Written in 56 minutes.

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Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

After getting the call that the house was mostly clear of mourners, Jason and Elizabeth headed over to the mansion with both boys. Jason left Elizabeth to remove Cameron’s coat in the foyer and went in first, with Jake in his arms.

Monica, seated on the sofa, jumped to her feet, her eyes almost desperate though she smiled. “You’re here. I wasn’t sure—I almost thought—” She glanced around him. “Where’s—”

“Elizabeth is behind me. We, uh, told Cameron,” Jason said. “I don’t know how much he understands. He might ask for her—”

“Oh. Oh.” Monica clasped her hands, looked at Edward who had also risen to his feet. “All right. We’ll handle that—is this—” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Jason. He looks just like you.”

“That’s what Elizabeth says.” Jason rubbed Jake’s back. “Jake, this is…” He glanced at Monica. “Do you want to be Grandma or—”

“Anything is fine. I’ll—” Monica nodded. “Anything.”

“Okay, this is Grandma Monica,” Jason said. He set Jake in his mother’s arms. The infant fussed for a moment until he realized his father wasn’t going anywhere, then he turned and focused his blue eyes on the woman holding him.

“Oh, Edward, do you see?” Monica beamed, looked at her father-in-law. “Just like Jason. And those are—”

“Lila’s eyes.” Edward nodded. “He’s beautiful,” he told Jason.

“I know—” Jason thought Jake actually looked more like Elizabeth, but he might be biased. He turned when he heard footsteps. Elizabeth appeared, holding Cameron by the hand. He’d cried for a while when they’d been at home, but then he’d seemed to bounce back.

“Hey, buddy.” Jason lifted Cameron in his arms, and Cam immediately ducked his head down, pressing against Jason’s chest, a little more shy than he usually was around strangers. Elizabeth came to his side, stroked her son’s back.

“Hey, Cam. We wanted you to meet people who are very important to me and Jason,” Elizabeth said.

“Important?” Cameron repeated. He peeked out to Edward. “Why?”

“This is my mother—” Jason pointed at Monica. “And that’s my grandfather.”

“Grandfather,” Cameron repeated. “Like grandma Audrey?”

“Yeah. Like Grandma Audrey. That’s your mother’s grandmother.” Jason hesitated. “This is Aunt Emily’s mom and grandfather, too.”

“Aunt Em.” Cameron rubbed his eyes, looked at Edward. “You know Aunt Em?”

“I do—I did,” Edward said, correcting himself. “She talked about you a lot. It’s nice to finally meet you, Cameron.”

“I Cameron Hardy Webber. Mommy says I named for my grandfathers,” Cameron reported.

“That’s a fine name. A good strong one. Your mother chose your name well.”

“Mommy very smart. Aunt Em is the wind now. Mommy said. And Jase says we can’t see her anymore.” Cameron paused. “I don’t like that.”

“Me either.”

“That’s my brother.” Cameron pointed at Jake. “Jase’s his daddy. Not mine, though.” He furrowed his brow, looked at Jason. “Where did my daddy go?”

“He had to work,” Jason said, a bit roughly.

“Oh. Yeah. My daddy had to go to work forever. Did Aunt Em have to go to work? Is that why she’s the wind now?”

Jason inhaled sharply, traded troubled glances with Elizabeth, hating that Cameron was pushing Lucky and Emily together in his head.

“Sometimes people have to leave us,” Edward said. “And we don’t always know why. It’s not fair, is it?”

“No. I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.”

Cameron sighed and laid his head back against Jason’s chest. “I okay. Jase said I got him. And I got Mommy and Jake. And Aunt Em is the wind, and it’s always windy, so she always there. Right, Mommy?”

“That’s right.” Elizabeth gently took Cameron into her arms. “And I have a really good idea, Cam. A way for you—for all us to keep feeling like Aunt Em is with us. She was Jason’s little sister. Just like Jake is your brother. You know that?”

“Yeah.”

“And Jason’s family is Jake’s family,” Elizabeth continued. “I think, if we ask really nice, you and I could be part of that family, too.”

Cameron frowned at her. “Yeah?” He looked at Edward, then at Monica, still holding Jake, then finally at Jason. “You want me and Mommy?”

“More than anything,” Jason said. “You already are my family. I want to share mine with you both.”

“Oh.” Cameron considered this. “Yes. Okay. What do I do?”

“Nothing. You just have to be you, and let us love you.” Jason said. He took Cam back from Elizabeth. “This is my grandfather, so he can be yours, too. And my mother can be your grandmother.” His throat tightened. “And maybe, if you want, I could be your dad.”

Cameron furrowed his little brow. “But daddys go away, don’t they? Do you have a daddy?”

“I did.” Jason took Cameron over to the mantel where there were several photos, including one of Alan. “That’s my dad. He died a few months ago. He’s with Aunt Emily now.”

Cameron studied the photo. “He went away. Just like my daddy.”

“Sometimes you can have two. Monica—” Jason turned, so Cameron could see her. “She was my second mom. I don’t remember my first one. She had to go away. Sometimes people do. And then if we’re lucky, someone can come and help love you.”

“I got a good mommy. Don’t need a second one.”

“No, of course not.” Jason winced. This hadn’t been the right time for this conversation. “And we don’t have to—”

“But I don’t got a daddy now,” Cameron continued, and Jason closed his mouth. “You Jake’s daddy, right?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s my brother.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Cameron leaned back against Jason’s chest. “I say yes. Mommy and I pick you.” Jason tightened his arms around him. “Can we pick Snelli, too?”

“Already did,” Elizabeth promised. She kissed the back of Cameron’s head, and smiled at Jason with  tears in her eyes.

Cameron nodded. “Good. Snelli is very good,” he told Edward. “Plays good games and drinks orange soda. Shares his pepperoni.”

“Sounds like some fine traits.” Edward cleared his throat. “Why don’t you come over and we’ll get to know each other? After all, Christmas is coming. You must have some idea what Santa should bring you and your brother.”

Jason nearly snorted as he set Cameron the sofa and he clambered over to sit next to his new grandfather. Trust Edward to cut right to the chase.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I should have—” he said to Elizabeth, but she shook her head, touched his shoulder.

“No. No, it was perfect. Emily was already his family. And I know it’ll make it easier for you,” Elizabeth said. She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching Cameron explain all about Spiderman to Edward, and Monica sitting in the armchair, counting Jake’s toes. “This was the right idea. I know it was awkward at first. But it’ll get easier.”

“Yeah. Though we’re going to have to keep an eye on Edward. He’ll have Cam in Harvard before dinner.” And on the fast-track to ELQ by sunset, Jason thought, but the idea just amused him. A few years ago, it would have made him furious. But he knew better now. He’d spent a decade running from his family — so fast and so far that he’d lost the chance to fix it. There would never be more time with Lila or Alan, but at least Emily knew how much he’d loved her.

He didn’t want those regrets with Monica, and he’d learn how to love Edward again. To hold on to Emily, he’d try almost anything.

“I’m going to tell them,” Jason said, suddenly. He reached for Elizabeth’s hand, brushing his fingertip over her ring. “It’ll make her happy. Is that okay?”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Jason cleared his throat, and both Monica and Edward looked up. “Uh, I wanted to—I mean, Elizabeth and I—I told you I was adopting Cameron, but we also—before—on Halloween,” he added awkwardly.

Deciding to give Jason a break, Elizabeth lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers so that the ring caught the light. “Jason asked me to marry him,” she said. “And I said yes.”

Monica smiled, her entire face radiating with happiness as she looked at Jason. “Really? Oh, that’s wonderful.” She rose to her feet, carrying Jake over to them so that she could hug Jason. “What lovely news.”

“Congratulations. Steve would be so excited.” Edward kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Audrey must be over the moon.”

“More than I thought she would be,” Elizabeth admitted. Cameron clapped his hands, grinning — he probably didn’t really understand but he always responded to the energy in the room.

Monica handed Jake to Edward so she could hug Jason more tightly. “Thank you. Thank you for this.”

“I wasn’t sure if this was the right—”

“No. No—” Monica’s eyes were damp with tears. “No. Emily loved you. She loved you both. And she loved those boys. And this is a good thing. A reminder that life will continue. I needed this. I needed to remember that there’s a future. It’s not right that she won’t be part of it, but you—sharing yours with me—” She hugged him again, and he felt his mother tremble in his arms. “It gives me hope.”

“I love you,” he murmured, and she pulled back, framing his face in her hands. “I know I don’t say it—”

“You don’t have to. You’re a parent, so you know. You love your children, and you send them off into the world.” Monica closed her eyes. “They’ll disappoint you. Make you furious. Worry you. Devastate you. But you always, always love you. Alan never stopped loving you, Jason. I hope you know that.”

