Written in 68 minutes. The cat and I had a disagreement about napping with her head on my number keys, lol, so it took a minute.

Harborview Towers: Security Suite

Jason watched the video again,  studying every line of the image on the screen, looking for anywhere on Sonny’s body he could be hiding the gun—

But there was no bulge at his back where he might have tucked it, the trousers he wore had no strangely shaped pockets, and nothing was in his hands.

“I need to talk to Courtney,” Jason said. When Justus started shaking his head, Jason scowled. “Okay, then you need to talk to her. She was the first person to see him directly after he came back—she comes through the lobby maybe ten minutes after he gets here. She knows where she got the damned gun—”

“Why can’t Jason talk to Courtney?” Mike asked, his brows drawn together. “What’s—” He stopped. “Wait. What do you mean she had the gun? I thought the police had it.” Realization rippled across his expression. “Oh, hell—”

“Courtney is one of the witnesses,” Justus confirmed, and Courtney’s father just closed his eyes. “The other is Ric.”

“Ric—No, no, that’s not—” Mike shook his head. “There must be some mistake. Because if Courtney and Ric are both pointing the finger at Jason, then they’d need to be working together, and that’s just not—Christ.” He turned away, dragged a hand through his hair.

A phone rang on the other side of the suite, and Max went to answer it. Jason focused on Mike. “I know this is a lot to take in. I’m sorry—but Ric and Courtney were in contact before that night. She was giving him Elizabeth’s schedule.”

“She—” Mike faced Jason, stricken. “She gave Elizabeth’s schedule to that monster? That’s how he knew when to show up to bother her? Christ. Nikolas said something about that—why would she go to him? Over you? Over the affair?” he demanded.

Jason nodded grimly. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize—don’t—if she’d—” Mike fisted his hand in front of him. “She had a right to be angry with you, to maybe even want some revenge. But Ric Lansing—that’s—no, there’s a mistake.”

“Well, we won’t know anything until we talk to Courtney,” Justus said. “And Mike, you’d be a lot of help in that area.”

“Whatever you need, sure.”

Max came back to Jason, holding the cordless phone in his hand. “Jase, Wally at the front desk—he says the Baldwin and the commissioner  need to talk to you.”

Jason opened his mouth to send him away, but stopped. Remembered the call Mac had received at the courthouse, Scott’s expression when he’d learned whatever Mac knew. He nodded. “Send them back here.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Justus warned, but Max was already lifting the phone to his ear. “Jason—”

“Something happened at the courthouse. Before they left, Mac got a call, and he looked surprised. Not just surprised. Flattened. He hurried Scott out of there. And now, half an hour later, they’re here? I want to know what they want,” Jason said.

“Okay, but they do all the talking,” Justus said.

“Should I go?” Mike wanted to know. “I can go track down Courtney—”

Before Jason could agree, there was a knock on the door, and Max twisted the knob. Mac came in, followed by Scott. The two of them looked around at the group in the security office, and Jason saw Mac’s eyes focus on the image on the screen. On the image of Courtney in the lobby.

“That the night of the shooting?” Mac asked gesturing.

“Yeah.” Jason folded his arms. “What do you want?”

“Actually—” Scott scratched his cheek. “It’s a good thing Mike is here. We—we were going to see you next.”

“Is this about Kelly’s? Do you need to get more time in the courtyard?” Mike asked, coming forward.

Jason saw the way Mac and Scott looked at each other, and his stomach dipped. “What happened? You got called away from the courthouse. Why?”

“Yeah, I did. By the manager at the Port Charles Hotel. Courtney checked in there a few days ago,” Mac said. He looked at Mike, angled his body towards him, and Jason knew—he knew what was coming next.

And it still hit like a ton of bricks when the words were spoken. “I’m sorry, Mike. We were called there to report a murder. Courtney. She’s gone.”

Hardy House: Living Room

“I was going crazy at the mansion,” Emily said, accepting the cup of tea Audrey handed her. “We can’t move into the cottage yet, but they refused to let Zander stay in the house. And don’t make that look.”

“I’m not.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “You should still be in isolation—”

“I can’t go to the hospital, no. But I can get in a car and come here where there’s only you and your grandmother. I just needed to see you. To see for myself that you were okay. And I thought Jason would be here—I thought he was bailed out.”

“He went to handle a few things.” Elizabeth picked up the glass of water, a bit awkwardly. It was difficult to handle things with her left hand. “The first priority is finding out what happened that night so that he can get these ridiculous charges dismissed.”

“Grandfather was the on the phone as soon as we got home, I left him yelling at the phone at some congressman.”

“Representative Boehlert,” Audrey said, taking a seat in the arm chair. “I have a call of my own into that office,” she told a surprised Elizabeth. “Your grandfather had a lot of friends, darling. And I’m not above using my own network. You’ve been through something so terrible, and you should have Jason at your side, not off fighting for his freedom.”

Emily furrowed her brow. “Wait. I missed something.”

“Gram has turned over a new leaf and is now Jason is her favorite person,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile. “Mostly because he keeps telling me to rest—”

“And he’s the only person you’ll listen to,” Audrey said, lifting her chin. “Speaking of that, Emily, you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, but—”

“I know, I know, I promised I’d lay down and nap.” Elizabeth offered Emily a smile. “I’m sorry—”

“No, no, you need to take care of my future nibling.” Emily leaned forward, kissed her cheek and hugged her lightly. “I have a leash of my own, but we won’t be down for long. Trust Jason to get this sorted out. I know it sucks to let him deal with it, but there’s a reason I should have called Jason all the times I got into trouble. Can you imagine how much trouble it would have saved us both?”

Harborview Towers: Security Suite

Mike took a step back, reached out with his hand, braced himself against the wall. “What? What are you saying right now?”

“Courtney was shot sometime between two and two-thirty this afternoon,” Mac said. “I’m sorry, Mike. I don’t know if it helps, it probably doesn’t. But she—it was quick. She didn’t suffer.”

“Christ. Christ. My baby? My baby is dead—” Mike’s knees started to buckle, and both Jason and Justus came forward, helped him to sit down.

Courtney was dead. Murdered. Jason found his hand trembling slightly as he put it on Mike’s shoulder, looked back at Mac and Scott. No wonder they’d looked so damned upset at the courthouse. “That’s only an hour ago.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Around twenty minutes after the judge set bail.” Scott cleared his throat and put up a hand when Justus opened his mouth. “That’s not me saying anything about—obviously, we know where you were, Morgan.”

