June 18, 2026

This entry is part 5 of 5 in the Flash Fiction: The Archer

Written in 61 minutes.


Saturday, October 14, 2000

Elm Street Pier

It would have been easier if Elizabeth been angrier about the fight with Lucky, or maybe he should have kept his mouth shut when she looked like she was going to put the blame entirely on her boyfriend.

But it wouldn’t have been the truth, and he wasn’t going to lie to her. Not even to save face or spare his dignity, such as it was.

What’s going on that you wanted to start a fight?

“I don’t know,” Jason said, and she made a face, looked down at her lap. “I mean that, I’m not just saying that to get out of trouble—”

“You’re not in trouble,” Elizabeth said, head head snapping up, her eyes on his with that flicker of irritation he usually saw used against someone else. “You don’t owe me anything. You said Lucky threw the first punch. Fine. I’ll let the two of you figure it out. It’s none of my business.”

She got to her feet and started towards the stairs, and he nearly let her. He knew why she was angry — he wasn’t an idiot.

“I don’t want to be here.”

She stopped at the base of the steps, one hand on the wooden railing, then slowly turned around. “You mean in Port Charles.”

Jason sighed, got to his feet, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jacket. “Yeah. It’s not you. Or Emily. Or—” He looked out to the water, the familiar sounds of the dock. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “I don’t really have a place here.”

He heard her footsteps coming towards him, her shoes scuffling along the planks. “What does that mean? A place with who? To do what?”

“I—” He exhaled slowly, then finally looked at her. “Those are good questions.” Jason scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know,” he repeated for third time.

“Okay.” She bit her lip, folded her arms. “Well, I could pretend to play dumb and act like I don’t know why you left last winter, but I know. Sonny and Carly. They slept together. And now they’re married.” Her voice shifted slightly, becoming a little strained. “It can’t be easy watching Sonny with Carly and Michael since…they were supposed to be your family.”

“That—” Jason stopped, dipped his head. Was that it? He repeated the words in his head, thought about the day before, being with Carly and Michael before Sonny had come in. “No. No, that’s not it. It’s—I don’t care about that. I don’t,” he insisted when she just arched a brow. “I gave up on that a long time ago. It wasn’t easy, and I’ll always miss being Michael’s father, but all I ever wanted was for him to be happy, and he is. I think—” He paused, considering how to articulate the thought, then shook his head, looked back toward Spoon Island.

“I had an idea in my head, I guess, it was supposed to be like that. That Michael was my son, and sometimes I could see Carly being part of that. But it was an idea, not one that I ever thought would happen. But it was all Carly thought about. All she talked about, and I liked it enough to hold on to it. I didn’t really have anything else,” he admitted to himself.

Elizabeth said nothing, and he looked back at her, weighing her reaction, wondering if she’d protest, reminding him that she’d been there last year. That he’d had her friendship. Carly would have, he thought. She’d have made sure he was keeping her in the narrative, giving her the position and weight in his life that she felt entitled to.

But Elizabeth remained quiet, just looking at him with that expression that made him feel uncomfortable inside, made something in his throat feel scratchy. “It doesn’t matter if it was real or ever going to happen. Because Sonny decided it wouldn’t happen. And he made sure it didn’t. He knew if he slept with Carly, I’d see she didn’t really love me. And I didn’t need him to show me that. I already knew it.”  And he hadn’t really loved her, but he couldn’t say that then. He’d wanted that dream. He’d wanted Michael, and he’d been willing to do almost anything to make that happen.

“Last year, you told me that something had happened and that you didn’t think you’d be able to do your job anymore. This is what you mean, isn’t it? It’s not what they did. It’s why,” Elizabeth said, and Jason grimaced, hating the way it sounded now that she’d put it into the world.

“Sonny felt guilty then and now, in his eyes, it’s worse. He doesn’t think Carly really loves him, so he sees me as a threat to the family he’s decided he wants.” His fists curled a little more tightly in his pockets. “But he knows I’d never do anything to take that family. Not like he did. So instead of dealing with it, he’s going to make it my problem. So, no, I don’t really have a place here. Because it’s like I said last year, nothing’s changing if I stay. And nothing did.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s fair to say nothing changed,” Elizabeth said, and he made another face. “Because Carly’s decided she wants Sonny, too. I know that because she usually gets territorial and bitchy whenever she thinks Sonny is doing something nice for me. The only person who doesn’t seem to believe that is Sonny. I don’t think you leaving is going to fix that.” She tipped her head. “Maybe you needed a break from all of this, I wouldn’t blame you. But the only thing that’s going to fix this now is exposure. Sonny will just have to accept you forgave him for last year, that Carly’s decided his bank account is more attractive, and once he stops being an idiot, you guys will be okay.” She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, I guess. Unless you didn’t forgive him. Which then we’ve got another problem.” Elizabeth looked at him expectantly. “Did you forgive him? Or did you just stop being mad about it?”

“There’s a difference?” Jason asked skeptically.

“Well, sort of. I mean, in my head, yeah. Like, okay—” She raised her hands up, palms out. “When I forgive someone for something awful, it’s me saying you did this awful thing, I understand why you did this awful thing, and I am choosing to let go of my anger or my pain or whatever. But not being mad about it anymore is different. It’s — you did this shitty thing to me, I don’t know why you did or I don’t care why, but I’m done being mad about it. See? Different.”

“That…” Jason scratched the side of his eyebrow. “That actually makes sense.”

“See, maybe that’s why Sonny’s so weird. Because he did something that I think is pretty unforgivable. Not just sleeping with…your…” Elizabeth made a gesture with her hand. “Whatever. But he did it to make a point to you. It’d be one thing if they’d fallen in love and he couldn’t help himself—that came later, I guess. I think that’s easier to forgive. Eventually. But Sonny doesn’t think he can be forgiven, so he probably doesn’t believe you’re not mad anymore. If you’re not.”

“I’m not,” Jason assured her.

“Okay. So tell him you don’t forgive him. I bet that’ll actually cheer him up.”

Doubtful, but worth a try. “I shouldn’t have baited Lucky into punching me,” he told, eager to be done with the conversation about Sonny and Carly forever. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

“Oh, he was already mad at me, so—” Elizabeth shrugged. “You being around isn’t helping. He heard all those rumors from last year, and I told him the truth. But sometimes I think he doesn’t believe me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, following her back to the bench.

“Don’t be. I made my choices, and I have zero regrets. I mean that,” she said when he’d sat down and their eyes met. “There’s nothing I’d take back about last year. Other than getting a new door with a better lock.”

“With no window,” he added, and she grinned. “Emily mentioned something about a job. That’s why Lucky’s mad?”

“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose, her lips pouting out slightly. “Do we have to talk about that?”

“No. We don’t.”

She said nothing for long enough he actually thought she might drop the subject, but then she looked at him. “What did Emily  say?”

“That Chloe offered you a job, temporary. That’d you  have to travel. She said it was a good opportunity for you. And worried that she’d sent you a mixed message about taking it.” Jason lifted his brows. “Are you turning it down?”

“I…don’t know. Everyone seems to have a strong opinion about it. Lucky hates the idea,” Elizabeth said. “Penny and Gram think I should. And Emily seemed to agree with Lucky, though—that’s maybe not how she feels now?” she asked looking at him.

“I don’t want to put words in her mouth, but I know she said it would be good for you. Would it?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t want to be a waitress my whole life, and sometimes I’m scared I’ll wake up ten years from now and I’ll be running the place. I don’t think I’m talented enough to make art my career. Or that I have the confidence to do that. But this…” Elizabeth looked down at her hands. “I used to like fashion, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Most people don’t know it. It’s from Before. Before Valentine’s Day.” He tensed, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “Before, I had all the magazines — I remember being so obsessed with living in the same town as Brenda Barrett. Brenda Barrett, the Face of Deception, this gorgeous supermodel.” Elizabeth smiled, at the memory. “I could barely speak when Lucky introduced us the day of the wedding. And I stole Ruby’s invitation to get into the ceremony. I knew I’d never be a model, but I wanted all the clothes, and I’d make little mood boards, picking out all the best pieces from Fashion Week.”

Elizabeth rubbed her wrist. “I didn’t have the money to dress the way I wanted to, but I was always trying to be into the trends. The right brands, the right products—I was obsessed.” She bit her lip, looked at him. “You probably think that’s stupid.”

“Why would I think that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I—I haven’t done any of that,” she confessed. “Not since…I could barely get out of bed, and the only clothes I wanted to wear were the ones that would cover every inch of skin.” She looked at her arms. “At first, to cover the bruises. There were everywhere,” she murmured. “It hurt to move, to breathe. But then I just didn’t want anyone to look at me. To think of me as anything.”

He swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to say, how to  comfort her. How to make any of it go away.

“It took months before I would wear anything but flannels and sweaters, and I only really felt comfortable doing it when Lucky was around. I always felt safe with him,” she murmured, sliding her fingers along the sleeve of her shirt. “But then he was gone, and I had to figure out how to feel safe with myself. That night, at Jake’s—” She looked at him. “That was my first time doing anything reckless since that night. And of course, I got myself right back into trouble—”

“You didn’t do anything to get yourself in trouble the first time,” Jason bit out, and she looked at startled. He took a breath. “I’m sorry. Look, yeah, going to Jake’s, underage, that was reckless, and stupid,” he added, and she made a face. “But if you’d been of age, you had every right to be there, to have a drink, and a conversation. No man has a right to your attention. Even for buying you a drink.”

“I know that. Mostly. It’s just—it’s easier to blame myself,” Elizabeth admitted. “Than to face how much of life isn’t in your control. I couldn’t stop him from grabbing me, from doing that in a public place. I can’t believe I argued with you for helping me—” She shook her head. “Anyway. I never meant to go down that road. I just—when Chloe offered me the job, all I could think — I can have this back. This piece of me I hadn’t even thought of before she came in. This piece I’d forgotten was lost.”

She lifted her face to the sky. “I think if I told Lucky about it that way, he’d probably understand. He’d be on my side. I think so. But he’s not wrong. We’ve been through so much, and we lost each other for so long. Not just the year he was gone — but since he’s been back. It’s…” She bit her lip. “I feel guilty,” she admitted. “Because I got a miracle. I prayed and begged the universe to bring him back to me. And they did. But…” She looked at Jason. “But it’s not the same. I don’t think I love him the way I’m supposed to. And I don’t think he loves me.”

June 16, 2026

This entry is part 4 of 5 in the Flash Fiction: The Archer

Written in 70 minutes. The first scene took a ton of time, so the ending scene isn’t quite where I wanted to pause the conversation, but it’ll do.


Saturday, October 14, 2000

Hardy House: Living Room

“Gram?”

Elizabeth closed the door behind her, then went over to the desk at the base of the stairs where her grandmother had kept important documents Elizabeth had needed over the last few years. She flipped through some report cards, medical reports, the guardianship papers—

“Hello, darling. This is a surprise.”

Elizabeth turned, her folder still in her hand and smiled at her grandmother, accepting the kiss on the cheek and the one-armed hug. “Sorry to just drop in like this. I probably should have called.”

“Oh, you never have to call.” Audrey waved a hand. “You have a key, and it looks like you’re looking for something.” She nodded at the manila folder in Elizabeth’s hand. “What can I help you with?”

“Oh, I’m just—” Elizabeth grimaced. “I’m looking for my birth certificate. I’ve never needed a copy before, but I figured it’d be with all this stuff, right?”

Audrey pursed her lips. “Well, I must have had a copy at some point since you used it for driver’s license, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. You handed me a bunch of stuff, and I didn’t really look at it.” Elizabeth set the folder on the desk and looked at the papers inside more carefully. “They didn’t send it to you when I registered for school?”

Audrey slid on her reading glasses, and began looking in the folder as well. “Well, you remember, darling, you weren’t exactly supposed to be here with us, don’t you? Not that I’m sorry you came. You know that, but we didn’t have all the paperwork settled for a few weeks. Getting the guardianship in my name—I didn’t actually talk to the school. Your father handled it.”

“Dad? How?” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Weren’t they in Bosnia or whatever by then?”

“Oh, well—” Audrey hesitated. “I don’t remember the timeline, so give me a second. What do you need it for? Do you need to renew your license?”

“Not yet, but that’s probably another good reason to have it. I…might need my passport.” Elizabeth set down the paperwork. “Or might not. I don’t know. I haven’t decided. I don’t understand, Gram. How could you not have my birth certificate?”

“Well, I don’t have a lot of reasons to use it.” Audrey rifled through another drawer, and pulled out a slim notebook that Elizabeth recognized as one that would fit into the leather porfolio her grandmother used for her date book. “Ah, yes, Jeff and Carolyn came back the first week of September. Just long enough to talk to a real estate agent, and put the house on the market. It was handy since he was able to fax the school what we needed, and they signed the guardianship papers. Oh, the school must have it — didn’t you get your license through that program?”

“That’s right.” Elizabeth made a face. “I failed the road test twice, and nearly flunked Driver’s Ed because of that. I forgot about it. They must have used the birth certificate Dad sent them.” She scowled. “And how come they didn’t tell me they were coming back to the states? Why didn’t they come to see us?”

“I think they went to see Steven,” Audrey said carefully, and Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry, dear. They’re wonderful doctors, but they’ve never been particularly present as parents, have they?”

“No. Not to me anyway. Still surprised they didn’t come to see perfect Princess Sarah.” Elizabeth closed the file. “This is so annoying. Why wouldn’t Dad just send you the copies so you could have it? I mean, you finished raising me.”

“I don’t know. He was quite insistent on handling the paperwork in person.” Audrey closed the datebook.  “It’s not a problem, dear. You can just call the offices in Colorado and send for a new copy.” Audrey tipped her head. “That ought to give you time to decide whether or not you need a passport.”

“Chloe Morgan offered me a temporary job as her assistant,” Elizabeth told her. “I’d have to travel for it—but I might not take it,” she added hastily when Audrey’s expression lit up. “I’ve got obligations here, Gram—”

“Nothing that can’t be handled. You know Bobbie would hold your position at Kelly’s. You’re like family—” Audrey paused. “Is that the obligation? Lucky?”