“I wish—”

“He’s with us, you know. Always. Just like Emily. And Lila. We’ve just received a brutal mind that life isn’t just short — it’s also not guaranteed. We’ll make the best of what we’re given. No regrets,” she declared. She stepped back, squeezing his hands. Then looked at Elizabeth. “Thank you for sharing your beautiful children with me. For loving my son. For being the best friend my daughter could have asked for.”

“Thank you bringing her to Port Charles.” Elizabeth hugged Monica. “For giving her a second mother to love as much as she’d loved her first. She loved you so much.”

“You’ve chosen a good woman,” Edward told Jason as he came to stand next to Jason. He watched Monica examine Elizabeth’s ring. “I don’t have to tell you that, of course, but it can’t be left unsaid. She was Steve’s favorite.”

Jason frowned, looked at him. “Her grandfather?”

“Yes. He probably never told her that,” Edward admitted. “Steve always played fair, and you don’t mean to have favorite grandchildren. You can love them equally, but—well, there’s something about a granddaughter. Whenever Steve talked about Jeff’s kids, he just brightened when he talked about his little Lizzie. His dreamer who was going to paint the world and bring joy.”

Jason wondered if Elizabeth knew that — her family was such a sore point with her — especially her parents and her siblings. “Emily always defended you,” he found himself saying. “Even when you made her mad, she always told me you meant well. She spent years trying to explain you.”

“I wasn’t sure about Monica and Alan adopting her, bringing her into the family. Giving the Quartermaine name without any blood?” Edward made a face. “Wasn’t to be done. But then she was here, and you learn — well, it’s not about what’s in the blood, is it? She and Lila didn’t share a bit of DNA, but weren’t they the same? The joy, the love, the spirit — she was ours.”

“She was,” Jason murmured. And now she was gone. “That’s what I want for Cameron. The way we loved Emily. How Monica treated me—”

“That’s what we’ll have. Congratulations.” Edward extended his hand, and Jason shook it. “You’ve built a beautiful family. I hope there will be years of happiness ahead of you.”

 

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This was a bit shorter than the other parts, but some of the conversations took a bit longer to write, so I decided not to rush anything. This was also a scene I wasn’t planning to write, but I thought we needed a bit of a break from all the sadness. See you Monday!

Written in 70 minutes. Final scene took a bit of extra time because I wanted to do it right.

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Queen of Angels: Chapel

Elizabeth’s hands were trembling as she stepped up to the podium at the front of the chapel. She raised her eyes to look at the gathering, at the pews filled with family, friends, and anyone whose lives Emily had touched.

There were doctors and nurses, old friends from college, from high school —

Her hands trembled slightly, the paper she held rustling. She opened her mouth, then closed as it as the first breath held a hint of a sob, and she wanted so badly to do this well. To do right by Emily.

Monica sat in the front pew, Jason next to her, holding his mother’s arm. There was a space where Elizabeth had once sat, and then the rest of the Quartermaines on the side. Ned, Edward, Tracy, Dillon —

She found Jason’s eyes, then just behind him, Lucky’s. And something passed between them, some hint of the sweetness that had been there once. They’d been falling in love at the same time she and Emily were becoming friends. Emily would always tie them together — and now she was gone. Just like he’d been once.

“I’m not really sure how to do this,” Elizabeth confessed. She dipped her eyes down to the paper, to the words she’d struggled to produce. “It’s—it’s not the first time I’ve spoken about Emily and what she means to me. A few years ago, I gave a toast at her wedding—” She found Nikolas’s angry, devastated gaze—far away from his family. “I wished her happiness on that day. I wished her joy.”

Elizabeth hesitated, swallowed as her voice threatened to break. She cleared her throat. “It’s easier to speak of joy, of happiness when the promise of tomorrow seems so fresh and sweet. When the future is in front of you, and you think the best is yet to come. Over the last few days, it’s been a struggle not to dwell on the fact that I’m standing up here at all — that I have to speak about Emily in the past. There’s almost a comfort in the anger, in the rage that statement brings me. In the regrets of the days where we didn’t speak or fights that we had. There should have been more time—”

The paper crinkled as she tightened her hands. As she thought of minutes, hours, and days lost while Emily was in California—

“I can’t stay angry forever. I can’t think about the way Emily left us. And none of us should. I know the people gathered here today feel the way I do. Emily walked into all of our lives without warning, changed it forever, and now—and now she’s gone. Without warning. And we’re left to look for understanding where there can be no comprehension.”

She released the paper to swipe at a tear that escaped. She set the paper down and looked up. “Emily brought something to us all. She was my best friend. She was more of a sister to me than my own. She taught me how to dance, the best way to drink hot chocolate—I tried to teach her to draw—it didn’t really go that well—” She laughed at the memory. “I know she tried to teach Nikolas to dance, too. I think she was more successful —” She found Nikolas again and this time he was smiling. “She loved fiercely and fully and sometimes recklessly. When she tried to run away to Puerto Rico to find Juan, Jason, you didn’t even yell at her. Or tell her parents—I’m sure they’d have been horrified. She knew she could count on you to always stand by her.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “When Emily left for California for rehab after her accident, and then stayed for college, it was so hard. I didn’t know how be without her everyday. I knew, even if she came home, it wouldn’t be the same. And it wasn’t. But it was better somehow. She was there when I brought my son home, and she loved my boys as if they were her own. When I think of everything she’s going to miss — everything she never gets to do — the thought paralyzes me. The grief returns and it threatens to swallow me hole. I want nothing more than to go back in time, to go back to those silly little girls in Kelly’s, laughing and drinking hot chocolate. Three packets, split two ways. With sprinkles. I want to go to work and see her, I want her to be there—” Elizabeth bowed her head, took another moment. “I want  the possibility of more time because we deserved it. Emily deserved it, and I shouldn’t be standing here.”

She dragged her hands over her cheeks, took one last deep breath. “When that happens, when I feel that relentless wave crashing over me again, I stop. I reach for a memory. I reach for the joy.” Elizabeth smiled. “I find it, you know. Because it’s never far away. I find the joy, I find the love. And I can breathe again.”

She met Monica’s eyes. “When this loss overwhelms you, when it hits you as it will in the days, weeks, months, and years to come, I hope you will remember to stop. To think of the best moment. The funniest. The sweetest. And that it will bring you the love and joy Emily brought to us. And holding on to that, and not the tragedy that brings us here, will help you remember how to breathe again.”

Queen of Angels: Churchyard

“Do you mind?”

Elizabeth glanced up, found Robin standing by the stone bench where she sat. She scooted down. “No, of course not.”

Robin sat, and looked across the church yard where Monica stood with Jason and Nikolas. “You were right, you know. We shouldn’t be here. None of us should.” She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. She pressed her lips together. “When I came by the penthouse the other day, I, um, saw that you were wearing a ring. I just didn’t know—I didn’t know if I should ask—”

Elizabeth held out her hand, the diamond winking at her. “He asked me that night. Maybe two hours before we got the call.” She shook her head. “I never got to tell her, you know. Which is such a selfish way to think about it.”

“That’s what grief really is,” Robin murmured. “It’s the pain of knowing you move forward and they don’t. How do you forgive yourself for breathing? For living when they can’t? What makes you so much better that—” She sucked in a breath. “When Stone died, I wanted to die with him. I thought I would. That the HIV would become AIDS, and I’d be with him. That I was never going to be a doctor. That no one would ever love me again.”

Elizabeth reached for her hand, squeezed it. Robin exhaled. “And then I started the protocol and I’ve been basically healthy ever since. And I was so angry — why couldn’t Stone have had this? What made me more deserving of living when he’d had to die? Why did I get to have a future at all? Forgiving yourself for just…it’s so hard. Because you have to accept there’s nothing to forgive. Nothing you can do. Life is supposed to keep moving. And you can’t stay locked in the moment you lost someone.”

“You’d think you’d hold on to that,” Elizabeth murmured. “When I lost Lucky, this was what it felt like. The pain of just breathing, of waking up and remembering that she’s not here — I’ve done this before. I know it gets better. But now I have to do it again, and it’s just—it’s not right. It’s not fair.”

“Emily never gets to find out you’re marrying Jason. She never gets to be part of it,” Robin murmured. “And Georgie—she never gets to be—” She looked at Elizabeth. “I was supposed to go that night. Not Leyla. It was supposed to be me with Emily. But it wasn’t. It was Leyla. I stayed back to take a test. I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant—” Elizabeth’s lips parted. “With—”

“Patrick took it pretty well, all things considered. He already started mapping out plans. Diets. Routines.” She smiled faintly. “He’s going to borrow your kids so we can simulate taking care of a newborn. It’s so strange, you know? To think we broke up because he didn’t want them. And now he’s—studying like his life depends on it.” Robin closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s—life. Life keeps moving.” Elizabeth nodded. “I’m happy for you. For Patrick. I think he’s going to surprise himself, to be honest. He was so afraid of screwing up — he’s going to drive you insane for the next…well, forever, really.”

