Written in 84 minutes. Sorry! I wanted to get all these scenes in this update so I can start a new day in the next part 😛 Merry Christmas!

Tuesday, September 24, 2025

Pozzulo’s Restaurant: Dining Room

Sonny exhaled with relief, then set his phone aside. “Kristina’s case was dismissed.” Across the table, Michael leaned back, grimaced. “That’s good news,” his father added when Michael said nothing.

“Sure. I just—” Michael shifted, then reached for his fork to push his salad around the plate. “I don’t know. Do you know what she and Alexis were planning with the baby?”

Sonny squinted. “Planning? When? What?”

“Before the accident. Before she fell. Alexis drew up custody papers. She was going to sue TJ for custody. She was going to back out of the surrogate agreement.”

Sonny looked away, dropped his eyes, and Michael tilted his head. “You didn’t know, but you also don’t look surprised.”

“The way she’s, ah, handled everything,” Sonny said, with a slight wave of his hand. “She’s been hard on Molly. And I didn’t miss that she’s calling the baby Adela.” He picked up his bourbon. “Never should have let her go through with this. Just a mistake from beginning to end.”

“There’s a reason they don’t recommend first time mothers become surrogates,” Michael said. “Once Kristina started to feel that baby grow—”

“It’s deeper than that,” Sonny insisted. “She’s…she’s like me. Family—we get obsessive. We do everything to hold them close, even when we should be keeping our distance.” He stroked his jaw. “Even if she’d handed that baby over, she’d have never stopped thinking about it. And we’d have gone on for years. Not that I think it’s some kind of blessing what happened to her—”

“No one thinks, Dad.” Michael shook his head. “I just hope she can move on. To start really healing. Molly can’t heal until Kristina does.”

“Well, Molly should have known better than to let Kristina go through with this,” Sonny retorted, and Michael lifted his brows. “I want my daughter to move on, and stop acting like a fool. Getting into messes that the rest of us have to clean up.” He set his drink down. “Acting on impulse, and making everything worse. She needs to grow up.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Main Floor

Jason heaved a sack of coffee beans to one side, then caught sight of a familiar figure winding her through through the main floor towards the cargo dock. “Hey,” he said, greeting Elizabeth with a one-armed hug and a brush of his lips against his temple. “Everything okay? I thought you were on shift until eight—”

“I am, but I took a long lunch. Dante asked to meet with both of us,” she said. “And I figured this was probably the best place—and before you ask—he said it’s not about the case, so I didn’t call Diane. She’s got enough on her plate.”

Jason took her hand, and they headed towards his office, tucked in the corner of the warehouse. “She’s definitely earning her retainer and more.” He held the door open for her, then saw Dante coming through the door at the other side. He gestured for the other man to join them.

“We’re going to owe her a shopping trip in Milan by the time this is done,” Elizabeth said. She dropped her bag on the desk, and waited for Dante to join them.

“Sorry about the short notice,” Dante said when Jason closed the door behind him and went to adjust the blinds. “And thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

“You said it’s not about the case?” Jason asked, leaning against the desk, folding his arms. “Then it’s about Danny.”

“I’m…being removed from the investigation,” Dante said, and Elizabeth frowned. “It was always a little dicey having me on it — but it should have been okay. Our investigation eliminated both of you almost immediately, which meant living with Danny wasn’t an issue.” He paused. “But the boys getting into that fight—it just makes it all little…more complicated. I asked to step side, but the request was coming.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Elizabeth said. “Whatever we’ve been dealing with personally, you’re a good cop, Dante, and I felt better knowing you and Chase were on this. Is…is Chase staying on?”

“Yeah. For now. Like I said, we’re confident in eliminating you guys, and we’d been working on our own list. Chase can follow up from there. But I can’t keep sidestepping all of that, and doing right right by Danny and Rocco.”

“No, the boys—they’re a priority, and they should be. How’s…how’s Rocco doing?” Elizabeth asked. “Aiden was disappointed he couldn’t do more.”

“He’s—” Dante took a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Not great. You know, kids—they’re resilient. Or you think they are. I thought Rocco was handling what happened to his mom, and I thought—” He looked away, pressed his lips together and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna figure out how to get him through this. I, uh, I was gonna testify tomorrow in Sam’s favor,” he told them. “But…Alexis told me it wouldn’t make a difference. And I’m not sure…” He paced away a few steps. “I’m not sure custody should go back the way it was. Not with Danny.” He looked back to Jason. “I left my family, too, you know. But I didn’t let my kid think I was dead. Sam’s never gonna forgive you for that.”

“I’m not concerned with her forgiveness,” Jason said, his tone almost flat.

“You should be. She was the one raising your kid while you were gone. She went too far, putting Danny in the middle of it. But I heard him crying one more too many nights because his father was dead,” Dante retorted. “Maybe it’s easier for Elizabeth to forgive it—”

“Don’t speak for me,” Elizabeth cut in sharply, and he looked at her. “Because I was angry, too. And so was Jake. That’s not what these last few months have been. Don’t do what everyone has done for Sam her whole life. You’re making excuses for her. You think Jake didn’t mourn his father? You think I didn’t have to deal with that? You think I wasn’t mourning the loss of one of my best friends? Sam wasn’t angry about Jason faking his death and you know it.”

