Category Archives: Flash Fiction

September 2, 2020

This entry is part 1 of 18 in the Flash Fiction: Shot in the Dark

This is a direct sequel to the Flash Fiction series, Darkest Before the Dawn.

Written in 55 minutes. Time for a basic spell check but no for typos.

February 2013

Port Charles Park: Ice Rink

“Are you blind?” Elizabeth Webber shot to her feet, cupped her hands around her mouth — “Hey, Ref! Get your eyes checked!”
“
“That’s crap!” Patrick Drake shouted from her side, dragging his hand through his slightly shaggy dark hair.

Sitting next to them, Jason Morgan just frowned, then looked at the rest of the parents in the stand—who were all on their feet, screaming obscenities that were a lot worse than Patrick and Elizabeth.

“She doesn’t look like she’d be a crazy sports mom, does she?” Laura Spencer mused as she picked up her grandson, two-year-old Aiden Webber, and cuddled him in her lap. “I’ll talk to Spencer about trying to decapitate Cameron. I promise.”

“He’s just mad that Emma made Cameron a nicer card for Valentine’s Day,” Elizabeth muttered as she sat back down. “And he keeps calling Cam a townie—”

“He likes to ignore the fact that he lives in town now, too,” Laura said dryly. “We’re working on it—” She winced as Spencer’s skates slid out from underneath him, and the eight-year-old started to slide across the ice. “Oh, no—”

“He’s back up,” Jason said, reassuring her. He winced as Spencer Cassadine got back to his feet, unsteadily, and started to skate in Cameron’s direction.

“I wear to God if that referee calls one more foul on my kid,” Elizabeth said, her teeth clenched. “And—hey!” She lunged to her feet again as Spencer bypassed Cameron and headed for Emma Scorpio-Drake.

“Oh, I know he’s not going after my kid!” Patrick said with a scowl.

“They know they’re talking about kids, right?” Jason asked Laura a bit dubiously. This was a side of Elizabeth he’d never seen before — but maybe it shouldn’t surprise him. She’d always been fiercely loyal to the people she loved and there was no one she loved more than her boys. It made sense it would translate to supporting them in sports, but this—

He found himself grinning as the referee managed to grab the back of Spencer’s uniform before he was able to finish swiping out with his stick towards Emma. Patrick’s daughter turned, narrowed her eyes, and launched herself at the Cassadine — the two kids hit the ice and started rolling around, shoving each other.

“Just like her mother,” Jason said, with a slow exhale. Robin had never taken shit from anyone, and he knew from experience she could throw a punch.

Elizabeth heard him, then smiled at him. “Yeah, Robin taught Emma how to defend herself. But—”

“There it is,” Laura said with a sigh, as Cameron launched himself on the two of them, dragging Spencer away from Emma, and the irritated umpire ejected all three of them. “I guess we’d better go get them.”

“I’m buying Emma all the ice cream she wants,” Patrick told Elizabeth as they trooped down from the stands and headed over to pick up their kids. It wasn’t the first game that the trio had been thrown out of, and they were used to the routine by now.

It was Jason’s first time making it to one of the games, and while he’d heard about the bitter rivalry, it was something to see the eight-year-olds all trying to kill each other. They could probably hold their own against Carly in her heyday.

“You know, Cameron told me that Joss gave him a Valentine,” Elizabeth said, as if reading Jason’s thoughts. She took Aiden from Laura and grinned at him. “I think that’s going to complicate things.”

Jason winced. “Oh, man. Joss takes after her mother, so—”

“It’s not my fault,” Emma said immediately as the adults reached them. Standing next to them was their beleaguered coach who was not having a great day.

“Mrs. Spencer,” Dustin Phillips said, with a sigh to Laura. “We’ve talked about Spencer’s sportsmanship—”

Spencer gasped. “He attacked me!” He jabbed a finger at Cameron who stuck his tongue out at his cousin. “You—you—you townie!” Spencer launched himself at Cameron all over again and would have reached him if Jason hadn’t waded in and grabbed Laura’s grandson — Elizabeth got her son, and they dragged them apart again.

“We’re working on it,” Laura said. “But in my defense, I told the league not to put them on the same team.”

“One more ejection, and I’m cutting all three of them,” Dustin said. He went back to the kids still playing.

“You’re ruining it for all of us!” Emma screaming, stomping her foot at Spencer. Her cheek was cut. “And you’re the townie, you dink!”

“I am not a townie! I live on an island!”

“You live on Charles Street you—” Emma went after him, intending to deliver a kick to the shins, but Patrick grabbed his daughter.

“Well, this has been fun,” he said dryly. “But I’ll take my kid home before she does anymore damage.”

“It’s not fair, Dad!” Emma complained as the Drakes walked towards their car. “He’s such a brat!”

Spencer glared at Cameron with an utter look of loathing that might have worried Jason if he wasn’t eight. “You turned her against me!”

“All right, all right—that’s enough!” Laura snapped. She grabbed Spencer’s shoulder and shook him slightly. “You went after that girl on the ice, Spencer Cassadine! And you tried to hit your cousin—”

“He is not my cousin!” Spencer wiped his nose, then glared at Cameron. “Uncle Lucky said you’re just a bastard—”

“Shut up!” Cameron roared, and then he was airborne, tackling Spencer to the gravel parking lot, then punched him square in the face before Jason was able to grab him, lifting him in the air, still kicking wildly.

“I’ll kill him! Let me kill him!”

Shaken slightly, Laura pulled her grandson to his feet, looking at Elizabeth with a blank expression. “I—”

“We should go,” Elizabeth said, tightly, sliding a hand down Aiden’s back as the toddler started to cry. Jason put Cameron on the ground, but kept an arm around his shoulders, holding him back.

“I think that’s a good idea. I’ll—I’ll talk to him.” Laura leaned forward to kiss Aiden’s cheek, then tried to hug Cameron, but he turned his face away from her. “I love you, baby,” she murmured, brushing his hair back. “I’ll call you,” she told Elizabeth, before taking Spencer’s hand and dragging him away.

“I want to go home,” Cameron said, flatly. He shrugged away from Jason and stalked towards their car.

Webber Home: Hallway

“Hey.” Jason touched the small of Elizabeth’s back as she left Aiden’s room, switching on the night light and closing the door. “Why don’t you let me put Cameron to bed?”

“I—” Elizabeth sighed, looked down the hallway towards her oldest’s room. “I don’t know. You think that’s a good idea? I mean—God, if Spencer’s right—I can’t believe—” Distressed, she looked away, swiping at her eyes.

“You’re still upset,” Jason told her. “And you know Cameron doesn’t like to see you cry. I’ll talk to him, and see if he’s up to talking tonight. Otherwise, it might be better if we gave him some space.”

“All right.” She clenched her hand in his shirt briefly before releasing it. “I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me.”

He kissed her forehead, and they separated. He waited to hear their bedroom door click shut before he knocked on Cameron’s door.

“I don’t need to be tucked in. Go away.”

“I just wanted to say good night,” Jason said. “Can I come in for a minute?”

“Jason?” There was a sigh. “Fine.”

Jason pushed open the door, then went inside the room to find Cameron sitting up in his bed, already dressed in his Captain America pajamas. He eyed Jason suspiciously. “Why are you here and not my Mom?”

“I can go get her,” Jason offered, closing the door, then leaning against it.”

Cameron shrugged a shoulder, then stared at his blanket. “It’s fine,” he said dully. “Spencer is a doofus. I know that.”

“He doesn’t seem like a nice kid,” Jason agreed.

“And I don’t care what Lucky says about me,” Cameron said in a small voice. “He’s not my dad. I know that. He doesn’t want me. He only calls Aiden. And he never comes to see him either. I don’t care—” His voice trembled slightly.

Jason stepped forward, perched on the edge of the bed. “It’s okay to be hurt,” he said softly. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting it.”

“I don’t need him,” Cameron said. He looked up, his blue eyes burning into Jason’s. “My mom is best mom ever. She’s all I need. I don’t need Lucky. I don’t need you either.”

“Okay.”

Cameron looked away, then a tear slid down his cheek. Then another. “I miss Jake.”

Jason exhaled on a shaky breath. Cameron didn’t often talk about his little brother, and he and Elizabeth were both careful not to reminisce about him often around the boys. “I do, too.”

“You were his real dad, weren’t you?”

“I—I was,” Jason admitted.

Cameron swiped his hand under his nose. “My real dad is dead. Spencer said his dad said my dad was a bad person. Was he? Did you know him?”

“I did know him,” Jason said carefully. “And Zander was…he knew how to get himself into trouble. But I know your mother liked him. And my sister—Aunt Emily—she loved him. She was married to him for a little while. He wasn’t all bad, Cameron. He just didn’t make a lot of good choices.”