“I’m happy for you, too,” Robin said. “For Jason. He was such a good father, and I’m glad he gets to have that again. That you both get to have that.” She wound her arm through Elizabeth’s. “But it sucks that Emily isn’t here.”

“It sucks that Georgie isn’t,” Elizabeth told her. “She’d be such a good aunt. And she’d probably help keep Patrick from going insane. She handled Spinelli beautifully.”

“I know you’re right — that we should focus on the love we felt for Emily. And not how we lost her — how we lost Georgie. And Leyla and Chelsea. But it’s hard when I think of the days ahead. Of all the moments that were stolen. It’s hard not to be angry.”

“Yeah, it was more of an…aspirational way of living. The anger isn’t going anywhere soon. I hope they find him before another family has to grieve.”

——

It had been such a stroke of luck that the funeral had been open to the public. He wandered around the courtyard, nodding and murmuring condolences, sharing his shock with others he worked with at the hospital. Such a tragedy. A terrible loss.

What a mistake.

He stopped, pausing as a pair of women came into view across the church yard. He perked up  when he realized that pretty Robin Scorpio was sitting with another dark-haired women. A nurse. He knew her. He’d seen her at the hospital. Elizabeth Webber.

A doctor and a nurse. And they were friendly, so finding them together —

Yes, a mistake had been made. But he could still fix it. He could still make it right. Two doctors, two nurses.  Yes, it would all make sense then. Pairs. Matching sets. Yes, it would be okay. He’d be able to breathe again.

He’d be able to fix everything.

—

Jason put a hand on Monica’s arm, having caught Tracy’s eye and the tap on her wrist. It was time to start moving back to the house, to the reception that he and Elizabeth were already planning to skip, but he wanted to make sure Monica got back in the car.

But Monica wasn’t so easy to move. She hadn’t wanted to leave the chapel where the coffin had been laid out — and now to leave the church yard — to leave Emily behind —

“Mom,” he said, the unfamiliar word still awkward on his lips, but not painful. He’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to waste any more time and if he didn’t call Monica Mom — there was no one else left who would. And making that right was more important than his comfort. “We should head over to the car.”

“Oh. Oh—” Monica nodded. “Yes. Yes. Where’s Elizabeth? Have you—” She started to search the church yard.

“She’s right there, with Robin,” Jason said. He was also breathing a bit more easily as Elizabeth and Robin started to walk towards them. Patrick fell in with the duo, and he felt even better.

“All right—” Monica stopped, then her hand reached out, practically latching onto the arm of someone who passed by them. “Mac. Mac, wait—”

The commissioner winced, turned. “Monica—”

“You—you haven’t returned any of my calls.” Her fingers curled into his coat. “Tell me you have a lead. That you have something you can say—that you know who did this to my daughter—”

Mac covered Monica’s hand. “There’s nothing I can tell you yet—”

“No! No!” Monica shook her head. “No! That’s not right. It’s been days. It’s been weeks—” Her voice started to climb, draw attention from those around them. Tracy, who had just loaded Edward into a car with Dillon, started over, flanked by Ned.

“Monica, these things take time—”

“How many more have to die?” Monica demanded. “How many more girls? Women? How can you not know anything?”

“I’m sorry—” Mac tried to remove Monica’s hand, but her fingers had become almost claw-like. Jason grimaced, unsure if he was supposed to drag her away from the commissioner.

“Monica—” Tracy said briskly. “Why don’t we—”

“No! No!” Monica shook off her sister-in-law, but released Mac. “No! You didn’t even like Emily! You considered her an interloper! A thief stealing from your children! You don’t get to tell me anything—” Her voice broke. “I want justice—I want—I want—” She squeezed her eyes tightly, wrapping her arms around herself. “I want my daughter—”

And then her knees gave out and Jason had to grab her, to help her stay standing. Ned was at Monica’s other side. “Come on,” Jason said, taking his mother’s arm, winding it through his own. “Let’s go back to the house. Okay? It’s cold.”

Monica started to walk now, numbly allowing Jason and Ned to lead her away. “I just want my baby. Why can’t I have her? Why?”

“I’ve got it, Jason,” Ned said, after they put her into the car, Tracy sliding in after. “I know you and Elizabeth wanted to get home to the boys.”

“Yeah.” Jason felt Elizabeth step up, slid her arm around his waist. “We’re—we’re going to bring them by.”

“It’ll give them something to focus on.” Ned got into the limo, and then it pulled out of the drive. Jason stared after them.

“We can go to the house now,” Elizabeth said. He looked at her. “You know Carly wouldn’t mind staying longer.”

“I know. I just—I need a minute. Away—” He glanced around the church yard. At the sea of people wearing black and other dark colors. “I need to go home.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Carly sprang up from the sofa when they opened the door. “Hey. Hey. Um—Jake is napping upstairs, and Cameron was, too. I don’t know if he’s awake yet—”

“I’ll go check,” Elizabeth said, brushing her hand across Jason’s chest as she passed him. “Thanks, Carly.”

“Yeah.” Carly waited until Elizabeth had disappeared around the landing. “Hey. It’s stupid to ask how it went or how you are. It’s just—it’s what you say.” She folded her arms.

Jason dropped his keys on the desk. “Thank you. For staying with them.”

“Yeah. Of course. I wanted to go. To be there for you, but I knew—well, you know, I wanted to be useful, and this is how to help you.” Carly’s eyes filled. “I just wanted to be help.”

“You did.” Jason hesitated. “When Courtney—when she died. How did you tell the boys? Did—did they understand?”

Carly smiled wistfully. “Michael did more than Morgan. Which always seemed like a such a tragedy, you know. Courtney took such good care of Morgan when he was born, and he won’t really remember her—” She took a deep breath. “I told them that Aunt Courtney had to go away. That she loved them so much, and that she’d always be watching them. I don’t know if there’s another way to do it. There’s nothing you can say. Someone who loved them unconditionally, without boundaries, is gone. And that’s just…that’s just how it is.”

“Yeah.” Jason nodded, his chest tight. “Yeah. That’s how it is.”

“I’ll leave you guys to handle it. Or to just be alone with them or together—” Carly bit her lip. “It seems silly now, doesn’t it? All the time you waste hating someone when it doesn’t matter.” She hugged him briefly, but fiercely. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Elizabeth returned downstairs a few minutes after Carly had gone, carrying a sleepy Cameron, still rubbing his eyes. “Hey. Look who I found,” she said. “Someone was waking up.”

“Hey.” Jason smiled at she came over and handed Cameron to him. The little boy tucked himself into Jason’s embrace, rubbing his face against Jason’s black sweater. “Did you have fun with Aunt Carly?”

“She play good race car,” Cameron mumbled. “Not as good as Aunt Em. Can she come play?”

Jason’s hand stilled as it stroked Cameron’s curls. He looked at Elizabeth, then sighed. “Let’s go sit down, buddy. We need to talk.”

Elizabeth followed them over to the sofa, and they sat together, Cameron laying against Jason’s chest, Elizabeth curled up against his side, her head on his shoulder.

“Aunt Emily loves you and Jake a lot, you know that, right?”

“To the sky and Jupiter and back,” Cameron said. “She always says.”

“Yeah.”

“Aunt Emily can’t come over and play,” Elizabeth said. Cameron frowned. He sat up so that he was facing them both.

“Why?”

“Because she had to go away,” Jason said. “And she can’t come back anymore. Not where we can see her.”

“But I don’t want her to go away.”

“Me either, baby.” Elizabeth took a moment to gather herself. “But sometimes people have to go when they don’t want to. Even when there’s people who need them. Who love them. But Aunt Emily will always be here—” She touched Cameron’s heart. “Where you can’t see her, but you can feel her.”

Cameron’s lip trembled, and he looked at Jason. “Did she go away like my daddy? Daddy had to work. You said. So he left. And Aunt Em. You go away?”

“No. No, I’m not going anywhere,” Jason said, roughly. “Mommy and I are right here. And we’re not leaving.”

“I want her to stay. Tell her to come back and play.” Tears began to slide down his cheeks and his voice broke up. “Tell her to stay where I can see her.”

“She can’t, baby. It’s not like that.” Elizabeth pulled Cameron into her arms, rocking him as he continued to cry. “She can’t.”

“She’ll always be with you,” Jason said. “Just like your mom said.”

“Always,” Elizabeth promised. “You know how sometimes you can feel the wind on your cheeks when we go out?”

“Yeah.”

“Aunt Emily is right there. She’ll always be there. She’ll never stop loving you, and she’ll never stop taking care of you. She’s like the wind, baby. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. She’ll never go away. She’ll always be there.”