Dante scowled. “Don’t tell me—”

“She was pissed that he did it to protect Sonny and Carly, so she took it out on Danny. Just like she’s punishing Danny because she’s angry with me. I’m sorry she has an inferiority complex, Dante. But if you’re here to ask Jason for mercy tomorrow, you’re in the wrong place. She tried to have me arrested for kidnapping, Dante. Do you know what the FBI would have done with that?”

Dante exhaled slowly. “Revoked your bail.”

“You’re damn right. And you said it yourself — you’ve eliminated me. So Sam was willing to take me away from my kids for months, maybe forever — because I sat in the lobby so her son could extend the olive branch. You said you wanted to meet with us both. Why?”

“I thought if we could just talk—”

“I’d forget what Sam’s done for the last few months?” Jason interrupted. “She insisted that Elizabeth supervise visits with Danny and that I could only see him with Jake, and now she’s angry that Danny sees Elizabeth as someone to trust. Because she wanted to punish me, force Jake into visits he wasn’t ready for — it backfired on her. Jake and Danny want to stay together. Sam’s been creating her own problems since the day I met her. She makes herself the victim and then waits for someone to run to her rescue, then wants to complain about how you do it. I know she loves Danny. I know she’s generally a good mother, and I let her set the terms. But that’s over now.”

“Fine. You’ve both made up your minds.” Dante held up his hands in mock surrender. “But  just so you know — Rocco and I are moving out because Rocco doesn’t want to be there either. So tomorrow, after you win your case, and Drew swoops in like a vulture, Sam’s going to be left without any of her kids. But I guess you think she deserves it. She did all the damn work for both their lives, and then both you assholes think you come in and take over. It’s bullshit.”

He slammed the door when he left so hard the glass rattled.

Hanley Federal Building: U.S Attorney’s Offices

Gia knocked on Reynolds’ office door. “I’m heading to Port Charles tonight so I can supervise the crime scene search tomorrow.” She leaned against the door frame. “I heard your other PC case was dismissed.”

“I dropped the charges,” Reynolds said, getting to his feet. “It was always a weak case meant to bolster Cates’ goal in antagonizing Sonny Corinthos. I’ll be able to focus the rest of my attention on this case—”

“Good. We’re going to need it.” Gia paused. “You know the locals are running a parallel investigation, and one of the detectives — he sent me a file with witness interviews. Said he thought we should be aware of what Diane Miller has.”

“It’s local corruption—Corinthos and Morgan have those cops in their pockets. He’s related to one of the investigators—”

“Harrison Chase? He’s married to Brook Lynn Quartermaine. I don’t know if something has changed in twenty years, Noah, but Jason Morgan didn’t give a damn about most of that family, much less extended cousins he didn’t grow up with. And if I remember right, Brook is almost twenty years younger than him.”

Reynolds squinted. “Is there something in these interviews we should know about?”

“The alibi for Elizabeth—” Gia pursed her lips, looked down at her notes. “It’s tight. Really  tight. She’s got a bunch of teenagers who tell the same story — she goes down to the gardens with Michael Corinthos and the shots are heard within five minutes.”

“It’s enough time—”

“Maybe. But I can’t get over Corinthos being the 911 caller,” Gia continued. “If he doesn’t call right away — it’s harder to pin point that. The gunshot witnesses — why are they giving times that make it so tight? Especially when we’re talking about the son of the defendant? Jake Webber could have said the shots happened with his mother still in eye sight.”

“Gia—”

“Noah. These are witnesses we’re going to have to destroy in a trial. And I’ve watched the Webber kid’s interrogation. He holds up. He held up when Caldwell went to his school, his mother was in jail—”

“He’s Jason Morgan’s son. He’s been coached well—”

“What’s the point of being on this case if you won’t listen to me,” Gia interrupted. “I told you that I knew how things worked in Port Charles. I was there when Jason Morgan and Sonny Corinthos were at their peak of power. I’m telling you this doesn’t smell right.”

Reynolds waited a long moment. “We know Jason Morgan is involved. If you’re right, and Webber isn’t pulling the trigger, then she knows something. The gun was in her car. She was on scene when the Cates died. And Morgan just so happens to be right inside the house so his boys could perfectly alibi him? Cates was making his life difficult. I’ve read the Webber file. She’s been in and out of his life since she was her son’s age. I think she’d lie for him. I think she’d do anything to protect him.”

Gia bit her lip. She couldn’t deny that — she knew that Elizabeth was loyal to Jason above pretty much anything else. Or she had been. She’d hid the man in her studio for weeks, lying to Lucky, hadn’t she? And clearly they were still involved.

“I’m just saying I don’t know if we win at trial. Not without really destroying some of these kids on the stand. So if we’re trying to get to the answers, Noah, we’d better hope we find something at the Quartermaines tomorrow.”

Rice Plaza: Office Towers

Danny climbed into the passenger seat. “Took you long enough.”

Jake shifted the SUV from park into drive, then pulled away from the curb. “Hey, I could be enjoying my one day vacation, and I have to spend it dragging you around town. You should be grateful.”

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be vacationing at work and Dad would have taken the car to work.”

Danny wasn’t wrong, but Jake wasn’t gonna admit it. “How’d it go?”

“How do you think?”

“I don’t know. I never had to talk to a lawyer.” Jake paused at a red light. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

Danny hesitated, then jerked a shoulder. “She’s got her mind made up. She watched the security video from Saturday, and some social worker already wrote a report that said Mom’s house is unstable,” he said, the final words were a bit of a mocking tone. He slid a glare out of the corner of his eye. “You agree, so don’t bother to pretend you don’t.”