“Mom says I have to be nice to Spencer because his dad just dumped on him Grandma Laura, and she didn’t want him stuck in boarding school. His mom is dead. And his dad doesn’t want him. So I guess—I mean—” Cameron sighed. “I’d be really mad at everyone if my mom dumped me on someone.”

“It sounds like a tough situation.”

“But my mom would never do that,” Cameron told Jason. “Never.”

“No, your mom would walk through fire for you. And your brothers.” Had walked through fire, Jason remembered.

“I’m sorry I said I don’t need you,” Cameron muttered. “I like that you live here now. Christmas was more fun this year.” He peeked up at Jason. “Mom smiles a lot now. More than since Jake died. Last year was hard.”

“I’m glad we’re together. I love your mother. And I love you and your brother,” Jason told him.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” Cameron cleared his throat. “I mean, you and my mom—you’re gonna marry her, right? I don’t want her to cry again.”

“That’s something your mom and I have talked about,” Jason told him. “But I’m not going anywhere. There’s no where I’d rather be.”

“Okay.” Cameron nodded. “Okay. I’m okay,” he said, and this time it sounded like he meant it. “Tell mom I’m okay. She was right. Spencer is awful, but I think—I know what it’s like for a dad to dump you. And if my mom were gone—if I never knew her—man, that would suck.”

Cameron had his mother’s soft heart and kindness — with Zander’s recklessness. God help the world, Jason thought as he helped the eight-year-old climb under the blankets.

“Hey, Jason?” Cameron asked as Jason switched off the lamp on the night stand.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“You promise you’re not leaving?”

“I promise.” Jason ruffled his blonde hair, then Cameron grinned, turned over, and closed his eyes. “Good night, buddy.”

“Night, Jason.”

Elizabeth was pacing when Jason went into their room, biting the nail of her thumb as she walked from the window to the end of the bed, before turning around and starting again. At Jason’s entrance, she whirled around.

“Is he okay? Does he need me?”

“He’s fine. He’s probably already asleep.” Jason rubbed his hands down her arms. “By the time I left, he’d already reminded himself that Spencer has it pretty rough right now — and Cameron says he knows how it feels to have a dad dump him, and how much worse it would be not to have his mom.”

Elizabeth groaned, then let her head drop against his chest. “Oh, God. I tried so hard not to let Cameron feel Lucky’s leaving like this. Lucky was already not doing much with the boys by the time he left the country—but he never calls Cameron—”

“He doesn’t blame you,” Jason assured her. “In fact, you’re the only person in the world he does believe in one hundred percent, so you’re doing something right.”

“Something,” Elizabeth muttered. She sighed, pulled away from him, then sat on the bed. “You’re sure he’s okay?”

“Yeah. He was mad at first, but he’s okay. He’s a good kid, Elizabeth. A good kid who’s asking questions about Zander, by the way. Apparently, Spencer also told him Nikolas said Zander was a bad person—”

“I could really kill the two of them right now,” Elizabeth snarled. “Talking like that in front of Spencer—What were they thinking? I liked it better when they hated each other—” She dragged a hand through her hair. “What did you say?”

“That Zander wasn’t a bad person. He just didn’t make great choices. That you liked him. That Emily loved him.” Jason hesitated. “Cameron seemed worried I might leave.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked at him. “Oh. Well, I guess—I mean, you only moved in a few weeks ago. Maybe we rushed it. Did we rush it?” She chewed on her lip. “I just—I want so bad to be a better mom than I had, but I think I keep messing it up—”

“You’re an amazing mother,” Jason told her. “And Cameron would be the first to tell you that. No, I think he’s just been through a lot. Losing Jake. Then Lucky moving away — me moving in. It’s been a lot.”

“Right.” Elizabeth frowned. “We’re not going to have this fight again, are we?”

“No,” Jason said. “I asked you to marry me. And you wanted time. This was a compromise. And we didn’t fight the last time,” he reminded her. “But I’m in this. For good.”

“Jason—”

“It’s okay that you don’t believe me yet,” Jason said. “But this is what I want. You and the boys. It’s all I ever wanted. When we talked about getting married four years ago, one of the things I wanted to do was adopt Cameron.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her eyes widening. “Jason—”

“I know Aiden—I know Aiden has a relationship with Lucky, and I don’t want to mess that up. And if you think it’s not a good idea—”

“You want to adopt Cameron?”

“I’ve always loved him,” Jason told her. “Because he was yours. And then because he’s Cameron. Lucky had the chance to be his father—he doesn’t want it. I do. I can’t—it’s not about making up for not being there for Jake.”

“I didn’t say it was—”

“It’s about this life we’re building together.”

“I’d—” She hesitated. “I want to talk to Cameron about it. But, Jason—” She leaned forward, kissed him, fisting her hand in his shirt. “I love you. For wanting it.”

“I love you, too.”

August 31, 2020

This entry is part 1 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

This story is set in 2002, beginning in late October. Elizabeth left the penthouse on October 8, the blonde who shall not be named kissed Jason on the 19 (around that date), and five days later, Jason married Brenda in Vegas. While Jason was juggling the blonde and Brenda, Elizabeth was hanging out with Lucky, dressing in leather, and springing Luke from a chain gang in the South. It was a strange time (but fun! It was great to see Elizabeth on a caper). In any case, this story keeps Elizabeth in Port Charles and begins after the blonde attacked Jason with her lips. (I’m sorry, I’m feeling salty.)

Written in 51 minutes. Had time to run a basic spellcheck, but didn’t read for typos.

October 2002

Kelly’s: Kitchen

Elizabeth Webber often wondered who she’d murdered in a previous life to deserve the existence she was currently living.

In fact, to deserve this specific moment — Elizabeth Imogene Webber must have been a vicious serial killer.

“I’m really sorry,” Courtney Quartermaine said with a wrinkle of her nose and a flash of sympathy in her baby blue eyes. She set down the tub of dirty dishes on the counter in the kitchen of Kelly’s. “It just happened.”

She’d decided that while closing the diner where they both worked and cleaning things up in the back, that it was time she opened her heart and was honest with Elizabeth. After all — Courtney didn’t want things to be awkward.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, turned away from the sink, and studied the other waitress, a woman she’d considered a friend. Not a close friend — but Courtney had been more than an acquaintance. A friendly face.

“Explain it to me again,” Elizabeth said coolly. She folded her arms, leaned against the counter. “Like I’m a five-year-old.”

Courtney winced. “I really—I think I covered it. I know you’re upset because you thought you were dating him—”

“Thought?” Elizabeth repeated, with a lift of her brows. Oh, man, was this chick lucky that the butcher block full of knives was across the kitchen. “I thought I was dating him? Yeah, you’re going to need to start at the beginning.”

Courtney bit her lip. “It was just—all that time we spent together, you know? I mean, you know how sweet he is—”

Might be worth making a leap for one of those knives after all.

“And with this stalking thing going on, I really needed to feel safe. Jason makes me feel safe—”

“So does a golden retriever,” Elizabeth bit out, even as she heard her own feelings, her own thoughts echoed back at her. “He was guarding you. Because Sonny wanted him to. You’re married.”

“I know. And that’s why it’s wrong. And why I really didn’t intend for anything to happen—”

Against her better judgment, Elizabeth’s heart began to beat faster, her pulse throbbing in her wrist. “But it did.”

“A few days ago. That’s why I had to tell you. Because I know you were upset after everything that happened,” Courtney said, widening her eyes. “But you have to see now — it’s obvious that Jason was just being nice—”

“Being nice to who?” Elizabeth asked, her voice flat. If Courtney had known her for long, she’d have heard the sound of a woman who was not in the damn mood.

“To you,” Courtney continued. “I mean, you were dating Zander for a while and he hated Zander, so maybe Jason just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I mean, you know how much he hates hurting people.”

“No, tell me more how Jason Morgan hates to hurt people.” Elizabeth fluttered her lashes. “I’m dying to hear your analysis of the man who works for your brother and that you’ve known for ten minutes. This is fascinating.”

Courtney scowled. “I’m trying to be nice—”

“You’re not very good at it,” Elizabeth retorted, even as Courtney’s words sunk in. She had been sort of seeing Zander for a hot minute in early August, and she did know how much that had hurt Jason.

She’d thought they were past it. She’d thought he’d forgiven her—not that she needed to be forgiven as they weren’t dating.

But—had they been dating at all? Or was Courtney right? Was it all in her head?

“What happened a few days ago?” Elizabeth asked with a sigh. Might as well rip off the bandage and let the air hit the wound.

“He kissed me,” Courtney confessed, her voice small and a bit ashamed. “I don’t know what to do. I love my husband—”

“I am not the one—” Elizabeth put a hand up in front her, then curled it into a fist. “He kissed you. A few days ago,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth nodded. “Okay. Well, that’s—that’s just—” She cleared her throat. “Listen. Thank you. For telling me. Good luck with your marriage and your affair. I’ll finish cleaning up. Go home.”