“The thing is—” Mac rested his hands on the back of the chair that sat in front of the row of cameras. “Scott told you that arresting you was just a ploy to make Ric and Courtney think we believed them. I thought it was a stupid plan,” he added, shooting Scott a dirty look. “But he meant it when he said we know what happened at Kelly’s wasn’t you.”

“We thought it was Sonny,” Scott forced him. “We heard some rumors that he wasn’t altogether in his right head. With Lansing being the obvious target—” He scrubbed both hands on his face. “But we don’t know what the hell is happening. Because I’d say a lot about Corinthos, but this? No. No. This wasn’t him.”

No, it wasn’t, Jason thought, and that realization had him taking a seat of his own, his mind racing. It wasn’t Sonny that night in the courtyard, and it hadn’t been Sonny killing his own sister. That only left one obvious suspect, but why would Lorenzo Alcazar go to any of this kind of trouble? What was the point? How did it help—and why would he leave witnesses—

Witnesses he might now be eliminating.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Jason said, almost more to himself. He lifted his gaze to Mac’s. “Courtney and Ric’s story didn’t make sense. And it wouldn’t have matched the evidence. Elizabeth doesn’t remember who shot her, but she sure as hell knew Courtney wasn’t there—”

“But killing her eliminates that problem. Now she’s just a dead witness.” Justus winced. “I’m sorry, that’s—”

“It’s accurate,” Mike managed. “She got herself in trouble somehow. Got twisted up with that monster, lied to get revenge on Jason. So stupid,” he bit out. “So stupid to tell such an obvious lie. So why do this? Why—”

“Because you believed her,” Jason said, and Mac frowned, looked at him. “That’s what the world thinks. No one knows that you kept investigating. I just don’t understand—if killing her was supposed to frame me further, why didn’t they wait?”

“She was found almost two hours before she would have been,” Scott said.  “The maid reversed her schedule. Time of death would have been harder to pinpoint.” He looked at Mac. “And the crime scene tech said something—”

“They put the air on,” Mac murmured. “It would have messed with—it would have made it harder. Jason—arresting you to get to Sonny—that was stupid. But—”

“I thought it was him,” Jason said softly.

“Jason—” Justus began, but Jason shook his head.

“We can’t keep doing this. I can’t—someone is eliminating witnesses. They went for Courtney first because she was alone. You should put people on Ric in the hospital because he’ll be next. And—Carly, she’s in a coma. Elizabeth—” He looked at Max. “The house—”

“We got people on it. As soon as we found out Miss Webber was being discharged, Jase. I knew you’d want her to be top priority,” Max assured him.

But Jason wanted to be there, wanted to see for himself. But first—he got to his feet. “I thought it was Sonny,” he repeated. “Just like you did. He’s been having hallucinations. Struggling with staying in the current time and place. And he went missing during the time period we knew the shooting happened.”

“It might still be Sonny,” Scott said. “But—”

“You said Courtney gave you a gun registered to me. I don’t know where she got it. I don’t know anything about it. But Sonny—” Jason went over to the keyboard by the cameras, pressed a few keys to rewind the footage. “He was back here less than ten minutes after the 911 call. And he doesn’t have a gun on him. So where did Courtney get it?”

“Ten minutes from the pier to the Towers is…a very tight schedule. Was he on foot?” Mac wanted to know.

“I think so. We were just realizing it ourselves that it couldn’t be him. I wanted to talk to Courtney. She comes in just a little while later. Max—”

“She was upset. I think Mr. C was rough on her. She ran out of here, crying. But she came back later. Twice,” Max added. “Wally could confirm it. The first time, he told her about the cops coming by, and she left. Then she came back.”

“To get the gun?” Scott asked Mac who nodded. “Okay. Okay. Well, we can’t ask her whatever she might have known. So—” He looked at Jason. “Who else might have done this? You have to have a name in mind.”

Jason hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I do. But I don’t understand how or why he’d have done this.” He waited another beat. “Lorenzo Alcazar.”

General Hospital: Carly’s Room

Bobbie sighed in relief. “The swelling has gone done?”

Tony nodded, looked down at the chart again, flipped through a page. “The edema has almost entirely resolved itself. I expect that to continue to subside throughout today. She’s scoring a six on the Glascow Scale—that’s up from a 4 when she first came in,” he reminded her. “She’s responsive to pain, and her eyelids are starting to flutter.”

She looked back at her daughter, still quiet and still, before facing Tony again. “When she wakes up, do we know—”

“We won’t know anything until we can speak with her, Bobbie. But this is a good sign. An excellent,” he corrected.

“Thank you. Thank you.” She pressed trembling fingers to her lips. “I know how hard this is for you—”

“She’s just a patient, Bobbie. Your daughter. That’s all that matters to me right.” Tony touched her elbow. “I wouldn’t wish losing another child on anyone. I’m relieved to be delivering good news.”

“Thank you, I—” Bobbie paused, reached for the cell phone vibrating in her phone. “Hello?”

“Bobbie,” Jason began. “We have a problem.”

When she closed the phone, she looked back at Tony. “Can you keep this to yourself?”

“Keep what?” Tony asked, frowning. “Is everything all right—”

“It will be. But Carly’s improvement, the odds of her waking up—can you keep that quiet? Because something has just happened, and I don’t want anyone to know Carly might wake up and tell anyone what happened. It’s life or death, Tony. Promise me.”

“I promise, but I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

“I will, I just—” Bobbie took a seat, took a breath. “Everything I thought I knew only an hour ago has turned upside down, and I don’t know if I can make sense of any of it.”

Hardy House: Living Room

“Oh, Jason, Elizabeth will be so pleased you’re here.” Audrey stepped back, allowed Jason to enter the house. “You missed a visit from your sister, but it was definitely a boost to Elizabeth’s mood.”

“Emily has that way about her,” Jason said. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, still unsure what to do with Elizabeth’s grandmother being supportive or kind to him. “Is—Elizabeth in the kitchen or—”

“Of course, you must be worried about her. She went upstairs to rest, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you went up. Let her know I’ll have dinner ready soon, but not to hurry herself.” She patted Jason’s arm. “Upstairs, third door on the left. Her room overlooks the front of the house, if that helps.”

Jason climbed the steps, and found the right door. He knocked first, and when there was no answer, he went inside, exhaling a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding in. Maybe some part of him had expected something else when he opened the door — maybe to find Elizabeth on the floor or worse, not in the room.