“Your mom slugged mine, and then was gonna have her charged with kidnapping, Danny. You met that asshole from the FBI. You think he wouldn’t have my mom back in that jail by night time? So yeah, I think your mom is fucking mental which is what you’ve saying for weeks.”

“I hate it. Scout’s at her dad’s, and he won’t even let her talk to me,” Danny bit out. “Mom’s at home, Rocco’s at his grandmother’s. It’s all fucked up, and it’s my fault—”

“You get like twenty percent of the blame, okay? Mom gets five for being dumb enough to try to help, Dad gets like twenty for leaving for two years and your mom gets what’s ever left.” Jake turned onto Elm Street. “I know it sucks, Danny. She’s your mom, and you love her. But do you wanna go back to how it was before? When you could only see Dad for like two hours? Supervised?”

“It’s how it’s gonna be now. Mom’s gonna get supervised visits, the attorney said.” Danny leaned back against the head rest. “I guess it’s fair, right? She did it to Dad, and now karma’s making it happen to her. I just wish we hadn’t gone to that dumbass party. It wasn’t worth it. Now everything’s ruined.”

Jake pulled up to the house, switched off the ignition. “I get it. I do,” he insisted when Danny rolled his eyes. “You think it’s always been easy at my house? Yeah, Mom’s great. Always has been. But she has shitty taste in men. I get older, and I look back at Franco, and I think she married him because he was nice to me. But he was always getting in trouble, and she spent all her time on him. Then he died, and Finn the asshole came along — all I’m saying is — you deal with the hand you’re dealt. Your mom is getting a wake up call. The same one mine got when she got wrapped up with that stupid Esme shit last year. Mom got her act together, and then we drop kicked Finn into rehab and we never have to think about him again. Your mom will figure it out, you’ll get visits with her, and she’ll get you and your sister back by Christmas. If not sooner. Because you know Dad’s not out for blood.”

“Yeah.” Danny exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Dad didn’t want to do this. I used to be mad he wasn’t fighting back, but now that he is, I get why he didn’t want to do this. I didn’t—” His voice shook slightly. “I didn’t want to tell her all the stuff Mom said about Dad, about Elizabeth. About you, you know? She’s my mom, it’s like—”

“It’s disloyal.”

“Yeah.” Danny looked at his brother. “And she told me to be honest, and I had to like — I had to say I like it at your house. I always did. And I like living with Dad. He’s there when I wake up, and when I go to bed, and I never had that before. I know that’s his fault, you know? But I still like it. And you’re an asshole, but—”

“I like how things are, too,” Jake agreed. “I’m just sorry your mom had to go crazy and mine had to get arrested, but you had to be honest. It’ll be okay. Trust Dad to make it okay.”

Danny smiled slightly. “Remember like three months ago when I was like, Dad’s a good a guy and you punched me? How’s it feel to be wrong?”

“Shut up.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason’s Office

Elizabeth dropped into the chair by Jason’s desk, crossed one leg, and folded her arms. “I can’t believe he dragged me all the way down here so he could plead Sam’s case. My God. The arrogance—” She met Jason’s gaze as he leaned back against the desk. “But it probably looked familiar to you.”

“Trying to save Sam from a situation she created? Unfortunately.” Jason shook his head. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I really—I tried so hard to keep Jake and Danny from going through any of this. I never wanted them to dragged through the system the way Sonny and Carly did to their boys—”

“You didn’t start this, Jason,” Elizabeth said gently. “You did everything Sam wanted, and it was never enough—”

“I did start this,” he interrupted. “I—” He paused. “I took for granted that Jake and Danny would be okay without him. Because they had mothers who loved them. I convinced myself I couldn’t bring anything to their lives that wasn’t violence. That my life would destroy them if I was around all the time.” He got to his feet, paced to the door, then to the other side of the office. “I told myself it would be enough to be there when you asked for me. I came running any time you did,” he said, looking at Elizabeth. “I looked for reasons to help.”

“I know.” Elizabeth rose, but didn’t come towards him. “You’ve always done that.”

“I told you—when I told you that day that I couldn’t be with you and Jake—and Cam—I never meant to be with anyone else,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to make that a lie.” She sighed, looked away. “I’m sorry—”

“You’re allowed to want something in your life, Jason. And honestly—” Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, smiled faintly. “I’m not surprised it was Sam. She was a lot like Carly, you know? They both create disasters that you have to fix. Over and over again. I watched you repeat that cycle again and again, and I knew that I could never give you want you needed—”

“That’s—”

“I never wanted you to save me,” Elizabeth said softly. “I never needed or wanted it. And I wasn’t ever going to put myself in danger just to get your attention. I watched you do that with Courtney, and then I watched you do it with Sam. You just said it, Jason. You don’t think you have anything else to offer, so you couldn’t be happy with someone who didn’t need you to be the hero.”

He swallowed hard, but it was hard to argue with the way she’d put that together. He looked away. “I’m not proud of that—”

“I don’t think you did it on purpose, Jason. And I didn’t see it then. Not until much later, until after Jake was kidnapped by the Russians, and he nearly died. You blamed yourself. You decided it was your life that had brought him to that point. Not Lucky or Sam who got in over their head. Not me who didn’t listen to you and put myself and the boys in danger because I was so scared. You couldn’t see it logically. Because you decided a long time ago that your legacy was pain and violence.”