“Oh, no, Elizabeth, let me—”

“Go home, Courtney,” Elizabeth snapped. She whirled around, a box cutter in her hand. “Or I swear to God, I am going to hold you down and cut your fucking blonde hair off!”

Courtney actually squealed, jumped back, hitting the counter in the kitchen. “Elizabeth—”

Elizabeth made a jabbing motion with the knife, and Courtney rushed out of the kitchen, barely stopping to grab her coat and purse before slamming the door behind her, the little bell above it jangling.

“I wonder if I would have done it,” Elizabeth muttered. She tossed the knife aside, put both hands on the counter, then closed her eyes.

He’d kissed her.

Logically, it shouldn’t hurt this way. It absolutely shouldn’t. Elizabeth had walked out of the penthouse, tossing some cruel and angry words at him in her wake—then shut him down the one time he’d come after to talk.

Elizabeth had needed more than twenty-four hours, but instead of just telling him like a grown up that she needed a minute, she’d lashed out and slashed at him.

“Okay. Okay.” She dragged her hands through her hair, took a deep breath. “Okay,” she repeated. “This is—this is good. This is good. I needed this. I needed to know. And now I know. He’s moving on.”

Elizabeth finished stacking the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, shoving it from her mind, desperate to stop thinking about it. To stop wondering exactly when she’d ruined everything — when she’d slept with Zander? When she’d asked him not to hurt Zander?

When she’d left the penthouse? Here, the next day, at Kelly’s?

When had Jason stopped caring—

And when had he started caring about Courtney—

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, looked around the diner. The tables were clear, the chairs neatly stacked. She was done. It was time to go home.

Home to an empty studio with crappy heating.

“You know,” Elizabeth said to no one at all—just a crazy idiot standing in the middle of an empty diner. “It would be nice just once to lose out to anyone other than a fucking blonde. Another dumb blonde.”

She dragged on her coat, looped her purse over her shoulder and left the diner, clocking the door behind her.

“A fucking blonde,” she muttered as she started towards the waterfront. The air was cold, but Elizabeth didn’t want to go home just yet. Maybe a walk on the docks would clear her mind.

Maybe she hadn’t been just a serial killer in a previous life, Elizabeth thought idly as she stepped down towards Elm Street Pier. Maybe she’d killed bunnies or something. Or puppies.

Yeah, a puppy killer definitely deserved her life.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny Corinthos stifled a yawn as he snatched up the phone ringing off the hook in the living room. “Damn it, who the hell—What?” he demanded.

“Sonny—” His wife, Carly, rubbed her eyes from the stairs, as she stepped off the landing. “Tell them to call in the morning—”

Sonny cupped his hand over the phone for a minute, scowling at her. “Go upstairs, Carly. I need to handle this.”

Carly scowled, but he waited until he heard her stomping back up the stairs—then waited for the door to slam.

Sonny turned his attention back to the phone, took a deep breath. “Can you repeat that one more time, Francis? Who the hell is going to Vegas?”

Port Charles Airport: Hangar B

Jason Morgan did not believe in karma. Carly did—Carly believed in all kinds of spiritual crazy stuff. She’d always wanted to read him horoscope — apparently, Jason was a Virgo, whatever the hell that was.

And karma was Carly’s current favorite belief. “You get what you put into the world, Jase,” she’d told him a few months ago just after she’d married Sonny for what was probably the third time—but it might have been the fourth.

It was hard to tell sometimes.

If Carly was right—if you got what you put into the world—

Then Jason was getting exactly what he deserved.

“How much longer do we have to wait?” the brunette at his side snapped as she shifted from one foot to another. “I’m tired, and I just want this over with.”

“I told you. We have to wait until the pilot files the flight plan,” Jason said blandly. He rubbed the back of his neck, and looked towards the private jet. “You getting cold feet?”

Brenda Barrett snorted. “No. That’s not me. I don’t get cold feet. That’s you and your boss.” She folded her arms. “It’s freezing.”

“Then go inside.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to care about my well-being—”

“Not until the paperwork is signed,” he muttered.

“Look, if you’re having second thoughts,” Brenda said with huff, “then have them here. Before we get on a plane and haul our asses to Vegas—”

“I’m not—” Jason shook his head. He was way past second thoughts and onto fifth thoughts. “I’m trying to retrace my steps to figure out how exactly I ended up here. At midnight. With you.”

Brenda pursed her lips. “Well, it started with me coming to your penthouse and threatening to break up Sonny and Carly’s marriage—you really need to work on your priorities by the way. You’re sacrificing your happiness so Carly can be happy. I mean—don’t you have a life?”

“I used to,” Jason said. He rubbed the side of his face. He thought he had. But there wasn’t anything left for him. Not after the last few weeks. After the last few days. He’d just been minding his own business, standing in the rain, and then Courtney had just—

He had tried to be very nice about the whole thing—and she’d left immediately afterwards. Jason had gone to Sonny, told him very nicely that he had other things that needed to be done and Courtney needed an actual guard.

Sonny had looked at him suspiciously, but had agreed. And then Jason had found Brenda in his penthouse. Sitting on his sofa, looking at the yellow knitted blanket Elizabeth had left behind.

What was the point of worrying about his future? The only woman he was interested in wanted to set him on fire, and maybe if he weren’t single, Courtney Quartermaine would stay away from him. And Carly would be happy.

An unhappy Carly was a destroyer of worlds, which Jason knew all too well. No, this was for the best.

“Jason, I’m serious.” Brenda’s tone had shifted to something less bitchy, and more quiet. “You don’t remember this, but we were friends before your accident. And we were almost friends before you—” She cleared her throat and looked away.

Before he’d humiliated her at the altar for Sonny. “Brenda—”

“Do not do this if you’re having second thoughts. I wouldn’t really mess up Sonny’s marriage. Not on purpose,” she added. “I just—” Her voice sounded tight. “I don’t want to be alone when it gets bad. And I know Robin would take care of me. Or the Quartermaines. But they love me. I don’t want them to have to make decisions. I know why this is a good idea for me. But I need to know I’m not hurting you.”

Jason hesitated, looked away, towards the doorway of the hangar—towards the flickering lights of downtown Port Charles, where the waterfront lay beyond it. He wondered where Elizabeth was right now. Was she at her studio? Closing Kelly’s? Was she painting?

“Jason?”

Wherever she was, she’d left him. Again. And this time, Jason hadn’t seen any hint that she’d change her mind.

“You’re not hurting me, Brenda. And I want to help you,” Jason told her. Because that much, at least, wasn’t a lie. “Let me go check on the flight plan. See how much longer it’ll be.”

Pier 52

At some point, Elizabeth lost track of where she was walking — she’d only meant to walk along Elm Street Pier where it merged onto Bannister’s Wharf, but then she’d looked up and realized—

“Pier 52,” she muttered. The Corinthos-Morgan warehouse loomed at the end of the pier, construction cranes scattered around the parking lot as they worked to rebuild after the explosion in August.

Elizabeth idly touched her arm where a faint scar still rested. She’d thought of that night as a turning point. Standing outside the burning building, watching Jason and Zander fight—Zander with a gun—

The sound of the shot—the searing pain in her arm—

The way Jason had looked at her—asked her about Italy—she’d thought for a minute that she hadn’t broken everything between them.

But maybe Courtney was right. Maybe Elizabeth had finally burnt the final bridge with Zander, and Jason was just too kind to tell her. Had ignored her all those weeks in the penthouse, hoping she’d get the message.

No. No, that wasn’t fair. She sighed, and started to turn back, intending to head back up the pier, to Elm Street, and to her studio. It was stupid to be wandering out here this late in the dark, after midnight—

“What the hell were you thinking?”

The angry voices startled Elizabeth out of her maudlin wallowing, and she turned — but the voice wasn’t talking to her. Footsteps were getting closer, and without thinking, Elizabeth ducked behind a a pallet stacked with boxes and metal barrels.

“You had one job!” a man snarled—Elizabeth frowned—she knew that voice. Why did she know that voice?

“You were to keep your eyes on my property, and now she’s gone!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Alcazar—”

Oh….fuck. Elizabeth closed her eyes. Walked right into a scene between Luis Alcazar and a flunky.

What was worse than a puppy killer? Because surely—

A gunshot echoed in the night, and Elizabeth heard a thud and a cry — Then another shot—this one sounded closer — and the man’s cry stopped abruptly.

Elizabeth shoved a fist in her mouth, choking back the sound that wanted to leap from her throat. Oh, damn, damn, damn —

She started to inch backwards — she knew a back way to the waterfront, one that would take longer — but was hidden —

Just as Elizabeth was a few feet from safety, from freedom — she tripped over a nail jutting out from a board and hit the ground with a crash, her arm slapping against a building on the way down.