But she was laying on her back, her right arm still set in the sling. She’d changed after court, into a pair of long gray pants and blue shirt. Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling in a regular pattern.

She was safe. Sleeping.

He pulled out the chair that was tucked beneath a desk just at the end of the bed, and sat down. He might have a thousand things to do, but right now, in this moment, all he wanted to do was be alone, in the quiet, watching Elizabeth breathe.

Port Charles Harbor

The sleek white yacht had been anchored in the harbor for a few weeks now, and it reminded many of the dock workers of a similiar ship that had been docked a year earlier. That had been named La Venganza — and most had wondered at anyone who’d name their vessel revenge.

This yacht did not have such an ominous name—it was more innocuous, more optimistic, more common. Carpe Diem. Seize the day.

A man strolled outside one of the decks, a cigar in his hand. His dark eyes scanned the shoreline, wondering if his present had been located yet. If his quarry knew that game had changed.

Of course, they wouldn’t know the true purpose of any of this. How could they? They thought had all the answers. All the necessary facts—and they did.

He was here for revenge. He did wish to avenge his brother. That poor bastard.

There was just one problem with that theory.

“Señor?”

When the first call didn’t work, the woman tried again. “Señor Alcazar? Will you want dinner?”

“Yes, Marta.” He turned to smile at her, his teeth bared. “I find myself starving.”

And this that, Luis Alcazar tossed his cigar overboard and went inside.

+29

I couldn’t get the last line exactly the way I wanted it, but I’m way over time, lol. Happy Friday! Written in 72 minutes.

Hardy House: Elizabeth’s Bedroom

Elizabeth murmured something, then shifted, trying to roll on her side, then wincing when she bumped her injured shoulder. She clutched her shoulder with her left hand, starting to sit up—and then she felt an arm at her back, a warmth at her side.

“Careful, don’t sit up too fast—” Jason said, sitting on the edge of her bed, bracing her against his chest. She leaned back for just a moment, resting her head against his jaw, closing her eyes.

“Hey.” She set her hand along the one he’d wrapped around her waist, the button down shirt he’d worn to court cool against her fingers. “You’re here. What time is it?”

“I don’t—almost six.” Jason brushed his lips against her temple. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Still tired.” Elizabeth opened her eyes, shifted to set her feet on the ground, her toes curling into the carpet. She touched his jaw. “Have you eaten or—”

“Not yet. I will.”

She exhaled slowly, then rubbed the side of her face. “You went to the Towers. How—how did that go?” When Jason didn’t say anything right away, Elizabeth frowned, focused on him. “Jason?”

“I didn’t get upstairs to talk to Sonny. I wanted to check the security footage first, and then—” He leaned over, switched on the lamp next to her bed, flooding the room with soft light. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Why did you want the security footage?”

“I wanted to know if it was Sonny. If—” Jason grimaced, looked away. He leaned forward, bracing his elbow on his knee, then dragged his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted information. When, where, how, who—I don’t know if Sonny did this. I can’t see how he could have made it back in time, and the gun the court said they have—it’s not with him. So—”

“So how did Courtney get it to turn in?” Elizabeth finished. “I guess that’s a question for her—” As she spoke, Jason looked at her, and there was something in his eyes, something that sent a chill down her spine. “What happened?”

“She’s dead.”

The words hung in the air, suspended between them, and Elizabeth couldn’t wrap her head around them. Couldn’t make sense of it. “I don’t—what do you mean, dead? What are you talking about?”

Jason sat up, then pushed himself to his feet. He went to the window, pushed aside the sheer curtain and looked out over the front lawn. Then he finally looked at her. “After I made bail, someone went to the hotel and shot her. She’s dead.”

“Oh my—” Elizabeth pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God. Oh my God. What is going on?”

“I don’t—” He faltered, shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Elizabeth rose slowly, putting her free hand on the sling to brace herself, then went to him. “Jason.”

“I thought I knew what was happening. What was going on. The idea that Sonny did this—” Jason looked at her, and she saw the anguish now, the uncertainty. “That was hard enough, but I could make that work in my head. He’d never have hurt you or Carly. But—I don’t know what’s going on with the gun. And Courtney—was she just another way to frame me? Why?”

He looked back out over the street, and Elizabeth wrapped her one arm around his chest, rested her forehead against his back, wished with everything she had that she could wrap both arms around him. To give some comfort. Until a week ago, he’d been trying to make things work with Courtney. She’d been his fiancee. And then she’d tried to frame him for attempted murder, working with his enemy to do so—and now she was dead.

“It seems impossible that all of this has happened in the space of a week.” He turned and her hand slid down to rest on his chest. She lifted her gaze to his. “A week ago, I was standing in the alley at Kelly’s, telling you I was pregnant. And for just a moment, just one single moment, everything was perfect. The world and its complications—none of that it existed. It was just you and me, and this amazing secret we shared.” She took his hand, brought it to her abdomen, his fingers curling slightly. “I know it’s all gone to hell since then. Somehow it all got so much worse, but I just—I think if we both just take a breath, and let that moment back in—we can get through this. Whatever this is. Because it hasn’t changed. Our baby—you and me? That’s all still okay. We’re all still here.”

She felt the tension melt from his body and he lifted her chin up, captured her mouth for a brief caress with his lips. Just long enough to bring that memory back, that sense of peace. Then he pulled her against him, and they stood there, letting the world settle around them.

“I’m sorry about Courtney. Whatever her faults, whatever her plans, she didn’t deserve this.” She lightly stroked his back, then stepped away so that their eyes could meet. “What happens next?”

He rubbed his eyes. “Scott and Mac—I told them about Sonny. What we thought had happened. They’re going to confront Ric, I guess. If someone is eliminating witnesses, he’s next. Bobbie’s with Carly, and I sent over some extra guards. I put more people here.” Jason paused. “I have to go back to the Towers. I have a doctor who can see Sonny, but I have to—I have to talk to Sonny.”

“Okay. Then I’m going with you—” Elizabeth said, and when he opened his mouth, she raised one single finger. “I can rest across the hall and wait for you. But I don’t want you to do this alone. Let me be here for you in any way I can. Please.”

“All right,” Jason agreed. He kissed her forehead. “All right. Let’s go.”

General Hospital: Hallway

Scott stopped after rounding the corner, and Capelli bumped into his back. “Oh, that can’t be good,” he said.

“What—” Capelli focused on the hospital room a few steps away, grimaced. There were no officers—and they could see from here with the door partially open, that the room was empty. “Oh, hell.”