Cameron continued to cry, and Jason wrapped his arms around them both, wishing he could break apart like a small child, because he wanted the same thing. He wanted his sister to come back where he could see her, too.

---

Note: Pieces of Elizabeth’s eulogy were not written today. Like you guys know, my friend passed away suddenly last year after a brief battle with Stage 4 cancer. At her memorial service, I was asked to speak which I thought was going to be really difficult. I thought — how do I ever put what I’m feeling into words? I thought I’d struggle over it for days. And then 6:30 AM four days before the service, I woke up, and I just wrote. I wrote the entire thing in a rush of words in about 30 minutes. And I just — I don’t know a better way to talk about losing someone you love so much, so I’m just going to plagiarize myself. I hope you guys don’t mind. The original is here. 

Written in 58 minutes.

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PCPD: Squad Room

Lucky grimaced as he flipped through the list of contractors, employees, and security guards who had access to the Port Charles University campus on any given day. It was an insurmountable number — and that was when you excluded the male students. Pages and pages of names—

They’d never get through the whole thing. Not if they had a thousand years to investigate — and Lucky didn’t think they would have even a month or two. Six weeks between the murders. He’d read about this — the cooldown period. Some serial killers stuck to it, some stretched it further, and some escalated—

He wasn’t an expert, but he thought maybe they were looking at an escalation—

“Lucky?”

He jerked his head up, found his sister by his desk. “Lu. What are you—”

“I, um—” She set a white bag on the desk. “I brought you food. From Kelly’s. I didn’t know if you’d eat—” Lulu looked at him. “I left Nikolas alone. I don’t know if that was the right thing, but he was angry, and I was starting to get pissed, and I just—” She looked away. “He’s blaming you and Liz, like it’s crazy. He won’t blame himself. You’d think he’d blame the bastard who killed—” She took a breath. “Anyway. I thought maybe I’d just let him wallow over there without anyone to yell at.”

“He didn’t do much better when he lost Courtney last year,” Lucky reminded her, unpacking the food. “Thanks.”

“Yeah. I don’t know what else I could do. Um, I called Dillon, but it’s just family at the house. And Spinelli—” Lulu cleared her throat. “Well, he’s got his hands full, and I didn’t know if seeing Cameron would confuse him.”

Lucky’s hands stilled. “He’s watching the boys?”

“Yeah. Yeah, um, Jason and Liz went to the Qs.” Lulu bit her lip. “Should I not have said that? Because—”

“No, no, it’s—how things are. I need to hear that. Uh, I don’t know what Liz wants to do about any of that. I doubt she’d tell you that Cameron is off limits to you.” After all, she’d been willing to let Lucky have visitation rights, hadn’t she? Until he’d screwed it up.

“Yeah, but I feel like today isn’t really the time to push it. It’s, um, it’s weird. Emily’s just—she’s always been there. Or at least it feels like it. And now she’ll never be here again. And I was just getting used to that with Georgie—” Lulu closed her eyes. “Anyway. Sorry. Um, I just want to be helpful. Do something.”

“Thanks, Lu. You’re doing enough.”

“I know you can’t really tell me anything, but—this guy—he’s out there. And he didn’t stop after Georgie and Chelsea.” Lulu waited for him to meet her gaze. “Should I be worried? Or scared?”

“Don’t go anywhere after dark,” he said finally. “Even in pairs. I guess that’s all I can say right now.”

“I guess. You’ll tell me if you need anything? I’m here, Lucky. I want to help.”

“You’ll be the first call.”

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

Tracy’s tone was gentle as she slid a pamphlet across the table towards Monica. “I circled the options that I thought—” She shifted, uncomfortable. “What I thought might work best, that is.”

Monica placed a hand over it. “I can’t—I can’t do this. Get whatever you want.” She rose to her feet. “I need—I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just need to lay down.” She looked at Elizabeth. “You knew Emily. You can—I just—” She rose, and left the room.

Jason, sitting on the sofa with Ned and Dillon, looked after her. He and Elizabeth locked eyes for a moment, before she looked at Tracy, picked up the pamphlet.

“These are good choices,” Elizabeth said. “Um, clean. Elegant. Emily really—she—her tastes really changed. Since we were teenagers.”

Tracy sighed. “I don’t know how anyone does this. How do you—” She shook her head. “How do you bury a child?”

“I hope I never have to find out,” Elizabeth murmured. She rubbed her her hands over her denim-clad thighs. “It’s good of you to look after the details. Um, for the services. And for—” Her throat tightened. “For the burial, too. Um, I’m sure there’s a lot—”

“There’s a space between Alan and my mother,” Tracy said. “It was meant for Monica—but…” She dipped her head. “Thank God my mother didn’t live to see this year. I never thought I’d be grateful that she went first. She wouldn’t have survived losing Alan and Emily within a year. I don’t know how my father is handling any of it.”

“Like you said, how does anyone?” Elizabeth sighed. “It doesn’t feel real yet. I don’t know how it ever will.” Tears stung her eyes, and she touched her cheeks, took another deep breath. “What’s left? What can I help with?”

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

Jason didn’t know how they managed to stay as long as they did, or if it had done anyone any good. Monica had pulled herself together for a little while, and he’d been grateful to have done something. But then she’d left the room—

He helped Elizabeth on her coat, almost too eager to leave this place, to go back to the penthouse where Cameron and Jake might distract him. He just wanted to forget about this for a few minutes.

Just as they reached the doors, Jason heard someone call his name. Edward, leaving the front parlor. “Jason, I’m sorry,” he said. “I was hoping to talk to you for a minute. If you have it.”

Elizabeth took the keys he already had in his hand. “I’ll start the car,” she said.

Jason grimaced, wishing he was leaving with her, but then turned to his grandfather. “What did you need?”

“I—” Edward suddenly looked old, tired. Defeated. “Thank you. For coming today. For Monica. She—well. She needed to see you. And for promising to bring the children. She’ll need something to look forward to.”

Jason nodded, still a bit mystified as to why Edward had stopped him for any of this. “Yeah, well…” he trailed off, a bit awkward.

“You’re not supposed to bury your own son, you understand,” the old man said suddenly. “I always told Lila that I had to go first because I didn’t want to do this without her, and now—” He closed his eyes. “There were mistakes made. Things said. When you were younger. I’m not saying I was wrong—”

Jason almost smiled, because that sounded like the man he’d always known. “No, I didn’t think you were.”

“It’s just—you look around, and suddenly, you’re almost alone. And the house—it’s so quiet now. Emily—” Edward looked at him. “She was the light. She and Lila. They brought the joy into this home. And now it’s just a house without them. You’re not supposed to bury a son, and you’re sure as hell not supposed to bury a granddaughter eight months later.”

“No. No, you’re not.” What would that be like? How would you get out of bed? “I can’t replace Emily,” he said. “I can’t—I can’t make up for her not being here—” He paused. “But I know Emily loved you all. There’s probably a reason for that. So when I bring the boys over—you can be there. If you want.”

“Thank you. That would—that would be wonderful.” Edward cleared his throat. “Well, you ought not to leave the wonderful woman waiting too long.”

Jason left then, went to the SUV parked in the driveway, and climbed in. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel, then looked at Elizabeth, sitting in the passenger’s seat, her eyes closed, leaning against the headrest.

“I think I could actually sleep now,” she murmured. She opened one eye, looked at him. “Doesn’t that sound insane? But if I sleep, I’ll wake up. And I’ll forget. And then I’ll remember.”

And in the remembering, it would hit all over again. Jason exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I know.”

“I don’t know how Monica is standing. How any of them are. How you are,” she added, looking at him again, her eyes fully open now. He met her gaze. “You lost Alan, too. And now Emily. It’s…God, it’s obscene. That’s what it is. It’s enough to make you lose faith in any kind of higher being.”

“I never let him be my father,” Jason murmured. “I never gave him a chance. Even after there was Michael, I almost understood. What if he stopped knowing me? And he did, you know. I mean, he knows me,” he clarified. “But he doesn’t think of me as his father anymore. How would it be if after twenty-two years, Cameron came home and didn’t know us?”

“You did the best you could after your accident—”

“No. No, I didn’t. Because there were times when I almost—I almost felt something,” Jason admitted. “When I was still living there, Alan came and he talked to me. And he told me about how proud he was that I was going to be a doctor, that I wanted to be like him. And I could see how much he missed that son.” He exhaled slowly. “But he always pushed too hard. And he hated that I worked for Sonny.”

“And he tried to take Michael away from you,” Elizabeth reminded him. “Emily told me about that. You went to her birthday party, and they wouldn’t give Michael back. Alan made mistakes, Jason. It’s not all on you.”

“Yeah. I know. But he stopped pushing, and he disappeared from my life. And now I never get to—I never get to apologize.”

