Written in 69 minutes. I needed a little bit of time to finish the last scene — I wanted this to feel like a middle-of-the-night chapter, so I didn’t want to leave anything for the next part.

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Tuesday, October 1, 2024

Webber House: Jake’s Bedroom

The house had fallen quiet hours earlier, but Jake didn’t think anyone had actually managed to fall asleep. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, dimly making out the long faded stars he’d painted when they’d moved in eight years ago.

Beside him, he could hear Cameron’s breathing — but it wasn’t slow and even, signaling his older brother hadn’t been able to rest either.

“Are you really going back to California on Wednesday?”

Cameron shifted, the sheets rustling. “Yeah. I promised Mom I would. As soon as I sign the guardianship agreement.”

Jake sat up, drawing his knees towards his chest. “You think my dad’s going to leave again?”

Cameron sat up, too, but neither of them turned on a light, their outlines dimly visible through the streaks of moonlight filtering through the windows. “He made a good point tonight. The Feds want him more than Mom. He’s just as likely to be arrested tomorrow as she is to lose her bail. And then where are we? Danny gets shipped back to his mom,  you and Aiden with Grandma Laura?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that,” Cameron muttered. He was quiet for a moment. “I think something is different about him. I believe him when he says he’s staying. I believe that he wants it to be the truth.”

“That’s still not a no.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Jake. Jason’s made a career of dipping in and out of Mom’s life. I remember a lot more than you do. He comes around, Mom’s happy, and then he goes. And they do this every few years. But this is the first time I can remember them being…” Cameron hesitated. “Romantic, I guess. The last time was before he got snatched the Cassadines. When you were…”

“Still dead,” Jake answered. He wrapped his arms around his legs. “You’re right. I know that. I said the same thing when he came home, and I avoided him as much I as could, you know? Wasn’t going to depend on him again. And now…”

“Now we don’t have a choice. Because Mom’s right, you know. As much as I want to be here, to be with you guys — whoever is doing this to her doesn’t get to destroy our lives, too. Because then this asshole wins. So I got what I wanted — I know you and Aiden will have a backup if something changes with your dad. I get to be here tomorrow. And Mom will get to have a little victory, too. I’ll go back to Stanford with more frequent visits.” Cameron leaned towards Jake, their shoulders bumping. “And you’re applying to that school in Spain.”

“You can barely be three thousand miles away, and I’m supposed to go six thousand?” Jake demanded. “No. There are programs closer—”

“You’re living the dream Mom gave up for me. For us,” Cameron clarified. “She wanted to be an artist. She’s made it possible for both us to do what we’ve already dreamed about. We’re going to do it.”

There was a light knock on the door, and then it opened. A head peeked around the edge, and Jake could make out the form of his younger brother. He sighed. “You can’t sleep either?”

“No, and—” Aiden came in, gestured towards the hallway with Danny following him in. “Neither can he. I found him in the hallway.”

“I was getting a drink of water,” Danny muttered.

“I’ll get the sleeping bags,” Cameron said, sliding off the bed.

Penthouse: Hallway

Sam’s fingers drifted along the wall as she walked from her bedroom towards the stairs, lingering on Danny’s room, then Scout’s. Both doors were closed — and had been since they’d last been home.

Had it really been two weeks since that awful night at the police station? Sam closed her eyes, trying to bring back the memory of that night, before the call in the middle of the night. Curled up on the sofa next to Dante, trying to cheer up Kristina. Scout in her room, Danny at his brother’s — or so she’d thought.

There hadn’t been a moment’s peace since that night, Sam thought. She opened her eyes, twisted the knob and stepped inside Scout’s room. It was neat — Scout always liked to clean it before she left for her father’s. She should have been home over a week ago,  and instead neither of her kids were coming home for months.

Sam sat on Scout’s bed, her fingertips  tracing a pattern in the lace. Tomorrow, she’d get to talk to Danny’s doctor for the first time, and she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Kristina wanted Sam to stand up for herself, and there was a part of Sam that thought Kristina was right. That Sam deserved a chance to tell her side—

But then she’d remembered her mother’s harsh words and the look on Danny’s face. Every time Sam had tried to do that lately, it had been a mistake. She’d thought she finally make Danny understand how furious she was by walking out of the police station — only Jason had seized that opportunity to be the good father.