Elizabeth sighed and wandered over to the sofa, flopping down and pulling a pillow towards her middle. “He pointed out that we just got back together, and we’ve had a really awful year. They just figured out what Helena did to him, and now I’m just leaving? It’s selfish, Gram.”

“Selfish? Darling. You’re still young. You have every right to go and out see the world. To explore it.”

“But you gave up all that for Gramps, didn’t you?” Elizabeth asked, and her grandmother sighed, sat in the armchair. “Do you ever regret that?”

“No. But I was older than you dear. I’d already gone out seen the world before I came to Port Charles and met Steve. And we didn’t make it,” Audrey pointed gently. “We divorced and I left for Vietnam.”

“You lost all that time with Gramps. Don’t you regret it? Don’t you wish you would have stayed and figured it out?” Elizabeth pushed.

“It’s a very tricky business, dear, to think about your life in those terms. Yes, I will aways regret that your grandfatherand I didn’t have more time together. That we didn’t have children to raise together, though he did a marvelous job with your uncle Tommy, and of course, we had your father for a while. And we enjoyed our grandchildren. Yes, sometimes I do wish I’d made other choices. But then I remember that Tommy doesn’t exist if I don’t leave. My marriage to his father was unhappy. Terribly so. And my marriage after that even more so. But I am who I am because of those choices, Elizabeth. And I was stronger, I think, because I had done so much on my own. I’d gone out in the world and been responsible for myself.”

Elizabeth picked at the cuticle of her thumbnail. “You think it’s a mistake to stay here because of Lucky.”

“If you’d like my honest opinion, Elizabeth, yes. I think it’s a mistake. I worried when you and Lucky planned to go to New York, but at least you were going somewhere and doing something with your life. You were planning on art school. You got accepted, and you turned it down. Which I understood. You were hurt after the fire, and you needed to be with us, your family. But sometimes—” Audrey paused, considering her words. “Sometimes I think I ought to have pushed you out of the nest. Encouraged you to go to school anyway. To start over. Because you’ve spent the majority of this year stuck in place, don’t you think? Working at Kelly’s, or L&B, these positions that don’t have a future or allow for you to build a life for yourself. You don’t spend a great deal of time painting. And you spent months being hurt over and over again by that boy. I do not care if they call it brainwashing. I do not care if he had an excuse. That does not change the damage he did to you.”

Elizabeth lifted her gaze to her grandmother, surprised to see Audrey’s eyes shimmering with tears. “Gram.”

“You came to me as a brash, reckless, impulsive girl, and then the world tried to break you into pieces. It did shatter you. And a weaker girl might have just stayed in those pieces, but you put yourself back together, bit by bit. And you gained back that fire that I so adored about you. You were blossoming, Elizabeth. And even that fire didn’t hold you back for long. I may not have approved of the choices you made,” Audrey added, and Elizabeth smiled faintly, understanding the reference to Jason. “But you made them for you. And now you’re telling me you’ve got this opportunity, and the only reason you’ll turn it down is because someone else convinced you it’d be selfish to take it.”  She lifted her brows. “Tell me the truth. When Chloe offered you the job, you instinctively said yes, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted. “But…Lucky pointed out how much time we wouldn’t spend together—” She tipped her head back, looked at the ceiling. “And he’s right. I’d barely be here, and he just went through this whole terrible thing—”

“He has a mother, a father, a sister, an aunt, a brother, and friends who care about him. He is not alone in this world, Elizabeth.”

Startled by her grandmother’s irritated tone, Elizabeth looked at her curiously. “You don’t like Lucky very much, do you?”

“I will always be grateful for the friendship and support he gave you after your attack. But, no, I don’t like him very much at all. I find him to be disrespectful, particularly to his mother who has had trauma of her own. I find him smug and arrogant. And that was before the fire.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked, absorbing this information. “You never said that before.”

“I was supporting you, and for all his faults, he generally treated you relatively well.” Audrey clasped her hands in her lap. “And, of course, when he came home, I was relieved because he was, I thought, a better choice than Jason Morgan.”

“Who also treated me relatively well,” Elizabeth said, echoing her grandmother’s words.

“And was responsible for a bomb in your studio, so perhaps we don’t try our luck, dear.” But Audrey’s lips twitched in a smile, and it made Elizabeth want to smile, too. “I will support whatever choice you make, Elizabeth, but I just…I would like you to be sure it’s a choice you’re making for you. And not because you feel obligated to take care of Lucky because he stood by you. It cost him nothing, Elizabeth, to be by your side. He didn’t give up trips or job opportunities. Ask yourself — would he sacrifice his dreams for you the same way?”

Spencer House: Living Room

“Ow—” Lucky jerked away from his mother when Laura tried to touch his chin for a better look at his eye. “Don’t, Mom. I told you, it was just something that happened outside the bar.” He avoided his brother’s knowing look and pulled out a chair at the dining table. “Can we just have dinner already?”

“Of course, but I’m allowed to ask questions when my son looks as if he’s had a fight. Think of the example you’re setting for your sister,” Laura said, gesturing at Lulu, who, at age eight, knew better than  to say anything. She just smirked at her brother, and reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes.

“Just tell her to do a better job of ducking,” Nikolas advised, passing his mother a serving dish with green beans. “And not to pick fights in the first place.”

“I didn’t pick—” Lucky made a face. “Okay, I threw the first punch. But they were an ass—a butthole,” he corrected when his mother flashed him a cold look.

“Let’s change the subject,” Laura suggested. “How is everyone doing? Emily and Elizabeth must have started classes by now—”

“Everyone is fine,” Lucky said, earning himself another look from Nikolas. “Let’s talk about something else. Lulu. How’s school?” he asked his sister, desperately.

Elm Street Pier

Elizabeth leaned back against the wooden bench, trying to pick out the stars in the sky above her through the haze of clouds rolling off the lake. The conversation with Penny that morning and with her grandmother that afternoon kept rolling around in her head. If it had just been Penny telling her to go, she’d have brushed it off. Penny was a work friend that didn’t know anything Elizabeth hadn’t decided to share.

But her grandmother? Well, that was an opinion Elizabeth did take seriously. Audrey hadn’t talked about the money or opportunities the job would bring—though both were substantial. Even a temporary paycheck from Chloe with all expense trips paid for the next six months could set Elizabeth up well enough she could pay full time when she came back, or a least spend less time waitressing.

But Audrey hadn’t talked about any of that — she’d honed right in on the problem. A job with a lot of traveling meant Elizabeth would be putting herself and her career first. And what did it say that everyone who heard about the job was immediately excited and happy for her —

Except Lucky.

She heard steps near the exit to the street, and looked toward Bannister’s Wharf as they grew closer and Jason stepped into view. He looked both ways, then saw her on the second sweep — and seemed to hesitate before coming closer.

“Uh, hey.  I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight.” His tone was the same as his steps — slow, cautious. As if she’d bite.

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked, angling her body so that she was facing him. “Are you—” The light from a pier fell on his face and she saw a cut on his upper cheek. “What happened? Did you get into a fight?”

Jason grimaced, touched his cheek. “I didn’t think—Emily didn’t say anything.”

“Well, Emily’s not always observant—” She got to her feet, came closer and could the bruise beginning to form. Then stopped. “You know, Lucky had some bruises this morning he didn’t want to talk about.” She bit her lip, folded her arms. “Did you run into each other or something?”

Jason’s hand fell to his side, and he grimaced. “Or something.”

“Well, that explains this morning.” Elizabeth sighed, sat back down, perching at the edge the bench, turned her attention to the horizon, where the lake and sky melted together. “What happened?”

“I don’t—I know what you want me to say.”

“The truth?” Elizabeth lifted her brows. “You and Lucky used to be friends. Why are you punching each other?”

Jason shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, squinted. “It wasn’t that serious. He punched me, I punched him, and that was the end of it. I left.”

“He punched you. He threw the first punch?” Elizabeth asked. “That’s—that can’t be right.”

Jason’s face tensed. “You don’t believe me?”

“What?” she blinked, looked at him with confusion. “No, I believe you, I just—” She dragged a hand through her hair. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. Lucky wouldn’t punch you. That’s not—it’s not his style. It…” She licked her lips. “It’s not who he was,” she said softly, then looked at him. “Am I crazy? It’s not right.”

Jason sat next to her, almost reluctantly. “He’s been through a lot this year, I guess.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, shook her head. “Yeah, he’s been through a lot.” She sighed, then looked at him again. “I’m sorry. That he started a fight.”

“It’s—” Jason winced. “I might have…he threw the first punch, but I might have…said something first.”

“You…what are you saying, that you baited him? You wanted him to hit you?” Elizabeth asked. Her concern about Lucky disappeared. “What’s going on that you wanted to start a fight?”

June 15, 2026

This entry is part 3 of 5 in the Flash Fiction: The Archer

Written in 58 minutes.


Saturday, October 14, 2000

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth counted her receipts, making a face at Penny Reyes, the waitress that had opened that morning and worked the breakfast rush with her. “You think it’s the lack of coffee that makes people such lousy tippers in the morning?”

“Seems like a skill issue. I did just fine,” Penny said, fisting a hand on her hip and fluttering her lashes. “I told you, Liz, you wanna make the real money, it’s not enough to just deliver the food. Especially with these dock workers. You gotta make them think they’ve got a chance with you.”

“I’m not going to prostitute myself for a few extra dollars,” Elizabeth grumbled, then sighed. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant—”

“It is, and you’re not wrong. You want to make the money, you gotta pretend to put out for the gross men, be competent and invisible for the women, and not ignore the teenagers who might toss you an extra buck if they’ve got it. And don’t forget pretending you think all babies are just so adorable and worth the vomit and sticky fingers.” Penny shuddered, then lifted a tub of dishes. “I wear many hats, girl, and pseudo-whore is just one of them.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, and Elizabeth sighed. She’d never been the best waitress, but she’d become basically competent in the last three years, but she was never going to love being in the business of pretending the customers were always right.

“You made more money when these dock guys thought you were doing the boss,” Penny reminded her, reappearing with an empty tub. She stored it under the counter and flashed her a saucy smile. “Everyone wanted to suck up to Jason Morgan’s girlfriend.”

“One of the few perks of playing the role,” Elizabeth admitted. “But those days are over.”

“Don’t sound so annoyed by that.”

She turned, frowning when Lucky appeared from the kitchen, having taken the back stairs from his room upstairs. “What?”

“Not being Jason Morgan’s girlfriend,” he bit out. He moved closer, into the dining room proper and Elizabeth’s mouth dropped at the bruise on the left side of his cheek, crawling up from his jaw, with a matching black eye.

“What happened to you?” she demanded, taking two steps towards him and halting when he put a hand up to stop her. “Lucky—”

“None of your damn business. Try not to sound so disappointed I’m not Jason.” He brushed past her, through the dining room and the few lingering diners and out the door.

“Uh, I thought you guys were back together,” Penny said, her eyes still on the entrance. “Trouble in paradise?”

“I—” Elizabeth shoved her shaking hands into her apron, took a deep breath to brace herself. “We’re—I mean, we were fine. But I got a…” she grimaced, returned to the counter and forced herself to resume wrapping utensils in napkins for the lunch rush due to begin in another hour. “I got a job offer yesterday. Chloe Morgan wants me to be her assistant while hers is on maternity list.”

Penny’s eyes grew wide. “Chloe Morgan the designer? Elizabeth Webber, why the hell didn’t you lead with that? That is amazing. I mean, I hate you because you know nothing about fashion, and you’re gonna to leave the rest of us whores behind, but that’s awesome—” She slapped Elizabeth’s shoulders playfully. “Are you gonna travel? Oh my God, do you get to do Fashion Week in Paris? Or Milan? Last year she did Tokyo—”

“I’m not taking the job.”

Penny stopped abruptly, then narrowed her eyes. “Okay, now I’m pissed for a new reason. Are you really turning down this opportunity for the manbaby who just bitched at you and stormed out? Please.”

“It’s—” She bit her lip. “It’s complicated. Lucky’s been through so much this year—”

“Yeah, being kidnapped is a bitch. Good thing he came home like six months ago. What, does he need you to hold his hand? Wipe his ass? Cut his food into little pieces and play airplane?”

“Penny.” Elizabeth’s tone had the other woman scowl at her. “Look, you and I are friendly, and I’ve always liked working with you. But you don’t actually know me. Or my problems—”

“I know you’re a dumb ass who’s passing up an amazing opportunity to get out of this greasy hellhole and actually do something with her life.” Penny slapped a hand against the counter. “Because, no, we’re not best friends. We just work together. But I’m gonna tell you the same thing I would tell a stranger on the street. You give up the world for a man, you better make sure he’s not going to leave you high and dry, with nothing to show for yourself. We’ve worked together since high school, Liz. You used to have dreams. You used to talk about art and the future and doodle stupid sketches on every available surface. But since that dumbass rolled back in your life, you’ve been all about him, and he’s just spent half his time telling you go screw his brother. Just an amazing choice, Liz. A plus. Gold star.”

Eli’s: Dining Room

Emily slid into the booth across from her brother with a breathless smile. “Thanks for waiting, I am so sorry I’m late. My class got out stupidly late—” she beamed up at the waitress and ordered a soda, then focused on Jason again. “And thanks for meeting me for lunch.”

“Surprised you didn’t want to go to Kelly’s.” Jason plucked up the menu, skimmed for any changes since he’d left in January. When it seemed mostly the same, he set it back down. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to avoid the subject of the conversation honestly,” Emily said. She bit her bottom lip. “Liz is working the lunch shift, and Lucky—” she saw her brother wince. “What? What’s that?”

“Nothing. Just—what’s wrong? If you had a fight with one of them, I don’t really think I’m the right person—”

“No, you are. Because you’re objective, and you’ll tell me if I’m being wrong. Or stupid. Or overthinking, or you’ll just say something super wise and amazing, and I’ll know exactly what to do, okay?”