“It is—”

“Part of it. You worked for Sonny for a very long time,” she said and now she approached him. “And that will always be part of you. But you forget how long I’ve known you,” she said. “You absolutely have tried to create a balance and put good in this world. You nearly died saving people in the hotel fire, you traveled halfway around the world to get the antidote for the virus—” She laid a hand on his chest. “More than either of his parents, when I see Michael, I see the warmth and compassion that he learned from you. And you’re bringing that to your sons, to Cameron and Aiden. I wish that you could believe that’s enough. That being good father, present and empathetic— that it’s enough.”

“I’m working on it,” he said, covering her hand with his.

“A lifetime ago,” Elizabeth said, meeting his gaze, “a bunch of doctors who thought they had all the answers told you that you were damaged. You’ve spent your entire life trying to prove them wrong. When will it be enough?”

+48

Written in 70 minutes.

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Miller & Davis: Spinelli’s Office

Diane rapped on the open office door, and folded her arms. “I just heard from Michael’s lawyer.”

Spinelli rubbed his mouth and sighed. “The injunction was lifted.”

“Yes. Our only saving grace is that it’s raining again today,” Diane said, nodding to the window behind Spinelli where raindrops pounded the glass. “But the weather forecast is clear tomorrow.”

“Which means the FBI will be up here searching.” Spinelli pushed away from the desk and crossed over to his bulletin board, studying it as if it the answers would somehow highlight themselves when they hadn’t given him anything in more than a week. “It’s not the end of the world. There’s no guarantee they’ll find anything to help themselves. Especially with the rain over the last few weeks.”

“Three weeks is a long time for evidence to sit at a crime scene,” Diane agreed. “So no, the search itself isn’t the problem—”

“We’re running out of time to avoid a trial.” Spinelli grimaced, met Diane’s gaze. “If I could cut through of the red tape, we might have more. I’d already have the footage, the car data—”

“We’ve been over this, Spinelli. First, this conversation isn’t happening. And second, the feds aren’t really interested in the truth. They almost certainly know Elizabeth didn’t pull that trigger. They want Jason. They’ll ignore anything we turn up and point to any hint of illegality.”

“I know. I know.” Spinelli stared hard at the crime scene photo. “If this goes to trial—”

“I’m relatively confident that I have enough for reasonable doubt. The timing is too tight, the alibi from Michael is unchallenged. But juries are unpredictable,” Diane reminded him. “And I don’t exactly have a smoking gun. I can’t even prove the gun was planted.” She pressed her lips together, then took a deep breath. “But we have time. We likely won’t get the case dismissed next week, but a trial won’t happen for six months or longer. I can push it, keep Elizabeth out on bail.”

“Kick the can down the road,” Spinelli murmured. He looked at Diane. “Have you called them?”

“No. Elizabeth’s at work, and I wanted to tell you before I called Jason. But this isn’t anything we didn’t expect.”

“I know. All the same—if it’s all right, I’ll head down to the warehouse and tell him myself. Maybe pick his brain a little—not about my theory,” Spinelli added when Diane opened her mouth. “I want more weight on my side before I bring that up. The footage, the techstream data from the car—but it won’t hurt to talk to him about Cates. Maybe there’s something we’re missing.”

James M. Hanley Federal Building: Courtroom

Alexis rose to her feet, her reading glasses in one hand. “It’s all in my amended petition, Your Honor. Giglio and Franks made it very clear that any case whose foundation is investigative misconduct needs to be dismissed with prejudice.”

Reynolds shook his head. “Ms. Davis is misreading those cases, Your Honor. Our case against Ms. Corinthos Davis is not based only on Agent Cates’ affidavit. We have sworn testimony from Ava Jerome, the victim—”

“Alleged victim,” Alexis snapped. “It’s only on Agent Cates’ say-so that Ava Jerome was even a federal witness — I’ve still seen no records that prove that. And if she wasn’t, this case doesn’t fall under federal jurisdiction.”

Judge McAvoy lifted his brows, looked at the Assistant U.S. Attorney. “Can the Government provide additional evidence at this time outside of John Cates?”

Reynolds hesitated. “Not at the moment, but with further investigation—”

“That isn’t the standard,” Alexis interrupted. “John Cates’ credibility has come under serious attack with the forensics reports suggesting that he was willing to fabricate evidence to get what he wanted. He’s not available to be cross-examined. I might also add that I was not made aware of that forensics report by the U.S Attorney’s office, but by the local police department. Under Giglio, that alone is reason enough for a dismissal.”

“The forensics report was from an unrelated case,” Reynolds argued. “The delay is understandable—”

“But not permissible. I’m going to give you two choices, Mr. Reynolds,” the judge said. “Dismiss the charges on your own without prejudice to be presented at a time when you have the necessary evidence. Or I’ll dismiss them with prejudice right now. And this case dies today. What’s it going to be?”

Quartermaine Mansion: Kitchen

Brook Lynn huffed and picked up her phone, scrolling to her contacts. “What’s the point of having an influential name if we can’t pull strings?” she demanded.

Michael stirred sugar into his coffee, not responding to his cousin’s remarks. She was as disappointed as he was to learn the injunction had been dismissed. They’d known it was a long shot, but he’d wanted more time.

