Please note this is the beta draft. None of these scenes are guaranteed to be in the final draft in this form, in this chapter, or in this order. Thanks!
Chapter 33
The sky glows
I see it shining when my eyes close
I hear your warnings but we both know
I’m gonna look at it again
Don’t wait, don’t wait
The road is now a sudden sea
And suddenly, you’re deep enough
To let your armor down
– Don’t Wait, Dashboard Confessional
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Nadine’s Apartment: Bedroom
Nadine gingerly tugged open a dresser drawer, retrieved the clothes she wanted, then tried to close it as quietly as she’d opened it, glancing over her shoulder to see if any of her actions had disturbed Johnny.
But he was exactly as he’d been since she’d awakened two hours earlier — sprawled across one side of the double bed, laying on his stomach—still sleeping. Her nose twitched at that — she’d been awake at the first light and had already gone jogging, had a cup of coffee, showered and was retrieving everything she’d need for her shift that day — the last day in her five-day rotation.
Nadine crept out of the bedroom, pulled the door closed, then changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before looking through the fridge for something quick for breakfast. The first week of their marriage had gone relatively well, she thought — mostly because they only interacted for a few hours a day. She worked all day, and he slept through the morning. When she got home, it was usually some dinner, arguing over what to watch on television, and then going to bed.
And the bed part was still a terrible idea, Nadine thought, sliding the bagel slices in the toaster. Every time, she told herself that she really needed to be firmer in that whole let’s not complicate this thing—but it was nice, Nadine thought, to have company, and she could finally acknowledge that she’d been a little lonely since moving to Port Charles.
Eventually they’d start irritating each other — she’d be off for a few days, and they’d have to figure out what to do with themselves without work to break up the monotony.
But for right now, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to have someone to come home to, and she decided to enjoy it for as long it lasted.
Coffee House: Office
Jason scrawled his name at the bottom of a contract, then shoved it across the desk at Diane, his attention already moving to Cody who had waited somewhat impatiently to finish the meeting.
“This should be the last of what the city needs to issue the permits,” Diane told him, sliding the paperwork into her bag. “But if it’s not—”
“I’m not having one more meeting,” Jason said with a scowl. “No more politicians, Diane. That’s the end of it—”
“You have made yourself entirely too clear,” Diane said, but Jason didn’t miss the roll of her eyes as she turned away. “Good luck with him, he’s in a rotten mood.”
“I’ll keep that in mind—” Cody watched the lawyer exit, pulling the door closed behind her, then looked back to Jason. “Are you really in the bad mood or did that stack of contracts put you in one?”
“The council keeps putting up roadblocks. Every time she comes here, it’s another problem—” Jason shook his head, tossed the pencil aside. “But I don’t have a lot of time,” he told his lieutenant, glancing at the clock. “So I hope you don’t have bad news.”
“I don’t, just an update from our guy at the PCPD and I confirmed it with your friend in the DEA. Karpov has his hands full fighting the government — they did a civil forfeiture on the entire ship. I don’t like the guy, but that’s a hell of a thing to fight, especially as an foreign national with a shady past. He’ll be buried in paperwork until the end of time.”
“Good.” Jason shoved back from the desk. “And he won’t want to come at me with that heat on him. That’s not his only property I can tie up for a few years.”
“It’s not the solution I was expecting, but it did the job without any violence or damage that keeps the PCPD on us.” Cody rocked back on his heels, watched Jason pick his jacket up from the sofa. “We’re just about done the security upgrades on Mrs. Hardy’s house, so if and when she heads home, her place will be as secure as the Towers. We’re going to start on the Lexington Street house next.”
“Good.” Jason shrugged into his jacket. “Elizabeth’s still on concussion protocol for a few more weeks, so Mrs. Hardy is staying with us. But we’ll both feel better if her grandmother’s place is safe once she goes home.”