“Okay. I think,” Jason added, his brows drawn together with a slight squint.

“Before the fire, Elizabeth and I were just getting to know each other, you know? Lucky was—is—my oldest friend, but we’d sort of drifted a little bit. Especially with Nikolas and Sarah, and well everything else that happened during that time,” she said, and shifted uncomfortably, dropping her eyes the scratched and scarred surface of the table. She didn’t want to remember the drugs. Didn’t want anyone else to remember it either.

“I went to Lucky for help with the blackmailing, and don’t make that face. Yes, I know that’s another time I should have just gone to you, but that’s not the point. I went to Lucky who was basically a matched pair with Liz back then. And Liz—she really came through for me. You know? Like, not in a way you’d ever expect someone who barely knew you. She put herself on the line. She does that better than anyone, you know that.”

“I do,” Jason acknowledged with a nod, and she knew he was thinking of the previous winter when Elizabeth had shredded her reputation into pieces protecting Jason after he’d been shot. “You’ve been there for her—”

“No. I haven’t. We’re getting to that part. After—after we thought Lucky was gone, Liz and I really bonded. You know? We leaned on each other, and other than that little scuffle we had over you because I was hurt she hadn’t come to me. Or that you hadn’t either, and I get why, so we’re not revisiting that. But it was a time she needed me to be there for her, and I was still mostly in my own world with the Juan of it all. God, what a waste of time he was. Don’t—” She jabbed a finger at her brother. “Don’t say a word.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I would have told anyone who listened Elizabeth was my best friend and that I would have her back the way she’s had mine. But I realized yesterday I’m a giant fraud.”

Jason frowned again, folded his arms the table and leaned forward slightly. “What?”

“Well, first, I didn’t have her back with you. And then since Lucky came home, I haven’t really been in her corner. I thought I was, because I figured the best thing for everyone is Liz and Lucky back together way they’re supposed to be. I mean, I figured the best world for everyone is one with them happy and in love the way they were. You’re making a face, so I know you don’t agree.”

“I—” Jason stopped, squinted again, clearly trying to measure his words carefully. “I think that it’s been hard to see the Lucky I used to know in who he is now. And I haven’t really…seen a lot that I…like.”

“That was incredibly diplomatic of you. And I agree. Lucky came home broken and damaged, and in my head, I thought — this is perfect. Lucky and Liz will find their way back to each other, because that’s how they fell in love. When she was broken and damaged, he healed her—Okay, now what’s that face?” Emily demanded when her brother looked liked he’d swallowed something sour. “That’s just objective fact—”

“First, Elizabeth wasn’t broken or damaged. And second, any healing she did it herself,” Jason said flatly. “I don’t like it when she gives him credit either, but I usually keep my mouth shut because it’s none of my business, but—”

“Oh. Oh.” Emily sat back, stricken. “Oh, I didn’t even hear myself when I was saying it, but you’re so right. No, you are. She was so strong when Tom Baker was holding us hostage. Not at first, at first, she, like, crawled into herself, you know, but then she was like, amazing. She saved us all. And she made so proud, and I wanted to be like her.” She reached for sugar packets from the container on the table, plucked out one out and ripped it open, dumping it into the napkin, then began to shred the pink packet into pieces.

“Em—”

“She’s the one that had to get up every day and figure it out, and keep going. Lucky helped, it’s stupid to say he didn’t. But he didn’t heal her. He didn’t do the fixing. He just helped her. And it’s stupid of me to think it’s the same thing. It’s not. Maybe it could have been,” Emily added. “Because Elizabeth had to let Lucky in to help her, and Lucky just kept shoving us all out. And told Liz over and over again that she just had to have patience, that our Lucky would come back, but she was so miserable, and she kept trying, but he hurt her every time he would seem like our Lucky, and then he’d be like, you should be with Nikolas—”

“Emily—”

“I promise, I’m almost done. We just needed the back story, because I needed to explain to you that I think every time I thought I was being Elizabeth’s friend, too, I was actually still just being Lucky’s friend. And that you can’t be best friends equally with people who are dating. Because sometimes someone is just wrong. And he’s wrong this time. Well, he’s not wrong, but he’s wrong for making it—you’re looking lost again, I’m sorry. I’m just thinking outloud—”

“It’s okay, Em. Just tell me what happened.”

“Liz got this job offer from Chloe yesterday. It’s a temporary position as her assistant, but Liz would get to travel and go see the world. Chloe’s got a collection this year and she’s going to be in London in January, and then she’s going to all the big fashion events – to Paris and Milan and Los Angeles and New York, and it would be so amazing for Elizabeth. She’d get to be part of something artistic, and she’d get to do all this amazing traveling and she loves to paint landscapes and natures, and think of all the awesome adventures she’d get to have.”

Jason exhaled slowly, then pressed his lips into a thin line. “Lucky doesn’t want her to go.”

“No. He doesn’t. He accused her of wanting to abandon him when they just finally got back together.” Emily’s throat tightened, and pressure began to build behind her eyes. “And when she told me, I…I agreed with him. I mean, I didn’t tell her not to take the job, but that Lucky was sort of right, but we should give him some time to think about it, and I’ve been so annoyed with myself ever since.”

“I’m not really sure what you need me for. It sounds like you’ve got it wrapped up—”

“Jason. I’m asking you to help me figure out how to fix this. How can I be both their friends when it’s something like this?” Before he could answer, the server returned with the orders.

“I can understand why Lucky would feel abandoned, because he’s not wrong, you know? He was brainwashed, and that just got fixed, and we just finished, you know—” She wiggled her fingers. “All of that. And it’s like, the second they get to breathe, Elizabeth wants to leave town. So I get it. But I also—” She pursed her lips. “I think about you and Robin. When she went to Yale. You guys made that work, don’t you think?”

When Jason grimaced slightly, Emily bit her lip again. “Sorry, I know you hate talking about all of that—”

“I don’t—I don’t hate it. I just don’t talk about it that much. Or want to.” Jason waited a beat. “But, okay, yeah. Yale was never an issue. I missed her. I wanted her here with me. But she came home when she could, and I knew how much this meant to her. I wanted her to have her dreams. The distance wasn’t our problem.”

“The distance isn’t the problem,” Emily repeated. “Okay, yes, that’s what I think I need to focus on. It’s not that Elizabeth wants to travel, because honestly, he’s making this worse than it has to be. Chloe isn’t even leaving the country until January, and I think it’s like, two, maybe three months. Plus, it’s temporary. Liz would be back, working at Kelly’s I guess, by May. Or something. Or not. Maybe Chloe loves her, maybe Liz finds out she loves it—that’s—I’m getting distracted.” She stopped, trying to organize her racing thoughts. “Elizabeth’s dreams used to matter to Lucky. But maybe that’s because he saw a way to be part of them. He was gonna move to New York for art school to be with her, remember? But he can’t see a way for this to include him.”

“Emily—”

“I think I need to tell her to go, right? I need to tell her to go. I need to tell her that Lucky’s being selfish. Her dreams don’t have to be his,” Emily continued. “If he loves her, he should want her to be the best possible version of herself. Like you and Robin. And Elizabeth stuck by him for all these months. Now it’s his turn. Okay, I’ve got it. Thank you. You were a big help.”

“If you say so.”

June 11, 2026

This entry is part 113 of 113 in the Flash: You're Not Sorry

Written in 58 minutes.


Monday, October 7, 2024

Port Charles Courthouse: Conference Room

It was raining again.

The brief respite the day after the accident hadn’t lasted more than twenty-four hours before the grey storm clouds swept back in, but this time it was a storm blowing off the lake that kept the streets of Port Charles under flash flood advisory.

Alexis hadn’t returned to her neighborhood since that night, and wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to go back knowing she’d have to pass by her daughter’s accident scene every time. The creek had subsided from the raging monster it had been, but it was still swollen from the downpour, threating to spill over the banks. She wouldn’t take the chance.

“I don’t understand, Mom. I thought you said that the surveillance photos they got from Dad’s weren’t proper or something. How are they going to use them?”

Alexis turned away from the window, looking at her daughter — at the only daughter that would still talk to her. Kristina had been released from the hospital the day before, the only remnants of her injury were fading bruises on her face and a stitched cut above her forehead. Her mouth was pinched, her nose crinkling as if she’d smelled something rank.

Alexis kept waiting for reality to hit Kristina, for the gravity of the situation to set in. She hadn’t been present when Kristina had learned about Sam’s death, but Sonny’s recounting suggested that Kristina hadn’t shown much emotion at all. Maybe it was denial, maybe it was that kind of grief that paralyzed —

Or maybe, Alexis decided reluctantly, watching Kristina sift through the photos and documents that had arrived in the first group of discovery, maybe Kristina just couldn’t be bothered to care about any of it.

She sat across from her daughter, laid a hand on the photo Kristina was looking at, waiting for the younger woman to look up. “It’s time that you and I had a conversation. A serious one. An honest one,” she added when Kristina opened her mouth to protest. “You did this. You took the gun from your father, and you shot John Cates. You did this, Kristina. That is not in dispute. Not with me.”

Kristina pursed her lips, then sat back, folding her arms. “Oh, really? You got it all figured out?”

“No. I don’t. I know what you did to him, and I know why. But that’s where it ends. This—” Alexis tapped the photo of Kristina in her father’s office, the metal box in her hands. “This makes sense to me. It’s this—” She flipped through until she found the still from the security video on Elm Street with Kristina standing by Elizabeth’s open trunk, the same metal box in her hands. “This is where you lose me, Kristina. And it’s what’s going to kill your defense of temporary insanity.”

“I wasn’t aware I was planning a defense of insanity,” Kristina said. “When did we decide that?”

“It’s the only defense I could have worked with. But this, and framing Elizabeth with a false tip to the police—”

“They can’t put that on me—”

“You replaced your phone right after it was called in, Kristina. A reasonable jury will believe that you called in the tip. Especially since you’re the one who put the damn gun in her trunk. This shows that you knew what you did, you knew it was wrong, and you were trying to cover your tracks. This is what puts you in jail for life, do you understand that?”

“You’re going to make it go away. Or Dad. He’ll make some phone calls—” Kristina looked towards the door. “I haven’t seen him since the hospital. Since he told me—” Her voice wavered just a little. “Since Sam.”

She wanted to hold on that to that tremor, to believe that Kristina was beginning to understand what had happened — but Alexis wasn’t stupid.

“Your sister was putting the pieces together, too, wasn’t she? She realized that you weren’t sabotaging Elizabeth’s bail just for her? You couldn’t be doing it only for that reason. If you were only trying to help Sam, you’d have immediately come forward when it became clear we all thought she sent that email. You knew what we believed, Kristina. All of us. And you let it happen. You were happy to let Sam take the fall.”

“That’s not true. We were going to tell you—” She jolted when Alexis slapped her hand on the table so hard the glass of water lifted slightly. “Mom.”

“Spinelli recorded the conversation, damn it. Sam was going to force you to come forward, she knew you’d done something more—the more you ignore reality, Kristina, the harder it’s going to be help you. You did this. You murdered that man, you framed Elizabeth, and you—” Alexis straightened, swallowed hard. “You’re the reason the car went off the road. What did you do? Did you try to go for Sam’s phone?”

Kristina looked away, pressed her lips together. “You’re acting like I wanted it to happen like this. None of this is my fault.”

“No? Then who do we blame, Kristina?” Alexis demanded. “Who is the villain?”

“Jason.” Kristina looked at her mother, angry tears glittering in the corner of her eyes. “If he’d stayed dead, none of this would have happened. Dad and Ava wouldn’t have started fighting over Avery. Sam and Danny wouldn’t be arguing. And John Cates would never have gone after Dad or me. This is Jason’s fault. Maybe my daughter would even be alive—”

Alexis sat back, staring at Kristina, her chest tight. “Sam chose to make custody a minefield with Jason. And Danny chose to drink and make a fool of himself. And you chose to take a gun from your father, and shoot a man in cold blood—”

“I didn’t—” Kristina huffed, looked away. “I didn’t plan it that way, okay? It’s not like I was going to—I just got the gun in case. And I was following him around so that I could get him alone. Make him drop the charges. I just—I just wanted to scare him, okay? But—he—” Tears slid own her cheeks. “He was blaming me for Adela’s death—”

“Irene,” Alexis said softly and Kristina stopped, her eyes wide. “My granddaughter’s name was Irene.”

“How can you say that to me—”

“I should have said it months ago. The second you attacked your sister for naming her daughter the day we buried that sweet baby. I should have—I should have done so many things, Kristina.” Alexis pushed her chair back. “I’ll make some calls. I’ll get you a lawyer. Every defendant is entitled to good representation.”

“Mom—where are you going—” Kristina lunged out of her seat, seeing her mother move towards the door. “I’m supposed to be arraigned—”

“I’ll handle it today, but I can’t be your lawyer, Kristina. I could have if you’d come to me after you’d done it.” Alexis took a few steps back toward her daughter. “I’d have done almost anything to protect you. But not like this. Not after you tried to destroy Elizabeth’s life—or after your actions led to your sister’s death. I can’t do this. I won’t.”

“Mom—I didn’t—I just—I thought they’d arrest Jason! Or that he’d confess to get Elizabeth out of trouble!” Kristina tried to reach for her mother, but Alexis held out her hands to stop her. “I thought if he confessed, he’d go away, and everything would be the way it was supposed to—”

“But he didn’t. And you didn’t back down. You kept going. And going. Until you took Sam down with you. I can’t—I can’t stand by and let you think this is okay. I won’t. I’ll be in the hallway until they call your case.”

Corinthos & Morgan Coffee: Cargo Dock

Jason scribbled his name at the bottom of a form, then handed it a supervisor. When he returned inside to the main floor, he saw a familiar figure standing near his office. “I thought you’d be at the court house,” he said.

He opened the door, and gestured for Sonny to go in first. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know really. I guess—we haven’t seen each other since…” Sonny stopped, rubbed his chin. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to you. They, ah, don’t really make a greeting card for this kind of thing.”

