Went a little over 🙂

The role of Michael Corinthos is now being played by the scrumptious Rory Gibson.

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With a trembling hand, Willow twisted her key in the lock, and released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding when it turned easily. Michael hadn’t changed the locks. Maybe he hadn’t thought of it, maybe he hadn’t been able to get anyone out on such short notice, but Willow would take it as a small sign that she hadn’t completely destroyed her marriage.

Though it was on life support and fading fast.

The living room was silent, shades still drawn to block out even the weakest of the December light gradually spreading across the estate as the sun rose higher in the sky. Wiley was usually awake by now, getting ready for school, begging to go to the main house for Sasha’s cooking rather than the basic cereal and fruit he’d happily eaten before she’d taken the job as the Quartermaine cook.

But there was no small, boisterous boy bouncing around with that bottomless well of energy that only children seemed able to tap into. And if not for the small rustling from the kitchen, Willow might have thought no one was home at all.

She set her purse on the table next to the door, laid her keys next to it, the metallic clinking making her wince though surely Michael — if it was Michael in the kitchen — would have heard the door.

He was at the counter, leaning back against it, a mug of coffee in his hand. One that Willow had given him last summer for Father’s Day. She could remember making it with their son, having Wiley draw a picture for his father, with Amelia’s scribbling, and her neat hand writing proclaiming World’s Best Dad, then sending it away to be placed on the mug.

Had that only been a few months ago?

She stood in the threshold of the kitchen, and he said nothing, just looked at her. Watched her with a careful expression. His shoulders tensed — just the slightest movement beneath the white button-down shirt he wore, and a muscle in his jaw clenched.

Finally Michael broke eye contact, set the mug on the counter, cleared his throat. “How’s Drew?”

Willow inhaled a shaky breath, because why wouldn’t he think that? Why wouldn’t he believe she’d run from him to the man she’d broken their vows with?

“I don’t know. I was with my mother.” She folded her arms tightly across her middle, heat crawling up her neck. “I don’t know what to say. Don’t how to act. How to look at you and not…I don’t know what happened. I can’t explain it. I-I’m s-sorry.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m so ashamed, Michael. That— that doesn’t even begin to describe it, but it’s the b-best I can do right now.” She dragged a hand through her hair, rumbled from a sleepless night. “I don’t know how it started or how it—I don’t understand.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” He picked up the mug again, but didn’t drink. He stared down at it, his thumb rubbing against the Amelia’s purple scraggly lines. “He’s my uncle, Willow.”

“I-I k-know. I know that it makes it s-so much worse, and I can’t—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “He was sleeping with my mother.”

If she’d been looking at him, she would have seen the first real reaction — Michael nearly dropped the coffee, catching it at the last minute, but the liquid sloshed over the sides, burning his skin. He hissed and set it down, reaching the faucet and twisting it on to cold water.

Her eyes flew open. “Oh—did—” She came forward, then stopped, when he flashed her a warning look not to come closer. “Can I get something—cream or—”

“It’s fine,” he bit out. He yanked the dishtowel from the hook to dry his hand. “What did you just say?”

“Nina—she told me last night. I—I didn’t know I could feel worse, you know? That there was something lower than how I felt. The man I thought he was — I made him up in my head. The whole time I thought—he was sleeping with Nina. And God, that would be bad enough, but what he did to Danny—I don’t understand. I don’t know how I didn’t see it.” Her voice broke. “How did I throw us away for something that doesn’t exist?”

Michael tossed the towel aside. “I don’t know. And I don’t really have time to talk about any of it. I have to go to family court.”

“Oh, Danny—” Willow stepped aside as he came closer. “What happened? Is he all right?”

“He spent the night in the PCPD lockup, Willow. And there’s a small chance that the judge won’t release him to Elizabeth’s custody today.” He stopped when they were little more than a foot apart. “Weeks I’ve known what you did that night. And it’s been days since I found out Drew was forcing Scout to lie and trying to blackmail Jake into keeping quiet—”

Willow pressed a fist to her mouth. “Oh, God—”

“I didn’t act. I didn’t do anything to protect my cousins, because I thought protecting my kids was the right choice. But I was just—” He pressed his lips together. “I was just protecting myself. From this moment. From what has to be said.” He met her eyes. “The night I found about you and Drew—the first time—the kiss—before Sam died. I went to the bar. And I slept with someone.”

Willow flinched, dropped her eyes to the tiled floor. She said nothing, could say nothing. The flash of anger had to be swallowed. Because she’d started this, hadn’t she? She’d cracked her marriage first. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Yeah, me either.”

And then he left, the gatehouse front door slamming a few beats later.

—

Jake stifled a yawn as he came down the steps, trying to step lightly, knowing—hoping—his father had managed to get some sleep on the sofa, though he couldn’t imagine how. Jake had tossed and turned, only dozing off a few times but always being jerked away at the thought of his brother being behind bars.

