Written in 71 minutes. Sorry 😛

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Friday, September 6, 2024

Port Charles High School: Industrial Arts Classroom

“You know what, maybe Danny doesn’t get to run the saw—” Rocco took his stepbrother by the shoulders, physically tugging him away from the scroll saw, when Danny’s fingers slipped for the fifth time lining up the wood for their project.

“I can do it,” Danny muttered, jerking out of Rocco’s grip. “Leave off.”

“Whatever, man. If you don’t need ten fingers to get through life, who am I to argue?”

“What’s his problem?” Jake asked, raising his voice over the saw, keeping one eye on his brother because he had a feeling if Danny went home with a mark on him from the class Jake suggested they take together, he’d never hear the end of it.

“Oh.” Rocco made a face. “Big meltdown fight with Sam last night. He’s dead in the water for the rest of his life.”

Danny hissed, finishing the cuts. He shoved his goggles up his forehead. “She’s fucking crazy, and I’m sick of her shit. She took the Switch. And found my burner cell, so now I’m really locked out.”

“Look, just play nice with your mom and she’ll cool down—” Jake closed his mouth when Danny shot him a dirty look. “Why are we pissed at me now? I didn’t do anything—”

Rocco made a face and Danny shot him the finger. “What? Either tell him what’s burning your ass or shut up. It’s my turn on the saw. You talk to your brother. Figure it out.” He yanked the goggles down over his eyes, picked up another piece of wood.

“Danny?” Jake pushed. “I know I was a smartass at the station—”

“It’s not you. Mom just treats me like I’m gonna commit a crime at any second. I broke curfew twice, and she’s treating me like I’m in Alcatraz. Your mom barely blinked when Cam got nabbed for the weed—”

“Because he was buying it for our cousin with cancer,” Jake reminded him, “but yeah, I guess your mom would have peeled your skin off if you’d done that. I’m sorry. Maybe Mom might have done more restricting if I’d shown any interest—” He stopped when Rocco snorted. “What?”

“First, no. Aunt Liz spent all summer forcing you to spend time with him. Also, Danny, I’m sorry, you know I love Sam most of the time, but she’s crashing out over this whole thing. I don’t think she likes Aunt Liz very much.”

Jake furrowed his brow. “What did she say about my mom?”

Danny scowled. “Dude, don’t—”

“If someone talked about my mom the way Sam talks about Aunt Liz, I’d wanna tell the guy. ” Rocco folded his arms. “I think if Aunt Liz was keeping you from your dad, Sam would go the opposite direction. She just wants to fight. She said something about your mom always settling for whatever crumbs your dad gives her.”

Danny’s face flooded with color and Jake went still. “What does that mean?” he asked flatly.

“Exactly what I said. I don’t know what’s gotten into her these last few weeks, but ever since Carly didn’t end up going to jail or whatever when she got arrested, but Sam’s been the worst to live with.” Rocco picked up his wood, slid into place and started the saw, drowning out any other conversation.

Davis House: Living Room

Alexis waved at Kristina as she came down the steps from the entrance, then turned away slightly to continue speaking on the phone at her ear. “No, my answer remains the same, Agent Caldwell. We have nothing to say. Not without a warrant. Goodbye.” She ended the conversation, looked at her daughter, exhaled on a short exasperated breath. “The FBI wants us to come in for an interview.”

Kristina carefully set her purse on the desk. “Why? We gave a statement already. You were here, I was at my apartment, and Dad was at the MetroCourt. There’s nothing else they need.”

“Precisely what I told them.” Alexis set her phone on the charger, then picked up her coffee mug. “I think the case has gone colder than they’d expected five days out. Their only real suspects all have alibis, and without a weapon or a witness, they’re circling back to try us again. It’s nothing to worry about.” She lifted her mug. “I still have half a pot. Want any?”

“No. I’m okay.” Kristina watched her mother head into the kitchen, bit down on her lip. If the FBI was coming back to her, they were definitely not focusing on Jason or her father. And if they wanted to confirm alibis, they might ask for phone records, pinning their locations. Kristina had turned hers off after leaving the house — but that would be suspicious wouldn’t it? And they might go for the security records?

She forced herself to smile when Alexis returned, but in her head, she was already planning her excuses to leave.

Time for the next step.

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Main Floor

Jason had never been one to keep an eye on the clock, but this morning, he kept looking up, then at the cargo dock. He had to sign for a shipment due today, but after that?

Nothing was going to keep him from heading straight for Elizabeth’s and picking up where they’d left off the night before. He hadn’t exactly planned to dive in head first, though his mind had wandered there a time or two over the last few weeks, as they’d spent more time together, and those familiar feelings, never far from the surface, had begun to simmer.

But Elizabeth was giving him the green light, and he wasn’t going to wait another minute. No more stops or start, he told himself, checking his phone again for the time because maybe the warehouse clock was off. But it wasn’t, unfortunately, and the truck was late.

“Dad?”