How was the fair? He’d always been the good guy who got to come in for special occasions, overnight visits, and holidays. She’d had the brunt of the work, hadn’t she? The good and the bad. She’d had to be play the cop, the executioner — and Danny treated her like she was the enemy.

But this doctor might end up testifying in the next hearing. And Sam needed him to be on her side. She should have done more research, should have looked him up. She could have figured out the right thing to do say if she treated him like a mark, like the idea old days.

Sam laid down on Scout’s bed, pulling the pink, lacy pillow towards her. She just had to find the right angle to make the doctor understand that Sam wasn’t the bad guy — that she was just trying to make sure Danny knew who Elizabeth really was — someone who couldn’t be trusted. That was her job, wasn’t it? To protect her son from people who would hurt him.

Somehow she’d make him understand. She’d make him see what she did.

Webber House: Elizabeth’s Bedroom

Elizabeth carefully closed the door, then slid back into bed next to Jason. “I heard a door close upstairs,” she told him, pulling the blanket up to her waist. “I think Aiden went up there.”

“Probably can’t sleep.” Jason sat up, then pulled Elizabeth against him, tucking her into his embrace so his arm was securely around her. “They’ll want to go tomorrow.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes for a moment, though sleep was no closer for her now than it had been when they’d heard Aiden’s door open just down the hall. “I won’t fight them on it. I don’t want them there, but if that prosecutor wants to put me back in jail, the judge should get to see how that hurts my family.”

He stroked her arm, his finger tips dancing lightly from her shoulder towards her elbow, then back again. “I thought about calling Spinelli again, just to see  there was anything he could tell us. Anything I could do. Even if it was just answering questions again. It’s hard to believe he doesn’t know anything yet. That Sonny doesn’t know anything.”

“Well, you were usually the one who found things out for Sonny,” Elizabeth reminded him, and he sighed. “He’s never been able to replace you. No one he trusts nearly as much. As for Spinelli —” she furrowed her  brow. “I got the feeling there are leads he just doesn’t want to share. Which I hate, but I respect that he and Diane are doing everything they can to make the evidence admissible. I just miss the days when you could punch someone and wrap it up in a few days.”

“So do I,” he said dryly, and she laughed lightly, surprising herself. Then she sighed and sat up, the sheeting pooling back to her waist.

“It’s so frustrating to not know anything,” she complained. “At least if one of us were involved, we could have some…I don’t know…” She waved her hand. “Something to do. We could argue about how we’re going to get away with it or where we’re going to run, or I don’t know—you not doing something stupid like you did with Michael—” She saw Jason wince and she furrowed her brow. “Jason?”

“I—” He sighed, then sat up a little more straight. “I did talk to Sonny. I can’t confess to Cates, but—”

“But you were going to confess to something?” she interrupted. “Jason—”

“It’s—” Jason slid out of bed, went towards the window by the night stand, then looked back at her. “The Feds hate me for Pikeman going wrong—”

“That’s their problem. They’re the idiots who can’t find Valentine, not you—”

“If I had turned over the name when I found out, if I hadn’t let Anna talk me into waiting—” He grimaced, looked out the window. “I thought about confessing to that. To letting him escape. They could charge me as an accessory. They’d get some blood for that—”

“Jason.”

“I thought about it,” he repeated. “But I’m not going to do it.”

“Why did you even—” She shoved back the sheets and got to her feet. “How could you even consider it? After already being gone—”

“They’re going after you because of me,” Jason told her. “What you and the boys are going through—”

“People have been going after me because of you for more than twenty years, Jason. I’m used to it. Why do you think your absence would make this better? Why do you always think the people who love you are better off when you’re not there?”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it. “Everyone’s got questions today,” he muttered, looking back towards the window. “Danny’s doctor. He thinks Danny resents me because I waited so long to go to court. That trying to be fair to everyone made it worse. What does that do for Danny, being fair to his mother when she’s being unfair to both of us?” he bit out. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know if any of you are better when I’m around. But I’ve tried it the other  way for years, and it hasn’t worked.”