He stopped at the landing, where he could see that his father was still sitting up, his legs stretched out, but Jason’s head was tipped to the side, his eyes closed. Jake’s mother was curled up next to him, his father’s arm around her shoulder,  her head on his chest. Neither of them stirred at the sound of his footsteps, and he didn’t know what to do. Continue to the kitchen to get something to eat? Wake up them for court?

He thought of his father’s words the night before, remembering that as his parents had tried to explain their sudden engagement, that he’d said something unexpected, something else that had kept Jake up throughout the night.

“I don’t think it’s that much of a surprise. Not to me. And if you think about some of the things we’ve talked about, Jake, it’s probably not to you. Yes, the custody case has sped up something that would have happened later. But I want to make it very clear that it’s not why.”

His dad had talked about regrets a lot the last few weeks, Jake remembered. Especially when they’d talked about his childhood and when he’d been born, and he’d mostly thought that Jason meant he regretted not being more present for Jake, not stepping up as his father.

“I made a mistake. I was too scared to hold on, and your mother was tired of waiting. And by the time I realized it—she hadn’t put her life on hold. So I tried to move on. I did for a long time. I’m not sorry I married Sam because I have Danny, and I love him. But I will regret for the rest of my life that I was too scared to hold on to you. That we lost all those years.”

Jake had just figured we was him and his dad, but maybe it was his mother, too. And what if that was true? What if his dad regretted both choices? What would it be like if they were really married? Any maybe—maybe it wouldn’t be that different, Jake thought. After all, hadn’t he told Jason that his parents were like most divorced parents who had co-parent? They’d always been a team when it came to him—and pretty much in general. Always defending his each other, looking out for each other—

Maybe most things wouldn’t change, Jake thought, except his dad would live with them and so would Danny. And everyone might be happier.

It was something to think about. But first—

Jake crept back upstairs, stood at the top for a moment, then came back down in his usual fashion, thundering down them so fast he was almost skipping a few by the time he reached a bottom, and this time when he reached the landing, his parents were awake, sitting up, his mother stifling a yawn.

First, they had to bring Danny home.

—

With an uncharacteristic heavy heart, Ric knocked lightly on the open office door with Drew’s name emblazoned the name plate, above the word CEO. Behind the desk, Drew sat scribbling something on a yellow legal pad. “I came as soon as I got your message.”

Drew glanced up, then got to his feet, his mouth pinched. “How long will it take to get Tracy’s order of protection thrown out? I want to get my daughter out of there before they can poison her more—”

“I imagine,” Ric said slowly, “I could probably file an injunction pending the outcome of the CPS investigation. The right judge would probably grant it, so maybe two days.” He paused. “But you’ll have to find another lawyer.”

Drew scowled, came around the side of the desk. “I thought we were on the same page. I thought we understood each other.”

“I understood that you hated Jason Morgan nearly as much I as I do.” Ric tipped his head. “And until yesterday, I let that be enough for me.”

“I know—” Drew put up his hands, his expression easing. “I know that was difficult, and believe me, I didn’t enjoy it. I love Jake and Danny—”

“Hard to see it,” Ric said dryly. “And I don’t think anyone in that room would believe it either.”

“Jake’s a good kid. An excellent one. Elizabeth—you know I think the world of her, I do. And under other circumstances, if Jason weren’t in the picture, hell, I might even let her take point on Scout when I’m DC. I loved her once, too—”

“You threatened to throw Jake in jail last night, Drew. Danny spent the night in lockup, and with the wrong judge today, he’ll be sent to juvenile detention.” Ric exhaled slowly. “It was one thing to champion you when this whole idea was academic. When the kids were just pawns on the chess board, but safe at the Quartermaines or with Alexis. The only reason I took your case if because you told me you wanted to destroy Jason’s case so you could have both kids with Alexis. Now you’re playing damage control, trying to butter me up by singing Elizabeth’s praises, but I was there last night, Drew.”

“You think I wanted any of this?” Drew demanded, the sneer returning to his mouth. “You think I wanted Sam to be dead, to have those kids be used this way? She should be alive, damn it. And with her kids. But I don’t get to have things the way I want them. I don’t get to have any of it the way it should be. I can’t go back and not get on that damn plane, okay? Or to take that stupid plea deal for Carly and lose more time—”

“Well, if you’d called me back then, I’d have told you that was pretty dumb,” Ric muttered. “Never sacrifice for Carly. Always ends badly.”

