrong?”

Audrey was sitting up in bed, her hand pressed to her chest. “I—I can’t—catch—” Her face was red, her shoulders rising rapidly. “Eliz—”

“Don’t talk, Gram.” She raised her voice. “Jason! Help!”

She was at her grandmother’s side, reaching for the phone when Jason arrived. He took Audrey’s pulse. “Mrs. Hardy,” he told her, “we could wait for the ambulance, or I could carry you down to the car and we can be at the hospital in ten minutes.” He looked at her. “Do you want to wait?”

She shook her head. “N-No—”

Elizabeth watched as Jason carefully lifted her frail grandmother into his arms and started for the door. “I’ll get my purse. I need to call Steven—”

Less than two minutes later, their SUV was speeding through the darkened streets.

Warehouse

 Johnny Zacchara had reached the point where death would be a blessing. Everything hurt. He couldn’t distinguish his own smell from his surroundings, which annoyed him more than anything else. He’d been bound and gagged for days. Weeks. He had water poured down his throat once a day and some bread. Water and fucking bread.

He wanted a glass of merlot and some fucking caviar if he survived this.

But even the water and bread had started to taste like a five course meal. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his piano, Nadine’s smile, hell, he’d like to see his father one more time, his sister.

He’d settle for goddamn Trevor at this point.

A door creaked open and footsteps came closer. “Still holding out, I see.”

Exhausted, Johnny lifted his head and listened intently. One set of footsteps. The door had closed behind him. And the voice belonged to Sonny Corinthos. He was alone. For the first time, the fucking lunatic was by himself. His gag was removed, but his blindfold remained.

Could he do something with that?

“I didn’t burn down your warehouse,” Johnny bit out. “And if you kill me, my father—”

“Maybe you don’t give a damn about your own life.” A hand yanked Johnny’s head back by grabbing his hair. “Maybe I’m using the wrong leverage.”

Sonny’s voice was close now, his breath warm on Johnny’s face. “Maybe if you had some company—you have a sweet girlfriend, don’t you?”

No. No, no, no. If Sonny knew about Nadine, he could do this to her. And Johnny would admit to anything to keep them from touching her. He’d die, but they’d probably kill her, too. He had no illusions left.

He had to protect her.

And with a strength Johnny didn’t know was left, he twisted his head out of Sonny’s grip and rocked the chair backwards. He and Sonny both went crashing to the floor—

And chair shattered, allowing Johnny to get to his feet. They’d been bound to the chair, but not together. He still didn’t have his sight or use of his hands, but damn it, he could run.

He kicked out at where he thought Sonny might be and was relieved to hear the older man crash back to the floor. Johnny rushed forward, wincing when he crashed into the wall. Frantically, he rubbed his face against the cement, trying to loosen his blindfold.

And finally, it slipped around his neck. Johnny could see! And the ropes at his wrist—they were loose.

Within a few seconds, by the time Sonny had managed to get back to his feet, Johnny Zacchara was a free man. He rushed at the older man, his eyes on the gun at his waistband.

Johnny tackled Sonny to the floor again and grappled for the gun. He managed to get a grip on it, but then a searing pain shot through his shoulder.

Sonny also had a grip on his the gun and had managed to pull the trigger.

Fucking hell. With his last ounce of strength, Johnny head butted Sonny and got control of the weapon. He stood and shot blindly in Sonny’s direction, but he could hear voices rushing towards the room, footsteps clattering.

He ran for the back door, not caring if Sonny was dead or alive. He had to escape. He had to get home, to get help.

He disappeared into the inky dark Port Charles night.

August 14, 2015

Damaged was updated last night — I’m moving updates of that to Thursdays at 8 PM EST. This week’s episode was split into two parts (each about the average length of a suuuper long The Best Thing chapter — so like 15 pages.) Head over there to read it. I’ll be back next Wednesday with more updates.

August 12, 2015

So The Best Thing has been updated with Chapter Twenty-Six. It hasn’t been beta read, but I’ve using a text to speech program on my computer to read Damaged‘s dialogue to me (more on that on Friday), so I ran it through there and found a bunch of typos and a couple of sentences to fix. I’ll make any other changes when I hear from Cora 🙂

I posted a short story last night, A Line in the Sand, if you missed it. I haven’t had a moment to add it throughout the rest of the site, I hope to get it done today buuuut I’m going to go finish Damaged now and I think that’s a better priority, yes?

And I created a new survey. Not about the site, which though I’m sure you guys found boring — I think it helped clean up the site a lot and offer a few more features I think helped streamline the CG experience. 😛 This one is about the stories here at CG. What do you like to read? What you would like to read more about? Etc.

I created it because while I write for me, I want to write for you guys, too. So if you have a minute, it’s short — only a few questions.