“Yeah, no problem. When she heads home, we’ll get a rotation of guys on her place. Do you guys have an ETA on Lexington? Or are you staying at the penthouse for the foreseeable future?” Cody followed Jason as he headed down the back hallway to reach the exit to the rear parking lot.
“I don’t know. That’s up to Elizabeth. Maybe through the holidays. Karpov hasn’t even been gone a week.” Jason hesitated at the door the SUV, considering the question. Karpov wasn’t the only worry on his mind. Though things had been quiet the last few days, Anthony Zacchara was a looming threat. They hadn’t dealt with one another much before the Black and White Ball, but things were different now. Anthony’s hold on reality was tenuous, and Johnny’s marriage tied him to Port Charles for the longterm.
And Anthony was unpredictable in ways that couldn’t be measured.
“I don’t know,” Jason repeated, finally. “But I want the house ready as soon as possible. Having somewhere safe that the boys are familiar with is preferable to a safehouse they’ve never seen.” Though he need to make sure even those were outfitted for Cam and Jake if the worst happened. “Is that it, because—”
“Just Greystone.”
Jason’s hand gripped the edge of the door and he looked at Cody with a grimace. “What about it?”
“Max has been keeping the place running — the housekeeper is one staff, there’s gardeners and a rotation of guards.”
“Right.” Jason exhaled slowly. Sonny didn’t live in a penthouse with an occasional maid coming in. He’d bought an estate that rivaled the Quartermaines. “For right now, tell Max to keep everything like it is. If Francis can use the guards somewhere else, fine. I have to go.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s everything. See you tomorrow.”
Cody stepped back, watched Jason climb into the SUV, then back out of the parking lot. If anyone had told him a few weeks ago, he’d be trying to fit meetings in around Jason Morgan picking up and dropping a four-year-old at some school, Cody wouldn’t have believed him.
But every day since the kid had moved in the Towers, Jason broke off whatever he was doing, rain or shine, and trotted off to sit in a preschool pick up line. Cody snorted, then shook his head and headed back inside. Things had changed drastically since Kate Howard been shot, but he wouldn’t want to go back. And he didn’t think his boss would either, even if it meant Sonny would be up and walking around.
Morgan Penthouse: Hallway
“I could have done that,” Elizabeth complained, leaning against the door frame watching Audrey put laundry away in the dresser the boys were sharing. “I’m not on permanent bed rest, you know.”
“But you are still on concussion protocol, my darling, so—” Audrey lifted the empty basket, rested it against her hip. “Let me spoil you a little longer. Who knows how long I’ll be able to be as active as I am today?”
“That’s a low blow,” Elizabeth muttered, trailing after her grandmother down the hallway and the stairs. “You’ll out last us all—”
At the foot of the stairs, Audrey turned to look at her with raised brows. “Are we quite done with our tantrum? My, it’s as if we’ve turned back the clock a decade or more and I’m asking you to make your bed. Is it really so awful to let me take on a few household chores while you recuperate? Wasn’t that the purpose of asking me to stay here?”
“Yes, but—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, then sighed. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m being a giant baby. It’s just—I’m not used to this—”
“You should be.” Audrey set the empty basket on floor, folded her arms. “You should be used to relying on someone to take care of you when you’re not feeling well. To pick up the slack when you aren’t able. But you decided a very long time ago that you couldn’t depend on anyone but yourself and I suppose asking you break that habit in a week is unrealistic.”
Elizabeth rested her hand on the low wall that acted as the railing for the lower set of steps. “It’s not a decision I made, Gram. It’s what was true. I couldn’t rely on anyone. Lucky died, and even when he was around, he was the one depending on me. You refused to let me grow up. Jason wouldn’t stay and let me make my own choices. Nikolas wouldn’t accept that I could choose my own friends. And Emily was always in the middle of her own crises. Let’s not get started with Ric or my family. I didn’t decide that I couldn’t ask for help. No one decides that. They get let down repeatedly until they learn to stop asking.”