The detective spun on his heel and headed for the front desk, Scott just behind him. “Hey. Hey. What happened to the Patient in 1303?” Capelli demanded, smacking his palm against the counter.

A harried nurse came over, rolled her eyes. “Don’t you guys ever talk to each other? He’s been transferred to Mercy just like the order said—”

“What order?” Scott demanded. “He was under guard—”

The nurse hesitated, sensing the tension. “Two cops came. They showed the order to me and the doctor, and then to the cops on duty. They left, and the patient was transported in the police car. We had all the paperwork—”

“Damn it. Damn it.” Scott grimaced. “Where the hell is that son of a bitch?”

General Hospital: Morgue

A few floors down, Mac watched as Mike prepared himself to go inside the main room of the morgue. The older man stood very still at the door, waiting for the pathologist to open the door and indicate they were ready to start.

“An identification isn’t necessary, Mike—”

“It is to me,” Mike interrupted. He looked at Mac. “You need it done. And there’s no one else. No one who loves her the way I do. Except maybe her mother, and I can’t call her to do this. I can’t make her do it. For all the times I wasn’t there, I need to be here now.”

Mac decided not to argue. Sometimes family members needed to see the body to be sure, to make it real, and he wasn’t going to tell anyone how to grieve. He followed Mike into the colder room, standing a respectful distance from the row of drawers.

The pathologist tugged on a handle, and the drawer slid open. The body was covered in a white sheet that the pathologist gently folded down to reveal the pale, still, body of Courtney Matthews. Her eyes were closed, and if not for the bluish tint to her skin and the small, neat hole in her forehead, she might have been sleeping. Even the blood had been rinsed from her hair, and had been laid out to disguise the damage the exit would had done to her.

Mike stood there for a long moment, then raised one trembling hand to Courtney’s forehead, stroked the hair. “My little girl. I threw away so much time with my children. Arrogantly, I thought I could make up for it, but you really can’t turn back the clock, can you?” He raised his eyes to Mac. “You’ll find who did this, won’t you? You won’t let Scott get sidetracked going after Michael or Jason. You’ll—” His voice quavered. “Whatever mistakes she made, whatever she tried to do in those last few days or weeks, she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t—”

“I promise, Mike.” Mac stepped up to the older man, put an arm around his shoulder, gently pulling him away. “I’m going to find out what happened. Whatever I have to do.”

After finishing the identification, Mike went to the restroom, to take a minute, maybe splash some water on his face. While he waited, Mac looked through his phone and saw a missed call from the crime scene tech.

“Stevie? Yeah, I just got the call. What do you have?” Mac paused, listened to the response, took a deep breath. “You’re sure? There’s no mistake? Okay. Okay. Get me that in writing as soon as possible.” As soon as he hung up with the tech, the phone rang again. “Capelli—what?”

When Mike emerged from the restroom, Mac was at the elevators, jabbing at the button. “We have to go,” he said, sharply. “Now.”

“What happened?” Mike demanded, following Mac onto the elevator. “What do you know?”

“The gun doesn’t match. It’s Jason’s, but it wasn’t used in the shooting. The bullets didn’t match.” Mac’s mouth pinched. “And Lansing has disappeared.”

Harborview Towers: Hallway

Jason hesitated after stepping off the elevator. He looked towards the penthouse where Sonny had been kept for the better part of the week, mostly against his will. Then back at Elizabeth who had stepped out after him.

“Let me get you across the hall—”

“Just give me the key—” Elizabeth said, holding out her hand. “And I’ll wait for you. I can unlock a door, Jason.” But her tone was gentle, and he knew she wasn’t irritated with him—knew that Jason was just stalling from what he had to do.

He had to talk to Sonny for the first time since that night, still half-worried that despite the evidence, Sonny had done this. And if he wasn’t, what to do with a mentally ill man whose pregnant wife was lying in a coma? What would that do to Sonny’s fragile psyche?

“If you hear anything, you close the door and lock it. Deadbolt,” Jason said, dropping the key in her palm, closing it and holding it in his own hand. “Don’t open it for anyone but me.”

“I understand.”

Jason waited for her to go around the corner, to open the door and let herself in. Only when he heard the tumbler click, indicating that she had, at the very least, engaged the basic door lock—only then did he round the opposite corner and head for Sonny’s.

It was time to deal with Sonny, something he should have done weeks ago. Months. And maybe years.

A Bedroom

Ric winced as he twisted in the bed, rolling onto his side, trying to avoid putting pressure on the bullet wound in his back. Of all the times he’d taken a bullet, this had to be one of the worst places, he thought.

He’d woken in this room with no idea where he was until it had bobbed slightly, and he’d heard the sound of water. Only then did Ric realize he was on a boat.

And that was a mildly terrifying piece of knowledge because if he’d been taken from the hospital and put on a boat, that only meant one thing—and one person—

The door opened then, and Lorenzo Alcazar came in, the corner of his mouth curled up in a half smile. “Well, well, the prodigal wakes.”

“What the hell is going on—” Ric started to lift his hand, then scowled, realizing he’d been cuffed to the bed. “What the hell? Why would you take me from the hospital—”

“I was very disappointed in you this past summer,” Lorenzo said, removing a cigar from the inside of his jacket pocket. He lit it, then brought it to his mouth. “I thought you would recognize me.”

Ric leaned back against the pillows, grimacing. “Why? I never knew Luis had a brother, much less a twin—”

“Ah, Ricardo—” The lilt of Lorenzo’s words changed, and the way the Spanish name rolled off his tongue — Ric went very still. “Ricardo, I thought one estafador would recognize the other.”

“I’m not a conman—”

“Nor are you Sonny’s brother, but you did an excellent job preserving your own life with that little tale.” Lorenzo tipped the ash from the cigar onto the ground. “And that told me everything I needed to know. Not even bothering to confirm the existence of a sibling? No demanding DNA? You could have done so much with that information, my dear Ricardo. But perhaps you, like myself, have the same fatal flaw.”

Ric exhaled slowly. “And what’s that?”

“The lure of a woman. For me—” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Brenda. There can be no other. And for you, well, I suppose that’s obvious. Tell me, Ricardo, did you enjoy when Sonny’s sister came to you with her little lie? With her plan to frame Jason Morgan?”