Jason turned, frowning when he saw Jake approaching him, having entered through the one of the other doors. “Jake. You’re—is something wrong? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

Jake made a face. “Yeah, I cut after first. Don’t snitch, okay? I’m going back after—but—” He  paused. “I wanted to talk to you. Away from Mom. Do—do you have a minute?”

“Yeah.” He gestured to his nearby office. “They’ll come get me when the truck gets here. What’s going on?”

“I don’t even know where to start. This whole thing is stupid,” Jake muttered, following his father into the office, waited for him to close the door. Jake shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Me, Danny, and Rocco, we got a class together. Industrial Arts—it’s like woodshop, you know? The only elective freshman and seniors can even get together. We tried to get Aiden in, but he just had to take French—never mind. That’s not the point.” He huffed. “Why is Danny’s mom such a bitch?”

Jason lifted his brows, and Jake’s cheeks flooded. “Maybe I shouldn’t call her that, but it’s hard to say anything else, I guess. Mom tries to be nice about it, though I don’t know why she bothers since Sam is the reason the old house blew up—long story,” he added when Jason scowled. “You were still, you know,” he wiggled his fingers. “Coma. Anyway. Danny comes in today really pissed off, and his mom basically took everything away from him. I guess she found the cell he’s been using to text you.”

Jason took out his phone again, winced. “I should have realized Sam wouldn’t let him have that much freedom. Not even over the phone.” He looked at Jake. “Look—”

“We can talk about why you’re not being a bigger dick to her later because I got thoughts on that, too. My thing is that Sam is the one that put me and Mom in the middle, okay? She got this bright idea for supervised visits, and made Mom the babysitter. And she and Mom were mostly okay when you were dead. But now it’s like there’s a switch flipped, and it’s a competition. And Danny gave her attitude about it, because you know, Mom doesn’t do the same for me. She’s always told me I could have as much time with you as I wanted, and—” He shuffled, looked away for a minute. “I didn’t want much until the last couple of days. I only did it for Mom and Danny.”

“You’re not telling me anything I didn’t know, Jake,” Jason said, and Jake exhaled, seeming to be relieved Jason wasn’t holding that against him.

“Maybe that’s why his mom tried to force it. Because I didn’t want it. But then the PCPD happened which isn’t anyone’s fault except whoever killed that guy, and his mom is back to thinking you’re the bad guy.” Jake paused. “But I don’t get why she did this in the first place if it’s not to make me miserable. Or make me lose it around you and Mom. Danny tried to tell her that I didn’t want to. And she didn’t care. And she said some rude shit about Mom in front of Rocco last night, and I just…I wanna know what her damage is so we can—” He waved a hand. “Make it stop.”

Jason let out a low breath, set aside his clipboard. “You never ask the easy questions,” he said. “A long time ago, before you were born, Sam and I were engaged. We broke up for a little while. At the same time, your mom was married to Lucky, and they separated.” He paused, unsure exactly how to phrase the next part.

“And then I happened,” Jake supplied. “I fucked everything up, I know. I did the math once—”

Jason straightened. “No. You were a miracle. Don’t ever think anything else. It doesn’t matter what else was going on around us,” he continued when Jake looked down, uncomfortable. “Your mom went through hell to have you. She was in a car accident, the hostage crisis, a bomb that trapped us in an elevator—we almost lost you both when you were born. She nearly died. And then when you were a month old, you were kidnapped, and we were both terrified out of our minds.” And one day, somehow, he’d have to find the words to explain everything else to Jake.

Jake wrinkled his nose. “I know. When Cam got nabbed by that Cyrus guy a few years ago, me and Aiden told him he could finally join the club since both me and him were already kidnapped. But I’m still in the lead — three times,” he said, holding up three fingers.

Jason rubbed his face. “I’m glad you can joke about it,” he muttered.

“The Webber way,” Jake said. “Whatever doesn’t kill you, laugh at it so it doesn’t suck so much. Anyway. Right, I’m awesome, you and Mom both love me, and I didn’t mess up anything. How does that explain the stick up Sam’s ass?”

Jason considered his words carefully. “At the time you were born, Sam thought she couldn’t have children. We ended up breaking up again after you were born. We…I guess you could say we worked things out again a few years later, but I don’t think she never forgave me for having a son, your mother for giving me one, or you for existing.”

Elm Street Pier

It was a shame payphones didn’t exist anymore, Kristina thought, huddling by the stairs on the pier, ripping the plastic from the burner phone. She’d worn sunglasses, gone to a store she’d never gone to before, used cash, and still — there was always a chance they’d track this call down.

But — she thought — removing the phone from the package, and skimming the directions to activate it and use the limited calling plan she’d bought. They’d have to find the phone, and pretty soon, it’d be at the bottom of the harbor.

She fished her actual phone from her purse, scrolled through her files until she found the audio file she’d created using one of those stupid websites online. Maybe payphones would have made things easier, but technology did have one upside—

She dialed the tipline for the FBI, and when it connected, pressed play on her phone file. A voice came out that sounded exactly like that annoying twit, Amy Driscoll.