Audrey pressed her lips together, looked away. “I suppose that’s fair—”
“And I am beyond grateful that you’ve come to stay here. That you love my boys the way you do. That you’re giving Jason another chance — no, that you’re giving him his first chance to show you who he really is. But give me a break, okay? It’s not easy to throw out a lifetime of experience over night. Because you won’t be here forever, Gram. You’ll go back to your house and your life. And Jason can’t possibly pull double duty with drop off and pick up forever. That’s not how life works. You’re both overcompensating, and you know it. So stop acting like there’s something wrong with me because I don’t want to get used to something that won’t last.”
As she spoke, the door behind her opened and Cameron bounced in, Jason on his heels, one hand gripping the door knob, the other holding Cameron’s discarded backpack. And the expression on his face told Elizabeth that he’d heard what she’d said.
Patrick’s Condo: Living Room
Patrick barely grunted when Robin set the pizza box in the middle of the table, his head bowed over a stack of paperwork that included the budget, reports from Risk Management, patient charts, and so many other things he’d lost track of what he’d dragged home. No matter what he seemed to do, the to-do pile just seemed to keep growing and growing.
“I’m not hungry,” he said, then looked up again, frowning at the pizza box. “Again?”
“You were supposed to come home early and make pasta.” Robin dropped a slice of pizza on her plate, then lowered herself into the chair across from him. “But then there was an emergency, and well—” She rubbed her belly. “The baby wanted pizza.”
Patrick winced, then sat back, dropping his pen on the table. “I forgot. Damn it.”
“It’s okay. I like pizza. The house Maxie and I looked at today is two blocks from Mama Mangione’s.” She wiggled her brows. “Oh, and across the street from Liz on Lexington.”
“Oh.” He furrowed his brow. “That’s the two-story colonial right? You liked that even before you went to see it.”
“Yeah, and, well, I forgive you for not coming home early if you forgive me for putting in an offer.” When Patrick just stared at her, Robin shrugged. “You told me you didn’t care. I can call the agent—”
“No. No. That’s fine—” He put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m leaving all the important stuff up to you, and—”
“Patrick.” When he looked up, she continued, “We can’t keep going on like this. Not because I can’t handle it. I can. I can buy a house without you. I can cook dinner—or dial—I can do these things, and it doesn’t bother me. But you are literally trying to be everything to everyone and it’s just not possible. You know that, don’t you?”
“I—” Patrick fiddled his pen. “I should be able to do this. I watched Alan do both jobs like it didn’t even faze him—”
“And he’d had years of practice by then. He also wasn’t always the best at the job,” Robin told him. “You can’t measure yourself by Alan. What the hospital is facing right now — cleaning up after a nurse who killed her parents, the threat of losing our accreditation, it’s so much pressure, and instead of taking it seriously, the board just seems to keep cutting our feet from under us.”
He rubbed his cheek. “The nursing staff is a disaster. Even without the dispensary machines. We’re short-staffed, and the loss of the nursing program is crippling us. We’re not keeping up with research, so we can’t attract grants. I don’t know how to fix any of this.”
“One step at a time,” Robin said. “First, you actually don’t have to read everything. You have an assistant. Let her be the gatekeeper and only the most important things end up on your desk. And the nursing situation—” She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. It’s a bigger problem than just you. Let’s just focus on getting through the here and now. Let’s eat our pizza, talk about the house, and—”
She broke off at the sound of a knock on the door. Patrick held up a hand. “I got it. Knowing my luck, it’s more bad news.”
When he pulled open the door, it took him a minute to process who he found on the other side. “Anna?”
“What?” Robin pulled herself to her feet, and then squealed, barreling past Patrick, knocking him out of the way when she caught sight of Anna Devane on the other side of the door. “You’re here!”
Patrick rubbed his shoulder. “Hey, Anna. It’s good to see you.”
“You, too. And look at you—” Anna laid a hand on Robin’s belly. “There’s my precious little girl. Oh, she’s awake and kicking!”