“Who’s there?” Alcazar demanded. “Who is that? Morgan?”

Elizabeth didn’t stop, didn’t even think. She leapt to her feet, turned, and ran for the shorter route to safety—even as Alcazar shot after her, bullets hitting the corrugated metal just inches from her head.

She only had one thought. One person who she knew she could trust.

She ran up the pier, up to Elm Street, then instead of taking the turn towards her studio, she turned towards the large building a few blocks away.

To Jason.

August 20, 2020

This entry is part 20 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 25 minutes. No time for typos. Took a little extra time to end it well.

Elizabeth knocked lightly on the door to Cameron’s bedroom and smiled at him. “Hey. You almost done packing?”

“Yeah, just a few more things.” Cameron looked around the room with a grimace. “I didn’t really finish unpacking,” he admitted.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She sat on his bed. “I know we’ve moved a lot this last year, but—”

“It’s okay, Mom.” Cameron sat next to her. “You feeling okay? Should you be moving around so much?” He drew his brows together. “You’ve only been out of the hospital for—”

“Three weeks. I just a have a slight twing in my side and I still get tired a lot.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “You don’t have to come today. You can relax here with the boys. Make sure they’re packed—”

“Grandma Laura has that covered,” Cameron said with a shake of his head. “I want to go. I mean—” He got to his feet and went over to his bureau to check the drawers again. “I guess I want to make sure she’s really going away.

“You found out a lot about Sam that day, Cam. And a lot about Jason and Drew. I know you’ve struggled with it—”

“Look, I get it—Jason’s a big part of your life, and I guess you’ll always feel guilty about Drew. But we don’t need them.” Cameron turned her, his blue eyes fierce. He lifted his chin. “I can take care of us. I can take care of you—” His voice cracked on the final word.

“I know you can. And it’s not about that. Did you know that I lied to Jason about being Jake’s father?” Elizabeth rose. “That I asked him the day he buried his father to keep lying? That after Emily died, we continued the lie?”

Cameron exhaled slowly. “No, I didn’t know that. Why—”

“Because I am not perfect, Cameron. I’ve made terrible mistakes. And so have Jason and Drew.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “And so has Sam. We’ve all paid for them with a little bit of our sanity and souls. But I don’t want that for you. Yes, Jason forgave the woman who kidnapped Jake. But I entered into a relationship with a serial killer who kidnapped Aiden. Why do my sins matter less?”

“Because you’re my mother.” Cameron looked away. “Jason never blinked when he found out it was Sam,” he admitted. “And maybe you were right. Maybe we could trust him. I just—” He met his mother’s eyes. “Are you really okay with her not going to jail?”

“She’s sick, Cam. And heartbroken. I can’t forgive her for what she put us through, but I can move on and let her get the help she needs. She’ll go to Ferncliffe, get treatment, and maybe one day come home to her kids.”

“It doesn’t seem fair. After everything we went through—you nearly died, Mom—”

“But I didn’t.” Elizabeth framed his face. “I love you, you know. My brave little boy. All grown up.”

“I love you, too. And I’m glad we’re going home.”

“Me, too. I’ll meet you downstairs when it’s time to go.”

——

Jason stood up from the bench in the hallway when he saw Elizabeth and Cameron step off the elevator. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come,” he said, surprised and a little relieved when Cameron met his eyes.

It was the first time Cam had looked at him since Elizabeth had been released from the hospital. “Sorry. We got carried away. The moving truck will be at the house tomorrow, and I wanted to make sure everything was ready,” Elizabeth said. She looked at Cameron. “I’m sure Joss and Trina are already inside if you want to get a seat.”

Cameron eyed them both suspiciously, then sent Jason a dark look before walking away, into the courtroom.

“Everything okay with the paperwork? Diane said—”

“Diane said you pulled in every favor and some of Sonny’s to get us into the house this quickly.” Elizabeth folded her arms, offered him a smile. “Thank you. The boys are excited to be going home. So am I. And Diane said there’s already been an offer on the place I’m at now, so I’ll be able to pay you back.”

When Jason opened her mouth, she shook her head. “Don’t argue. It’s important to me.” She looked to the court room. “Have you talked to Drew yet?”

“No. He’s been in the back with Sam, her lawyer, and the doctor assigned to her. Elizabeth—”

“I don’t want any more apologies. It’s over. And we’ve all made mistakes. Let’s just—let’s just get this over with. I want to get back to my life.”

She went into the courtroom, and Jason followed her, unsure where that left them or their friendship.

The hearing was little more than a formality. The court appointed doctor had found Sam incompetent to stand trials on charges of murder and attempted murder. She had a glassy-eyed look and swayed slightly as the judge committed her to Ferncliffe until a doctor found her competent.

Sam never looked behind her—not even at Drew. And when the hearing was over, she was led out of the room.

Cameron exhaled. “I think I expected something more,” he admitted.

“Well, it’s Port Charles,” Trina Robinson said, patting his shoulder. “There might still be a bomb.”

“Oh, that is not funny,” Joss muttered as she followed the pair into the hallway. “Neither of you have ever been blown up. I have—”

“She’s going to need therapy one day, isn’t she?” Carly asked Jason and Elizabeth idly, then went after her daughter.

“Speaking of therapy,” Drew said dryly as he approached them. “Do you think Cam should—”

“Kevin’s already met with him a few times,” Elizabeth assured him. “Nothing formal. Just check-ins, really.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you. Both of you.” She said, looking at Jason. “For helping Cameron and I out of trouble. I know he’d say it was your fault, but we both know that it’s not the simple.”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I wish I could have done more—”

Elizabeth shook her head at Drew. “No. I don’t want to dwell on it. Me and the boys—we’re going home. And that’s all I need.” She flashed a smile at both of them then walked after her son.

“She’s doing that thing again,” Drew muttered. “Lying right to my damn face like I can’t tell.”

Jason cast him a dark look, knowing that Drew was dipping into Jason’s memories of Elizabeth for that. “I know that. You worry about getting Sam committed. I’ll take care of Elizabeth and the boys.”

“Well, that would be a first,” Drew retorted, then walked away.

—

The next day, Elizabeth stepped out on the porch of the house on Lexington Avenue, then turned to look across the street where Patrick and Robin had once lived. She could hear the boys arguing inside over what to order for dinner for their first night in their new home—

Then Jason’s deep voice telling them they were getting pizza, and to knock it off. She smiled briefly, hearing the door open. She turned to him. “They argue over everything.”

“Yeah, I know. I think Jake does it on purpose just to get Cam mad.” Jason stepped up next to her. “He gets that from you.”

“Oh, sure.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Because you don’t rile anyone up for fun. I’ve seen you with Carly.”

Jason winced. “Point taken.” He hesitated. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. She looked at him, thought about lying, then shrugged looking back out over the street — the street that Jake had nearly on twice, but also the street where they’d learned to ride their bikes and play street hockey.

Where they gone trick or treating—the street where they’d hugged Emily goodbye for the last time—

“No,” Elizabeth said finally. She smiled at him. “But I’m going to be. I’m home. It’s a start.”

August 19, 2020

This entry is part 16 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits or typos.

A few weeks later, Elizabeth was sitting at the table, struggling to wrap the last gift that needed to go under the tree. She usually did a pretty decent job of not shopping until the last minute but despite eight years of being a mother—she’d never managed to finish wrapping before Christmas Eve.

Now it was nearly midnight, and she still had to put the boxes under the tree. She wrinkled her nose as she stared at the closet where she had hid the gifts while the boys were in school that day — she hadn’t been able to hide them at home since Cameron had learned to climb.

The door opened then, and a rush of swirling ice and wind came through as Jason entered, closing the door softly behind him. “Hey.” He joined her at the table, brushing a light against her lips. “Sorry, I’m late. It took longer than I thought to put together the bike.”

“But it’s in the garage?” Elizabeth asked, wrinkling her eyebrows. “It’s the only thing Cameron really asked for—”

“It’s in the garage,” he confirmed. He stripped off his jacket and tossed it on the hook. “What else can I do?”

“I just need to finish wrapping this last one, then I can start putting things under the tree—” She nodded at the closet door. “Everything is in there if you want to start, and I’ll be over in a second—” She handed him the key to the closet, and he went to unlock it.

He stared at it for a long moment, then turned to her with raised eyebrows. “Did you leave anything in the stores?”

“Listen. At this age, it’s about quantity. When they’re teenagers or grown adults, I can start cutting back.” The last box in her hands, she went to the tree and set it down. “Let’s do Cameron’s on this side, and then Aiden on the other—”

Jason handed her boxes, and she arranged them—they worked in silence, hoping to get everything done quickly and quietly so that boys wouldn’t wake up — it had been incredibly hard to get Cameron to sleep that night, and Aiden always fed off his brother’s energy.