Ric tilted his head back for a long moment, then took a deep breath, then met the other man’s amused eyes. “I will admit, Luis, I couldn’t resist the chance to see Jason behind bars even if it was a silly story that won’t hold long. I’ve always had trouble with my impulses.”

“No, I certainly understand that. Well, I’ve done you a favor, mi amigo, and snipped off a loose end, but I have one very important question.” Luis tilted his head. “How do you plan to tell Sonny that not only did he shoot his pregnant wife, but he also nearly killed his other little sister?”

+36

Written in 66 minutes.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

The inside of Sonny’s home looked mostly the same, and Jason realized now that he’d been expecting to find furniture turned over, chairs broken, the mini bar shattered—he’d expected to find destruction. But other than the thin layer of dust that suggested no one had been in to clean, the room was unchanged.

Other than the man sprawled out in the armchair in front of the fireplace, the hearth cold and dark. Sonny was slumped over, one arm stretched along the chair, the other holding his forehead. Jason hesitated, not prepared to find his friend downstairs at all.

At his entrance, Sonny glanced over briefly, his disheveled hair falling across his forehead in curls. “I wondered when you’d get to me.”

Jason didn’t draw any closer. “What do you mean?”

“I woke up this morning,” Sonny said in a strangely even, but lifeless tone, “and I knew were I was. Who I was. When I was.” He finally turned his full gaze on Jason, and there was clarity in his expression. Lucidity. Something Jason hadn’t been expecting. “I’ve been drugged. I know what it feels like after it’s done.”

“We had no choice,” Jason said slowly, taking one step closer. “You were out of control. In the middle of some kind of break.”  He cleared his throat. “What—what do you remember?”

“Not as much as I should, more than I want to. I—” Sonny’s hand fell away from his forehead, into his lap but he still didn’t stir from the chair. Jason came over to the area now, sat on the edge of the sofa. “I remember being here. Needing to talk to you. Looking for Carly. I went out. I don’t—” He furrowed his brow. “I don’t know why I was at Kelly’s.”

Jason stilled. “Kelly’s.”

“Maybe I thought—you were the night before. I thought maybe you’d be there again. Maybe that’s why. All I know—” Sonny rubbed his mouth, looked at Jason again. “I remember Ric. I remember Carly. And—and Elizabeth. And he was hurting them.” He squinted. “I thought he was hurting them. Scaring. So I—” He made a gesture with his hand, and Jason’s stomach rolled. “I don’t remember deciding to shoot — I—there was screaming. And blood.”

“What did you do then?” Jason said, his mind racing. Sonny had been the shooter, but then— “What did you do with the gun?”

“Threw it away somewhere,” Sonny murmured. “Couldn’t look at it anymore. Blood on my hands.” He stared at his clean hands. “Blood everywhere. All I do. All I am. It’s all I bring. Blood. Death. I killed them.” He focused on Jason again. “And now you’re here to kill me. Good. Good. I deserve it. Make it quick. Make it over.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth was too restless to sit or lay down, so she paced the room, taking in the changes made since she’d left—almost exactly a year ago, she realized. The furniture was different, she thought, sliding her finger across the fabric sofa. There was more of it, too. Knick knacks. Dust collectors, her mother had always called them.

Evidence of Courtney was everywhere, Elizabeth thought. There were photos on the mantel of Carly and Courtney, of Jason and Courtney. Courtney with the boys. She traced the smile on Jason’s face in his. He really had been happy with her, she thought, and wondered how he was feeling now. She didn’t doubt his decision to break up with Courtney or to come back to Elizabeth — but that didn’t mean his emotions had been erased.

Something caught her eye, a glint, and she turned to see something shining, wedged beneath the pool table. She crouched down, picked it up. A diamond ring. The same one Courtney had flashed over and over again during those long weeks. She must have thrown it across the room at some point, Elizabeth thought. She grimaced, climbing back to her feet.

She looked around again, seeing the penthouse with new eyes. The remnants of a life cut short. Of a woman who hadn’t been perfect or maybe even good, but one who’d been loved. Would Sonny be clear enough to find out about his sister? Carly, who had felt so betrayed — there’d never be a chance to resolve any of it. Mike, who’d already lost so much time—

And Jason, who had planned a life with her.

Elizabeth set the engagement ring on the mantel by the photo of Jason and Courtney in happier days. Courtney had chosen a terrible path as her relationship with Jason faltered, choosing to ally herself with an evil man, likely thinking the ends would justify the means, the betrayal. Or maybe hoping no one would ever find out. But did those final few weeks erase a lifetime? They’d been friendly once, maybe on the verge of something deeper.

That fledgling friendship had disappeared when Courtney had moved on with Jason, and the bitterness had spread between them, poisoning any chance for something else. Now Courtney was dead, a casualty of whatever war was being waged against Jason, and her murderer was still out there, likely planning another attack.

Elizabeth looked back towards the door, wondering what was happening across the hall, and hoping she had the strength to face whatever happened next.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Jason exhaled slowly, then shook his head. “I’m not here to do anything but help you,” he told his friend. Sonny scowled, lunged to his feet. Jason rose quickly in response, then was startled when Sonny gripped Jason by the shirt, dragged him close, his dark eyes burning.

“I am nothing but death and destruction,” Sonny growled. “Blood and pain and misery. I kill everything and everyone I touch—”

Jason covered Sonny’s hands with his own, gently pushing him back. “Elizabeth and Carly are alive.”

“W-What—” His hand trembling, Sonny dragged it through his hair. “But—”

“Elizabeth—she was—” Jason touched his shoulder. “She had surgery, and she’s been discharged. She’s across the hall, safe. I promise. And Carly—she’s still in the hospital,” he said, “but you didn’t kill her. The baby is safe.”

“I thought—” Sonny staggered back, looked away from, staring unseeing at the cold, dark fireplace. “I woke up, and I remembered blood.”

“They were hurt, yes. You need help, Sonny. You need more than I can give you. You know that.”

“Not dead. But hurt. Injured. Blood—” Sonny spread his hands out again. “On my hands. Always on my hands. You can’t see it—” He turned to Jason, holding them out. “Since I was fourteen. My mother. I killed her.”

“You didn’t do that, your stepfather—”

“If I stayed around, if I gave Deke someone to beat on—” Sonny wiped his mouth, shaking. “He never would have touched her. It starts with her. It always starts with her. I see her sometimes—” He closed his eyes, dropped back on the chair. “I see her and I see Lily and I see the son I could have had and the—” He licked his lips. “My mother. My mother was—I see the baby. It should have been hers, but I stole it from her.”