“You’re not kidding,” Robin said with a roll of her eyes. “It really is so great to see you. Please tell me you can stay for a few days! I’m looking at houses this week, and it’d be great to have your opinion—”
Anna wrapped her arm around Robin’s shoulders and squeezed. “Well then, you’ll be happy to hear that I’ll be in Port Charles for the foreseeable future.”
Robin’s eyes lit up. “Really? You’ll be here when the baby is born?”
“I’ve missed so much of your life, my darling girl.” Anna hugged Robin again. “I couldn’t bear to miss another moment. As long as Patrick doesn’t mind me hanging around—” She looked at Patrick, her eyes raised expectantly.
Patrick furrowed his brow. “No, no. I mean, we don’t have a second room right now—”
“I’m staying with Mac, so don’t worry about anything. I’m just here to lend a hand and spend some time with my daughter.”
“This is the best news I could have gotten,” Robin told her. “You’re really here, and you’re not going anywhere.”
“No where else I’d rather be.”
Zacchara Estate: Terrace
Claudia leaned against the low stone terrace, a glass of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She ignored the sound of the doors opening behind her, and the footsteps against the flag stones until Ric sidled up next to her.
“Those things will kill you,” he told her, lifting his own mug of coffee to his lips.
“Someone who expects to live a long life might care—” She exhaled a long thin stream of smoke in his face and he grimaced. “But we both know reaching fifty isn’t normal in this world. Look at your brother.”
Ric pressed his lips together, then looked out over the view. “He could wake up.”
She snorted, took another drag. “Okay. I didn’t know we were exchanging fantasies. I could tell you one about tying you to my headboard—” When he just scowled at her, Claudia shrugged a shoulder. “Did you have a point in coming out here or did you just want to bother me?”
“Things have settled down,” Ric said. “It’s been almost two weeks since what happened to Kate. A week since Sonny.” He paused. “Since your brother got married and moved out. He hasn’t come back once.”
“No, he hasn’t. You wanna take bets how long my father puts up with that before taking action? I could put fifty—”
“I’m serious, Claudia. When your father gets anxious, he tends to make it everyone’s problem,” Ric cut in. “The last time he threatened to snatch of Jason’s kids—”
“Hey, hey, give him some credit. He was just gonna take the bastard, not the actual heir to Daddy’s throne.”
“I don’t know why I bother with you,” Ric muttered. “You’re mentally incapable of taking anything seriously—”
She released another stream of smoke in his face, smirked. “And you take everything too literally, Ric. You’re so busy trying to be six steps in front of everyone that you can’t enjoy the here and now. Like you said, things are quiet. Jason made his deal with the devil, didn’t he? John put Sonny in a coma, but since Jason wants those rugrats to keep breathing, he’s not gonna do a damn thing.”
“What about your father? We don’t know what he’s planning—”
“What makes you so sure he’s planning anything?”
“Why arrange to have Kate shot if he wasn’t going to do anything about it?” Ric demanded. When Claudia looked away, he nodded. “Good. You’re not denying it—”
“Look, all I know is that my father didn’t pull the trigger, okay?” Claudia dropped the cigarette, ground it out with her heel. “He’s in a wheelchair, so the damage he can do is limited to the power he wields, and that goes through your father, not mine. So whatever Daddy wants to do, it usually has Trevor’s seal of approval.”
“Don’t remind me,” he muttered, then dragged a hand through his hair, disheveling the dark locks. “Your father doesn’t do anything in small measures. You know what he was planning to do if Johnny didn’t check in on Anthony’s arbitrary schedule.”
Claudia wrinkled her nose. “He was just going to take the kid for a few hours. You act like he was going to do something ruthless. If Daddy was serious, he’d have taken the little one. Or the nurse.”
“Are you kidding me? You’ve come into contact with Jason. You saw him after Michael went into that coma. What do you think would have happened if Anthony had kidnapped Cameron?”
She pressed her lips together, absorbed the information. “You have to understand. My father wouldn’t have seen it as a terrible thing. He doesn’t—he doesn’t value people the way others do. The older kid isn’t Jason’s biological kid. No blood involved.”