Halfway through the closet, Jason hesitated with a box in his hand. He looked at her, then looked back at the tag. “This is, uh, it says Jake—”

“Oh.” Elizabeth took the brightly colored gift, smoothing her thumb over his name. “I should have—I—” She cleared her throat. “Last year—it was the first year—” She paused. “I had ordered something for his birthday, and it came after he died. It was the first time I saw him—I saw him riding the little bike I’d bought for him—and I—”

Jason put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. “I’m sorry.”

“Last year, when I went shopping, I didn’t mean to—but I bought something for him. I got home from Wyndham’s and I just—I wrapped it, and I put his name on it. And I felt good about it. Because if I don’t buy presents for all of them, it’ll be like I don’t have three boys anymore. And I guess—” A tear slid down her cheek. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not. I know how much you love Christmas.”

“Jake did, too. More than Cameron. He loved the magic of it—that last year—when he was just three—it was the first year he didn’t cry sitting on Santa’s lap—he was so excited, and he babbled on for ten minutes about everything he wanted—”

Elizabeth sat on the sofa. “I know it gets easier to live with it,” she told him as he sat next to her. “And it has—I mean, I don’t think about him every day. But someone will ask me how many kids I have—and it’s wrong to say two. I have three beautiful boys. I had—” She put the gift on the coffee table. “I’m okay. Christmas is hard. But I don’t want Cameron to know it. I don’t want him to think about this as being a sad time.”

“He won’t. And one day, he and Aiden will be grateful you kept Jake’s memory alive for them. For all of us.” He kissed her, pressing his forehead against hers. “I don’t have enough memories of him,” Jason told her, his voice a bit rough. “That’s my fault.”

“Well, I’ll share all mine. You gave me that beautiful boy and kept him safe for me all those years. You always brought him back to me.” She touched his face. “It’s okay. We’ll put this upstairs with last year’s gift. And the birthday gifts I bought.”

Elizabeth scrubbed her hands over her cheeks. “I forgot to ask—you were supposed to meet with Diane to finalize the ELQ stuff today. Did Tracy sign over her shares?”

“Yeah, Diane has it ready for you after Christmas. She was kind of curious why Tracy was giving you another ten percent—”

“I still wish you’d take it—you’re the Quartermaine—” She grinned when he scowled at her. “I’m kidding. It’s okay. I’ll hold on to the extra fifteen percent, and then divide it among the boys when they’re old enough so they have equal shares.”

“Diane also told me that Sam has a hearing after Christmas about custody,” Jason went on as Elizabeth started to put away the trash and supplies she’d used for wrapping. “Tea is fighting her on custody—”

“Hard to blame her. I think, even if I knew the truth, I’d want to keep my baby. Six months is a long time.” Elizabeth sighed. “But she’ll get her baby back.” She looked at the Christmas tree, smiling at the paper chains that decorated it. “It looks a lot like that first tree, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jason stood her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to draw her back against him. “With an angel to watch over things.”

“It helps,” Elizabeth murmured. “To think of Jake being safe with Emily, you know? She’ll take care of him until we’re together again.” She took a deep breath, looked at him and smiled. “We’re going to have a great Christmas. I can’t wait until the boys get up tomorrow.”

“Me either.” He kissed her again. “Let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep before they get up at dawn.”

——

Meanwhile, in Greece…

Nikolas Cassadine sighed and pushed open the door to the cottage on his estate. It was a small and modest set of rooms, tucked away from any visitors.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

“Uncle Nikolas!”

A little boy with blonde hair and blue eyes dashed out of the back room, followed by his nanny and another man with dark hair and dark eyes.

“Hey—” Nikolas lifted the boy into his arms and smiled at him. He looked at the older man. “Father.”

“Nikolas. Jake and I were just getting ready to have dinner. Will you join us?”

“Sure. Yeah.” Nikolas looked at Jake, flincing slightly as he smiled. He looked so much like Elizabeth.

Soon. Soon, he’d be able to bring her son back to her.

THE END

August 18, 2020

This entry is part 19 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

A week later, Elizabeth was released from the hospital. Since waking up in post-op, she hadn’t really wanted to talk about anything that had happened since Franco had broken into her home. The boys had stayed with Laura, and Jason wasn’t really sure what would happen when Elizabeth went home.

“Are you ready to go?” Jason asked, knocking on the door. He frowned when he saw her alone in the room, standing by the window. “You shouldn’t be up—I thought Epiphany was bringing a wheel chair—”

“I can walk a little,” Elizabeth murmured. She looked at him. “I haven’t been to the house since…” She bit her lip, focused on the view outside the hospital again. “Since it happened.”

“The PCPD released the scene a few days ago, and I had someone come in—I got it cleaned up. If you’re worried about that.”

“We just moved there.” Elizabeth rubbed her chest absently. “I wanted a fresh start. Away from Franco. And he ruined that. I have no one to blame but myself.” She exhaled slowly. “Are the boys still with Laura? I don’t know if I can—if I can go there at the same time and see them—”

“Laura said she’d bring Jake and Aiden over when you wanted them. I couldn’t keep Cam away. He went to the house with Joss to make sure things were ready.” Jason approached her slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“I want to be angry with you. In fact, some of the last few days, I’ve been really good at making myself hate you.” Elizabeth met his eyes. “It’d be so easy to blame you for what happened. For not killing Franco all those years ago. For forgiving Sam. But at the end of the day, she—” She closed her eyes. “She wasn’t wrong. He raped her. And I spent years defending him. How do I live with that?”

“You didn’t know—”

“The signs were there. And I know she’s sick, but I just—finding out the truth about Danny while going through all of this with his cancer—I can understand how it broke her.” She cleared her throat. “I did a lot of terrible things while I was grieving Jake. Did—do you know what’s going to happen to her?”

“Elizabeth—” Jason shook his head. It wasn’t the moment to convince that what happened wasn’t her fault. So he answered her question. “The DA’s office charged her with Franco and your shooting, but I don’t think she’ll be found competent to stand trial. Drew is trying to get her admitted to Ferncliffe. I—” He paused. “I don’t know other than that.”

“How’s Danny? I didn’t—I haven’t—the cancer?”

“Julian is donating again,” Jason told her. “And we’re hopeful. I talked to Drew—even though we told Danny I was his father, he and I aren’t—he’s closer to Drew. He still calls him Dad.”

“I’m glad. I hope you and Drew can really work through all of this.” Elizabeth turned away from the window. “I’m ready to go home—well, I’m ready to leave the hospital.”

“All right.” Jason went over to get her bag. “Let’s go.”

—

As Jason’s SUV wound through the streets of Port Charles towards her house, she touched his elbow gently at a light. “Can you turn down here?”

“Here?” Jason repeated. He looked around with a frown. “But—”

“I just—can we go down Lexington?”

Jason looked at her for a moment. “Lexington? Where your old house was?”

“Yeah. I just want to see—” The last place she’d felt like she’d been home. A few turns and blocks later, Jason pulled up in front of the old house.

The last time she’d been here, the house had been a charred shell, but the developer she’d sold it to had gutted and rebuilt it. It looked nearly as it had the last time she’d left it.

“I loved this house,” Elizabeth said, staring at it out the window, resting her head against the seat. “Emily helped me find it. You know? And she loaned me money for the down payment. I raised my boys here.” She looked at him. “I don’t know what to do. How to feel. What to think. All of this—what happened with Franco, with Sam—and I know Cameron is hurting, too—it’s too big, Jason. I can’t do this.”

“One thing at a time,” he told her quietly. “Look at the front yard.”

Elizabeth frowned, then turned back. “For Sale,” she murmured. “Oh—Oh, I want go home.” Her vision blurred as tears spilled down her cheek. “I want to go home. Can—can you help me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll get Diane on the phone.” Jason reached over and took her hand. “I know everything happened fast,” he told her. “But we’ll just—one thing at a time,” he repeated.

She smiled faintly. “What did you used to tell me? Sometimes things happen fast, but you have to live through them slow?”

“Yeah. I should take my own advice.”

Elizabeth looked back at the house. “I’ll be okay. I’ll take my boys, and we’ll go home. And then we can figure everything else out.”

August 17, 2020

This entry is part 15 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

“Miss Tracy is in the library,” Alice told Jason and Elizabeth as she let them into the mansion a few days later. She frowned. “Are you sure you want to see her? Because Dr. Q is at the hospital—”

“It’s definitely Tracy,” Elizabeth told her. “But, um, Jason isn’t going in with me. He’s going to wait outside. Is…can you not tell her that he’s here?”

Alice sighed. “Miss Tracy is up to something again? All right. I’ll go let her know just you’re here, Miss Webber.”

