Written in 59 minutes.

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Friday, October 26, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“I’m glad you came by.” Sonny stepped back, allowed Jason to walk past him, then closed the door behind him. “I don’t like how it went on Monday. Like I said, I didn’t know you were involved already—”

“Even if I believed you—” Jason waited until Sonny had turned back and was facing him. “Even if I believed you,” he repeated, “that doesn’t explain why you didn’t call me. Talk to me first.”

Sonny lifted a shoulder, almost carelessly, then wandered over to the table that stretched beneath the windows overlooking downtown Port Charles. “I got out of the habit of that, you know. Last eight months. You haven’t been here—”

“Less than two weeks ago,” Jason said, “you sat across from me at Luke’s and told me the Sorel situation was mine to handle. He was bothering Luke, and he was connected to Zander. That was your idea, not mine, Sonny. If you’d wanted to fix your problems with Luke, that was your opportunity.”

Sonny picked up his coffee, sipped it. “Look, I said I screwed up. I don’t know why we have to go six rounds on this. What’s the difference? Either you handle it, or I do—and you weren’t handling it. Just because—”

“You don’t know what I was doing because you went around me.” Jason stopped, shook his head. “No, it doesn’t track. You didn’t call me after, either. The only reason I was there on Monday was Elizabeth and Emily. They both called me. You didn’t. You didn’t check with me, and you weren’t going to include me.”

“You want the truth?” Sonny lifted his brows. “I don’t need you. I thought I did, and I didn’t. And since you barely want to be here, it shouldn’t be an issue for you. This will get handled, and you can g0—” He made a gesture with his hand towards the door. “Wherever you want.”

I don’t need you.

The silence stretched out between them, the words lingering, the tension so thick that even Jason could feel it. What had he thought he’d accomplish by coming here? That Sonny’s apology would seem more genuine? That there’d be some hint of the man he’d thought was his best friend?

“You don’t need me,” Jason repeated, and Sonny dropped his gaze for a moment, then lifted it — but didn’t quite meet Jason’s eyes. “All right. Fine. I’m not going anywhere until I know for sure my sister and Elizabeth are clear. But we don’t have to pretend anymore, do we?”

“Wait. That—” Sonny took a step forward. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it—”

“That doesn’t make it any less true. You told me last winter that now I know who you are,” Jason said, and Sonny fell silent, his hands clutched around his coffee cup so tightly that his knuckles were white. “You were right. I needed to know. And now I do.”

“Jason—”

But Jason was already out the door. He didn’t slam it shut after him, but Sonny flinched when it closed all the same.

Port Charles Municipal Building: Dara Jensen’s Office

Dara tapped her pen against the desk, skimming the notes she’d hastily scribbled during the interrogation that morning, going over it again—and again. And then again.

“You don’t buy it.”

Dara looked up, met the curious expression from Marcus Taggert in her doorway, then sat back, tossing her pen aside. “Do you?”

“No reason not to, I guess.” He sat down, removed one coffee from the holder in his hand. He slid it across the table slightly, and she took it, but didn’t drink. “It wraps up a few loose ends. Makes that connection we needed between Smith and Wilson.”

“And he just…shows up in the squad room,” Dara said. She peeled back the tab on her coffee cup, made a face. “I just…I don’t have a reason to doubt it, except—”

“Except it doesn’t feel right,” Taggert finished, and she nodded. “I hear you. It’s too neat. We needed a connection, and one showing up like it’s Christmas—I don’t like it.”

“That being said,” Dara said slowly, “there’s no reason to throw out the statement. Not yet. Joe Stevens. You come across him in the investigation?”

“No, but most of the rave rats didn’t exactly stick around the night we found the body. We figure maybe fifty to sixty people got away without us knowing. I’ve got some of my guys canvassing the witnesses again with Stevens’ statement. If he was a regular at the raves—”

“Then I’d feel better. A good Samaritan seeing Smith’s picture in the paper and being a good citizen? I’m too jaded to believe it. Not without more. Corroboration.” Dara tipped her head. “But if you had to guess right now, Marcus, just between us?”

Taggert considered it for a long time, then looked at Dara. “The story Smith was peddling? Or trying to? About Emily Quartermaine framing him, putting the body in his car? I didn’t think twice. He’d tried to manipulate her during the kidnapping, and when it didn’t stick, he tried to make it her fault. No reason to think Emily was more than someone in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He sipped his coffee. “But you tell her last week that the case against Smith is in trouble, that he’s trying to tie her to it, and now we’ve got a magical witness that solves our major problem? Makes a guy think.”