Jason grimaced. He was losing Sonny again, had to pull him back. “Hey. Sonny. Sonny—” He crouched in front of his friend. “You need to stay with me. Here and now. Lily has been gone for a long time. Your mother even longer.”

“I’m not—” Sonny closed his eyes. “I never told you, did I? Couldn’t. Couldn’t bring myself to say it. To admit just what I’ve done—my mother. When I see her, it’s always with the baby. I never—she never told us if it was a boy or girl—”

Mixing up Adela’s pregnancy with Ric, Jason thought, and sighed. “Okay, I need to make a call—”

“The doctor said they couldn’t save her. Couldn’t save the baby, couldn’t save my mother. And Deke—you know—he just smiled.” Sonny closed his eyes. “I couldn’t let him get away it. It was the smile that did it. I had to get rid of him. Had to make him pay for what he’d done.”

Jason frowned, tipped his head slightly. “Your mother was pregnant when she was died?” Sonny had blamed himself for not doing more to get his mother away from his stepfather for years—but if his mother had been pregnant—

“Yeah. Yeah.” Sonny closed his eyes. “I’m tired. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Okay.” Jason got to his feet. He’d sort out what all of this meant later. One step at a time. “I’m going to make a call. You need more than I can give you, Sonny. Will you let me help you? Will you let me make this okay?”

“Is that even possible?” Sonny asked dully.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “But we’re going to try.”

General Hospital: Carly’s Room

Bobbie tucked the blanket more tightly around Carly, then settled back to watch her daughter’s face, looking for any evidence that she was regaining consciousness. If she could tell them what happened — who had done this—

The door squeaked behind her, and she turned to find Scott creeping in. With disdain, Bobbie faced Carly again. “You’re not welcome here.”

“I get that. I just—”

She heard his footsteps come closer, but wouldn’t look at him.

“I came to update you—”

“Jason already told me about Courtney. Tell me, Scotty—” She twisted now, coming to her feet as she did so. “Would Courtney be dead if you’d never paid her a damn bit of attention? If you’d ignored her bullshit story? Would she still be alive now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just—”

“Jason didn’t do this to my daughter. To Elizabeth. He was with me the entire time. You’re calling me a liar, and I can’t—I can’t understand—” Her eyes burned. “I know you never loved me, but you were my friend! How could  you hurt me, my family like this? Did I never matter at all?”

“I was trying to fix it, okay! I was trying to make up for what happened this summer—I thought if I could make Ric and Courtney tell me why they were lying, I could trap him somehow, and I could give you all of it—”

“You were playing us?” Bobbie shoved Scott, and he fell back a few steps. “You arrested Jason like that, put him out in the public as the shooter, to what? Force the real shooter to act? Well, he did, Scott! He did! He murdered another woman in a cold blood. Is that what you wanted?”

“No. No—”

“This is on you. You and Mac and anyone else who let their personal grudges blind themselves to reality, to justice. You might as well as have put the bullet in that girl by letting the world think you believed her! I am ashamed to know you, to ever thought I loved you!”

Scott dipped his head, took a deep breath, then lifted his gaze back to hers. “Well then I’ve got nothing to lose by telling you that Ric Lansing is missing. And we don’t know where he is or who took him.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth was on the sofa, a remote in her hand, and something making noise on the television screen against the wall. She flicked it off quickly when Jason came in, closed the door.

“Don’t get up,” he cautioned her quickly, coming over to stop her before she started to stand. “We need—I need to stay here a little longer. To—wait for the doctor.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth winced, rubbed her shoulder. “He agreed.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I called the doctor. He’s coming with the paperwork and we’ll take Sonny to Rose Lawn. It’s—” Jason shook his head. “He was clear. Lucid. Whatever break from reality he was going through, it ended when he woke this morning.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief. It’ll be easier for him to accept help—” Elizabeth stopped, pressed her lips together. “But you don’t look relieved.”

“No. I’m not.” Jason dragged a hand down his face, then his expression fell on the mantel, on the photos. He swallowed hard, looked at Elizabeth. “Sonny was the shooter. It happened the way we thought.”

“But—” She faltered. “I don’t understand.”

“The time was so tight, and he didn’t have the gun when he came back. That’s—I clung to it. I didn’t want to be him,” Jason admitted. “But then Courtney—we found out about her—and I don’t understand why someone would go after her unless they were covering their tracks. But Sonny didn’t—he wouldn’t.”

“No, of course not.” Elizabeth managed to get to her feet, touched his arm. “I’m so sorry, Jason. And I’m sorry for what happened to Courtney. I was looking around, and I just—I just—I want you to know that you don’t have to hide how you felt about her. Not with me.”

Jason looked at her for a long moment, then leaned his forehead against hers, cupping her face with his hands. “I don’t know what I’m feeling,” he admitted. “I just don’t know what to do about any of this. How to—Sonny just told me that he sees his mother. Hallucinates her holding the baby she was pregnant with when Deke Woods beat her to death,” he bit out.

Elizabeth’s lips parted. “What?”

“Pregnant women,” Jason murmured. “I thought it was about Lily, and maybe it was. Maybe that stirred some of it. But losing Lily and the baby, then he and Carly lost their first child—the kidnapping and thinking he’d killed Carly—I don’t even want to think about what he’d do if he knew you were pregnant, too. But to find out that his mother died while pregnant? It just—it explains a lot of things,” he admitted. “I just—Sonny blames himself, and he sees his mother. He sees her holding the baby. He sees Lily and their son—”

“How terrible for him, for his mind to wage war like that when he’s not well.” Elizabeth curled into his side, and he pulled her against him, pressing his lips to his air. “I’m so sorry, Jason. But Sonny’s going to get help. You said the doctor is coming. A-and I believe Carly will wake up, and she’ll be okay.” She met his eyes. “We’ll find out what happened, and we’ll get through this. I’m not going anywhere.”

+38

Written in 65 minutes.

Recovery Room: Bar

Though the bar wouldn’t open for several more hours, the front door was unlocked when Jason checked it. Worried that there’d been a break-in, he pushed it open. The main part of the bar was dim, only sunlight peeking around the edges of the windows offered any illumination.

At first glance, the room appeared empty and there was were no obvious signs of trespass — the chairs had been neatly stacked on the tables, the floors were clean. It looked like it always did after closing though it had been some time since Jason had been to the bar as a patron, and Mike spent more time at Kelly’s these days.