She folded her arms, not mollified by his answer at all. “Oh. Well in that case, I guess that makes everything better—” Elizabeth turned away, irritated beyond measure, but he reached out, snagging her by the elbow and tugging until she was facing him.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. He stroked both hands down her arms, from shoulder to elbow to her wrists, bring her hands to his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry, Jason. I just want you to be here. I want you to want to be here.” Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out. “And now you’re telling me that you were thinking of a way to leave us again. To leave me and your sons. We just got you back. You were—I thought you were dead.”

Jason didn’t have an answer for that. He just leaned his forehead against hers.

“And I know it’s not because you don’t love us. I know how much you love Jake and Danny. I know that. But I’m tired of pleading with you to see how much we need you. I’ve spent my life doing that, Jason. For longer than I can remember, I’ve been standing in front of you, begging you to stay. It’s exhausting, and I don’t want to do it again. I don’t wake Jake and Danny to spend their lives doing it either.”

“I don’t want it either,” he managed.

“Then look at me — I mean it —” She touched his jaw, gently pushing until he raised his head so their eyes met. “You cannot solve our problems by removing yourself from the equation. You cannot make me, or Jake or Danny, or any one you love better by not being here.  We are not better without you. You need to believe me. I need you to believe me.”

“I’m—I do believe you—” He stopped, took a deep breath. “I know that’s true. You’ve told me that, over and over. But it’s hard to accept that I can bring you anything but pain.”

“The only pain you’ve ever caused me is when you leave,” Elizabeth said. Her eyes searched his. “So don’t do it.”

“I’m not going to.” He turned his head slightly in her grasp, kissed the inside of her palm, then drew it around her neck, pulling her against him. “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. Not ever again.”

Pozzulo’s Restaurant: Office

Sonny flipped on the switch, casting off the shadows and illuminating his office. He hadn’t been able to sleep, and something had kept nagging at him, keeping him from slumber.

He’d come to the restaurant, thinking he’d find something he’d left unsigned or paperwork that needed to be destroyed, but looking around the room — it wasn’t that. So what had been nagging at him?

This is the second time she’s left her phone somewhere this month

The exchange with Spinelli flitted across his consciousness, and Sonny looked at the desk, saw Kristina’s phone. He’d put it in pocket at the diner, then he’d forgotten about it by the time he got back to the restaurant.

He walked over, picked it up, turning it over in his hands. She’d lost her phone a few weeks ago, Sonny thought. She’d been annoyed and complaining about it after their family breakfast — and she’d already been irritated that day, remarking on how little anyone seemed to care about her charges. When Michael had taken Donna and Avery home afterwards, Kristina had remained and pulled out her new phone. It had just been replaced because she’d left her old one somewhere, she didn’t remember where.

Sonny lifted his eyes to the painting that hid his safe. Where he knew one of his guns had gone missing. Few people had the combination, but he hadn’t really cared — it wasn’t where he kept the most important documents. He’d wondered if someone from his organization had taken out Cates with the missing gun —

But he remembered now that there’d been a tip delivered by phone that had triggered the search of Elizabeth’s car. And then Kristina had replaced her phone. After complaining everyone cared too much about Elizabeth’s charges.

No. No. It was just what he’d thought all along. Someone had stolen the gun from his office, someone trying to look good in the organization. Or maybe his gun wasn’t the murder weapon at all. It was a coincidence.

Stupid to think Kristina had done this — that she’d framed Elizabeth like this. Kristina didn’t have a reason to hurt Elizabeth or try to force Jason into anything. Jason had spent his life taking care of Sonny’s kids. They wouldn’t turn on him like this.

He’d call Spinelli, though, and tell him about the gun. That was the right thing to do.

Sonny exhaled slowly, set Kristina’s phone back on his desk, then switched off the light and left.

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