“Devil’s advocate,” Dara said. “If we consider that there’s something to Smith’s account, it’s not like Emily doesn’t have connections to pull this off. Between her brother and Nikolas Cassadine—”

“Sure, maybe she’s got the connections but I don’t see the why. I don’t.” Taggert furrowed his brow. “I’d be more willing to think she told her brother the way things were going and maybe Corinthos or Morgan are trying to make the case get over faster. Emily went through some hell, and it wasn’t exactly her first time. Morgan’s got one slightly redeemable quality, Dara. And it’s how much he loves his baby sister.”

“So Smith’s story is bullshit, but we still might get Jason Morgan on witness tampering?” Dara asked. “Maybe Christmas came early after all.”

Hardy House: Elizabeth’s Bedroom

“I just can’t understand why a simple thing like one’s birth certificate has become such a disaster,” Audrey told her granddaughter, setting down a laundry basket next to Elizabeth’s half-packed suitcase. “And I have half a mind to go with you to Memphis and tell Steven exactly what I think about him not returning your phone calls.”

“Gram—” Elizabeth picked through the basket, pulling a few pieces. “As much as I’d enjoy that, I think—” She looked at her grandmother. “No, I know that this is something I have to do on my own.”

“I just wish you’d told me you were having this problem, darling. I’d have been on the phone with your brother and sister, or trying to help you get your parents in contact — or I would have gone to Colorado myself to sort this out. You should not be dealing with this when you’re starting a new job.” Audrey sat at Elizabeth’s desk, the chair twisted around so that it faced the bed. “When you’ve been through so much.”

She knew her grandmother was referring to Lucky and the tumultuous end to their relationship. Elizabeth sighed, sat on the edge of her bed, stared at the carpet. “I didn’t think it was a problem at first, Gram. You know, the state was making a mistake, or maybe I had something wrong. I just…I thought I’d call Sarah or Steven, and they’d tell me where Mom and Dad kept these kinds of things. I thought, at worst, I’d have to go to the storage place in Colorado and dig around. But then Sarah blew me off, and Steven hasn’t even bothered to call me back, not even to leave a message—”

She bit her lip, turned so that one leg was on the bed and she was looking at her grandmother again. “I know you don’t like Jason, and I’m not trying to change that. But Emily’s never had to do more than ask him for help, and he’s right there. No matter what it is. And Lucky resents his parents for reasons that aren’t…entirely wrong. But that doesn’t matter. They’d still show up for him. I know I have you, Gram, and I’m grateful—”

“But it’s not the same as having one of your siblings or your parents step up,” Audrey said, and Elizabeth nodded. “It isn’t. But their failures, Elizabeth, aren’t yours to carry. Family is about far more than merely blood. Take your Emily. She was adopted, you know that. Not at one or two years old, but as a child with memories of where she came from. As a whole person. The Quartermaines, for all their faults, opened their hearts to that little girl, and now I cannot imagine them without her. And nor could they. And Jason? He found it so difficult to connect with every person that was related to him by blood. But he’s made Emily his sister all over again.”

Elizabeth swiped at her eyes, impatient with the tears building. “Emily’s lucky—”

“She is. Your grandfather? Loved my Tommy all his life. Adopted him and made him a Hardy. You and your sister and your brother —” Audrey came to sit next to Elizabeth, reached for her hand. “Your father isn’t my blood, but that doesn’t matter. Family comes in all shapes and forms, my dear. Sometimes you’re fortunate enough that you don’t have to look further than your own home for that family. But families are made through choice and love every day of the week. Your siblings, your parents — they are poorer for not making that choice, Elizabeth.” Audrey swept Elizabeth’s hair behind her ear. “My life is far richer and more interesting because you are my family. And look at what Emily is doing for you. Because she loves you. And you’d do the same for her.”

“I would if I could.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, nodded. “You’re right. I know you are.”

“Up here maybe,” Audrey said, tapping Elizabeth’s temple lightly. Then she pressed two fingers against Elizabeth’s chest. “And one day your heart will catch up.” She hugged Elizabeth, kissing her cheek. “You and Emily, you go to Memphis, and you drag the information out of your brother. Or I’ll be on the next flight. You tell him that, Elizabeth.”

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