“That shouldn’t matter—”
“To Jason, no, and maybe a lot of people. But my father? He’d would see it like grabbing a nephew or a cousin. A warning shot. Look at how close I can get to you.” Claudia set her wine on the ledge, dug out her pack of cigarettes from her pocket. “He wouldn’t have hurt the kid. Not the first time.”
“You can’t think that matters—”
“I’m sorry, but didn’t you kidnap a pregnant woman and threaten to kill her and take her baby?” Claudia demanded. “You’re going to stand there in moral outrage over this? Are you serious—” Her brows lifted. “Oh. Oh, no it’s not morality you’re protesting. It’s who my father would have hurt. The nurse used to be your wife—”
“That has nothing to do with it—”
“No, no—” She smirked, took another drag. “No, it’s clear to me now. You were around when she was pregnant—that’s when you got divorced, isn’t it? Did she cheat on you, Ricky?” Claudia stepped closer to him, her eyes dancing with glee. “Is that why it fell apart?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ric said finally, his tone tight and controlled. “I’m just cautioning you not to play around with Elizabeth’s children. Jason accepted Ian Devlin as Michael’s shooter because he needed it to be true. But you open that door again, you’re not going to like what’s on the other side.”
Claudia’s smile fell. “What does that mean?”
“Your secrets, Claudia, aren’t as safe as you think they are. So you had better hope that your father doesn’t do anything stupid and doom us all.”
Morgan Penthouse: Living Room
They hadn’t spoken alone all evening — there hadn’t been a chance with Cameron full of news and excitement about a spelling contest he’d won. Then Jake had woken from his nap, and the afternoon had just gotten away from them all —
But it weighed on Elizabeth that Jason might have heard what she’d said to her grandmother and internalized it as criticism. They’d come a long way since that night he’d nearly walked out on her, when they’d had that terrible fight. But that didn’t mean everything had been resolved.
He still wasn’t talking a lot about Sonny — or going to see him — and she was still hesitant to believe that everything that had happened in the last few weeks would stick.
So she waited until dinner was over, until Spinelli had left to spend the night with Maxie, and they’d tucked the boys in. That was new, too, Elizabeth thought. Jason being there for the evening, keeping a boisterous Cameron from waking up Jake who went to sleep earlier. Jason sat in the living room while Cameron played, showing Jason every single item in their toy box, making up a new story to play out with his super hero figurines and assigning roles to Jason who did his best to play them out.
The first time they’d done this, Elizabeth had watched with fascination as tough, gruff Jason Morgan pretended to play the role of Deadpool and accepted every critique and suggestion from her four-year-old son. Cameron was patient with Jason, and seemed to almost pity the older man who had explained he didn’t remember playing as a kid because of his accident.
The second night, she’d reached for her sketch pad, and now by the fifth time she’d watched Jason do a much better impression of the comic book hero than she’d managed in more than a year, she’d filled more than half of her pad. Her fingers itched for her watercolors, something that hadn’t happened in months. Maybe longer.
But too soon, the clock struck eight, and Cameron reluctantly cleaned up, piling the toys back in the box. Audrey remained downstairs to watch television, and Jason and Elizabeth headed up the stairs with Cameron to wash and get ready for bed.
All the way, Cameron tried his usual tricks. He was four and half now, he’d told them. The half was important, so he should be able to stay up a half hour later. And he needed to tell them something else that happened in school, and the funny thing he’d watched on television, and—
But soon enough, Cameron was tucked away in bed, falling asleep almost before Elizabeth had reached the second page of their Percy Jackson book. She set the book on the table between the bed and the crib, smoothed the blanket over him, then kissed his cheek.
She found Jason lingering in the hallway, just as he had every night for the last week, and the guilt over her words washed over again.