One table in the corner by the doors to the kitchen was disturbed, its chairs settled in their usual places, and it was there that Jason found Mike. There were papers on the table, a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass by his side. The bottle hadn’t been open—the paper wrapped around the top still intact.

Jason approached the table almost reluctantly, and the fall of his steps stirred Mike. The older man looked up, blinked at the intrusion, then let out a slow breath. “You here with more bad news?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said. He stepped behind a chair, resting his hands on the back of it, but not taking a seat. He wasn’t sure of its welcome, wasn’t entirely sure that with some time and space, Mike was regretting his support of Jason in the wake of the shooting. Had Courtney felt abandoned, Jason wondered, and had that led her to the hotel, to the bullet that claimed her life?

Mike gestured at the papers on the table. “Arrangements,” he said, then dragged a hand down his face. “Have to pick a funeral home for my daughter.”

“If there’s anything I can—”

“You’ve—you’ve done enough.” Mike lifted his eyes to Jason again, then closed them, some of the stiffness easing. “That—I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t—I don’t blame you.” He chuckled lightly, though the sound was bitter. “I don’t want to blame you. It’s not your fault. None of this is. Not really. It’s mine.”

Jason pulled out the chair, sat down, clasped his hands on the table. “Mike, that’s not true—”

“Yeah? Tell me, Jason. How much of the darkness in Michael—how much is it from that piece of shit I left him with?” Mike demanded, and Jason looked down. “Maybe Michael would have always been a bit brooding, but what he turned into? Those seeds were planted by Deke, and if I had been any kind of man, well, that wouldn’t have happened. So Michael, that’s on me.”

Mike reached for the bottle of whiskey, twisted off the cap, tearing the paper that sealed it shut. “Courtney. Courtney. She was a little bright beam of sunshine from the moment she was born. Looked just like her mother. I told myself it’d be different. That I was different. That little girl just smiled and laughed all the time, looked at me like I hung the moon.” He turned away, the grief so stark on his face that Jason’s throat felt tight. “I couldn’t live up to that. Could never be the man that she thought I was, so I left. I left her alone with her mother, and she came looking for me here. She came to Port Charles, and if I weren’t here—”

He dipped his head. “I keep trying to tell myself I’m doing better. That I’ve been there for my kids these last few years, and maybe that’s true. But you never get that time back. You never get the trust back. There’s something that gets built in those early years, and when you don’t have it anymore—you can’t ever fix it.”

“Mike, Courtney was here because of you, but that’s — it’s not why she’s gone.”

“No. It’s not. Someone killed her. Someone she must have known a little bit, because she opened the door. She must have let them in, Mac told me.” He poured the whiskey, the bottle clicking against the top of the glass, his hand trembling. “D-do you think she was scared? Do you think she knew? Did she have time to know what was going to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“I want it to be your fault. I want to rage at you and even at Elizabeth for having an affair. For breaking my little girl’s heart.” His voice was thick now, his dull blue eyes glazed with a sheen of tears. “Because if you hadn’t done that, she’d have been at home. She wouldn’t be dead.”

Jason dropped his eyes to the table, to the dark, scarred wood texture rough under his hands. “I know that. I’m sorry—”

“But it’s not your fault. And it’s not mine. Maybe you and me, we put the pieces in place. That’s on us. I brought her here, and you put her in that hotel.” Mike’s breathing was a bit ragged and he stared down at the whiskey, but didn’t drink. “But I didn’t lift that gun, and you didn’t pull the trigger. That—that’s not on us.”

He set the glass down, pushed it to the middle of the table. Put the cap back on the bottle. “I’ll feel guilty every day for the rest of my life for not being the father my kids deserved. And I expect you’ll carry a measure of guilt for what happened between you and Courtney. That’s right. That’s fair. You make a mistake, you carry the weight of it.” He exhaled in a long, low, shaky breath. “But I’ll be damned if I carry her death on my shoulders. And you aren’t going to either.”

His eyes found Jason’s now. “I’m going to arrange for my daughter’s funeral because it’s the last thing I ever get to do as her father. But Michael is still here, and I can still do right by him.”

Jason flexed his hands. “I went to see Sonny yesterday like we talked about. He was…he was clear. Lucid.”

Mike lifted his brows. “That’s—that’s good. Did he talk about that night?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Then I called the doctor at Rose Lawn. Sonny signed the papers. A seventy-two hour hold for evaluation. He went last night.”

“That’s good. It’s good. He’ll talk to someone who knows better than any of us, and we’ll sort out what’s going on.” Sonny’s father dragged a hand down his face. “But he talked about that night.”

“Yeah. He remembers it in bits and pieces. He—he says it was him. That night.” Jason paused. “He saw Ric with Elizabeth and Carly in the courtyard, thought he saw Ric lunge for Carly, and he just—he shot at him.”

Mike was quiet for a long moment, then pressed his lips together, looked away. “He remembers being the shooter.”

“I think—I think he thinks so. He says he threw the gun away on the way back to the Towers. Maybe he is. I have some guys looking for it. The timeline is tight, I know, but the only reason we thought it wasn’t him—”

“We thought the PCPD had the gun, and he didn’t have it when he came back. And what happened to Courtney—that doesn’t fit.” Mike shook his head. “I don’t understand how any of this works, Jason. What happened that night is a terrible, terrible tragedy, but almost inevitable if Michael is the one holding the gun. But—”

“But everything that’s happened since then feels like someone trying to clean up after him. To hide his identity as the shooter,” Jason acknowledged. “I don’t know—I don’t know if you heard but Ric went missing from the hospital yesterday. A false transfer,” he added when Mike scowled. “I thought it might be Lorenzo Alcazar pulling the strings. Maybe he liked that I was being accused of it, and knew Ric and Courtney’s stories would fall apart eventually. But there are still a lot of questions even that’s happening.”

“Maybe. If I had known Courtney was the other so-called witness, I would have tried harder to talk to her. To track her down, but—”

“Justus wanted to hold on to that information,” Jason admitted with some reluctance. “He—he was worried I might be accused of witness tampering.”

“I get it. I do. It just…” Mike shook his head. “It just means we have to work harder. But one way or another, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Lorenzo Alcazar was on a lot of minds that day, including Mac Scorpio’s. He skimmed the case file on the only other Alcazar he’d come into contact with — Luis.