Elizabeth handed her coat to Alice, keeping hold of the paperwork in her hand. “You’re the best, Alice. Thanks.”

In the library, Elizabeth found Tracy scowling at a newspaper and holding a glass of orange juice. “What do you want?” the older woman demanded.

“It’s December, Tracy,” Elizabeth said blandly. “You know that what means.”

“Oh—right.” She sighed, set down the juice and newspaper. “Time to sign over the proxy for another year—” She peered at her. “Have you reconsidered my offer to buy you out? Neither of you are DNA relatives—”

“No, but Jake was, and I inherited his stock—we’ve been over this, Tracy,” Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes. “Emily left this stock to my boys. They—” Her voice tightened and Tracy looked away. “Cameron can do whatever he wants when he’s eighteen.”

“I’m sorry. I—” Tracy pursed her lips. “Of course. Then maybe sign the proxy until he’s 18? There’s no reason—”

“Actually, I wanted to let you know that I’m planning to sell my shares,” she told Tracy. “I know that Emily’s stock should have passed to her children, and she should be raising Spencer—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I spoke Nikolas in Greece,” Elizabeth continued, watching as Tracy’s face paled. “I’m not a Quartermaine, and my little boy is gone. Emily is gone. I think these shares should go to the other little boy she loved. So Nikolas is going to buy them in Spencer’s name—”

“You’re selling part of my company to Nikolas Cassadine?” Tracy hissed. “You—you can’t do that—we—we had an agreement!”

“We did. Every year, I re-authorize the proxy. And we’ll continue doing that for Cameron—because Emily left those to him. But Emily loved Spencer like her own. This wasn’t my idea,” Elizabeth assured her. “Nikolas approached me. He’s been working on this for a while, I guess. I think he said Jason sold his stock to him as well—”

“That reprobate! It was all we could do to wrestle his back from Sonny, then my bloody mother had to leave him stock all over again—”

“And you know, Skye adored Emily—she wouldn’t sell all of it—”

“You—” Tracy jabbed a finger at her. “You’re not—you’re not serious! No, no—there’s no way you’ve orchestrated the sale of almost twenty-five percent—”

“No, it’s more like forty percent,” Elizabeth said. “Because Jason talked to Carly, and you know Michael has fifteen percent from Lila and AJ—”

“I—” Tracy stumbled over to the sofa, sat down. “How could you do this—how—” Suddenly, she focused on her, squinted her eyes. “You know, don’t you? You know what I did?”

“I do,” Elizabeth said coolly.

“I never knew about Jake!” Tracy lunged back up. “You have to understand—when I changed that will—I never knew about Jake!”

Elizabeth put her hands up, took a step back. “Wait—wait—what will?”

“Alan’s—” Tracy’s eyes bulged. “Oh—you don’t—”

“No, we don’t know,” Jason said, stepping in from the hallway, his tone like ice. “But maybe you should tell us.” He stepped up next to Elizabeth. “What did you do to my son?”

“I—I—” Tracy scowled. “I didn’t know about Jake! Alan left his stock to your children! And your children were going to be from that lying, gold digging con artist! I was never going to let Sam get a single piece of this company!” She hesitated. “Wait, if you didn’t know about the will—”

“We know about the the DNA test,” Elizabeth said, slightly shaken. “What you did to Sam and her child—all so you could keep her out of the company?”

“You—” Tracy stabbed her finger at Jason. “This is your fault! If you knew that child was Sam’s, that bitch would have gotten her claws back into you, and my father would have given him shares!”

“So, instead you let Sam think her son was dead. That is—” Elizabeth shook her head. “I would think that’s the worst thing you could do, but Emily told me enough stories. I know you’re capable of cruelty.”

Tracy lifted her chin. “I wanted to protect my family—” Then she exhaled slowly. “What are you going to do?”

“I could report you to the police,” Elizabeth said. “You participated in kidnapping an infant—” Tracy’s eyes bulged, “—bribery, extortion—falsification of medical records—”

“I—I—”

“But I’ll settle for Alan’s shares,” Jason said. “You’ll sign them over to Elizabeth. Now. They belonged to my son. They should be hers—”

“Jason—”

“You can split them between Cam and Aiden, I don’t care,” Jason told her. “But she’s not keeping them.”

“I—” Tracy shook her head. “How would I ever explain that?”

“I don’t care,” Jason told her. “You stole from my father. If I had known the contents of his will—Jake would have had his inheritance—I might—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. They belonged to him. And you’re not keeping them.”

“Okay, okay—but you’re not selling to Nikolas?” Tracy asked, worried. “And Jason isn’t—”

“Michael’s thinking about business school,” Jason said, with a shrug. “He might want ELQ one day. And Cam and Aiden might want to go to college.” He paused. “Diane will be in touch with the paperwork.”

—

“You don’t think we let her off easy?” Elizabeth asked as they got into the car. “I mean, she’s losing shares—but she’ll probably inherit from Edward—” Jason’s mouth tightened at the mention of his grandfather—they knew he was ill and would pass soon. “She’s not going to learn anything.”

“I’ll talk to Monica about the will. Tracy didn’t do this alone. And I know who’d she ask to help.” Jason looked at her. “Who do you think Tracy would go to? Five years ago?”

“Luke.” Elizabeth stared straight ahead. “Well, at least you know he feels guilty enough to tell the truth. After what he did.”

August 15, 2020

This entry is part 14 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits.

Elizabeth watched the news wash over Sam’s the face — the shock—the flash of denial—the desperate hope—

What she wouldn’t give for just the briefest glimpse of that same hope her little boy would come home—

Sam took the results from Elizabeth’s hands, ripped open the results—her hand was shaking so bad that she couldn’t get the paper out of the envelope. At her side, an ashen John McBain helped her—

“How could this have happened?” Sam demanded as she looked over the results. SHe shook her head. “What—these are just—initials—”

“Tracy had Brad run two DNA tests,” Jason told her. “The baby with your DNA, Franco’s, and mine—”

Sam’s eyes flew to meet Jason as she flinched. “Why? We—we already knew—”

“I guess Tracy wanted independent confirmation,” Elizabeth said softly.

“And Franco—” Sam closed her eyes. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” she said softly. “I knew it. I can—I can live with it. John—”

John took the results from her, scanned them for himself. “And the second test?” he asked. “Is—”

“There’s no blood relationship between Franco and me,” Jason reported. “I guess—Tracy figured while she was at it—”

“I will kill her for doing this to me—” Sam pressed her hands to her face. “Okay, okay, what do I do? What do I do? Tea—” She looked at John. “She wouldn’t—this isn’t something—”

“Tea wouldn’t do this,” John said slowly. “Not willingly or knowingly.” His face screwed up in distaste. “Todd,” he muttered. “He delivered Victor—and this isn’t even the first time he would have done this—I told you what he did to Blair and Jack—”

“How—” Sam took a deep breath. “How do I tell her it’s—her baby is gone—how do I tell her that—” She hesitated. “What do I do?” she repeated to John, and Elizabeth was surprised — Sam hadn’t even spared much more than a glance for Jason.

“Well, first things first, I need talk to Tea,” John said. He folded the results, tucked them into his coat pocket. “I think—I think I can talk her into getting Victor tested. If that doesn’t work, we can try a court—” He looked at Jason and Elizabeth. “Was this test—was it done—”

“It was all above board. Jason gave me the samples, and Patrick wrote the test order for me. We put it through the lab,” Elizabeth explained. She folded her arms. “Brad gave me a false set of paper results, but the original test is in the General Hospital computers, and Spinelli told me he and his girlfriend have already put a lock on the file to keep it from getting corrupted.”

“Thank you.” Sam looked at Jason, finally, meeting his eyes briefly before looking at Elizabeth. “Thank for doing this. For—for thinking it was a possibility, and then not giving up. I just—I think—I think John and I can handle it. I mean, he knows Tea, so—” She paused. “What do we do about Tracy?”

“Leave Tracy to me,” Jason said. “I’ll take care of that. Good luck, Sam.”

“Thank you. Oh, God, my son—” Sam’s eyes were shining with tears and joy as she turned to John. “Danny—”

“Let’s go, talk to your mother,” John told her. He put an arm around her shoulders and they left.

Elizabeth hadn’t known what to expect, but to see Sam walk away—to not even ask Jason for help getting Danny back—

“So what are you going to do to Tracy?” Elizabeth said, finally. Jason tugged lightly on her elbow as they walked in the opposite direction, walking back towards the parking lot.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “I doubt she’ll be sorry. She never liked Sam, and she knew that if—” He winced. “If Sam and I had been together—not divorced—Danny legally would have been mine and then—”

“Entitled to ELQ shares when Edward passes away.” Elizabeth put her hand on the car door, then looked up at him. “She did this because Danny might have inherited stock? She lied about this baby just to—”

“There’s not a lot Tracy wouldn’t do to protect ELQ from anyone she thinks might hurt it.”