“Hey, do you—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Do you have to go out or anything—”
“No.” Jason seemed hesitant, too, and this wasn’t new either. When the boys were around, they seemed sure of themselves. She knew how to be a mother, and he was rediscovering fatherhood—
But being in a relationship? That was harder. She remembered Bobbie’s advice to her. They’d never really done the relationship thing, and now they’d jumped headfirst into living together, being a family — if she was feeling unsure about everything, maybe he felt the same.
“Then we have a little time for you and me.” She took his hand, and tugged him gently — she didn’t have to try very hard. He followed her inside the bedroom, and watched as she closed the door.
“If I ask how you’re feeling, am I going to be in trouble?” Jason asked.
Elizabeth looked at him, then tipped her head to the side and smiled. “No. I’m okay. Sore. A little tired. I’m definitely pushing too hard to get back to normal, but it does help that you and Gram are doing so much of the heavy lifting, even if I complain about it. And I haven’t had a headache today.”
“Good.” He exhaled on a short breath. “Good. Uh, was there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Yeah, but first—” She leaned up on her toes and kissed him, lightly at first, her hands resting at his collarbone. His hands came up, framing her face, careful to avoid the bruise still healing along her cheek bone. The embrace deepened, her hands sliding under his arms, wrapping around his shoulders.
“I’m not feeling good enough for that yet,” she said, pulling back with a wrinkle of her nose. “Can’t believe I get to share a bed with you every night and all I get to do is sleep.”
Jason’s laugh spread over her, warming all of her like a hot chocolate. “It’s okay. I like waking up next to you.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then led her over to the large arm chair by the window. He pulled her down with him, carefully to avoid the healing wound from her surgery. She leaned into his arms. “If you’re worried about earlier,” he said, his breath fluttering the hair at her temple, “it’s okay.”
“I was just—”
“Saying how you feel. It’s okay.”
“I saw your face.” Elizabeth sat up slightly so that their eyes met. “You didn’t look like it was okay.”
“I…” Jason faltered then tipped his head back. “Okay. Maybe in the moment. But you know, it’s been a few hours. And you’re not wrong. I won’t be able to pick Cameron up every day. Or drop him off. There will be days when it’s you. Or maybe we can work something out with Carly. She’s tried to spend more time with Morgan since…since last spring. But right now, I can make it happen, and I like doing it.”
“Really? It’s usually the bane of my existence.”
“I like the extra time with Cameron,” Jason said, and she fell silent. “He talks like you do. Anything and everything that pops in his head. The way you used to,” he corrected softly. “When we first met. Before you started weighing every word and worrying if it would hurt someone.”
“You do that, too.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jason picked up her hand, traced a pattern in her palm. “I thought about what we talked about the other night. About how I’m waiting for you to go, and you’re waiting for me to let you. That’s not something we fix in a week.”
“No.” Pressure built behind her eyes and she closed him. “But I want to.”
“One day at a time. It’s all we can do. One moment.”
“Things happen fast,” she said. “But you have to live through them slow. You told me that once, a long time ago. Do you remember?”
“I remember everything,” he told her and she smiled. She touched his lips with the tips of her fingers.
“We’re going to be okay, you and me. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
PCPD: Commissioner’s Office
Mac glanced up at the light knock on the door frame, then grinned. “Well, where did you come from?”
“A stork brought me,” Anna said, stepping inside. “What are you doing at work so late?” She closed the door.
“Too much paperwork,” Mac complained, rising from his desk and coming around to embrace his former sister-in-law. “You’re here to see Robin?”
“Yes, I’ve just come from the condo. I told her I’d be using your guest room so she wouldn’t worry about me, I hope that’s all right.”
“Of course, of course. Any time. The house has been empty—” Mac’s expression faltered and he looked down, took a deep breath. “Anyway, plenty of room. How long are you staying?”
“Well, hopefully long enough to meet my granddaughter,” Anna said, “though that depends on you.”
“On me?”
“Yes. I’m hoping you’ll bring me up to date on everything you know about Jason Morgan and Andrei Karpov.”