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in Chase,” Brook continued, sitting down at the table, continuing to flick though her phone. “But I really thought we’d have found something. It’s so obviously a setup! The FBI is basically calling you a liar! Isn’t anyone thinking about that?”

“I’m surprised,” Michael said a bit slowly, “they haven’t done more to challenge me. They really went after Jake and Danny. Going to the school, talking to Danny on his own — they tried really hard to break Jason’s alibi.”

“Exactly! It’s just proof that they don’t think Elizabeth really did it! This is just bananas. Obviously some crazy person was following Cates around, and we just happened to be the place where he lost control.” Brook made a face, looked at Michael. “What do we do next? What can we do to help?”

“Not much.” Michael sat at the table. “Neither of us have any real power. I might…” he hesitated. “I might try to talk to someone at the Sun. I wish Alexis were still working there.” He scratched his jaw. “Maybe I’ll find out if she has any connections. We could use more press on this.”

“I just hate it. We were having a perfectly nice family gathering, and some bastard had to come along to ruin it.” Brook scowled. “I guess we gave the FBI a headache, but I’m not satisfied. We have to do more.”

“I know. I’ll talk to Molly. Maybe she has some other ideas.” Michael paused. “But maybe I should call Diane. It has to mean something the FBI never came back to talk to me. I’m the alibi witness. Me and the kids. We all make it impossible for Elizabeth to have done this. That’s going to kill them at trial. Why don’t they care about that?”

“That’s a very good question.” Brook leaned forward. “They’re not expecting to go to trial, are they?”

“No. They’re not.” He tipped his head, considering that angle. “They still think Jason did this. They must think Jason will come forward or that Elizabeth will turn him in. That’s why they tried to break his alibi, and not hers.”

“That has to be some kind of misconduct or whatever, right? The feds prosecuting a case they don’t even believe in?” Brook pursed her lips. “How do we use that? That’s our next angle. Man, why don’t we own a newspaper or a media outlet? You should look into that.”

“I’ll get right on it, but I don’t think there’s enough time,” Michael said dryly. “I’m going to call Diane. Maybe she’ll have some ideas.”

Syracuse, NY: The York Restaurant

Sam lifted her glass. “To Alexis Davis, making her triumphant return to the courtroom and wiping the floor with anyone who gets in her way.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Kristina said, tapping her glass against her sister’s, then her mothers. They were both drinking iced tea as a show of support to their mother’s recovery. “And now that Mom has performed miracles in getting my case dropped, I’m sure we’ll see similar results tomorrow.”

“Not likely,” Sam said with a grimace. She set her glass down, picked up her fork. “Mom made it very clear I don’t have a shot in hell of winning.”

“That’s not precisely what I said,” Alexis said. “You’ll need to make some concessions, but I have every confidence we’ll be able to get visitation—’

“Supervised,” Sam said with a wrinkle of her nose. “Maybe. For Danny. But now that Drew knows about Saturday—”

“Drew?” Kristina frowned. “How did he find out? I thought Elizabeth wasn’t pressing charges.”

“She’s not. It would make her look awful for her case,” Sam said, “so we both agreed to just let it go, I guess. But the cops made it a problem—”

“They had no choice,” Alexis reminded Sam gently. “Once they saw the footage, they had to write a report. I imagine word of mouth got to Drew. He’s not backing down on custody.”

“It’s for his stupid campaign. So he looks like a family man.” Her appetite gone, Sam pushed her plate away. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“So that’s just it?” Kristina demanded, looking at their mother. “Sam loses custody of her kids because she made one mistake?”

“A trio of very mistakes,” Alexis corrected gently. “Leaving Danny at the police station, refusing consent to treat, and then beginning a physical altercation—I’m sorry, Sam. You know if I thought we had an angle to fight this, I would—”

“But you had a good reason for all of that,” Kristina said to her sister. “You know you did. Danny was perfectly awful to you! He’d been getting worse. And then he pulled that stunt! Why not leave him with his father? And so what if you hesitated in putting him therapy? You were right to worry that Elizabeth was trying to get influence over Danny—”

“None of that matters in court. They’re not going to care that Elizabeth manipulating my son,” Sam bit out. “Are they, Mom?”

Alexis hesitated when both her daughters turned their gazes on her. “If the manipulation is that Elizabeth convinced Danny to get therapy, found him a well-regarded doctor in the field, and then tried to help him reach out to you to participate in that therapy — no, I don’t think so.”

“So you’re taking her side in all of this?” Kristina wanted to know. “Mom!”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. I’m laying out the facts as Diane wrote them in her petition. The history between you and Elizabeth — we can work that in, I suppose. But it’s not going to help very much. The court isn’t going to care that the two of you have been locked in this competition for twenty years.”

“No, they never care about what really matters.” Kristina huffed, turned to Sam. “We’re going to get your kids back. Now that my case is over, I’m going to do whatever I can to help. I won’t let this happen to you without a fight.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Office

Jason rubbed the side of his face, grimacing. “I guess it was too much to hope that we’d get a break,” he told Spinelli, closing the door. “When’s the search?”

“Tomorrow, probably.” Spinelli leaned against the desk, facing his mentor and friend. “They’re going to be looking for the missing bullet — they only recovered three and couldn’t match them. The fourth — if they find it undamaged, they’ll be able to match it.”

“Because of course they will,” Jason muttered, pacing to the end of the office, then turning back to Spinelli. “And there’s nothing we can do to stop any of this.”