“Hello. I have a tip about the murder of that FBI guy. The one on Labor Day. I’m a nurse at GH, and I overheard my supervisor, Elizabeth Webber, talking with that mob guy she’s always with. Jason Morgan. She said that he didn’t need to worry. No one was ever  gonna look in her trunk, and when the smoke died down, he could get rid of the gun.”

She clicked off the audio, ended the call, then hurled the phone as far as she could into the harbor. She deleted the file from her phone, then hurled that, too.

Then hurried back to the parking lot and her car.

As soon the FBI found that gun in Elizabeth’s car and accused her of the murder, Kristina knew Jason would jump in to protect her. He’d do exactly what he’d done for Michael. Confess to a crime and go to jail.

Confessing meant waiving appeals. It would be over.

And everyone and everything could go back to normal.

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason’s Office

 Jake absorbed his father’s statement, squinting as he fit that theory into the puzzle. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. But it’s been years. I’m—you know—” He gestured at himself. “I’m basically an adult. And she got to have a kid with you. One that she’s royally fucking up, if you ask me. Danny’s ready to gnaw off his own leg to escape her. You gotta do something.”

“I wish I could,” Jason said, and when Jake scowled, his father continued, “It’s not that easy—”

“Well, it should be. And if you ask me, you downgraded hard when you and Mom broke up. She never treats Danny like she resents his entire, you know, existence. I always knew Sam didn’t like me, and I guess it makes sense, but can’t you tell her to get over it?”

“I could. But you said it yourself. Sam is doing her best to cut off contact, and I don’t like my options,” Jason added. “I’ve been trying to work with her because I don’t want to go to court. I’ve seen it happen with Michael and his brother when they were younger. I’ve done everything I can to avoid it. It’s complicated—”

“Uncomplicate it. Because this is screwing with me and Danny, okay? He’s my brother, and as annoying as the little shit is, I love him. And if you and me are going to see each other, she’s not gonna let him hang out with me anymore either. It’s stupid, Dad. Don’t you hate it.”

“Yeah. I do.” His dad sighed. “And you’re right. I’m going to call Diane. We’ll start talking about options.”

“Good. Thanks.” Jake let out a rush of air. “But I better get back to school before they figure out I’m not there, and Mom gets that look. You know the one, right? Where you’ve disappointed and made her sad all the same time, and you just wanna curl up and die?”

“I am familiar with it,” Jason said dryly, holding the door open for him.

“Diabolical. Uh—thanks.” Jake turned to him. “For, you know,  talking to me. Really talking to me. I’ve…missed it.”

“Me, too. Get back to school before I call your mom.”

Webber House: Living Room

She’d already washed the sheets. And changed the comforter. Which was ridiculous, Elizabeth thought, snatching her phone from the charger as she headed for the door again. Jason wouldn’t care about any of that — or the fact that she’d done her hair, adding those curls she knew he liked—

“This is ridiculous,” Elizabeth muttered, then plucked at the underwire of the lacy pink bra that she rarely pulled out of the draw. “I am an adult, and I should be acting like it—” Her phone beeped and she looked down at it, pulling up Jason’s texts.

Truck is here. I just have to sign.

She grinned. Don’t break any speed limits. She heard brakes in front of the house, looked up, confused because he couldn’t already be here—

And her heart stopped. An SUV had pulled up in front of her car, parked halfway across the street, blocking access. Another van came up behind it, and people started to get out, dressed in crime scene gear.

Numbly, Elizabeth went out to her front lawn, her phone still in her hand. “What—” she murmured as the FBI agent from Monday night got out of the SUV by her car. The crime scene techs were heading for her car.

“Ah, Miss Webber.” Agent Caldwell met her at the curb, handed her the warrant. “To search, and if necessary, seize your car.”

“My—” Her throat went dry. Elizabeth gripped the warrant, backed up to her doorway and frantically scrolled through her contacts until she found her lawyer.

“Elizabeth?”

“Diane, the FBI is at my house searching my car.”

The voice on the other end was quiet for a beat, then in a careful voice, Diane asked, “And do we think they’ll find anything?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then say nothing, let them search. Did they bring a warrant?”

“Yes.” They popped her trunk, and the ice was sliding through every single vein, her fingers starting to tremble.

“Okay. I’m getting my things together. I’ll be right over—”

They pulled out a box — no, a lock box, Elizabeth realized with horror. Just like —

“Diane, they found a box that looks like where Jason used to keep his gun. I think—oh, God, I think there’s a gun in my car.”

“What?” Diane demanded. “How the hell—”

“I don’t know, but I—” Her vision blurred slightly. “I have to hang up. They’re coming towards me. Um, can you call Jason. Someone has to be here—the boys. They won’t understand. Diane.”

“I’ll meet you at the PCPD. Say nothing without me, Elizabeth. Do you hear me? Say nothing—”

The phone fell to the ground, Elizabeth’s fingers boneless, barely listening as Caldwell began to recite her rights.

“You have the right to remain silent, the right…”

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