“There’s nothing to say, Sonny. Kristina tried to frame Elizabeth for murder and dragged Sam into it. Now Sam’s dead and Kristina’s going to jail. For the rest of her life, I would think.” Jason crossed to the coffee machine. He wanted something to do with his hands, wanted something to focus on. To stop himself from asking the obvious.

“I didn’t suspect her, Jason. Not in any real way that mattered. Not until that last day.”

Jason turned, looked at him, but said nothing, letting the uncomfortable silence linger. “And when you did suspect her, you and Alexis went out to confront her. What was the plan, Sonny? Were you going to turn her in, exonerate Elizabeth?”

“We…hadn’t really gotten that far,” Sonny said, but looked away. “I don’t know. I want to tell you that I’d have done anything I could to get Elizabeth out of this, but…I don’t know,” he repeated. “Diane had a good case for trial. She probably wouldn’t have been convicted.”

“Yeah. That’s what I figured.”

“Jase—”

“We don’t really have anything to say to each other, Sonny.” Jason crossed to his desk, his coffee in his hand now. He set the mug down. “You would have protected your family. I know that. You’d have made sure Kristina was safe and out of the country, and then maybe you’d have thought about Elizabeth. Maybe.”

Sonny slid his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “I wouldn’t have felt good about it—”

“But you’d have done it anyway.”

“You’ve have done it for your family—”

“I thought—” Jason stopped, then shook his head slightly. It didn’t matter. “My sons wouldn’t have done this to someone else. When Danny thought Elizabeth might go to jail because of what he’d done, he tried to tell the judge to take him instead. Immediately. Did you know that?” he demanded. “He jumped right up in court. Took accountability. Something Kristina clearly doesn’t understand. I hear that she turned down a deal already.”

“It was a shit deal—life in prison, no parole—you think that’s fair? Cates was scum!”

“Yeah, he was. And if she’d asked me to help her cover it up, I’d have done it. No questions asked, Sonny. I’d have burned that gun in acid, broken it into pieces, and made sure it never turned up,” Jason said flatly. “That’s not what Kristina chose to do. She lied her way into Elizabeth’s house, stole her car keys, planted a murder weapon in her car, and then made sure the FBI went looking for it. They locked her up, Sonny. For nearly a week. You think Elizabeth deserved that?”

“No—”

“You think Jake deserved to be interrogated and have his life torn apart by the Feds? Danny being followed around and questioned? You think they deserved that? That only happens because Kristina frames Elizabeth and drags us into the investigation. She was under house arrest, Sonny. Had to sign documents so that Aiden had guardianship. Kristina knew all that was happening. And it wasn’t enough for her. She threw Danny under the bus, made sure his drinking was on federal record. And that wasn’t enough either, was it, Sonny?” Jason demanded. “Because she was willing to let everyone believe Sam was sabotaging Elizabeth, too! And now Sam’s dead. If you ask me, life in prison is too good for her. Be grateful I’m letting it go at that.”

“What does that mean?” Sonny demanded, heat rushing to his cheeks. “What are you threatening—”

“I’m not threatening anything, Sonny. That’s not how I operate and you know it. I’m telling you that Kristina decided to make herself my enemy when she attacked my family. Which she did repeatedly for weeks. Letting her rot in prison is the least of what she deserves.”

Jason walked past Sonny, dragged open the office door. “I wasn’t going to have this conversation with you. We didn’t need to put any of this into words. Because you know what you were planning to do, what you would have done if you’d reached Kristina first last week. You know and I know that when it came down to it — you were going to protect your daughter and my family wasn’t even a factor. I’ve spent enough time on you, Sonny. Wasted enough. Don’t come back.”

June 10, 2026

This entry is part 112 of 113 in the Flash: You're Not Sorry

Written in 71 minutes. This is shorter than I wanted it to be, but my contacts were bothering me, and Jason and Elizabeth were being annoying — I couldn’t find the right angle, and I didn’t just want to just trash the scene. I think I like where it ended up.


Thursday, October 3, 2024

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

At the sound of the door opening, Rocco shot up from the bottom step, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He didn’t really know what he was going to say when he saw Danny, but he’d figure it out wouldn’t he?

Jake came in first, the keys dangling from his hand as he entered and turned slightly, his two younger brothers following—Aiden, then Danny last. Danny’s hair was disheveled — not in the deliberate way he usually tried to achieve, but in the probably just ran his fingers through it style. His face seemed a little swollen, especially around the eyes, the black eye from the fight last week fading into shades of a green.

“Hey. Hi.” Rocco cleared his throat. “Um, they’re, like—” he nodded towards the double doors. “They’re in there. Your grandmother and Scout. And Drew and Willow and Brook—my dad—” He stopped, feeling uncomfortable. “Anyway. I’m…sorry. About you know.”

“My mother being dead,” Danny finished and Rocco’s cheeks heated. He dropped his eyes to the floor.

“Uh, right. That. Yeah.” He cleared his throat, shifted from one foot to the other. “I think they told your sister. I don’t know. I didn’t wanna be in there. It’s like—” He stopped, dropped back to the bottom step. “Never mind.”

Danny grimaced, then headed for the doors, pulled them open and went inside. Voices bubbled through the opening briefly before returning to the muffled tones once Danny had closed the door behind himself.

Aiden let out a deep sigh, sat next to Rocco. “Man, this sucks. I don’t know what we’re supposed to say to him, you know? I keep thinking I’ll figure it out, or like, the words will come, but they don’t.”

“I don’t really think there’s much we can say,” Jake said. “Especially…not me and Aiden. I mean, your dad still sucks,” he told Aiden, “but we’ve got our mom—” he looked at Rocco. “And you could try the whole my mom’s in a coma thing—”

“But coma isn’t dead. Yeah.” Rocco exhaled slowly. “And he’s gonna think I’m an asshole because I was thinking it was over with you, you know? Like one way or another. Die or wake up. Not this stupid in between. Just saying it outloud makes me sound like a dick. He’d slug me again, and I’d deserve it this time.”

“You deserved it the last time,” Jake said absently tugging his phone from his pocket and seeing Cameron’s text in the notification screen. “Stay out of trouble,” he told them. “I’m gonna—I gotta call someone.”

Vista Point: Observatory Deck

Elizabeth folded her arms on the guard rail, then leaned over it, focusing in Spoon Island and the turrets of Wyndemere. The light of the day was starting to fade but the gothic mansion was still clearly visible. “Am I imagining it, or are you taking those turns slower than you used to?”

“Not as reckless as I used to be.” Jason leaned against the guard rail, facing away from the island, away from where his sister had lost her life nearly twenty years earlier. “It was easier then. To let it all disappear. And if it didn’t, I’d just go faster. Take the turns with more speed. Eventually the adrenaline, the roar, it would burn away whatever was in my head.”

“And now?” Elizabeth asked, though she knew the answer.

“Now, I think about you and the boys.” Their eyes met, and one corner of his mouth curved up. “And I never went as fast as I could with you behind me.”

“I know,” she muttered and his mouth curved into a deeper smile. “I’d think we were going so fast, and then you’d prove how much you held back by leaving my grandmother’s house even faster. Drove me crazy.” She poked him lightly. “And you knew that.”

He tipped his head in acknowledgment, then sighed, some of the amusement fading from his expression. “I think about who I used to be. Reckless. Careless. With myself, with the people around me—it was easier after the accident. When it was just me.”

“When your choices didn’t have a domino effect on everyone around you,” she murmured. “I hopped a plane to Port Charles on a whim because I didn’t like the rules where I was staying. I was barely fifteen when I did that. I was Aiden and Danny’s age. Reckless. Careless.”

“But there were always people those choices affected,” Jason continued. “My parents. Emily. My grandparents. Just because I didn’t care about them—”

“Didn’t mean there wasn’t a ripple effect.”

“Sam was like that,” Jason said, and she tilted her head, watching him. “Maybe it’s part of the reason I thought we fit together. She was impulsive, hot-tempered, and didn’t trust anyone. I don’t think she ever really grew out of that. Or stopped thinking of herself as the center of the universe. What she wanted and needed always came first. Always,” he repeated, a little more quietly, more to himself.

“It’s a hard balance,” Elizabeth said slowly, “to learn when it’s okay to put yourself first and when you should come second. You get told over and over again that relationships are compromised, and you start to tell yourself that if the person you love is happy, then it’s worth it. You never stop to ask yourself — why is it always about them? Why am I always the one making the sacrifice?” She bit her lip, traced her fingertip along a strip of paint peeling from the guard rail. “You let Sam — and me — have our way with the boys. You never pushed me back with me, even when you should have. And it took so much for you to push with Sam.”

“She wanted to be a mother so much, and I thought it was my fault she couldn’t. And then it was my fault that I made her pregnancy a miserable experience. My fault Danny was kidnapped.” Jason sighed. “And then, it felt like my fault that he was acting out. It was my fault,” he added when Elizabeth made a face. “But she knew who I was when we met. She always knew. And she made the choice anyway.” He tipped his face up slightly, looking at the clouds, at the sky fading from blue to purples and pinks of twilight. “I don’t know how to help Danny through this when the way I feel about his mother is so complicated. When he knows how bitter it was by the end.”

“I know all the things we said to each other the other night,” she said after a long moment. “And that we have a lot baggage between us. Especially when it comes to Sam. But I don’t want you to ever feel like I can’t handle the fact that you loved Sam. That you’re grieving this, too. No matter how angry you were—how angry I was with her—I don’t want us to pretend that the past didn’t happen. It’s not just the sweet memories I have of racing up these hills with you, screaming until I could barely speak — it’s the angry ones, too. The way we hurt each other. And we did hurt each other, Jason. Immensely. And repeatedly.”

“I know.” He sighed, then turned slightly so that he was facing her. “I wish we hadn’t.”

“I could wish I’d made better choices, but it’s that ripple effect all over again, isn’t it? If I’d trusted you more all those years ago when Lucky was starting those fights, would I have gone away with you? Would we have made it then? Where does that leave Cameron? He doesn’t exist if I don’t make that terrible choice with Zander,” she said. “I can’t imagine a world without him. The person I became because I was a mother — because you and I found each other and created Jake — and my sweet Aiden — if I don’t make the terrible choice to try one more time with Lucky—and yes, if you and Sam don’t break my heart and get married — we don’t have Danny.” She reached out, touched the leather jacket he wore, sliding her finger down the teeth of the zipper. “Danny, the angry boy who shoves kids into lockers to protect my son. Who helped Aiden feel safe. None of that happens if you and I don’t make terrible choices to love other people.”

“I don’t know how you do that,” Jason said, with a slight shake of his head. “To find the good in everything. In everyone.” He brought her hand to his lips. “But you’re right. I don’t want to live in a world where the boys aren’t exactly who they are.”

“A long time ago, I was a very young woman, too terrified to walk away from the life I thought I always wanted — I thought that the only way to love someone was to fix them, to take care of them, to be needed. I don’t know if we would have made it, Jason,” she told him softly. “Because you weren’t ready to trust that someone could love you. Could accept who you were, inside and out. I don’t want to think of all the years we’ve spent apart as time that’s been wasted. That’s too sad, too easy. I’d rather think of it as a journey, and it’ll be a long time before we reach the end. This is just another chapter, and it’s one we’ll start together.”

June 8, 2026

This entry is part 111 of 113 in the Flash: You're Not Sorry

Written in 58 minutes.


Thursday, October 3, 2024

Webber House: Living Room

Jason waited until Diane’s car had pulled away from the curb before closing the door, focusing on Elizabeth who stood a few feet away, one arm wrapped around her middle, biting absently at the thumbnail on her other hand. “What’s wrong?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “You don’t look like someone whose had murder charges dropped.”

“What?” She blinked, looked at him, then exhaled slowly. “Oh. I’m just—I’m just trying to think through the next step. I want to tell the boys, but I don’t want it to look like I’m sharing good news—I almost wish all of that had waited a few more days—”

Jason just shook his head, drew her close and kissed her forehead. “It is good news, and you are allowed to be relieved. I’m relieved,” he added when she sighed again. “To know we never have to drive to Rochester, that you get your life back, that we don’t have to start thinking about preparing for a trial—”

“I know, I know.” She flattened her hands against his chest, then slid one hand up to the nape of his neck, then back down again, restless with her own worry. “I just—it’s all happening at once. We went from being almost certain I’d be taken back into custody, and the hearing, and everything that happened because of that—” Elizabeth met his eyes. “It’s barely been twenty-four hours since we found out Kristina was even a suspect, and now she’s under arrest, I’m free, and—” She pressed her lips together. “It’s hard to feel relief for myself when Danny’s in so much pain, when I know you must be so hurt about Kristina—”

“I—” Jason stopped, considered denying that he felt anything about Kristina’s actions, but settled for the truth. “I don’t know if hurt is the right word. Confused,” he clarified. “I think that’s…I can understand why she’d want him gone, and if she’d just…” He slid his fingers through hair, letting the silky strands fall through his fingers. “If she’d come to me, if she’d just told me she’d done this thing, I’d have handled it. I’d have made it go away.”

“I wonder if she’ll ever tell us why,” Elizabeth murmured. “As frustrated as I might be with Alexis, it’s hard to hold a grudge. Her entire world has shattered. Sam’s gone, Molly seemed so betrayed, and Kristina’s just…destroyed so much of their family. I know I was angry at Alexis and Sonny last night, for all they’ve done to cover up for Kristina, but it’s hard not to understand where they’re coming from. What wouldn’t we do to protect our children?”

Jason opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of footsteps thudding down the steps, slow and deliberate, more than one pair. So different than the usual thundering roar.

Jake appeared around the landing first, followed by Aiden, and then finally Danny. “Hey. Um, if it’s okay—if I can borrow the car, we thought—Danny wanted to go over to see his sister.”