“Not legally. Not yet. Not before the dismissal hearing,” Spinelli admitted. “Everything Diane has will help at trial. Michael came by a little while ago to talk about his alibi. Everything Caldwell did to investigate — he tried to break your alibi. He went after your kids. He never talked to Michael or any of the other witnesses who saw Elizabeth leave with him. They didn’t care about breaking her alibi—”

“Because they know she didn’t do it,” Jason cut in sharply, then exhaled. “I’m sorry. I’m not frustrated with you—I know you’re doing everything you can, and I know we have to stay inside the lines on this, but damn it—the Feds are going after her to get to me.”

“I know, but it’s not going to work — because you didn’t do this—”

“No, but they don’t give a damn. They don’t care that they’re destroying Elizabeth’s life to get to me.” He stared at the window that looked out over the warehouse floor, though there was no view with the blinds drawn. “It’s always been that way. Someone using her, hurting her, to get to me. From the day we met.  Nothing I’ve ever done can stop it.”

“Well, no, because despite what you think, Stone Cold, you don’t control the world.”

Jason scowled, turned to face the younger man. “What?”

Spinelli didn’t even flinch at the fury in Jason’s voice. “I used to think you were right, you know. When you told me all the reasons you couldn’t be with Little Stone Cold and Fair Elizabeth. I thought you were the smartest man I knew, and that you were doing the right thing, even though you were clearly miserable.”

“Spinelli—”

“Then I became a father myself and Maxie nearly talked me out of keeping our daughter,” Spinelli continued, and Jason closed his mouth. “It’s complicated, and we don’t really have time for the backstory, but I remembered you and how much I believed you when you said mothers have that right. That they go through the hell of pregnancy and labor, and that gives them some special power. And then Maxie wanted me to give up Georgie because she was trying to be noble—and I realized it was bullshit. Sure, moms are amazing, and there’s money in the world you could pay me to do what they do. But I got to hold my little girl, and I knew that you were wrong. That she was wrong. The world is dumb, and it’s awful, and sometimes it’s evil. You kept trying to leave your family to protect them.” Spinelli straightened. “You were an idiot not to realize the best way to protect them was to be right next to them.”

Jason was quiet for a beat, then nodded. “I know that—”

“No, you don’t. Obviously. Because you still thought it was a good idea to let everyone think you were dead for over two years.”

Jason looked away, scrubbed a hand through his hair. “No, but once I made that decision, I should have seen it through. I should have done all of it better. Should have stayed off the radar after Dante got shot. And blowing the whole thing by letting Anna tip off Valentin—if I hadn’t done that, none of this would be happening. Cates would have his guy, and he might have gone away—”

“You’re still an idiot.”

Jason closed his mouth, furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Arresting Pikeman was never your job. Yeah, you were an idiot to let Anna Devane talk you into giving Valentin a chance to flee. But you did what you said you were gonna do. You gave up your life and your freedom to get that name. You gave it to Cates. It was never your job to finish.” Spinelli lifted his brows. “And now the FBI is taking their incompetence out on you. They think you killed Cates to get rid of him. But they don’t know you. Because if they did, they’d know you’d never involve Elizabeth with a gun in her car.” Spinelli stopped. “Listen, I get you’re frustrated. I am, too. Because I want this to be over. I want you and Fair Elizabeth to ride off into the sunset like you should have decades ago. But you better stop planning that I think you’re planning.”

Jason folded his arms. “And what’s that?”

“Turning yourself in to get the target off Elizabeth’s back.” When Jason looked away, Spinelli nodded. “You know that would be a mistake.”

“I’m not letting her go to jail. That’s not an option—”

“I’m going to find out what happened,” Spinelli promised. “I’ll find the answers, and I’ll find them the right way. Diane’s right. We need to do this by the book.”

“I’m not saying I’d do it tomorrow,” Jason said slowly, “but—”

“But nothing. Trust me. Have I ever you down?” Spinelli wanted to know.

“No. No. And I do trust you—I just—” Jason sat down in the wooden chair in front of the desk, stared at the floor. “You didn’t see Jake and Aiden when Elizabeth was in jail. Or talk to Cameron on the phone. They need her—”

“And they have her. We got her out of there, didn’t we? Because we played the right cards. Let’s keep doing it, Stone Cold. The Jackal is on the case, and I’m not giving up until it’s over.”

+42

Written in 63 minutes.

Monday, September 23, 2024

Penthouse: Living Room

Sam was curled up in an armchair when he finally came home that afternoon. She didn’t get up or even look at him when he came through the door or when he dropped his keys on the desk with plink of metal hitting the ceramic dish next to the phone.

They stood there for a long moment, the silence suffocating the oxygen in the air. The room felt small, the walls closer and closer. When had it changed? Dante wondered. When had they changed? When had they lost sight of each other and the life they’d built together?

He crossed to the other chair, sitting across from Sam, sat on the arm, every muscle in his body tensed — for flight or fight, he didn’t know. Just that he wanted to be ready for whatever came next.

“I’m not fighting tomorrow,” Sam said finally, her voice sounding dull, almost rusted. Huskier than normal. She lifted her tired dark eyes to his. “At the hearing. Mom made it pretty clear that any chance I had to win was over on Saturday.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? You told me.” Sam let her legs drop to the ground, but she kept her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. “You told me I had to get my head on straight, that I had to stop creating problems for myself. Starting fights with Jason, going after Elizabeth—” She closed her eyes. “Doesn’t matter that I’m right, does it? That Jason had no right to come back after two years and get angry with me because I was trying to protect Danny. Or that Elizabeth’s doing everything she can to steal my son.”