She reached out, brushed her fingertips through his hair, which he’d let grow long. “And neither does he. But he loved you, Jason. Just like you’ll always love Michael. And the way you love Jake and Cameron. You know that he loved you.”

“Yeah. Well—I don’t want those regrets when Edward—or my mother—I don’t want it,” Jason said.

“We won’t. The boys will know them both. And they’ll get stories of Emily and Lila and Alan through the family that’s left.”

He took her hand, kissed the inside of her palm. “Let’s go home.”

Robin’s Condo: Living Room

“Oh, Robin—” Lainey jumped up, ran straight to her as Robin stepped inside the condo they shared. “I’m so glad you’re here. That you came home—”

“It’s terrible—” Kelly sniffled, yanking another Kleenex from the box. “I keep thinking what if we’d made her clock out early or—”

Robin stroked Lainey’s hair, went to hug Kelly. “I know. I still keep thinking it’s a terrible dream.”

“The worst one. This guy is out there—do you think he was in the parking garage when we left?” Lainey said. She shivered.

Robin hung up her coat, draped her purse over the same hook. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about the investigation.”

“Oh. I thought you were your uncle last night. I figured after Georgie—” Kelly frowned. “Did you stay at the hospital, or—”

“I went to Patrick’s.” Robin took a deep breath when Kelly and Lainey exchanged a look. “I know what you’re going to say—”

“I just—I worry that you’re going to hurt again. Like, I get leaning on him. He’s got a certain something,” Lainey said. “But—”

“Look, there’s going to be—” Robin grimaced. “There’s going to be some changes. And I should—I didn’t tell you this a few weeks ago because we’d just have this conversation, but I went to Patrick’s after Georgie’s service, too.” She bit her lip. “We spent the night together and now I’m pregnant.”

Kelly’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”

“That’s—that’s a pretty change. Is—did Patrick take it okay?”

“Better than I did, honestly,” Robin admitted. She went over to their kitchen, poured a glass of water. “I don’t know if we’re back together, but he’s important to me. And he’s handling this better than I have a right to expect. Um, Kelly, he needs a blood test, though. I know it’s not your area—”

“I’ll set it  up. Yeah, whatever you need, babes. And we’ll get you in an appointment, too. I’ll make some calls, get the  guidelines for an HIV pregnancy.” Kelly folded her arms. “But—he was happy?”

“Terrified,” Robin said, with a smile. “But while I was sleeping, he started researching online, went out to an all night store to get me caffeine-free tea, and had a plan when I woke. He’s going to study for it like it’s his boards exam, and he’s lining us an internship so we can practice.”

Lainey’s eyes lit with amusement. “An internship for parents? I’m almost scared to ask.”

“He’s going to borrow Elizabeth’s kids for a weekend. Whether or not she agrees us using he boys as guinea pigs—” She shook her head. “I know you were both angry with him—”

“We were talking about that,” Kelly interrupted. “Um, we feel stupid. And petty. And catty. And all the adjectives. To think that we froze Emily out for a few weeks—” Her voice cracked. “We were just—we were so stupid, and we can’t fix it now, you know? It’s over. We can’t. So we’re going to figure it out. Lainey’s going to grovel with Liz—”

Lainey made a face. “Yeah, I’ll make it right between us. Or make it so it’s not awkward anymore. Whatever I have to do, Robin. We love you, and you’re about to do something really scary and wonderful, and we’re going to take care of you.” She put an arm around Robin’s shoulders. “We promise.”

“Thanks.” Robin leaned her head against Lainey’s shoulder for a moment. “I need you guys. I don’t want us to fight anymore.”

“We won’t.” Kelly wrapped her arms around both of them.

“Oh, God, I feel just awful for Elizabeth—” Lainey said, pulling back, swiping tears from her eyes. “And poor Jason. His sister.”

“I have to call them. I want to check in. See what I can do.” Robin sighed. “But first I want a shower and a nap.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

The penthouse was eerily quiet when they entered. Jason dropped his keys on the desk, picked up a white sheet of paper. “Didn’t want to bother you while you were with the Quartermaines, but I wanted to give you some peace and quiet when you came home. You both need to sleep. Spinelli and I are taking the boys to the park, and then all three of them are going to spend the night with me. Rest. I love you.” He looked at Elizabeth. “Your grandmother.”

“I can’t decide if I’m grateful or annoyed. I was kind of counting on Cameron to get my mind off everything,” Elizabeth admitted. “But she’s right. We didn’t sleep last night, and there’s—there’s a lot to do in the next few days.” She dragged a hand through her hair. “Do we tell Cameron?”

Jason hesitated, looked at her. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I mean, we haven’t spent a lot of time with them since we found out, so he probably doesn’t know anything is wrong.”

“But he will. He’s sensitive to that. When you’re sad, when you’re happy—Cameron always seems to notice.” She sighed, went over to the sofa. “How do we tell a three-year-old his aunt won’t ever come back?” Tears spilled over her lashes, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling her sobs.

Jason sat next to her, pulled her into his arms. “We’ll tell him that his aunt Emily loved him so much, and that she’ll watch over him, and look after him. It’s all we can do.” He stroked her back, kissed her forehead. “Come on. Let’s go see if we can get some rest. We’ll take a nap, and then we’ll go out on the bike.” He wanted the rush of the wind again. Maybe with it not being so fresh, this time it would help. “Come on,” he repeated, tugging her to her feet and towards the stairs.

Written in 65 minutes.

---

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“All right, here’s where we stand at—” Robert checked his watch. “Eight in the morning. Both victims were officially identified as Emily Quartermaine and Leyla Mir. Preliminary autopsy results suggest that both victims received blows to the head before being strangled by a thin wire, a wire that was found around Emily’s neck.”

He glanced over at Lucky standing by the window. “Spencer, are you sure you want to be here for this?”

“If you’re not kicking me off the case, then yeah.” Lucky exhaled. “Yeah. Keep going.”

“All right. We’ve received the cameras from the hospital parking garage. The ladies exit the elevator at 9:23 PM and walk towards their car. Three minutes later, a dark figure appears in the frame. He’s crouched behind a car.” Robert laid down a still. “He creeps up behind Leyla and hits her on the head. The medical examiner suggests that she was unconscious from this blow. He tosses Leyla aside as Emily turns, startled by the noise. She is also knocked unconscious.”

Mac grimaced. “That’s how he gets two at a time. Chelsea Rae was intoxicated, easily knocked out. He—he killed her second though. The wire—”

“Yes. Both women were dragged off camera and manually strangled. Our guy comes back into frame at 9:35 and walks away. His back remains to the camera, and he never shows his face. All we have is a body type and possible height. He’s dressed in black, wearing a ski cap over his face.”

“It happened around 9:30,” Lucky murmured. “Shift change. Even if the assault was noted on the camera, there’d be no one to see it.” He looked at Mac. “He knows the hospital.”

“He knew the campus too. The location of the first—” Mac tightened his mouth. “It was in a camera’s blind spot. I don’t believe he gets lucky twice. The cord, Robert, is it the same?”

“Yes. We have skin cells that we’re going to test, but I suspect we’ll find that it’s from both ladies. He wore gloves.”

“What about defensive wounds? Emily was still conscious—”

“Just like Georgie, we have some material under the nails. They’ve already been shipped out. That will tell us for sure if we have the same guy.” Robert took a seat. “Hospital canvas is out. Most people are accounted for — not a lot of the staff works alone. We had Patrick Drake and his staff on the operating floor, the nursing staff making their rounds. It’s a quiet time of the night, except in the emergency room. Still have to nail down a few construction workers. They were working on the ICU.”

“How many people left the hospital last night?” Mac wanted to know. “Were Emily and Leyla random? Would he have chosen anyone who walked past at shift change?”

“That’s possible. Uh, I need to follow up with Robin sometime today. How many people knew their plans, etc. I know your worries about Georgie and Robin, Mac, and we’re looking into it. Maxie has extra security?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Uh, Coop is with her now, but we have uniforms on the house.” Mac shook his head. “We don’t have anything. We have him on camera, but we don’t have anything at all—”

“It takes time to go through everything. The wire? We’re going to trace it. He’s used the same type twice. And Spencer, you were working on something?”

“Checking anyone who had access to the campus. Longshot, but I figured the blind spot meant that someone knew the security.” Lucky rubbed the side of his face, his eyes red, his movements sluggish. He hadn’t yet slept. “Uh, I had a thought about the flowers and phone calls, actually. I don’t think Emily was getting anything. She would have said something to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth knew about those because of Spinelli. I’ll follow up later—”

“You can handle that?” Mac asked. “You just had that custody—”

“Elizabeth and I are—” Lucky paused, looked up. “It doesn’t matter. Emily matters. Yeah, I can handle it. She and Jason will cooperate. For Emily. But only Georgie was getting strange calls. Chelsea wasn’t. The flowers weren’t addressed to either of them. I wondered if maybe whoever did this was just trying to learn about them. They were obviously targeted and planned, Mac. The flowers? Can he get inside the dorm rooms? The phone calls? Would Georgie answer them? The last hang up, Mac, it’s just before they left the party.”