“Oh—of course.” Elizabeth turned to face them, to look at Danny who kept his eyes down. “Do you want us to go with you, or—”

“I think maybe it could just be us,” Danny said hesitantly. He cleared his throat, finally lifting his gaze to hers before looking at his father. “I…talked to Rocco. Um, my grandma’s there, and I guess so is Drew. I don’t know if…”

“Right. Maybe we shouldn’t. Not right now,” Jason said. Things would be awkward and tense enough without the added layers. He and Drew weren’t on the best of terms, and he didn’t know what he’d say to Alexis. “Diane came by. They, uh, they dropped the charges against your mother.”

Jake blinked, and Aiden’s head snapped up. “What? What?”

“It’s over?” Danny wanted to know. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “You’re…it’s over?”

“Did they arrest her?” Jake demanded. “Is it for real? Or is it another trick?”

“Kristina is under arrest,” Elizabeth said. “And my charges are dropped. That’s all we—” She was cut off when Aiden crossed the room and abruptly hugged her so tight she lost her breath. She stroked his hair, closing his eyes. “It’s okay, baby. My part of this is over.”

“Your part?” Jake echoed. He looked at his father. “Do you think they’re coming after you next?”

“We really don’t know yet. Maybe not. But we can handle it. I just—I thought you might want to know before you went over. I think Alexis already knows. ”

“I’m glad, Mom.” Jake came over to hug her as soon as Aiden let her go. “Call Cam. He’ll bitch if he’s left out again.”

“My first call, I promise.” She kissed his cheek, then looked at Danny staring at them, her heart aching for him. For all the pain and anger that had passed between her and Sam, the thought of never being able to hug her boys again — for Danny, knowing he’d never get that chance again—

She cleared her throat, looked away from Danny to Jake, patted his shoulder. “Let Alexis know if she needs anything, or if Scout needs anything—”

“If Scout needs something,” Jake said. “I don’t really care—”

“Hey.” She lifted her brows, but lowered her voice. “Forget the rest of it. That’s Danny’s grandmother, and they’ve had a devastating loss. All of that can wait, Jake. We take care of Danny and his family today.”

Jake grimaced, then finally nodded. “Yeah, okay. Okay.” He kissed her cheek, then looked at his brothers. “Come on, let’s go.”

When the boys had left, Elizabeth sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, leaving both her hands linked at her nape, looked at Jason. “I don’t know if that’s the right thing to do. To tell Jake that we just…put everything else to the side. I don’t know if I’m just doing the same thing to him that I’ve done to myself.”

“Put everyone else first?” Jason asked, and she nodded. He held out her hand, and pulled her towards him. “I couldn’t even get that frustrated when you’d do it,” he told her, stroking her back. “Because I do it, too, don’t I?”

“You always asked me what I wanted, and what I needed, like it was the only thing that mattered, and it used to make me crazy because…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I’d stopped thinking any of that was important, you know? I didn’t know what I wanted. And that hasn’t changed. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do, Jason. How do we balance all of this? Kristina framed me for murder and she tried to sabotage my bail. She wanted me taken away from my boys. And she was going to let her own sister take the blame, wasn’t she? That’s why Sam was forcing her to come clean—and now—now it’s not just clearing my name — it’s all these people she’s hurt.  Danny, Scout, Alexis, Molly. And Dante, I feel so awful for all of them. I just—” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “There’s too much going on in my head, too many pieces, too many people—”

“Come on.” He kept her hands in his, pulling her towards the door, scooping up his keys on the way. “I think we both need a break.”

General Hospital: Hallway

Sonny grimaced when he saw Carly turn the corner, heading straight for him, like a woman on a mission. Because all this terrible day needed was Carly.

“What do you want?” he demanded when she came close.

She lifted her brows, folded her arms. “I’ll let you get away with that because I know what kind of day you’re having.” She sat down in one of the chairs by Kristina’s room. “Why aren’t you in with her?”

“She’s in and out of consciousness.” Sonny sat next to her, stretching his legs out, clasping his hands in his lap. “Why are  you here?” he asked, this time a little less aggressively.

“Michael called me.”

He felt her eyes on him, and when he looked over she was watching him. “What?”

“I’m trying to think what I’d be feeling if I learned one of my kids framed Jason for murder, and was responsible for killing one another of my kids—or my kid’s half-siblings.” She squinted. “Do we know what the hell Kristina was thinking or is that why you’re sitting out here? Afraid she’ll answer the question?”

Sonny sighed. He wanted to hate her for how bluntly she’d phrased the situation, but it was nothing but the truth. Kristina had framed—or attempted—to frame Jason, and her actions had put her sister in the middle of a flash flood, leading directly to her death.

“The day after Cates was killed,” Sonny said slowly, turning away from Carly, staring at a framed landscape photo on the wall across the hallway. “The day after,” he repeated, “Brick told me the murder weapon. And I thought—that’s a strange combination. Not completely bizarre, but not exactly common. I got up, and I looked. The gun was missing.”

Carly pursed her lips. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. What was I gonna do?” Sonny grimaced. “I knew the list of people who could get in that safe was small. I knew Kristina was angry enough at him to want him dead. But I didn’t care.” He stroked his chin. “Then that gun showed up in Elizabeth’s car, and I thought, well, you know, there’s no way it’s her. No way she’d do this.” He looked Carly again. “No way she does to Jason. To Jason’s family. To put Jason’s son through. Not after what Jason’s done for her. Not with Danny being so happy to have his dad back. I figure, it’s one of my guys who thinks Jason’s a snitch. I pass the information to Spinelli. I never—I had that moment—but it passed, you know, because I thought, I taught my kids about loyalty, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Carly said slowly. “But sometimes—you know, I was furious with Jason for letting us think he was dead. Trying to keep me out of trouble the way he did. Like it was his job to save me from myself—but that’s who he’s always been. Someone to save me from myself even when I didn’t ask for it. It’s who we’ve taught him to be, Sonny. And you and me, we saw it as loyalty because I’d do the same for him, and I think you might, too. I’m not so sure it’s the message we sent our kids. Michael thought Jason was there to bail him out of trouble, didn’t he? How many times did he and Sam go running to help Kristina?”

“She was family—”

“To Sam, to Jason, sure. But I think maybe we taught our kids Jason’s someone we use. Someone who is supposed to save you from yourself.” Carly paused. “Have you spoken to Jason since this went down?”

“And say what? My daughter tried to destroy your life, killed your son’s mother, and I probably should have known?” Sonny shook his head. “No. I don’t think Jason’s gonna want anything to do with me. Especially after I get Kristina a lawyer.”

“Sonny.”

“She’s my daughter, Carly. Am I supposed to just abandon her?” Sonny demanded when his ex-wife scoffed. “Whatever she did, for whatever reason she did it, it’s not changing anything else. That’s my daughter, and I have to take care of her. You’re telling me you’d abandon your kid like this?”

Carly pursed her lips, then reluctantly shook her head. “No. I guess not. Don’t let him find out from court filings, Sonny. He deserves to know where you stand.”

June 4, 2026

This entry is part 110 of 113 in the Flash: You're Not Sorry

Written in 65 minutes.


Thursday, October 3, 2024

Webber House: Danny’s Room

Danny sat the end of the bed, hunched over with his arms clasped around his torso, staring hard at the ground. “Did she feel any pain?” he asked finally.

Dante, standing at the window, turned back to the sullen teenager. “Know?” he echoed.

“M-Mom. Did she—I mean—” Danny’s voice wobbled. “Does it hurt to down? It has to, right. You’re trying to breathe, and you c-can’t because there’s water—”

“Hey.” Dante sat next to him, put an arm around his shoulder. “Your mom wouldn’t  want you thinking about any of this right now, okay? Don’t do this. We don’t—we don’t know what she was thinking or feeling.”

“She was scared. She was so scared, and I couldn’t stop it. If I didn’t make all this trouble—”

“Danny. I need you to look at me. Can you do that?”

Dante waited until Danny looked at him, tears glimmering in his eyes, the corners of his mouth pulled down at the corners. “I need you to separate those things in your head because they are not related. You were going through a hell of a time, and you were doing the best you could. You’re a kid, Danny. Your job is not to be perfect. It’s our job as adults to help you fix them, to get through it, and back on the other side. Your mom just wanted you to be okay—”

“Don’t lie.” Danny lurched off the bed, stalked towards the wall then spun back. “It’s all connected, I know it is. I saw her yesterday, okay? And if I had believed her, if I had told her I knew it wasn’t her, she wouldn’t have gone after Aunt Kristina—”

“You’re not the only one who didn’t believe her, Danny. And it’s a weight I’ll carry the rest of my life,” Dante told him. He slowly rose to his feet. “Your mom made choices that made it hard to trust her, and Kristina took advantage of that. No one else is to blame except Kristina for lying and making all of this so much worse.”

Danny exhaled slowly, his breath shaky. “I wish I’d been nicer. When we had our visit last week. I picked a fight because I wanted her to be honest, but I wish I didn’t. I just—” He faltered, swallowed hard. “I thought I had more time.” He met Dante’s gaze. “We were supposed to have more time.”

Quartermaine Estate: Kitchen

Sasha set down another pan of lasagna on a warming plate, then removed her oven mitts. “I think I went overboard,” she said to Rocco. “Three is probably too many.”

“Grandma says you can never have too much lasagna,” Rocco said absently pulling his phone from his pocket again, running his finger over the messages app. “Any cookies left?”

“They’re in the second oven now. Oatmeal raisin.” She watched him stare at his phone for another moment. “Expecting a call or something?”

“What?” He blinked at her. “No. I just—” He sighed, then crossed the kitchen to hand her his phone. A text message had been pulled up.

“From Aiden,” Sasha said. “Hey. I know you weren’t Sam’s biggest fan, but this really sucks dude and I’m sorry. Danny won’t really talk to me. I just want to help.” She looked at him. “This is a nice message.”

“Yeah. Aiden’s the nice one.” Rocco took the phone, slid it back in his pocket. “I’m the trouble maker, Danny’s the asshole.”

“Sounds like everyone’s got their role to play.” An oven dinged, and Sasha went to pull out a tray. “Have you talked to Danny?”

“No. It’s only been a few hours.” Rocco shifted, uncomfortable. “He won’t wanna talk to me.”

“Sounds like he won’t talk to anyone. Doesn’t mean you don’t let him know you’re there when he’s ready. Maybe he thinks you won’t be there.” Sasha gestured at the cookies. “Let them sit for about thirty minutes. I’m going to check on Monica and see what she wants for dinner.”

Rocco sighed, then sat back at the table, staring at his phone. Finally, he brought up Danny’s contact information.

Im sorry this sucks

A few minutes later, there was a bubble, indicating Danny was typing back, and then—

no shit asshole does scout know?

 i think so your gmom went in to do it you should come over to see her you and aiden or something

Rocco typed the invitation out in a rush, and then put the phone upside down so he wouldn’t stare at the text wishing he could drag it back.

Webber House: Living Room

Elizabeth was restless, searching for something—anything—to do and had settled for folding and refolding some of the casual throw blankets strewn over the sofa and the armchair. Dante and Michael had left not long ago, and the boys were upstairs in their room.

“Who was that?” she asked when Jason came in through the front door. “Any news?”

“Not much. Just—” He set the cordless phone back on the base. “They recovered her…” He looked at her. “They’ve taken her to GH.”

“Oh.” Her throat felt strange and she looked down at the blanket in her hands. “It seems so strange,” Elizabeth murmured. “All that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. The last month.” She met his gaze. “It’s barely been that long since I was arrested, and it feels like the whole world has changed since then. Since that day at the boat house. For so long, I just focused on my freedom. On getting the charges dropped.” She let the blanket fall. “Now? It seems so far away.” She sat on the arm of the sofa, watching him. “I don’t know what to say to you.”

Jason came around her, sat down in the arm chair, bracing his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands between them. “I don’t know what I’m feeling,” he admitted.  “Worry. Sadness. Regret. Not that—not that Sam and I couldn’t—” He leaned back, letting his hands fall back to the arms of the chair. “Not that we couldn’t make it work because we just were never good for each other again.” He looked at her. “And I like where I am now. But—”

“But she was still someone you loved and made a life with.” Elizabeth touched his hand, and let him pull her down so that she was sitting across his lap, almost curled into his side. “I didn’t like her much in the end,” she said softly. “No. I hated her. Most of the time, I hated her. But she was loved by people that I care about. And she was a mother. I can feel sadness for her kids today. For her mother, for all Alexis’s fault, burying a child is a horror. I know we got a miracle, but I will never forget how it felt to stand over his grave.”

Jason stroked her back, and she pressed her forehead against his, letting the warmth of their embrace comfort them both.  “I wish we could have found our way to the other side of this. I never wanted Danny to lose his mother. I never wanted it this way.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond, but there was a brisk knock at the door that drew her attention. She got to her feet, tugging at the bottom of her t-shirt, then went over to pull open the door. “Diane.”

“Hello. I—” She hesitated, looked at Jason who had also stood. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, no, just—” Elizabeth closed the door. “Did something happen?”

“Yes. I—” Diane exhaled in a rush of breath. “I just received word from the court. Noah Reynolds has filed for a dismissal of all charges.”

“Already?” Elizabeth demanded.

“I thought it would be a few more days,” Jason said. “Or that he’d fight it—”

“I don’t know what’s going on or why it’s happening so fast, but I will be watching him like a hawk.” Diane clasped her hands together. “But as far as I can tell, this is over. Pretrial services will be reaching out to you,” she told Elizabeth. “To arrange the end of your supervision and removal of the ankle bracelet.”

“Just like that,” Elizabeth murmured. “It’s over.” She pressed a fist to her chest, tears pressing behind her eyes. “That’s—” She looked at Jason. “It’s over.”

He drew her close to him, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her hair, before looking over at Diane. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for trusting me. I’ll keep you all informed as the case continues, I know we won’t want any surprises. But for now your family can focus on Danny and taking care of each other.”

General Hospital: Morgue

The elevators let out a ding as the doors slid open and TJ stepped out, scanning the area for his target. He grimaced when he found Molly sitting outside the entrance to the morgue, her arms wrapped around herself. “I was hoping Ted was wrong when he called me and told me you were here.”