“Sam—”

“Doesn’t matter that I’m right. The court doesn’t care about the truth.” She exhaled slowly, opened her eyes and met his gaze. “Mom said if I don’t fight it, if I accept anger management, maybe I get them back by Christmas.”

“Your mom’s always had your back, Sam. If that’s what she’s saying—” Dante paused. “I know this is gonna feel like I’m piling on, and I don’t want it to be like that. But Rocco—”

“She told me. There was a fight at school.” She got to her feet, crossed to the terrace and watched the rain cascading down the glass. “Danny and Rocco. I think Jake got involved?”

“Tried to break it up. But Rocco—he’s got—I didn’t know he…I didn’t know he was unhappy here.”

“Neither of us saw it,” Sam murmured. “Both the boys hid so much of what they were thinking. Feeling. We were patting ourselves on the back for how perfect our family was. How very Brady Bunch we were. And the boys were miserable. No matter how much I want to blame Jason for coming home — Danny was drinking before that.” She looked at him, and the distance between them felt like a thousand feet. “They both were.”

“I don’t know how to fix it except it’s…a choice. Rocco can’t—he doesn’t want to be here. Maybe he’s more messed up about his mom than I thought. But I can’t—I can’t force him to live here when he hates it. And I don’t want to be separated—”

“You’ve got to put him first,” Sam finished. She exhaled in a slow breath. “Yeah.”

Dante crossed to her now, stepping behind her and drew her back against him. She relaxed into his embrace, and he kissed the side of her head. “I love you. I know it hasn’t been easy, but that hasn’t changed.”

“I love you, too,” she murmured.

“But—”

“But right now you have to put Rocco first.” She turned in his arms, stroked her hands down his biceps to his elbows, then back up. “And I have to put everything into getting my kids back where they belong.”

“You know, whatever I can do to make that happen—”

“I know.”

He kissed her forehead, and she tightened her grip on his shoulders, neither one wanting to let go — and both knowing they had no other choice.

Silver Water: Hallway

Rocco trudged down the hallway behind his grandmother, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his eye throbbing like a motherfucker.

“I don’t know why we have to come here,” Rocco muttered as they approached his mother’s room, where Laura turned to face her grandson. “You think you’re gonna tell my mother what an asshole I am, and she’ll rise from the dead?”

“I think,” Laura said, tilting her head, “that you’d be surprised what gets through. I spent years locked in a catatonic state, did you know that?”

He jerked a shoulder. He’d heard something about that, but had never really dug into it.

“In fact, I missed most of your mother’s teen years. Just like she’s missing yours. Oh, it breaks my heart,” Laura murmured, and Rocco looked at her, feeling a bit ashamed of himself now for being so irritated by this visit. “She’s missed so much time with you and your sister, and it’s an ache, a guilt that you never let go. I’ve never forgiven myself for not being there when my babies needed me.”

“You woke up,” Rocco muttered, looking down at the floor, concentrating on the lines of tile. “But she’s not going to.”

“The doctors said that about me, you know. That I’d be locked away forever. But I wasn’t. Lulu came to see me, and she needed me, and I found the strength to come back.” Laura touched her grandson’s shoulder. “I’m not saying it’ll work for you. That if you just keep asking, she’ll wake up. But I am asking to find a way to make peace with the situation as it is. You know that if she could be here, she would. She never, ever wanted to be without you.”

He bit down hard on his lip when it trembled. “I have made peace with it—”

“Have you? Or have you ignored it? Hid it down deep, found ways to make it go away until you couldn’t ignore it anymore?” Laura pushed the door open, and Rocco reluctantly looked inside. At the hospital bed, with the machines beeping, and the woman laying prone in the bed.

Four years since the explosion at the Floating Rib. Four years since she’d gone out, leaving him at home. He didn’t even know if he’d said goodbye or hugged her. Probably not. He’d probably thought it was cringe.

“You don’t come to see her very much, do you?” His grandmother asked softly, and Rocco shook his head.

“There’s no point. She can’t even hear me,” Rocco managed, but he took a few steps inside the room. His mother’s long blonde hair was neatly brushed, laying in golden waves around her head. Her face was clean, but lax from someone who was sleeping but not really.

Her hands were folded over her abdomen, the way a body would be posed in a coffin, he thought. And that was all she was, wasn’t it? A living corpse with nothing inside?

“Your mother loves you so much, Rocco. It’s hard to remember that right now,” Laura said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But she wanted to be a mother so badly, and she went through such hell to make it happen. Maybe one day, I’ll tell you more. But she’d always tell me it was worth it just to have you in her life. With your sweet smile, and your daddy’s eyes. Your Spencer impulsiveness, your Falconieri temper. She used to worry about that combination, and I’d always tell her—I’d tell her that we’d be here to make sure you didn’t take any wrong turns. That we’d love you so much you’d never need to be angry at the world.”

He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t. His mom had always said he didn’t think before he spoke, that it would get him in trouble, but she’d usually laugh and promise to tell him all the stories about how they were exactly like. But she’d never get to tell him those stories now, would she?