Inside the car, he rubbed his face. “This is why I left the Quartermaines,” he muttered. “Because this is what they do. This is what they always do—”

“Not Quartermaines. Tracy. And maybe—” Elizabeth leaned back against the seat with a smirk. “Maybe we should give her a taste of her own medicine.

Jason eyed her out of the corner of his eye. “What are you thinking?” he asked, a mixture of nerves and curiosity in his eyes.

“When Emily turned eighteen,” Elizabeth said, looking at him, “she inherited stock. Like you and AJ did. And when she passed away—she left it to Cameron and Jake.”

“She—” Jason stared straight ahead. “I didn’t know that.”

“No, and Tracy was very annoyed by that,” she told him. “She wanted to buy it back from me, but it’s all my boys would ever have from Emily, so I told her that I would agree to let her vote their proxy. Because I knew she’d protect ELQ, and that was fine. But I think maybe it’s time I tell her I want to sell to someone else.”

Jason frowned. “Who? She’d never believe you’d sell it to Sam—”

“No, but she’d believe me if I said I wanted to give it to Nikolas. You know, since he and Emily were engaged at the time, and he might have inherited it otherwise through their kids.”

“Letting Tracy think Cassadine Industries might get a foothold in ELQ—” Jason squinted. “Let me make a few calls. I think we can get a few other people on board.”

August 14, 2020

This entry is part 18 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits.

Jason and Cameron weren’t alone in the waiting room for long — Carly showed up soon after they had with Joss in tow. Joss immediately flew to Cameron’s aside, the first she’d been able to see her best friend since the news had hit that morning.

Carly’s arms were tightly folded as she took in the blood on Jason’s shirt and hands. “Is there any point in asking you to get cleaned up?” she asked.

Jason shook his head wordlessly, then looked over as Drew walked in. Cameron shot his feet, glaring the man who had remained behind with Sam —

“What do you want?” Cameron demanded as Joss put a hand on his elbow. “No! I don’t want him in here! Or you—” he finally said, turning to Jason. “Neither of you deserve to be anywhere near my mother—”

“Cam—”

“What is that about?” Carly demanded as a pale Drew joined them, and Joss took Cameron aside. “What the hell—”

“He got a crash course in my—” Drew closed his eyes. “In Sam’s history with Elizabeth. And everything she’s done.”

“Done?” Carly repeated. She furrowed her brows. “What? I mean, I know she slept with Lucky while he was married to Elizabeth, but beyond that—” She looked back and forth between them. “Oh, is this something that’s going to piss me off?”

“It’s not important right now,” Drew said, dismissing Carly. “And none of your business—”

“Hey—”

“Sam’s been sedated,” Drew told Jason. “And Alexis is with her now. I just—I came to find out how Elizabeth is—”

“When were you going to tell me my son has cancer again?” Jason demanded, roughly. “Why didn’t you tell me—” He held up a hand to keep Carly from butting in again. He didn’t have the time or patience to rein her in at the moment.

“Sam wanted to—” Drew took a deep breath. “Sam wanted to keep it to herself, and after Julian refused to donate a second time—”

“He did what—”

“Carly, stop—” Jason snapped and she pressed her lips together in a mutinuous line. “I thought you said Sam left town—that you hadn’t heard from her—”

“That’s true,” Drew told him. “But Danny—I talked to Julian. I got Kiki to talk to him, and it’s already been—Danny’s already scheduled for the procedure, and Finn is confident he’ll go into remission again—” He scowled. “But I guess—I don’t know. If her condition came back, or maybe Julian’s refusal just sent her over the edge—then finding out about Franco—”

He rubbed his chest, then clenched his hand into a fist. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “She took off, and I’ve been trying to get in touch with her. If she’d just—if she’d called me—I could have told her—”

Carly opened her mouth, then closed it again, clearly trying to obey Jason’s order to be quiet.

“You did what?” Joss screeched, and Drew winced as the trio turned to the teens in the corner.

“She sure does take after you,” Drew muttered as Joss shot out of her chair, her hands on her hips.

“You snuck into the car, you stupid idiot—” Joss smacked Cameron hard in the shoulder. “What the hell are you thinking?”

“Hey—” Cameron lunged to his feet, glaring right back at her. “I was thinking that my mother was going off with two idiots who never ever fucking do anything to stop Sam from hurting her and I wanted to be there if she needed anything—”

His face crumpled then as he sank back onto the chair, his head in his hands. “But it’s my fault. Sam grabbed me. Mom came after me—”

Drew started towards him, but Jason held him back. “I’m the one that forgave Sam after she was part of getting Jake kidnapped,” he reminded him. “Everything else is on me, not you.”

“I have my regrets,” Drew muttered but let Jason walk over to Cameron as Drew stayed next to Carly who, mirroring her daughter, smacked Drew in the shoulder.

“She did what to Jake?”

Jason ignored them and sat next to Cameron. “Your mother would walk through fire for you. She would not want you to blame yourself for this—”

“She dared Sam to shoot her instead of me,” Cameron said dully. “It should be me in there—”

“No,” Joss shook her head. “No, Cam—”

“And then your mother would be out here, terrified of losing another son. Jake might have come back, but she—” Jason drew in a sharp breath. “She never would have forgiven herself if it was you. You know that.”

“How could you let her back into your life?” Cameron demanded. “How could you let her hurt my mother like that? Why did you stop—” He shook his head, looked away.

“I made a mistake,” Jason said slowly. “When I broke up with your mother after Jake was kidnapped. You were four years old, I don’t know if you remember—” He paused. “And by the time I regretted it, your mother had moved on, and I thought I had lost my chance. I was lonely. And I’m sorry.”

Cameron swallowed hard. “If you broke up with her to keep her safe, it didn’t work.”

“No, it didn’t,” Jason admitted. “I’m sorry, Cameron. I can’t—I can’t change what I did. I can only promise to do better.”

Cameron looked at him, must have seen something in his eyes that convinced him, so he nodded. “Okay. But I don’t care what happens to Sam. She doesn’t come near my mother ever again.”

“Agreed,” Jason said, though he wasn’t entirely sure how they’d make that happen. He looked over at Drew who was still being whacked in the shoulder by Carly — he must have explained Maureen Harper.

“It wasn’t me, damn it, Carly—”

“Oh, I will get him later, don’t you worry—I always knew she was trash—”

Joss rolled her eyes. “My mother. The hypocrite.”

The door opened then, and Griffin came in, frowning as he saw Carly whack Drew one more time before Drew got out of the way.

“Uh, I just came to let you know we finished the surgery,” he said, still casting a side-eye at Carly and Drew before focusing on Jason and Cameron. “Elizabeth’s in post-op and should make a full recovery.”

August 13, 2020

This entry is part 13 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 19 minutes. No time for typos.

Jason stared at Elizabeth for a long time before looking down at the envelope she’d placed in his hands.

They had stood here in late August, in the same positions—she looking at him with sober, sad eyes, holding out a stark white envelope with General Hospital’s logo and Patrick’s Drake name scribbled across the front.

She was still looking at him with sober, sad eyes and he realized, even before he had opened the results—before he had confirmed that her words were true—that she was expecting the same outcome as she had three months ago.

That Jason would rush off to tell Sam, bring home her son, and reunite, saving their marriage, and getting a fresh start.

Jason exhaled slowly, drew out the folded paper, and read it. He furrowed his brow slightly at the notification a few tests—he’d look at that more carefully in a minute, but—

Sam’s son was alive. At least, according to this test, he was.

“Why didn’t you tell me you thought Brad Cooper was lying to you?” Jason said. He folded it again, slid it back into the envelope, and tucked it inside his jacket. “Why did you go to Spinelli?”

“Because I wanted to be wrong,” Elizabeth admitted. She folded her arms, tightly, as if she could hold herself together. “And I’m terrible for that. Terrible for hoping that Sam’s son stayed dead. I have to live with myself, knowing that I feel that way—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I just—” Elizabeth’s eyes squeezed shut as she turned away from him, looked out over the skyline of Port Charles. “I can’t stop hating myself. I almost—” She sucked in the breath. “I was going to wait. Until the end of my shift. To keep putting it off. I’m no better than Sam was when she kept the truth about Jake—”

“Elizabeth, how long did you have these results?” Jason asked. He put a hand on her shoulder, turned her back to face him. “An hour? Two?”

“Ten minutes,” she said with a wince. “But I thought it—”

“And I thought about strangling Lucky Spencer every time he puts his hands on you or Jake,” Jason said in a low voice. “I didn’t do it. You didn’t lie to me, Elizabeth. And you didn’t let anyone walk away from Danny. You didn’t watch whatever happened—you didn’t see it happen.”