Mac frowned. “You didn’t tell me that?”

“It was a different burner phone. I just finished logging every phone number yesterday. I wonder if it was meant to worry Georgie. To encourage her to leave. We’ll never know for sure, Mac. But I don’t think it was personal stalking.”

“You think he was gathering information.”

“They were his first kills. Emily and Leyla?” Lucky closed his eyes, tried to order his thoughts. It had seemed so clear the night before. “It’s more public. The garage. It’s not the middle of the night. It’s not a deserted, blind spot on campus. It’s not a pair of slightly tipsy college kids.”

“Escalation of the risk.” Robert nodded. “I follow that. He gained his experience, wanted to challenge himself. Maybe he had a different way of getting his information. Continue looking into who had access with the campus. Find an overlap with the hospital.” He looked at Mac. “We might not have much yet, Mac, but we have leads to follow. We’re going to find him.”

“I’m sure that will comfort the Quartermaines.”

Wyndemere: Study

Lulu set down a tray with coffee mugs on the desk, looked at her brother still brooding at the fire. She had dozed a bit before dawn, but hadn’t been able to find any peace. After Nikolas had lashed out at Lucky, their brother had headed back to the mainland to rejoin the investigation.

Lulu didn’t really know what to do. How to handle any of this. She wished her mother were still here. Or maybe Aunt Bobbie. She could always comfort someone, but just her? She was a screw-up just figuring things out. Definitely not up to the task of talking to someone who’d lost the love of their life.

“I have coffee, Nikolas. And Mrs. Lansbury is putting together some breakfast. You should eat. Spencer will be up later, and—”

“I don’t want anything.”

Lulu licked her lips. “I know, but you still need to eat. And stay healthy. For Spencer. And-and you know, Emily wouldn’t want—”

“Don’t talk to me about what Emily would want. You don’t know anything about it.” Nikolas flicked his eyes to her. “You testified against Lucky. You know this is his fault.”

“I testified for Cameron,” Lulu said carefully. “Emily isn’t dead because she chose Elizabeth’s side during the divorce. She didn’t even testify. Lucky didn’t even go that hard. Not at the custody hearing. I mean, he backed down. Emily was happy about that.”

“She was angry at me because I chose Lucky—” Nikolas rose to his feet, went to the mantel.

“You didn’t just choose Lucky,” Lulu said, unthinkingly, and Nikolas whirled around, glaring. She swallowed but forged on. “You paid for his lawyer. And-and you fought with Elizabeth. Emily was mad at you for those reasons—”

“Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Maybe not, but Lucky didn’t kill Emily, so it’s not her fault. And you know what else?” Lulu planted her hands at her hips. “Emily isn’t the one who had an affair which led to the divorce—”

“You can get out, too.”

“Fine,” Lulu snapped. “You sit here and wallow in your misery, pushing away people who care about you. That’s a great idea. The only person you have to blame for any of this is yourself. Look in the mirror sometime.”

Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

Elizabeth sighed and swirled the spoon in the air again, hoping this time Jake would take it. “Come on, baby. Mommy hasn’t slept.” Might never sleep again, she thought. They’d left the hospital last night, gone out on the bike for a ride to see if the roar of the wind would help—

Nothing did.

They’d returned home to find Audrey sleeping in the last guest bedroom and Spinelli standing guard over the baby monitor. Jason had packed him off to bed, and they’d laid awake in their bedroom. Closing their eyes meant going to sleep—and Elizabeth wasn’t ready to dream.

Jake’s lips remained firmly pressed shut, his face set in a determined expression. “Come on, it’s peaches,” Elizabeth said.

“He looks quite like his mother,” Audrey said. Elizabeth turned. “Good morning, darling.” She kissed the top of Elizabeth’s head. “You still make that face, you know.”

“He needs to eat.”

Audrey tickled the soft skin beneath Jake’s chin, and the baby laughed, his mouth parting. Elizabeth swooped in, and the peaches disappeared. Jake furrowed his brows, looked at her, then opened his mouth again. She exhaled in a rush. “Thanks, Gram. I forgot that trick.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Did you make any coffee?”

“No. Not yet.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Audrey went to the cabinets. “Did you or Jason get any sleep last night?”

“No. We tried, but—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I don’t know how to do any of this, Gram. I don’t know to help myself. And Jason—you know, he doesn’t show it, but he feels so deeply—”

With the coffee starting to percolate, Audrey sat next to Elizabeth at the small table. “It’s so hard to lose anyone, but when the person you rely on to hold you up can scarcely take care of themselves, it’s even more difficult. But it’s important that you both let yourselves feel this. Take turns leaning on each other.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand, then stopped, turning it slightly. “Well, this is new.”

Elizabeth stared down at her finger, at the diamond. “It was a lifetime ago,” she murmured. “He asked me last night.”

“Congratulations.”

Elizabeth sighed, finished off the jar of peaches. “Thank you. For staying last night. Spinelli’s great, but I felt better knowing you were down the hall.” She lifted Jake from his high chair, pressing her cheek to his soft, downy hair.

“Of course. I’ll stay a few days if you don’t mind. Not just for you, darling.” Audrey rose, pulled Elizabeth into her arms. “But for myself. I need to know my family is safe. That you’re all right. And if you and Jason have somewhere to go, or if you need some air to breathe, you know you won’t have to worry about the boys.” She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Now let me go pour you a cup of coffee—and one for Jason?”

Elizabeth adjusted Jake to sit on her hip. “Yeah, he’s upstairs, giving Cameron a bath.”

“Have you thought of what you’ll say to him yet?”

“No. God, no. I don’t even want to think about it yet—”

Jason stepped in the doorway, and Elizabeth turned. “Oh, you’re done already?”

“Yeah. Ned just called,” he said, and Elizabeth sighed. “He wants to know if we’ll come over later.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Gram?”

“I’ll look after the boys.” Audrey went to Jason, touched his arm. “I hope it goes without saying how sorry I am, my dear. Emily was a lovely young woman, and it was a privilege to watch her grow up. I know how much you loved her.”

Jason swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Thank you. It means a lot coming from you, Mrs. Hardy. I appreciate you coming over last night. Spinelli—we felt bad leaving him, but—”

“He understood, but I’m glad I could be here for you. What a terrible tragedy.” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “I made coffee. It looks like both of you need it.”

Patrick’s Condo: Bedroom

Robin pursed her lips when Patrick brought her a cup of herbal tea. “Where did this come from?”

“All night convenience store.” Patrick kicked off his shoes, climbed into bed to stretch out next to her. “I was reading last night. Caffeine isn’t good for you, so coffee was out—”

“Reading?” Bewildered, Robin looked at him. “You were reading about pregnancy?”

“Couldn’t sleep, and the internet is always there.” Patrick frowned at her. “Why? Was I wrong?”

“No. No, I mean some caffeine is all right. But you read and then you went shopping.”

“I told you. I’m in this. I don’t know how to stop being scared of being a father,” Patrick admitted, “but I used to be afraid of being a doctor. I went to school and got hands on experience, and now I’m the best neurosurgeon in the country. So you study. And you intern.”

Robin sipped the tea, intrigued. “So you’re going to approach parenting like medical school.”

“Yes. I’ll get all the books, you can quiz me. And then we’ll borrow Elizabeth’s kids. We can’t really replicate a newborn situation, but I figure multi-tasking a toddler and an infant might give us a sense of the chaos—” Patrick stopped, looked at her. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I am…” Robin considered her next words. “Fascinated by this side of you.”

“Do you have a better way of preparing to be a parent? Because I’d like to hear it.”

She set the tea cup on the night stand, then lifted his arm to wrap around her shoulders. “Thank you. For making sure my first thought this morning wasn’t Emily and Leyla.”

Patrick sighed, looked at the ceiling. “I don’t know to make that okay. You can’t, probably. It’s impossible. But after losing my mom, then with Georgie, now Emily—life is short. Unbearably, unfairly short. You can’t do anything but hold on to the good. You’re what’s good.”

She closed her eyes, tucked her head beneath her chin, just where she belonged. “And the baby?”

“The baby is part of you, so we already know they’ll be smart and compassionate. Which is good because I’m only one of those things. And it’s part of me, so devastating charm and good looks.” He kissed the top of her head, lingering for a moment. “I’m still terrified I’ll screw it up, but I think I want it more than I ever thought I would. We’re going to be okay.”