“I came to see her last year,” Rocco said suddenly, surprising himself and his grandmother. “It was three years. I thought three years was long enough, and I came here, and I told her she needed to wake up because this was just stupid because if she wasn’t going to wake up, then maybe she should die already because then at least it’d be over.”

He heard his grandmother draw in an unsteady breath, but Laura didn’t say anything, so Rocco kept talking. “And then I heard myself, you know. I realized I was wishing my mother was dead, so I left and I went to a party, and when someone gave me a beer, I drank the whole thing and I forgot that I said it. And I felt better.” Now he looked at Laura. “So I kept drinking. And when that stopped working, I started getting high. And then doing both. And that worked. Because I wish my mother was here, and she’s not. She’s not dead, but she might as well be because this? Being stuck in between, not living but breathing? It’s stupid and I hate her for not dying, I hate you for keeping her alive, and I hate my dad for leaving and if he’d never left, she’d never have been out on a date with that guy. I hate myself for feeling that way. So I make sure I don’t think about it.”

He shrugged off Laura’s hand, and stalked out of the room, promising himself he’d never go back.

Webber House: Living Room

“I’m home,” Elizabeth called, looping her purse over a hook by the door and tossing her keys in the dish on the table.

She went to the kitchen, then leaned against doorframe, folding her arms and smirking. “I’m never going to get used to this.”

Jason, stirring something in a pot at the stove, turned to look at her, lifting his brows in question. He reached for the dishtowel over his shoulder to wipe his hands. “What?”

“You, in my kitchen. Being domestic.” She crossed the room to slide her arms around his waist and lifting her face for a kiss. “Or that,” she murmured against his lips.

“You know I can cook.” He rested his hands at her hips.

“Oh, I definitely remember that.” Elizabeth drew back slightly so that their eyes met. “The omelette you made me after—well, after we made Jake,” she teased, and he grinned. “You swore me to secrecy.”

“I think we’ve kept too many secrets,” he replied, and she sighed, letting her head fall against his chest. He kissed her hair, then stroked her back. “You worked all day, I didn’t. Why shouldn’t I make dinner?”

“I have no idea.” She kissed him again, then went to the fridge to get a bottle of water. “Where are the boys?”

“Jake and Danny are grounded in their rooms for the night. I told them we’d come up with the rest of their punishment later,” Jason added. “And Aiden’s in his room by choice. I think he said something about a cooking show he wanted to watch.”

“I’m still getting used to this stage of parenting,” Elizabeth said, sliding onto the stool at the island. “Where they’re in the house, but I don’t have to chase after them.” She played with the cap on her water. “Sometimes I miss when they were little, and I couldn’t let them out of my sight. Back when they had problems I could solve in a minute or less.”

“I wish I hadn’t missed all of that time,” Jason admitted. “Missing Jake — and Danny’s—childhoods—it’s a regret I’m going to carry with me.”

“But you’re here now, and that’s going to matter. I promise you. Carly didn’t find Bobbie until she was older than Jake and Danny, and you know that didn’t stop them from being close.” She bit her lip. “Did you talk to them at all? Because I’m still not sure what to do with them after today. What could have gotten into them? Danny throwing punches, Jake mouthing off to his principal? Every time I think they’ve got an ounce of common sense—” She made a face.

“Yeah, I talked to them. I…told them about my accident. About after. How learning how to control my impulses was important. And that sometimes, it was more effective to not let someone know they were pissing you off.” Jason grimaced. “I think it got through to them, but like you said — every time it feels like we’ve made some progress—”

“Two steps forward, eight steps back,” she finished, and he nodded. “You should give them lessons on how you used to make Taggert lose his temper all the time. You’d just stare at him with that blank face—oh, he’d make me so mad,” Elizabeth muttered. “He talked to you like you were garbage, defective, and you’d just have that stone face, and I’d always ruin it for you—” She stopped. “I think we know where Jake gets some of his mouth from.”

“He never bothered me until he started going after you,” Jason told her. He came around, tugged her to her feet. “And then Taggert realized that I’d take whatever he threw at me about me—but going after you—” He stroked her arms. “Jake gets it from both of us.”

Elizabeth smiled wistfully. “Sometimes I think about that girl, you know? Who I used to be, who you used to be, and I imagine going back in time and telling her how the story ends. Can you imagine telling those versions of us that one day we’d be talking about our son and which of our worst traits he inherited?” She laughed.

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’d be that surprising,” Jason said, and Elizabeth looked at him, surprised. “Not to me. I knew how I felt about you.”

“I thought maybe I was reading the signals wrong,” she said softly. “We were so young, and I didn’t know how to trust what I was feeling, much less that it was even possible you might feel the same way. Maybe you’re right. Maybe where we ended up wouldn’t be such a surprise.”

“I like where we are,” he said, kissing her forehead. She lifted her head, the way she’d wanted to on that long ago day in January and kissed him.

“Diane called,” she said, and he sighed, stroking her back again. “She expects the injunction to be lifted any day now. The FBI will be searching the Quartermaines again. The motion to dismiss is next week.”

“I know.”

“If it’s okay, maybe we don’t talk about it unless we have to. I want to pretend, just a little while longer, that the only thing we have to worry about is our teen-aged boys making stupid decisions.”

“It’s going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Jason told her, and she sighed. “I promise.”

She didn’t respond — what could she say? It wasn’t in his power to do anything about the situation. If it was, it would have already been over.

All she could do was hold on to the precious little normal they’d managed to carve out and hope for the best.

+45