“You—” Drew stabbed a finger at him. “You don’t get to stand there in any moral superiority. You chained her to a wall and threatened to take her kid—”

“And give her to Elizabeth, so let’s not pretend Morgan wouldn’t still be alive if I’d succeeded.” Ric ignored the roll of Drew’s eyes. “You don’t like the hand you’re dealt, fine. Me either, buddy. The stunt I pulled back on you with Hayden cost me the last chance I’ll ever have with Elizabeth—”

“And you certainly didn’t earn yourself any points for standing there with me last night,” Drew shot back. “We’re both in shit, Ric, so you can either work with me to dig out, or—”

“You’re right. I’m in the dog house not just with Elizabeth, where I’m pretty sure I’ll be living permanently, but with my daughter. Molly. The last person on the planet that gives a damn about me. And you know what, Drew? It’s going to be pretty easy to get myself out of trouble. I drop you and walk away. It’s called cutting your losses. Why don’t you try it?”

“Not when I’m almost where I need to be. Jason’s been around for five minutes, and both his kids took swings at me. Jason’s put me against a wall. It’s going to be a slam dunk keeping Danny away from him—”

“You’ll have to do without me.”

—

“I don’t remember the last time I wore one of these,” Jason said, reluctantly holding up his arm so that Elizabeth could button the cuffs at his wrist. “I hate this. What do my clothes have to do with what kind of person I am? It doesn’t make be a better father to put on ties—”

“No, but it means you understand how to follow rules. To respect authority.” She lifted her brows. “And you need all the help you can in that area, we both know that.” She smoothed a hand down his light blue shirt, then lifted the tie from her dresser, winding it around his neck and going to work on the knot.

He made a face, but it was impossible to argue with that logic. He had enough working against him today, and knew what Elizabeth hadn’t said — that no matter how amazing she was — there was still a chance the judge would see the son of Jason Morgan in front of him on assault charges and throw the book at him.

“I don’t want this for Danny or Jake.”

Elizabeth frowned, lifting her eyes to his, her hands still on the tie. “What? Suits?”

“This life. Going to court. Being arrested. I’ve—I’ve never cared about my record. Even when they were younger. I don’t care what people think about me. I never did. But I should have. I should have—” His throat felt tight. “It reflects on the people around me. How they’re treated. What if they don’t look at Danny? What if the district attorney and the judge, what if all they see is the last name? What if I’m the reason Danny can’t come home today?”

Elizabeth hesitated, dropped her eyes, and his stomach lurched when she didn’t immediately reassure him. She slid her hands down his chest, smoothing the shirt, then straightened his tie one more time, before moving away from him to find the jacket still on the hanger he’d tossed on her bed behind him.

“You were so young when you went to work for Sonny,” Elizabeth said, handing the jacket to him. “I know you weren’t thinking about the day, nearly thirty years later when you’d have to look at the consequences of that choice in the face.”

“I didn’t care about the future,” Jason muttered, whipping the jacket around, shrugging into it, grimacing at the way it didn’t stretch easily over his frame. “It didn’t exist for me. But I could have changed my mind at any point. We could have left Port Charles. I thought about it.”

She looked at him, tipping her head to the side, the ends of her hair carefully curled in the way that made him want to run his hands through them, straighten them and watch them curl back into position. “We’re not your only family, Jason. We weren’t then, and we aren’t now. Even with Michael in a coma, you would have worried about him. About Morgan. And Carly and Sonny—”

“I should have put my son first—”

“Jason.” She adjusted the lapels of his jacket, flicking away an errant piece of lint, then touched his temple. “Up here, you know Michael isn’t your son. Not biologically or legally. But here—” She pressed a hand against his heart. “He’s always been yours. And he loves you, too. You’ve been a steady constant for him when his world was chaos. You put your sons first in the only way that made sense to you. You knew Jake was safe with me, that I would guard him with my life, and love him with my whole heart. You knew Danny was safe with Sam, that she would do anything to keep him whole and happy.”

Her lips curved into a sad smile. “But we both know Michael has never had that guarantee, as much as Carly might wanted it. I regret the time we lost with Jake, the time we lost together, but I will never regret the time and love you’ve given to Michael. I’m so indebted to that little boy who taught you how to love with your whole heart, and I would never resent him for the love and attention you gave him. Look at who he grew up to be. What a wonderful father, son, brother—how can either of us look at Danny, Jake, or Michael, at who those boys grew up to be and think we could have done better?”

Jason wanted to speak, wanted to find the words to express what her words meant to him, the truth he wanted to believe so much, but he couldn’t speak past the tightness in his throat. He raised her hand to his lips, kissed the inside of her palm. “But today—”

“Today we’re going to court as a united front. You and I, with the future we’re planning. With the boys I’ve raised as an example of the home Danny can hope to live in, and with the full force and might of the Quartermaine name and ELQ behind Michael when he shows up. We’re going to bring Danny home today.”

And when she said it, he could believe it. “And then I’m going make Drew sorry he ever threatened my sons.”

“Oh, count on it. That’s step two today.” She smiled again, one that reached her eyes. “Let’s go bring Danny home.”

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