“Yeah. We’re going to be okay.” Just as long as they held on to each other.

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

Jason stepped inside, his fingers laced in Elizabeth’s, and swept his eyes around the empty foyer. The memories of this room — of this house — there were so many bitter, terrible ones. But there were good ones.

Emily was everywhere in this house. So was his grandmother.

Elizabeth squeezed his shoulder. “Hey,” she murmured. “I think they’re in the family room by the terrace.”

“Yeah, we—” Jason looked up as Ned stepped out of that hallway. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Ned embraced Elizabeth, kissed her cheek. “Thank you for coming. Uh, I know it’s not your favorite place—” He scratched the corner of his brow with a thumb. “But Monica—she’s not handling it well. Not that anyone should have to—and Grandfather—” He cleared his throat. “I just think they could use a fresh face.”

He led them towards the family room, and Jason stopped just inside the door. Monica, his mother sat by the terrace doors, at the desk tucked into the corner. Her eyes were swollen, rimmed with red, and she barely glanced up at their entrance.

Dillon was on the sofa next to Edward; the old man gripping a cup of coffee so tightly his knuckles were white.  The younger man looked up. “Oh, hey. Grandfather, Jason came ove.r”

“Jason—” Edward turned, set down the coffee. He rose to his feet, a bit of light coming into his old blue eyes. “Jason, and you brought Elizabeth. Hello, my dear.” He came forward, kissed Elizabeth’s cheek.

“Hello.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand as he stepped back.

“Jason. It’s good—” Edward took a deep breath. “It’s good to see you,” he forced out. “How are the boys? They’re not with you?”

“We left them at home this time,” Jason said, looking over at Monica who was still staring unseen at the desktop. “But I thought we could bring them another day.”

“That would be great. Great.” Edward didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. “Uh, Cook put together some breakfast. And we have coffee—”

“Mr. Quartermaine,” Elizabeth said, leaving Jason’s side, taking Edward’s hand. “Let’s go sit down. I’ll tell you about Jake. He’s six months old now, and everyone says he looks just like Jason at that age.”

“Oh? We have photos.” Edward followed her to the sofa. “We’ll have to get them out.”

Jason went over to his mother, crouched down in front of her. “Hey,” he said softly. She looked at him finally, focusing. “What can I do?”

“There’s nothing—” Monica closed her eyes. “Nothing. Three children. I’ll have buried three children. Dawn. Emily. AJ.”

And though she wouldn’t say it, he knew she was thinking of who he’d been once. Jason Quartermaine. Though there was no tombstone to mark his death, just the family photographs of a life Jason didn’t know.

What would it be like to bury both your biological children, and only have the adopted son who barely acknowledged her left? What it would feel like if he lost Cameron and Jake tomorrow?

“I’m still here,” Jason told her, and she smiled faintly. “It’s not much. But I’m here.” He slid his hand into his back pocket. Found a photograph of the boys from a few weeks ago, at Sonny’s house. “And they—they’re still here. Your grandchildren.”

Monica took the photo, traced Jake’s face. “Children?” she asked faintly.

“Yes. I’m adopting Cameron. Just like you adopted me and Emily,” he told her. “I know it won’t ever be the same. Or enough. But I’m still here.” His chest hurt. “Mom.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and Monica touched his cheek. “You’re still here,” she murmured. “Are you?”

“I promise.”

“All right. All right.” She held the photo to her heart. “Can I keep it?”

“Yes. And we’ll bring them both to you as soon as we can.” Jason swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I can’t go back. I can’t go back and be a better son—”

“You were the best of sons. And Emily—”

“The best of sisters,” Jason said. He rose to his feet, and Monica let him pull her up, too. He hugged her.

Across Town

In a much smaller house, in a rundown neighborhood, a man sat in front of his television screen, sinking into a beatdown recliner, waiting for the news report that would fill his soul with the rush of satisfaction. Would it feel as good as it had the first time? Would it feel better?

“The PCPD is now prepared to officially release the identies of both victims,” the reporter said. “As speculated, Emily Quartermaine, an intern with the hospital, and daughter of former Chief of Staff Alan Quartermaine, was one of the victims. The second was Leyla Mir—”

He sat up, his eyes widening. What? What? That wasn’t right. That wasn’t the name—

“—a nurse with the hospital. Both women were found strangled in the parking garage—”

“A nurse?” He lunged from his chair. “A nurse! No! No! That’s not right!” He shook his television screen. “It’s not right! She was a doctor! It’s a supposed to be—”

He whirled away from the television, blind with fury. It was supposed to be two. Pairs. Double. Two college girls. Two doctors. Not one doctor and one nurse! That wouldn’t be right! That wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

He grabbed an empty beer bottle, threw it against the wall. Then overturned a table filled with newspapers, junk mail, and assorted magazines, his chest heaving. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

He had to fix it. He had to bring everything back into order. There was no other choice.

Written in 61 minutes.

---

General Hospital: Lobby

By the time physician appointments ended at seven and visiting hours at eight, the lobby of General Hospital was so quiet that every whisper and even the lightest of footsteps on the linoleum could be heard.

Tonight was no different, though the security guard at the front desk was joined by a handful of uniforms. Elizabeth used her security badge to get them through the front door.

At the desk, one of the cops turned and Jason recognized him—he’d worked with Lucky before. He focused on Elizabeth as they approached.

“Hey, Liz. Mac said you guys were coming by.”

“Cruz.” Elizabeth touched Jason’s shoulder. “Jason, this is Detective Rodriguez. Um, so you know why we’re here.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Uh, let’s head on down.” He signaled towards the elevators, and Jason followed him, his hand in Elizabeth’s. Once in the car, Rodriguez pressed a button for one of the basements, and it began to move.

The doors opened onto a long hallway, with doors every few dozen feet. Rodriguez led them into the first one which had a small room with a large picture window and door to a larger room with a wall of small, rectangular doors arranged in rows and columns.

“You don’t have to go in,” Jason said roughly. “They just need—”

“We’ll do this together,” she told him. Her lips trembled but her eyes were firm. “We’re ready,” she told the cop. He nodded, and knocked on the door to the doctor waiting.

Jason forced himself to keep walking, to keep moving forward. To walk into the room where he would identify his sister’s body.

Wyndemere: Study

Nikolas had stopped crying, but remained on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. His eyes were swollen, the light from the fire burning nearby cast shadows onto his face.

Lulu sat next to him, stroking his hair, her head on his shoulder. Lucky still across the room, unsure how to offer his sympathy. How to process his own grief. He’d forced it down at the garage, had kept it at bay until he’d come into this room.

But just the memory, the quick flash of Emily in this room, smiling at him, had stolen his breath, and brought it all back, like a rush of wind passing through a tunnel, and how did you hold it back when it was roaring past you like a freight train.

“How?” Nikolas finally managed, his voice hoarse and raw. “What happened?”

“We don’t—” Lucky took a moment. “We think it was strangulation,” he admitted, and Nikolas flinched. “Like Georgie Jones and her roommate.”

“The same guy,” Lulu murmured. “A serial killer, isn’t he?”

Lucky hesitated. “That’s not for me to say, Lu.” He knelt down. “But yes. It fits the definition. Three or more people over a period of a month.”

“Six weeks apart.” Lulu looked at him. “Do you know anything you can tell us yet?”

“No. I’m sorry. I wish—”

“You know more.” Nikolas looked at him now, his eyes burning. “You knew there was someone out there murdering women. But you didn’t stop him.”

“No. We didn’t stop him.”

“She should have been here,” his brother muttered. He fisted his hands. “She would have been here—”

“She was working, Nikolas,” Lulu reminded him gently. “She wouldn’t—”

“Then I would have been there,” Nikolas said. And now something else crept into his gaze. Loathing. “It’s your fault I wasn’t. You did this. You made her choose sides, and she chose wrong. Now she’s dead.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Spinelli opened the door to Elizabeth’s grandmother, still frowning at her arrival. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Hardy. Stone Cold and Fair Elizabeth did not say when they’d be back.”

“It’s all right, darling.” Audrey came in, touched Spinelli’s hand. “I’ll wait however long it takes. I woke to get a glass of water—” She set her purse on the desk, her hand trembling. “And I’d left the television on — oh, it’s so terrible.”

“Yes.” He closed the door behind her. “A terrible tragedy for all.” Spinelli leaned his head against the door. “Stone Cold said it was the same as Georgie. At least they thought so.”

“Georgie was such a lovely girl,” Audrey murmured. She folded her arms, hugging her torso. “Such a light. And Emily—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Leyla. She was one of the last students I admitted into the program before I retired. She was so smart, so passionate.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hardy.” Spinelli looked at her. “The Jackal did not realize you knew the other…the other woman.”