Molly didn’t even bother to look up. “It has to be done.”

“No. It doesn’t. But even if it does, let it be someone else—”

“There’s no one else.” Now, she did lift her eyes to him, bloodshot and swollen. “My mother is with Scout. Kristina’s is in the ICU and even if she weren’t, I wouldn’t want her anywhere near Sam. There’s no one else TJ.”

She rose to her feet when the door opened and an attendant came out. “Ms. Davis? You can come into the viewing room and we’ll…bring her in.”

“Mols—”

Molly ignored him, went inside the room but didn’t protest when he followed her. They stood in the quiet, cold room with the lights dimmed, a large picture window opened to an examining room.

“The youngest daughter is supposed to be the wild and carefree one, did you know that?” she asked TJ. “The middle child gets overlooked, and the oldest gets all the pressure. But it was never like that in our family. I think it’s because Sam came to us last. She came to Mom already broken, living life on the edge. Always looking for a thrill. She tried to be a good older sister, but she didn’t really know how. I don’t know what happened with me. When I decided it would be my job to take care of Kristina.” She looked at TJ. “When did we decide that, do you think? When did it become my responsibility to clean up Kristina’s messes?”

“Mols—”

TJ stopped when the attendant came in the other room, rolling in a stretcher, a body with a sheet drawn over it. Molly’s body began to tremble — just slightly. Her fingers, clutching at her shoulders shaking.

They drew back the sheet, and there she was — her skin pale, slightly bloated, with a cut above her eyebrows, and bruising at her jaw. Molly met the eyes of the attendant, jerked her head down in a nod, and Sam’s face was quickly covered.

Molly turned to look at TJ, opened her mouth, then shook her head and hurried over to a nearby trash can, leaving over to vomit.

June 1, 2026

This entry is part 2 of 5 in the Flash Fiction: The Archer

Written in 67 minutes.


Friday, October 13, 2000

Kelly’s: Dining Room

The dinner rush was at its height when Lucky yanked opened the door, the bells jangling awkwardly from the force. Nearly every table in the main dining room and in the courtyard was filled. Elizabeth and the other waitress, Penny Ramirez, were weaving in and around tables, lifting trays high over the heads of their customers, passing out meals and drinks. Every seat was taken, including the row of stools at the counter.

“Hey,” Elizabeth said as he passed her. “If you’re here for dinner, give DJ your order in the kitchen. I’ll try to come back when I have a second.”

He made a face — after the scene with his father, all he really wanted to do was run it by Elizabeth, try to understand what was going on in his head, but of course — she was busy. She was always busy.

Lucky scowled when a customer shoved back his chair and jostled him. “Hey, what what you’re doing.”

“Sorry, sorry—”

But Lucky was already in the kitchen, snagging a menu on his way. “Hey, DJ. How long for a BLT?” he wanted to know.

The harried line cook tossed another set of orders in the window, then slid an order pad down counter to Lucky. “Fill it out, put it on the board. I’ll get it when I get it.”

By the time the tables began to thin out, and Elizabeth came back to the kitchen, Lucky had already eaten and started to empty the tubes of dishes into the dishwasher. She appeared in the archway between the dining room and the kitchen, tendrils of sweat sliding down her cheeks, and errant curls slicked against her cheeks where they’d escaped the pins she’d used to keep the short strands out of her hair.

“I am never going to no show for another shift again,” she said, rolling her shoulders.

Lucky grunted, slapped the machine shut. “You should tell Bobbie. Tammy shouldn’t be doing that to you. You want me to say something?”

“What? No.” Elizabeth crossed to the small line of lockers and tugged out the notebook she usually kept for sketching, then hopped onto the counter next the dishwasher. “DJ, you should take your break now. There’s no orders on the board. I’ll come get you if we need you back sooner.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. Thanks, Lizzie.” The cook headed for the doorway the alley, one hand already tugging a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

“Hey, you had to get a passport, right?” Elizabeth said, folding a page back. “When you went to see your mom in Switzerland, right? Or was it London?”

“When she was away with my grandmother? Switzerland. Yeah, why?” Lucky furrowed his brow. “Do you need a passport? What for?”

Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled. “Chloe Morgan offered me a temporary job while her assistant is on maternity leave. She said she’s going to be traveling a lot next year, and I’ll need to get mine as possible, but I haven’t had a chance to look it up. Do you remember what you needed for yours?”

“You’re going to travel? Where?” Lucky shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his chest feel tight. “For how long?”

Oblivious, Elizabeth shrugged. “Chloe and I are going to work out an official start date, but I’m going to be shadowing her assistant whenever I’m not here to train, and then she said London in January, and we’ll probably be there a few weeks. And then Rome and Paris, and oh, there were a few more places—”

“So you’ll basically be gone the entire time.”

Elizabeth closed her mouth, frowned at him. “What?”

“Weeks here, weeks there. You’ll be gone more than you’ll be here. That’s what I’m hearing.”

“I—” She bit her lip, looked back at her notebook. “I guess so. I don’t know that part yet—”

“You don’t know, but you already agreed to do it. Without talking to me about it?”

“I didn’t—” She slid off the counter, then leaned against it, clutching her notebook to her chest. “I didn’t think about it.”

“Oh, so you don’t think about me. How your decisions affect me. That’s really great.” Lucky shook his head, turned away. “Good to know.”

“Lucky—” She started to follow him as he headed for the stairs. “Let’s talk about it. It could be such a great opportunity for me—”

“You don’t even like clothes,” Lucky said, whirling back at her. “You never talk about fashion or any of that.”

“I—” Her eyes widened. “I used to. I used to read all those magazines. But it would be traveling and seeing all these amazing places. It could be so inspirational—”

“For you. What about me? How can you be so selfish? I just got my life back. I just got me back,” Lucky continued, pressing a hand against his chest, his voice cracking slightly. “We lost so much time, Elizabeth. But maybe you liked it better when I was gone and you could go and do whatever you wanted without thinking about anyone else.”

“What? No. No.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Chloe. I’ll find out how much and travel is really involved, and if it’s not too much—y-you’re right. I should be here with you. We did lose so much, and—” Her smile wobbled slightly, and he looked away. “Maybe I don’t need to go with her or something.”

“Do whatever you want. You will anyway.”

She started to say something else, but the bell over the door jingled, and she looked towards the entrance. When she looked back, Lucky had gone upstairs. A moment later, his door slammed.

Elizabeth looked down at her notebook where she’d been making notes about everything she’d need — luggage, passport, identification, to upgrade her work wardrobe—

She hadn’t even thought about all the time she’d be away, all the time she’d be away from Lucky. It hadn’t even occurred to her. What kind of person did that make her?

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny’s mood hadn’t really improved by the time he’d returned home that night, and his mood wasn’t entirely improved by seeing Carly on the sofa, talking animatedly to Jason. The three of them had rarely been in the same room alone much in the last year, and Sonny preferred it that way.

“Oh. Hey.” Carly got to her feet, standing awkwardly. “Um, Jason was here to see Michael. I had some Halloween costumes—” She flicked her eyes at their friend who also got to his feet. “It’s, um, good news that he’s sticking around a little longer, right?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Sonny paused. “You mind giving us a few minutes to talk? Maybe go upstairs to hang out with Michael?”

“Is it about the case? I thought it was all handled—” Carly began, but Jason sent her a look and Sonny tried not flinch when Carly stopped protesting and headed for the stairs. Why would she listen to Jason and not him?

“Everything okay?” Jason asked, coming towards Sonny who was lifting the decanter of bourbon and tilting to pour the dark liquid into the crystal tumbler.

“Depends on the definition.” Sonny lifted the glass to his mouth. “Why are you really hanging around?”

Jason squinted, tilting his head slightly. “You asked me to. Zander Smith could still make some trouble for my sister. Right now, he’s cooperating against Sorel, but if that goes south, he knows Emily and Elizabeth were involved that cop’s death.”

“Not a lot of evidence to support that, and Emily’s got connections to keep her good. You really don’t have to stay.” Sonny lifted his brows. “Unless you want to be here.”

Jason tensed. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“No. No, damn it.” Sonny huffed. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just—I had an uncomfortable conversation with Luke down at the club today, and then I come here—and you’ve done nothing wrong, but it doesn’t—” He shook his head, set down the bourbon to rub one side of his face. “I just can’t let myself get comfortable.” He looked back at Jason. “And Luke reminded me another reason you left town last January.”

“What was that?”

“Sorel was targeting Elizabeth.”

Jason tensed, looked away. “You said that was done—”

“Because you left. She’s not worth much to him without you around. I mean, I don’t want her hurt on principle, so maybe he could have still played some games. But it’s different and you know it. You stick around, maybe all of that starts up again. And the rumors start again.” Jason opened his mouth, and Sonny held up a finger. “Let me finish. You and I know why you were in that studio. And so do important people. But not everyone believed it. And the statute of limitations on Moreno isn’t done. Elizabeth could still be dragged into a police investigation. People could still make trouble.” He hesitated. “And things are different now, aren’t they? Lucky’s home. And they’re back together.”

“I don’t understand what any of that has to do with me staying or going,” Jason said flatly. “The people who need to know what last December was about know. And if Sorel comes near Elizabeth, I’ll finish what I started that day on the docks.”

“And Lucky?”

“What about him? He was kidnapped and brainwashed, at least that what Elizabeth tells me. That’s over. She’s got him back. Do you want me to go, Sonny? Is that what this is about?” Jason demanded.

“No, it’s—” Sonny sighed. “I don’t know what it’s about. I feel…itchy. Restless. Like we got off easy with Smith getting captured and turning against Sorel. I’m waiting for the second shoe to drop. For something to go wrong. For Carly to find another way to put someone in cuffs. And I’m taking it out on you, I’m sorry.”

“Sorel is the reason I’m sticking around.” Jason picked up his jacket from where he’d left it over the sofa. “Elizabeth and I are friends, and I want her to be happy. She says Lucky makes her happy.  Nothing else really matters, does it?”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Emily played with her straw, watching the vanilla milkshake swirl around the plastic tube, waiting for Elizabeth to finish clearing another table. “I got an email from Juan. He said he was sorry for this summer.”

Elizabeth lugged the full tub into the kitchen then returned to the table. “Well, sorry doesn’t change the way he drooled over Alison Barrington. If he could keep it in his pants, this entire stupid summer doesn’t happen.” She started to count out her receipts. “Don’t let him apologize his way into taking him back.”

“I won’t. Besides, he’s on tour with Lois now, so he’s done with Port Charles. Whatever.” Emily pursed her lips. “What’s wrong?”

Elizabeth flicked a glance at her, then back to her receipts. “What? Nothing.”

“No, I know that look. You don’t seem tired, you seem mopey. What’s up? C’mon, you spent all summer cleaning up my problems and listening to me complain about Juan. Let me do it for you.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, then nodded. “Okay. Well, Chloe offered me a temporary job and I’d have to travel a lot this spring. I’d basically be gone more than I’d be here.”

“Oh, my God, that’s so awesome! Chloe couldn’t have picked anyone better—” Emily stopped, frowned. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t we happy? Why aren’t we shopping?”

“I was really excited, but Lucky—I can’t leave him here while I go traveling,” Elizabeth said with a wrinkle of her nose. “He’s been through such hell in the last year, Em. Being kidnapped, brainwashed, dumped  back in Port Charles, and fighting his way back to us. To me. And now that I finally got him back, I’m going to abandon him for six months?”

Emily opened her mouth, then closed it, pressing her lips into grimace. Everything inside her screamed that Elizabeth turning down this opportunity would be a major mistake, but Lucky had been gone for so long, and they’d only just figured out what was wrong with him. “I guess that…I mean it’s one way of looking at it. Not a fun way,” she added and Elizabeth smiled weakly. “But that’s part of being in a relationship right. Giving up things for each other. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe he’ll feel better about it when he’s got a chance to think about it. He’s been through so much, Liz. We just have to give him time.”

“Time.” Elizabeth sighed. “Right. Time and patience. What else is new.” She went back in the kitchen, and Emily stared down at her milkshake, her stomach swirling uncomfortably, knowing she’d probably pushed Elizabeth even further from taking the opportunity.

Jake’s: Bar

When he wanted to forget about something, it was usually pretty easy. He just…didn’t think about it.  But it had been harder and harder to do that in the last few years, especially being back in Port Charles and seeing every mistake he’d made around every corner.

Jason pushed his way through the bar’s entrance, intending to have a few beers, play a few games of pool and forget about that stupid conversation with Sonny entirely.

He didn’t care that Lucky and Elizabeth were back together. Why would he? So what if the kid had been an asshole to him nearly ever time they’d seen one another?

But his plan to put the annoying Spencer out of his head failed immediately when he recognized the familiar blond sitting at the bar, a bottle in his hands. Jason grimaced, and nearly headed right for the stairs to his room.

But Jason didn’t run from anyone. And he had no reason to avoid Lucky Spencer.

“Usual,” he told the curly haired bartender, taking a stool a few down from Lucky.

“You got it, kid.” Jake uncapped the familiar green bottle, set it on the bar in front of him. “Good to hear you need the room a little longer. I like the steady tenants. Especially the ones that pay on time.” With that remark, she flicked an irritating look down the bar at Lucky who tensed.

“I told you, Jake. I’m good for it. You know that. I just have to find another job. You hiring?”

“You? Absolutely not.” Jake huffed, and left to talk to another customer.

“I’m not a deadbeat,” Lucky muttered. He glared at Jason. “And don’t you tell Elizabeth about this.”

Jason lifted his brows. “Excuse me?”

“I know you’re dying for another way to make me look bad, to be her hero,” Lucky sneered, “but she doesn’t need you anymore, okay?”

Jason sighed, slid off his stool, his beer in hand. Time to go upstairs.

“Why are you even here?” Lucky demanded. “You were supposed to leave!”