He paused. “And this isn’t August,” Jason continued. “Things are different now—”

“Jason—”

“I can’t tell you what would have happened if we’d…if we’d learned this back then,” Jason said slowly. “I can only tell you what changes today. And it’s nothing.”

She met his eyes, frowning slightly. “I—”

“I mean, we’ll take this to Sam, and let her handle it. And then I’ll go deal with Tracy because she had no right to do this—” Jason squinted. “And was there another test in there that compared my DNA to Franco’s?”

“Uh—” Elizabeth scratched her temple. “Yeah. Um, I guess Tracy wanted—you’re not Franco’s brother. I mean—DNA wise, there’s no blood—”

And that was a relief—a weight off his shoulders. “Okay. But that’s all that changes.”

“I—”

“I love you,” he told her quietly. “But I understand that you don’t trust that.”

“It’s not that I don’t—” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, bit down. “It’s not that I don’t trust you—”

“You don’t trust me to stay,” Jason told her, with a shake of his head. “And that’s because I didn’t. When it mattered. It matters now. You did this, even worried that it meant I’d leave you. And that means—” He took out the test again. Really thought about the risk she’d taken—believed she’d been taking.

“I hope it means part of you does trust me,” Jason added, “but it also reminds me that I can trust you. To always be honest. Even when it might hurt us both. And that’s—” He hesitated. “That’s not something we’ve always shared.”

“No, I guess that’s true.” Elizabeth’s smile was tentative. “So—I mean—”

He leaned down, brushed her lips with his. “Nothing has changed for me. I love you. And I love the life we’re building together. I’m glad I get to tell Sam her son is alive, but I want to do that with you. She should know that you were part of it.”

“I can probably get Epiphany to cover the rest of my shift,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’d—I’d like to be there when Sam finds out.” She stood on the tips of her toes, kissed him. “I love you, too.”

——

Jason called Sam and asked her to meet him in the park — on neutral ground. Sam had seemed confused with the call, but he told her that he and Elizabeth wanted to talk to her about something.

He’d heard the pain in her voice as she asked him if he was telling her they were getting married. He assured her that it wasn’t the case, and she agreed.

Still — Jason wasn’t entirely unsurprised when Sam walked into the park with John McBain at her side.

Sam never liked to walk into any battle outnumbered—and everything was a battle to her.

“Jason—” Sam looked at Elizabeth, standing at his side. “What’s going on?”

“A few months ago, I met Tea Delgado’s son,” Jason told her. “And I got suspicious because her son was born the same night as yours—”

“Jason—”

“And there were other reasons,” he continued, “that I won’t get into right now, but I told Elizabeth about my theory. She arranged a DNA test.” He looked at Elizabeth.

“The first test came back negative,” Elizabeth told Sam, “but the lab tech who ran it was nearly fired due to budget cuts. Budget cuts that were solved by a donation from ELQ—from Tracy Quartermaine—”

Sam closed her eyes, her face pale, her hands shaking as she put them up. “What are you saying—”

“I was worried the tech had lied to me,” Elizabeth said. “So I asked Spinelli if he could track down the original test.”

She held out the envelope. “And the original test confirmed Jason’s theory. Tea Delgado’s son is Danny. She’s raising him in Llanview, but he’s—”

Sam gasped, choking on a sob. “What—What? Are you—”

“Danny is alive, Sam. Your son is alive.”

August 12, 2020

This entry is part 16 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

No time for typos. Written in 20 minutes.

By the time Jason arrived with the clean up crew, he found Elizabeth standing over Ric’s body. Blood was dribbling out of Ric’s mouth, and his eyes were still open, the film of death clouding them.

Elizabeth met his eyes when she came through the door. “Where’s Lily?” She tucked the gun she’d still been holding back in her purse holster, then strode over to him. “Is she okay? Where—”

“With Steven across the hall.” Jason took her by the shoulder as a few men came in and started to wrap Ric in the plastic tarp. He searched her eyes, then looked up and down—not a mark on her, a hair out of place—

He pressed his lips together, looked at Ric’s body, then back at Elizabeth. “That’s why you wanted to meet him alone,” Jason said, exhaling. “You were planning this.”

“He was never going to stop,” she murmured. She also looked back at her ex-husband, at the man who had never, ever accepted her right to say no, to walk away, and build a new life.

“I never—I would have done this—” His throat was tight. “I didn’t want this for you—”

“This was my battle to fight. Not yours. He came after you because of me.” Her voice trembled. “He stole our daughter because of me. I needed to finish it. I need to see her—she’s okay? You said she’s okay?”

“She is.” Jason put an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the penthouse, away from Ric Lansing for the last time. “She’s—she’s been called Isla this last year.” He stopped her before they went inside. “She’s in perfect health, but she doesn’t know us.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, scrubbed her hands over her face. “Isla,” she repeated. “She’s—she’s not even a year old. We—we could—we could go back to—”

But now it felt wrong. Lily had been the name they’d chosen together for their little girl, their dream, for their future. She’d wanted to honor Jason’s grandmother, Lila—

This little girl didn’t know them.

“We could,” Jason said slowly. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Let’s just go inside and take it step by step.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, twisted the knob, then opened the door. Inside, her brother was sitting on the sofa, the baby in his lap. She was smiling at him, a stuffed dog in her hands, an ear in her mouth.

The baby turned at the sound. She smiled. Elizabeth choked back a sob. It was her little girl, the little face she’d seen in the photograph—older now, the hint of fuzzy blond hair a little longer now—curling around her ears. She had her daddy’s sunny blonde hair, his blue eyes—

“She looks like you,” Jason told her. Elizabeth blinked, then laughed. “What?” he asked, his eyes crinkling with confusion.

“I was just thinking that she looked like you—your coloring—”

“She has your face.” Jason walked over and without a word, Steven handed the baby to him. “Hey, Isla,” Jason said softly, bouncing her slightly. “Remember me?”

The baby ducked her head, pressing it against Jason’s chest, then smiling at him. She babbled something, waved the stuffed dog.

“That’s right, that’s from me,” he murmured. Elizabeth recognized it now — he’d given it to her the day they’d learned she was pregnant. Baby’s first toy.

It had been sitting in the nursery for over a year, waiting for their daughter.

“This is Mommy,” Jason told her. The baby crinkled her eyes, shook her head. “I know, you have another Mommy—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, her heart aching. Oh, God—it would be so easy for their daughter to adjust to Jason—she’d never had a father—no other person to replace—but she already had a mother.

“This is also your mommy,” Jason told her. He walked over to Elizabeth. “This is Elizabeth.”

“Hi, baby.” Elizabeth reached out, touched her skin. Oh, God, she was real. She was really—she was here. This wasn’t another waking nightmare. “Hi.”

She babbled, smiled at Elizabeth, then tucked her head against Jason to give Elizabeth the same smile she’d given Jason a moment ago.

“Your name, it’s—” Elizabeth swallowed. “You’re Isla.”

Something that sounded like yes emerged from the babble as Isla lifted her head, waved the dog ear at her.

“Can I give you a hug?” she asked. “I’d like—I’d like to hug you.”

“Dog,” Isla said with a nod. She held out her arms, and Jason transferred her into Elizabeth’s embrace.

And Elizabeth held her daughter for the first time. She held her tight, cupping the back of her head, pressing her cheek to her daughter’s. It didn’t matter what her name was—didn’t matter that today, Isla didn’t really know who she was.

She was holding her little girl.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at Jason. “Thank you. For bringing her home.” His eyes were red, and she could see the tears clinging to his lower lashes as he nodded. He smoothed his hand down Isla’s back. Their first time standing together as a family.

—

A few hours later, they put Isla down for her first night in the nursery. Elizabeth had rocked her to sleep in the rocking chair, just as she’d dreamed for so long, Jason leaning against the door frame.

As Isla’s beautiful blue eyes closed, Elizabeth looked up at Jason. “We’ll have to take turns putting her to sleep,” she told him. “We have so much time to make up for.”

He nodded, then hesitated. “I never should have left six months ago,” Jason told her. “I never dreamed—I never thought she was—I wouldn’t have—”

“I know. Neither of us dreamed this might be possible.” Elizabeth bit her lip, letting her finger drift down Isla’s soft cheek. “It would be easy to hold on to the anger, to the bitterness. To the way I’ve felt for six months. The divorce is supposed to be final in a few weeks.”

She met Jason’s eyes again. “I’m not letting Ric steal more time from me. I’ll call Justus in the morning and withdraw the petition. We deserve—we deserve a chance to be a family.”

Jason walked over, then knelt beside the chair to kiss Isla first—her eyes crinkled slightly, but stayed closed. “I love you,” he told her.

“I love you, too.”