“Not well. But I feel for her family. She’ll be lost in this, you understand. Just as Georgie’s poor roommate. Lord, I’ve already forgotten her name—”

“Chelsea. Chelsea Rae.” Spinelli’s smile was wistful. “She was quiet, but tenacious. Loyal. She and Georgie were very close. She wasn’t from Port Charles. She wasn’t the Commissioner’s daughter.”

“And Leyla isn’t a Quartermaine, so she won’t get the press. But I will certainly remember her. I’m so sorry, Spinelli, for your loss.”

“I’m sorry for yours.” Tears stung his eyes. “It seems very unfair for someone to get away with this. Public paths, public parking garages. What kind of demon inflicts this kind of harm?”

“We can only hope that they find him before he hurts someone else.”

Patrick’s Condo: Living Room

Patrick sat in the dark, the light from his television flickering over his face. Robin laid stretched out on the sofa, her eyes closed, red and swollen from crying. The murders were on the news, and it was—

It was surreal to see WKPC reporting live from the hospital, to be standing in front of the place where Patrick spent the majority of his waking hours, discussing the deaths of two unidentified women, though Emily had been speculated about as being connected to the Quartermaines. Irresponsible, Patrick thought bitterly. What other young woman connected to the family was at the hospital?

He thought about Monica Quartermaine being told that her daughter was dead, in a year when she’d already lost her husband. And Leyla’s family getting the call in London—

Two more families mourning daughters who had done nothing but take a walk after dark. How did you let your kids walk around in the world without you?

He’d be finding that out now. In a year, he’d have a kid. Boy or girl. And they’d need to grow up to go to school and work and breathe and how did you do that? How did you bring a life into the world when you knew it would be hard and terrible? He hadn’t wanted that responsibility. Had been terrified of it.

Now it was here. And there wasn’t a thought of letting Robin walk this path alone. He’d loved her enough to let her go when her dream hadn’t been his, and now he was going to love her enough to be part of that dream. He didn’t know how to be a good dad, but he’d learned how to be a good friend and a good boyfriend, hadn’t he? These weren’t skills he’d been born with.

He looked at Robin, who had shifted in her sleep, curling into a fetal position. He loved her enough to try to be what she needed. And maybe she’d be open to making their child live in a bubble. It was worth a shot.

General Hospital: Morgue

The room was a few degrees colder than the hallway. Kept this cool, Elizabeth thought dully, to preserve the bodies until they were transferred to a funeral home for burial or cremation.

She’d only been here once before when Manny Ruiz had dragged her down here and made her hide in a body bag, to smuggle them both out of the hospital without triggering security.

She walked beside Jason as they followed the forensic pathologist to the wall of doors. The man stopped at one and put his hand on the handle. Oh, God. Oh, God. She was in there. She curled her hands into fists so tightly, her nails dug into her palms.

There was a squeak as the doctor pulled the handle out, and it opened —

There she was. Laid out, her skin already taking on the chalk gray of death, blue tinge around her lips. Emily lay there, naked except for the sheet covering her up to the chest. Her shoulders were bare. Her hair pulled back—

Her neck with a long thin, dark line that told the story of her death.

Jason’s voice was low, nearly inaudible. “That’s…that’s her.” He cleared his throat. “Do I need to say her name—”

“No,” Rodriguez said, quietly. Respectfully. He stepped around them so that he was next to the doctor. “That’s all we needed.”

Elizabeth laid a hand on Emily’s chest, the fingers trembling as she absorbed the lack of the heartbeat. The cold of the freezer. The way her skin had lost its softness. She forced herself to look at Emily’s face. At the eyes that were closed — they’d never sparkle with laughter, ignite with fury—she’d never smile again. Her lips would never pinch with disappointment.

This was Emily’s body. The shell of who’d she been in this world, but all the pieces that had made Emily were gone.

“I love you,” Elizabeth said softly. “I will always love you. I will make sure my boys remember their Aunt Emily.” Tears blurred her vision and she had to step back, to turn away.

Beside her, Jason exhaled on a shaky breath.  He leaned down, kissed his sister’s forehead, the way he’d done so many times in life. Then rested his forehead against hers just once more. His baby sister who had clumsily wormed her way back into his life after the accident, becoming one of the bright spots.

He stepped back, looked at the doctor and cop with eyes that didn’t see them. “That’s it. Right? We’re done.”

“We’re done,” Rodriguez said, nodding to the doctor. The drawer closed, and Emily was gone. Out of sight. “Thank you.”

Jason nodded, then turned and left the morgue without another word. Elizabeth, startled by his abrupt exit, didn’t follow for a few moments, but then hurried to catch up before he got on the elevator.

“It never gets easy,” the doctor murmured. “You know, you see him on the news and you forget—”

“He’s a human like the rest of us.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“I came as soon as I got your message.” Robert embraced his brother. “Talk to me. What do you need?”

“I—” Mac sat at the desk, put his head in his hands. “I don’t know how to do this, Robert. I keep just…looking at the next item on the list, but now there’s nothing left. Not tonight. Notifications are done, uniforms are canvassing, medical examiner is coming in the morning to do the autopsy—” He looked at him. “It could have Robin. It was supposed to be her.”

Robert frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She was supposed to leave with Emily tonight at the garage.” Mac rubbed his chin. “She changed her mind at the last minute. Sent Leyla Mir instead. It was my stepdaughter, then my niece.”

“Mac—”

“I’m not saying I think that’s the connection, just that—” he grimaced. “We can’t ignore it.”

“No.”

“I, uh—” Mac cleared his throat. “I called you because—I talked to Floyd. We both agreed that something—I can’t be in charge of the investigation. And after tonight—I didn’t tell Spencer yet, but he’s too close to Emily Quartermaine. He can still work it, but—”

“You need someone who isn’t as tightly connected,” Robert said. “Are you asking me?”

“Special assignment.” Mac smiled grimly. “Yeah, I’m asking you to take charge. Because there’s a serial killer out there, and I don’t think he’s done yet.”

General Hospital: Roof

Jason didn’t send the elevator up two flights to the lobby — but instead for the top floor. He needed air, and he didn’t want to see one more damn cop tonight—

Elizabeth said nothing as he stalked out onto the top story of General Hospital, making his way towards the roof access. She used her security badge to clear it and they both climbed the short access steps.

Once outside, hundreds of feet above the street, with the wind rushing in from the lake — Jason had nowhere else to go.

Nothing else to do. He’d identified his sister. Her broken, empty body. Nothing else he could do for her.

There was a trash can by the metal steps that led up to the helicopter pad level. Jason gripped it in both hands, threw it against the steps, the metal clanging almost satisfactory to his ears. He wanted to hurt something, to destroy it —

He’d felt this rage before, years ago, after the accident, when he’d destroyed Jason Quartermaine’s room and his mother had cried and yelled at him to stop. But there was no room to destroy here. No one to check his anger.

Only Elizabeth, standing by the door with her sad eyes. He looked at her. “I can’t do this. I can’t—I can’t do this. I don’t—” He stopped, shook his head, swallowing the ripple that rose in his throat. “She was just—” He threw the trash can again, and wished there was someone for him to hit.

Abruptly, he dropped down, to sit on the hard concrete roof. His legs slightly bent, he rested his elbows against his thighs. “I can’t do it.”

There was a small, quiet scuffle as Elizabeth sat cross-legged next to him, but she still said nothing. Because what could you say? What was Jason even refusing to do? To grieve? To accept it? The world didn’t care. It would keep turning. Emily would still be dead.

Dead. He was sitting on top of the building where his sister’s dead body was being kept, in the building where she’d been brutally murdered.

He looked at Elizabeth, said nothing. Tears slid down her cheeks, but she made no sound. Didn’t try to touch him. To soothe him. To offer comfort. He wouldn’t have accepted it. He didn’t deserve it.

“I remember the first time I met Emily,” Elizabeth said, and he frowned at that. “At school,” she continued. “I stuck up for her when some other girls were being rude.” Her smile was wistful. “Emily told me once she always knew I’d done it because I wanted to impress Lucky. But that it had given her the courage to stay that day. To keep going to school. It was after she’d come back from rehab,” she added. She took a deep breath. “I loved her so much. Even when she drove me crazy. Even when I wanted to…” She paused. “I think she knew that, right? Just like she knew you loved her. Even when you argued. Even when she did things you didn’t support or understand, she knew you loved her, Jason. I don’t know if that’s going to be enough to get us through this, but she knew we loved her.” Her voice faltered, but she said it again. “She knew we loved her.”

“Yeah.” He felt the tears start to fall, sliding down his chin, dropping from his jaw. “She knew I loved her. After the accident, it was just her and Lila that I could stand. I loved her so much.” He squeezed his eyes closed. “She knew that. I made sure she did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth scooted next to him, rested her head on his shoulder. “She knew.”