Jason heard a stool scrape back, and looked back to see Lucky getting to his feet, swaying slightly. How much had he already had to drink, Jason wondered. “Look—”

“She said she needed you because I was gone, but I’m back now. So she doesn’t need you anymore.” Lucky lifted his chin. “You leave her alone.”

He meant to walk away. To ignore this idiot looking for a fight. But there was something about Lucky’s stance — the way he was talking about Elizabeth — the way Sonny had talked about her— and the way she’d seemed so happy to find out he was staying —

Jason took one long swig of his beer, set it on the bar. “Why don’t you let Elizabeth decide what she wants?”

He saw the fist coming towards him, and let it land even though he could avoided it. He wanted to hit something. He’d deal with the consequences later.

May 29, 2026

This entry is part 1 of 5 in the Flash Fiction: The Archer

Written in 59 minutes. Huge thanks to Mariah and Pilar for the plot bunny!!!


Friday, October 13, 2000

Kelly’s: Dining Room

There were few shifts more grueling than the early morning rush at Kelly’s Diner on a Friday morning. The days were gradually growing shorter and shorter, the sun rising over the lake later and later. The air more crisp, the chill of wind biting just a little harder as the fall firmly settled over upper New York state, hinting at the harsh winter to come.

Elizabeth Webber had never been a morning person, but she’d learned early in her tenure as a waitress that if Ruby Anderson put you on the schedule, you had better show up and that hadn’t changed when the diner had been passed to her niece and nephew. Tammy Carson ran a tight shift — and Elizabeth owed her big time since she’d dropped to part-time hours over the summer and then no-showed last week on her shifts.

Of course, Elizabeth had a good reason — her best friend in the entire world had been taken hostage after a terrible plan had backfired, leaving Emily Quartermaine barreling towards the Canadian border in the company of drug dealer Zander Smith. Elizabeth and Emily’s friends and family had rushed into action, though she hadn’t really been necessary in the end. She’d almost been taken hostage herself.

That’s where she’d been a week ago instead of behind the counter at Kelly’s — in a clearing near the Canadian border, helpless as one of the goons from Zander’s bosses who were also on the heiress and drug dealer’s tail,  had caught her and her boyfriend, Lucky Spencer, unaware. Lucky had been trying to negotiate Elizabeth’s release without any luck. Fortunately, Emily’s older, Jason Morgan had arrived. He was much more equipped for those kinds of situations.

Now, Elizabeth had to pay for her trip north by opening and closing the diner that day.

“Next time, I’ll find coverage for my shift before I take off,” she muttered to herself, bending beneath the counter to locate the tub of napkins and clean utensils so she could wrap a bunch before the rush of warehouse and dock workers descended on her. She already had three big pots of coffee ready to go — this time of day, there was no point in even brewing decaf.

When she popped up with the plastic tub in her arms, she let out a startled half-scream, half-laugh. Jason was on the other side of the counter. “You scared the crap out of me.” She set the tub on the counter. “I wasn’t expecting anyone for at least twenty more minutes.”

He grinned at her, with the rare sparkle of amusement in his icy blue eyes. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I can come back, you know, if you’re too busy.”

“Don’t you dare—” She rolled her eyes, turned towards the coffee machines on the low counter behind her, then turned back, hesitating. “To go?”

“No, a cup is good.” He slid onto one of the stools. “You don’t normally open.”

“No, but—” Elizabeth grimaced, lifting a cup and saucer to sit in front of him. She flipped it open, then tilted the carafe until the dark liquid poured. “I’m doing penance for my botched attempt to save Emily. Double shift.”

He lifted his sandy brows, a hint of the smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth. “I did tell you to let me handle it.”

“Really? You’re going with ‘I told you so’?” She wrinkled her nose. “I expected better from you.” Jason just shrugged, but was still smiling. She busied herself with the sidework, collecting a knife and fork, then rolling it into the napkin. “I thought you were planning to head out. And, no, I’m not trying to get rid of you,” she added when Jason opened his mouth, that teasing light still in his eyes. “I was just wondering how long we get to keep you around.”

“I was thinking about it, but—” His expression sobered slightly.  “Zander Smith might be in jail, but that’s not over,” he said to her. “I wish you’d both come to me sooner.”

“I wanted to—you know that.” Elizabeth sighed. “And we should have. We just wanted to handle it on our own—and I didn’t want to upset Lucky.” She bit her lip, set aside another napkin bundle, began a new one. “Before we figured out about the brainwashing, he was so upset every time we questioned one of his plans—”

“Elizabeth.”

“It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud, but Lucky really did convince me that tying you in anyway to…” A dead police officer. She couldn’t even say it out loud. “It could make what you already dealing with because of Sonny’s problems—”

“Sonny is always going to be in trouble with the cops—”

“Well, yeah, now that he’s married to Carly, that’s a guarantee.” When Jason just sighed, Elizabeth made another face. “Are we not supposed to talk about that? Because we don’t have to. I know that’s…” A sensitive subject considering all that had happened over the last year. “Anyway — we could just not talk about any of it.”

“You mean, stop bringing up how you and Emily almost ended up dead,” Jason said, his expression bland. “She told me you were drugged by the same guy that kidnapped her.”

“She—Okay. She should not have told you that. It’s okay. I was safe—you’re getting that look again, and I’ll just agree that we should have gone to Sonny before you were home, and then absolutely to you. I promise.” She held up two fingers. “Scout’s Honor. The next time I’m in any kind of shady trouble, you’re my first call.”

“I know what that means, and there’s no way you were ever a Girl Scout,” Jason said.

She grinned. “Okay, you caught me, but I have learned my lesson. We leave the dangerous stuff to you. Now—” Elizabeth folded her arms, leaned over the counter. “How long do we get to keep you around?”

Luke’s: Bar

Lucky set a box of liquor bottles on the top of the bar with a grunt. “That’s the last one in the back.”

“Can’t be—” His father flicked back another sheet on the clipboard in his hand. “Damn it. This is why you don’t leave idiots in charge.” Luke slapped it against Lucky’s chest. “Go double check Claude’s work so I can fire him when he gets in tonight.”

“You know, I don’t actually work for you,” Lucky said. “Make Claude do it—”

Luke scowled. “Everything has to be an argument with you—you asked to pick up a few hours—”

“Am I interrupting?”

The father and son turned to find Sonny Corinthos strolling towards them, his jacket over one arm. “Is this a bad time?” he asked again.

“Depends on if you and yours are planning to get my son wrapped up in another cop’s murder,” Luke replied.

“Well, if your son would just pick up a phone the next time his friend wakes up next to a dead body, we could avoid this whole mess,” Sonny said, smiling pleasantly, but his eyes flashed with irritation. “Any reason I didn’t get looped in even after you knew drugs were involved? Or after your girlfriend was slipped a roofie?”

Luke scowled, looked back at Lucky who dropped his gaze. “What the hell is he talking about?”

“Nothing. We were handling it,” Lucky muttered.

“Handling it? The way Jason tells it, if he hadn’t shown up, we’d be looking for another woman up in Canada,” Sonny retorted.

“You think I needed Jason to save the day? I had it under control,” Lucky retorted, taking a step towards Sonny, his chest puffed out. “He wanted to play hero so Elizabeth would be impressed.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll tell him the next time Elizabeth has a gun to her head, he should wait for you to finish negotiating,” Sonny said dryly.

“Go do inventory,” Luke told Lucky. “Or maybe we’ll fill your mother in on what you and your friends were up to—”

“I’m not a child. And you can’t tell me what to do. I was handling it.” Lucky slapped at the clipboard against his father’s chest. “I’ll find another job.”

Luke didn’t argue with him, just watched him storm out of the bar, then turned his attention back to Sonny. “I taught him better than that. You solve the problems you can on your own, and when you can’t you tap out. Dragging Elizabeth up there, no weapons, could have gotten them both killed.”

“One phone call to me, Luke, Elizabeth and Emily are out of this months ago, and I’d be that much closer to dealing with Sorel.” Sonny shook his head, then sighed. “I didn’t come here to fight, believe it or not.”

“No, but Lucky doesn’t need much inspiration these days. His temper—it’s always been easy to trigger, but ever since—” Luke opened the box of liquor Lucky had left on the bar, started to count out the bottles. “Ever since he came back, it’s been worse. I thought maybe when we snapped that old bitch’s hold on him last week, we’d start to see some improvement, but he just stopped spouting off that bullshit about Nikolas and Elizabeth.”

“You sure it’s, uh, all gone—” Sonny made a gesture with his fingers. “How can you really know?”

“I guess you can’t. And maybe it was too easy to end it,” Luke said. He let that thought sit for a moment — it was the first time he’d really confronted the possibility that the nightmare his family had faced with Lucky’s kidnapping and return might still not be at an end. “Why did you come in?”

“Wanted to make sure we’re, ah, okay. This thing with Smith — it’s brought the Sorel stuff to a head, and your place is on the border,” Sonny said. “I’m not as involved here as I used to be, and I’m not saying I wanna buy back my part—but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we made it clear who’s side you’re on.”

“My side,” Luke told him. “That’s the only side I care about.” He stopped. “But my side includes my people, and Sorel was a little too interested in Elizabeth last winter. You think he’s forgotten about her?”

“He was only interested in her because of Jason—” Sonny stopped. “And he’s going to be around. They’re still friends, you know. Is Lucky going to have an issue if I have one of my guys around, maybe at the diner or here? Keeping an eye on her?”

Luke lifted his brows. “Why would he care?”

“Were you listening?” Sonny demanded. “He feels threatened by Jason. Probably heard all those rumors last year and half believes them—”

“Rumors.” Luke snorted, shook his head. “Okay. Yeah, I know Elizabeth was looking after him because he got shot. But those rumors weren’t all smoke, Sonny. Were they?”

Sonny hesitated, then stroked his chin. “The worst of them were,” he said slowly. “She was looking after him because he got shot, and they fell into that cover story because Nikolas Cassadine has a big mouth. But yeah, I kind of think maybe it was something for a minute. But he left town. And Lucky came home. That’s done.”

Lucky came home. Luke looked back towards the entrance, then at Sonny. “Sure. Yeah. That’s over. Look, I don’t want to be on the front lines, but you know I’m with you. Sorel’s garbage. Eliminate him and take the territory. Let’s be done with this.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

 

Every muscle in her body was screaming by the time the lunch rush thinned,  and Elizabeth eagerly snagged the bowl of chili she’d ordered for lunch and took one of the empty tables. She stretched out her feet, wiggling her toes inside her sneakers hoping to jolt some life back into them.

The bell over the door jingled when the spoon was halfway to her mouth, and Elizabeth nearly moaned in frustration which quickly melted to relief at the familiar sight of Chloe Morgan, the vivacious blonde who shared office space with Ned at L & B Records where Elizabeth had worked over the summer.

“Just the girl I wanted to see!” Chloe practically danced towards her, her eyes sparkling. She gestured at the chair across the table. “Do you mind?”

“As long as I don’t have to get up and can eat my lunch, sure.”

“No, of course, enjoy your lunch. This won’t take very long.” Chloe sat down, crossed her legs at the ankle. “I heard what happened last week! I’m so glad you and Emily are safe.”

Elizabeth hesitated, wondering if she was about to be gently reminded how reckless she’d been, but decided Chloe wouldn’t be the type to bother with that. “So am I.”

“Anyway, let me get straight to the point because you’re busy. My assistant, Lottie, is having her first child, and I am just so over the moon for her. She’s going to be on maternity leave in the next few weeks, and she’ll be gone for six months. I need someone temporary who’s quick on her feet, smart, and easy to work with. Ned suggested you, and I thought that was a brilliant idea since I know you’re an artist. It would be such a wonderful bonus to have someone who could sketch at my side.”

Elizabeth blinked at her. “What?”

“I know you’re thinking that you don’t know anything about the fashion business, but that’s my job! You’d just need to be my right hand, and keep track of details because I’m terrible it, and dash off sketches when I’m thinking out loud—I pay very well, and we’ll be traveling a lot, especially into the spring with the new lines premiering.”

“Traveling?” Elizabeth perked up. “What kind of traveling?”

“London, primarily. At first, and then, oh Paris for Fashion Week, and then New York for the Met Gala. And of course, Rome! Oh, it’ll be so much fun. You have a passport, don’t you?”

“I—I do not. I could get one. I can absolutely get one. I’ll start on that right away—Chloe, this—” She stopped, bit her lip. “But I can’t leave Tammy just yet. I’m only part-time, but—”

“Oh, of course—” Chloe waved her away. “You’ll give her notice, and Lottie isn’t leaving for three more weeks. You can shadow her when you’re not working here, and jump right in. You just get started on that passport. This is going to be amazing. You won’t regret it for a minute!”

May 27, 2026

This entry is part 109 of 113 in the Flash: You're Not Sorry

Written 76 minutes. I got distracted by the Phillies game and my king Cristopher Sanchez setting a new franchise record, let’s goooooo.


Thursday, October 3, 2024

Temporary FBI Headquarters: Conference Room

Reynolds slammed the door so hard that the frame and wall shook. Unfazed, Gia removed her reading glasses and rose to her feet. “Noah. You seem upset.”

“You have no authority to order the arrest of someone in my case. Pack your bags, you conniving bitch—”

Gia crossed her arms, arched a brow. “You’ll want to watch your tone when you speak to me, Noah. You’re not the one with the leverage in the room.”

“What the hell are you talking about—you lied your way into my case, sabotaged it—”

“Did I? Check the record, Noah. I told you that I lived here. I told you that I knew the players. My connection to Carly Corinthos and Nikolas Cassadine was a matter of public record. You knew my brother worked here for a time, that his family was here. You’re going to have hard time arguing that I’ve done anything wrong—”

“You know the goddamn suspect—”

“Still not an ethical violation. Diane Miller could have made it an issue. She chose not. I imagine she tucked it in her back pocket if she thought things were going south, but she chose to sit back and watch how I played it—”

“Because you were on her damn side—”

“I’m on the side of the truth. Where are you?” she demanded. She strode out from behind the table. “A detective from the PCPD suggested I go back over the case file — the one that they put together. And all the problems I’ve put on record with you were in their notes. They eliminated Morgan the day of the murder, and Elizabeth Webber was never a suspect. They investigated the tip, determined it was a red herring meant to distract them — and you and Caldwell leapt on it like a dog with a bone because you thought you could get back at Jason Morgan—”

“Everything I’ve done has been strictly by the book—”

“You were willing to walk into that court and argue a theory of the crime you knew was bullshit. You knew Elizabeth didn’t have enough time to get to the murder scene. You knew that her alibi was rock solid because why would someone with Michael Corinthos’s background ever call the police so close to the time of the crime—and you never bothered to investigate him. At all. You went after a woman and a pair of teenagers because you thought they’d break under the pressure and hand you Jason Morgan.”

“You think you have all the answers—”

“I think I’ve got Sonny’s daughter on camera planting the gun in Webber’s car.” She picked up the folder, flipped it open and sent it flying across the table. “You know what I found when I looked through the files from Cates’ computer? Records of a wiretap you filed for.” Gia lifted her brows. “Isn’t that strange? You have Sonny’s restaurant under surveillance, cameras and audio inside the building. And a federal judge signed off. Caldwell was stunned that you hadn’t turned any of that over. Because guess what I found?”

She tossed another photo — Kristina in Sonny’s office removing the gun and putting it in the safe. “That’s the gun from Sonny’s safe. She took it two days before Cates was murdered. That’s the same box the gun was found in. The same box in Elizabeth’s car.”

Reynolds faltered at this, picked up the photos, stared at the timestamps. “I didn’t—I didn’t know—”

“Because you didn’t turn over the wiretap to Caldwell. Who was supposed to take on Cates’ case after the fact.” Gia went back to her paperwork. “I had questions about that, but that would have been enough to get him on my side. He looked at it, and he’s the one that ordered Kristina to be placed under arrest. The PCPD filed suit with their own charges. Do you know what I’ve been doing this entire time, Noah?”

“Gia—” His tone had shifted completely, and he set the photos down. “All right, let’s have a conversation—”

“The warrants you filed with the court for this surveillance.” She tossed it at him. “Informant statements filled with garbage. Jason Morgan was never Cates’ informant. Not after Pikeman. It was just one more thing he lied about. All of that was on his computer.”

“I didn’t—” Now he looked ashen and had to sit down, staring at the photo of Kristina with the gun in Sonny’s office. “I didn’t know that.”

“I’ll concede you probably trusted him enough to file on his say so,” Gia said. “But you dropped those charges against Kristina fast, didn’t you? And turned back to the murder case. You started talking about going after Morgan harder. Revoking Elizabeth’s bail, which you were sure would break her or those boys. Maybe make her desperate enough to say anything against Jason to get out, right? Because you knew the murder case was never getting past a jury.”

Noah scrubbed his hands down his face. “You need to understand—”

“You dragged that poor boy’s mistakes in court, and you did it even after you saw him sitting in the gallery. You can’t prove Elizabeth had anything to do with that incident other than be the owner of the home. But you wanted to put more and more pressure on her.” Gia leaned in, standing over him. “Here’s something I didn’t tell you, Noah, something that you might already picked up. Elizabeth Webber stays loyal until the bitter end. She was never, ever going to turn on Jason Morgan. And that’s why I thought she was covering for him. That’s why I got involved. Because I remember being a hypocritical bitch who loves to point fingers at people for their crimes, but she won’t look at the man in her bed, no matter who he is at the time. And I would have happily prosecuted her for that — if she did it.” Gia straightened. “But she didn’t. And neither did he.” She stabbed a finger at the photo. “And if you’d turned over that wiretap, you’d have known that weeks ago.”

“We can’t use those photos,” Noah said. He looked up at her. “Cates lied—”

“We can’t use them against Sonny, no. But we can use them against his daughter.” Gia pulled out a chair, sat down, and leaned back. “This is what is going to happen. Caldwell is eager to move on from this — he’ll admit he had tunnel vision and should have seen the red flags. He’ll keep his mouth shut about you keeping crucial information about his case to himself. He’s already started his part by arranging the arrest and the guard at the hospital.” She arched a brow. “You’ll keep your mouth shut about my lack of candor about the connection I had to Elizabeth, and I’ll do the same about what I found in the files. As far as anyone knows, we only just dug into the surveillance files on Cates’ computer and we’re going to inform Diane Miller that our evidence matches hers. You’ll drop the charges against Elizabeth and upgrade Kristina to murder.”

“It’s not that simple—”

“It is. Kristina doesn’t have an expectation of privacy in her father’s office. The wiretap being bullshit won’t matter. You can’t use it against Sonny, and Cates really screwed you there, didn’t he? He didn’t get anything you could use on Morgan, Elizabeth — but he got Sonny on tape talking about so many things—such a shame you’ll never be able to use them. That’s your punishment, Noah. For caring about your vendetta more than the truth.”

Noah glared at her. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Being right? Of course. And you won’t have to worry about seeing me around the office. I’ll submit my letter of resignation.” She sat back. “I have other plans for my future employment.”

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

“We can’t put it off any longer,” Willow said, folding her arms. “Drew, half the people in this house already know. She might overhear it—”

Drew was saved from having to respond by the doorbell. And then he saw who was on the other side. His expression immediately went blank. “Alexis.”

“I want to see my granddaughter.” Alexis strode past him, barely acknowledging his presence. “Willow? Where is she—”

“Alexis. I’m so sorry,” Willow said. She held out her hands, but Alexis ignored them, shook her head. “We were just talking about how to talk to Scout.”

“She doesn’t know yet—” Alexis whipped his head around, looked at Drew still at the entrance, the door now closed. “It’s been hours.”

“It’s not an easy piece of news to share,” Drew said. “I haven’t even said it outloud for myself—”

“Don’t pretend you give a damn now,” Alexis retorted. “You made a difficult situation nearly unbearable—” She stabbed a finger at him. “If you’d left Scout in her mother’s custody, all of this would be different—”

“I had no choice—”

“Danny was out of the home, damn it. And so was Rocco. In fact, Rocco lives in this house now, doesn’t he?” Alexis bit out. “But no one is trying to take your child away, are they? You wanted the optics of being a good parent, and you didn’t care about actually being one.”

“Alexis—”

“Don’t try to defend him,” Alexis snapped at Willow who closed her mouth immediately. “If Sam had had her daughter in the home, she would have been home with her—”

“You mean, if Sam hadn’t lost custody of both her children, Kristina might not have felt it necessary to try to screw with Elizabeth’s bail,” Drew interrupted coldly, and Alexis pressed her lips together. “Let’s rewind here, Alexis. I didn’t kidnap my daughter away in the middle of the night. I put the facts in front of a judge, just like Jason did. A judge determined that Sam was acting irrationally and that the children weren’t safe with her. Now, I’m not going to pretend I couldn’t have done things differently,” Drew added. “I was too harsh. Too unforgiving. And Sam deserved better than that. But I didn’t do this alone, Alexis. And Kristina still chose to interfere.”

“You could debate who bears the burden of guilt until the sun sets,” Willow said before Alexis could respond. “But it doesn’t change anything, Alexis. There’s a little girl upstairs who has had her entire world upended in the last few weeks, and she doesn’t even know that she’ll never see her mother again. That needs to be the priority here. Not pointing the finger.”

“I can’t turn back time, Alexis,” Drew said, his tone gentled, and Alexis closed her eyes. “Neither can you. How many choices are you going over in your head, all the little things you said or did that put you on the road to this day? Willow’s right. Scout comes first. Danny comes first.”

“They need to be together. Scout is going to want her brother,” Willow said, looking at Drew. “So you’re done forbidding him access. He needs his family around him, Drew. And so does she.”

“Of course.” Drew touched Willow’s shoulder, then looked at Alexis. “Absolutely. Whatever Scout needs. Whatever you need to get through this. I’m glad you’re here with me. Scout will find a great deal of comfort in your presence.”

“I find everything you say to be so incredibly condescending and obsequious—” Alexis put out  her hands. “I actually feel nauseous being in the same room with you. Let’s just get this over with.”

General Hospital: ICU

Kristina turned her head slightly, her lashes fluttering against her pale skin. They opened, her dark eyes unfocused as Sonny came into view. “D-Dad.”

“Hey, sweetie. Just relax. You were in an accident.” Sonny stroked her forehead. “Rest. Don’t worry about anything.”

Kristina closed her eyes, her mouth going slack, indicating she’d drifted back into sleep, and Sonny exhaled slowly, rubbing his chest.

“Don’t worry about anything. What a joke.”

The words, delivered in a tone so acidic that he half-expected the floor to dissolve beneath his  feet, came from behind him, and Sonny turned to find Molly in the doorway, her arms tightly folded, her eyes swollen and bloodshot.

“Molly—”

She put out a hand, and Sonny stopped. Hesitated. “Molly—”

“I’m on my way to the morgue,” Molly said flatly, and Sonny went still. “They pulled my sister’s dead body from the river, and they need an official identification.”

“I’m so sorry—”

“Kristina has never had to worry about anything, has she? Not really. Not without you or Mom to bail her out. Not without Jason or—” Molly’s voice faltered and she looked away,  her eyes glittering with tears. “Not without one of us to clean it up. Well, she should worry. Because she’s going to jail for the rest of her life. And if there’s any justice in this world, Sam will haunt her every waking moment. So you can hire her a lawyer, you can do whatever you want, Sonny, but I promise you this — I’ll be on the other side of the aisle, doing everything I can to make sure she pays for what she’s done.”

“I didn’t know—”

“I don’t believe you. I just don’t. You tell my mother if she participates in Kristina’s defense, if she lifts a finger to help the bitch who murdered my sister, I will never speak to her again.”

Sonny let Molly leave — there was nothing that could be said to her in this moment, no words of comfort or reassurance. Molly’s world had already been shattered with the death of her daughter, and all of this had cracked what little she’d attempted to rebuild.

He looked back at his daughter, at his little girl, and exhaled slowly. No easy answers. No clear way forward.

Webber House: Kitchen

“Thank you.” Michael accepted the coffee Jason handed him. “I think I have more caffeine than blood right now. I, uh, wanted to say—hey,” he said to Elizabeth who rejoined them in the kitchen, followed by Jake and Aiden. “How’s Danny?”

“Still in his room. I’m hoping Dante will be a comfort to him.” She touched Michael’s shoulder then started to make her own cup of coffee. “Have you slept?”

“No. I don’t really think anyone has.” Michael set the cup aside. “Look, I just wanted to apologize. Dante and I—on Tuesday, after the hearing, after he’d talked to Sam, we went over the whole thing, and he started to piece together that maybe Kristina was involved—with the email to the court,” he added hastily when Jason straightened, his expression turning cold. “Not the murder. I didn’t know Dante was suspecting that. He never said a word to me.”

“If he had?” Jake wanted to know. “Would you have still kept quiet?”

“Jake,” Jason began, but his son wasn’t interested in whatever Jason had to say.

“No, I want to know how many people knew Kristina was completely insane and said nothing,” Jake retorted.

Michael grimaced. “If I knew what Dante was thinking, I would have said so — maybe I would have asked Diane first—no, you asked a question, Jake. At least have the respect to listen to my answer. How easy it would it be to turn your brother in for murder?” he demanded. “If you knew he was up to bullshit—”

“You couldn’t even tell on Danny when you caught him with a vape,” Elizabeth reminded Jake gently. “It’s not easy—”

“Danny was being an asshole, sure, but he wasn’t hurting anyone but himself, was he? As soon as I realized how bad it was, I did say something–”

“You’re talking about the murder of an FBI agent,” Michael said. “Do you think it’s so easy to think something so terrible of my sister?”

Jake started to shake his head, but Aiden bumped his lightly. “What?”

“If someone came home and told you I killed someone,” Aiden said, “you gonna believe it? And hell, what if you did suspect it, if Cam suspected it, what are we doing first? I’m calling Cam. I’m going for help—”

“This wouldn’t happen to us,” Jake snapped, then leveled a glare at Michael. “Because yeah, my dad’s a criminal—sorry,” he added as aside to Jason, “—but no one ever raised us to think of murder as goddamn solution—”

“Jake.” Jason stepped forward, between the cousins. “That’s not fair—”

“No, he’s right,” Michael said, holding up a hand. “This wouldn’t happen to you or your brothers,” he said. “Your mother’s not perfect, no, but Elizabeth always made sure you three were the priority.”

“Michael—”

“My parents didn’t do that,” Michael said, cutting off Elizabeth’s protest. “Why do you think Jason had to practically raise me from over their shoulder? You think that I got any sense of morality  growing up with Sonny or Carly Corinthos? The first time I really started to fuck up and think that I was untouchable, your dad practically ripped my head off and told me I was acting like a little bitch. So, no, Jake, this wouldn’t happen to you or your brothers. But it happened to me. And my sister did this to your family. She did this to—” He looked at Jason who was already shaking his head. “She did this to my family. She did this to you, Jason. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it. That I didn’t stop it—”

“I’m not blaming you,” Jason said. “I’m not blaming anyone but Kristina,” he added, looking at his son. “And neither should you. No matter what you think they’re doing, it’s not easy to turn on family. Or to think the worst of them, Jake.”

“Also—” Aiden coughed lightly. “Cam did sort of think of murder as a solution that one time—” Jake whacked him in the stomach. “Right, right. Never mind.”

“Okay, I think we change the subject.” Elizabeth went to Jake, touched his shoulder. “Being angry is okay. This is an awful situation that just seems to get worse no matter we do, but we’re family, Jake. And Michael’s doing his best. Dante did his best. I’m not interested in vengeance.”

“I am—” Jake muttered, but lowered his gaze when Jason sent him an exasperated glance. “Okay. Fine. As long as your charges are dropped, and Kristina rots in hell, I guess we can let that be enough. But if she gets away with it—”

“We’ll deal with it as it comes. All I care about is that this nightmare is over, that my charges will go away, and we do everything we can to support your brother and Scout.”