“Twins creep me out,” Scott muttered, looking at a newspaper clipping with a photo of the Alcazar brothers. “Someone just walking around with your face—” He hesitated, looked at Mac. “Sorry—”

“At least James Meadows wasn’t related to me,” Mac muttered, rolling his shoulders. “But yeah, I didn’t spend a lot of time looking into Luis Alcazar’s background last year. We had more than enough to keep us occupied.”

“True enough. Plenty of suspects right here in Port Charles.” Scott looked back at Mac. “But Morgan seemed to think this was the only possibility—unless he’s just screwing with us so he can go after the real bad guy—”

“No. No. We’re not doing this again, Scott,” Mac interrupted, and Scott made a face. “You wanted to play games the last time, and look what happened. We’re doing this my way which means the right way. I’ll get a full background check on Luis and Lorenzo Alcazar—”

“We might not have time for that—”

“If you have any ideas that don’t include screwing with Jason Morgan, by all means, lay them out. But right now, the guy is dealing with enough. And if you step one more foot wrong, Bobbie’s going to throw you out the window, and I’m going to let her, do you understand?” he demanded.

“Since you’re only half-kidding about the window, yeah, I get it. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Hardy House: Living Room

Elizabeth carefully lifted the black strap of the slung over her head, then tossed the contraption on the sofa behind her. She stretched out her arm, wincing at the pain her shoulder and at her elbow. Then she tried to flex her hand, spreading out her fingers. Her index finger wobbled, and her thumb bent—

But when she tried to curl it into a fist, her fingers only loosely curled over. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she wasn’t ready to give up. She went over to the desk by the stairs, picked up a pencil with her left hand and put it in the right, manually curling the fingers to force it to stay in position.

Then she tried to write her name on the edge of a piece of paper, tried to force her hand into a position and action that she’d taken for granted only a week ago—

But the tip of the pencil barely made any change in the paper, only the faintest of gray scribbles. She couldn’t really press down—the pencil shifted position, and she couldn’t hold it any tighter.

Her lips trembled as she took the pencil in her other hand—tried to write her name that way, but her hand didn’t know what to do, the muscles didn’t have any memory of moving in those ways, and while she was able to write her name, it was scrawled across the paper with awkward lines and angles—

Like the way a child might draw.

A tear dropped on the paper, right over the jumble of lines that should have been the ‘b’ in her first name. Elizabeth tossed the pencil side, went away from the desk, then used her good hand to massage her left as if she could reconnect the nerves and muscles through sheer will power.

A knock at the door broke her concentration. When she peered through the peephole and saw Jason, she pulled the door open. “I told you that you didn’t have to knock—” she started.

“What’s wrong?” he interrupted. He stepped inside, reached over to close the door. “Are you—are you in pain?”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” she muttered, leaving him at the door. She retrieved her sling, started to twist it over her head. “How was Mike?”

“Managing,” Jason said. “I’m sorry. I just—you were crying—”

She heard the steps behind her pause, and when she twisted to look, she saw him at the desk. He must have seen the pencil, noticed the paper sticking out. He looked down at it for a long moment, then at her, and the swirl of emotion in his expression, the way his mouth dipped at the corners had the tears crawling up her throat again. Elizabeth had to look away, to close her eyes.

She heard him drawing closer, then he was next to her, curling her into his side, careful not to jar her injury. He dropped a kiss in her hair, and she pressed her face into his shirt, wishing she could hide here forever.

“I’m sorry. I’m trying so hard to hold it together b-because t-there’s so much more going on, and a-nd I’m alive and w-walking around and Carly isn’t and Courtney never will, and Sonny’s so sick, and I still have the baby—it could have b-been so much worse, I got lucky—”

“Hey. Hey—” Jason stroked her back. “You don’t have to pretend anything with me.”

“It’s just—when things get h-ard or I c-can’t cope, I pick up a p-pencil and make it go away, and I c-can’t do that anymore.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I can’t make any of it stop.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t reassure her that they’d be able to make it stop, or that they’d be able to make any of this over. It wasn’t a promise he could keep, and he didn’t make those kinds of promises.

But he held her as she cried, and that was enough. For now.

General Hospital: Carly’s Room

It was times like these that Bobbie wished she’d taken up knitting. Or crocheting. Or any of those hobbies that gave you something to do with your hands, that kept your attention focused on anything other than what was going on.

She’d been in this room off and on for nearly five days now, listening to the sounds of machines beep and buzz, sounds that had provided the soundtrack for most of her adult life. She practically lived in the hospital, the only stable piece of her life for more than two decades.

And the sounds should be comforting now. They were signs that her daughter was alive, that the child she carried was still in good health. But beeps and buzzes and even the squeak of shoes in the hallway couldn’t comfort her anymore.

Bobbie wanted the sound of her daughter’s voice, from the way she held laughter in her words to the high-pitch whine when she wasn’t getting her way, even the jagged edges of her anger —

So used to the sounds of beeps and buzzes and squeaks that Bobbie didn’t register the way some of those beeps began to change. They were closer together, the heartbeat monitor picking up pace—

But Bobbie certainly knew the sound that her daughter made when a low moan emerged from her lips. Bobbie’s head snapped up, and she was just in time to see Carly turn her heard towards her mother, to see the lids lift to reveal just the brown eyes beneath.

“Mama?” the word was breathed more than spoken, but it was music to Bobbie’s ears. She leaned forward.

“There you are. There’s my girl. We missed you.”

+38

No idea how long this took, actually. Started at 6, had to take a break for an allergy attack (super fun, haven’t had one in a few weeks and your brain always tricks you into forgetting how terrible those are). Anyway, it’s done. Enjoy.

General Hospital: Hallway

“Hey.” Bobbie kissed Jason’s cheek, then squeezed his hand. “What brings you to the hospital?”

“Elizabeth has a follow-up with Tony,” Jason said, folding his arms. “I figured maybe it’s easier if I’m not there considering—”

“Right. Well, if you came to see Carly, I’m afraid you’ve just missed her. They took her in for more tests.”

“Oh.” Jason looked past her to the empty space where Carly’s hospital bed should have been. “How was she? Still—”

“Still the same. In and out. Not staying awake very long, and when she does, she’s just asking for Michael or Sonny.” Bobbie patted his arm. “Take a walk with me so I can stretch my legs. I’ve been sitting most of the morning.”

They headed down the hallway, back towards the nurse’s station. “How’s Elizabeth feeling?”

“Tired and sore.” Jason’s mouth was grim. “Still no feeling in her hand. Not enough anyway. And she feels guilty for even worrying about it with everything else.”

“I can understand that. A lot of people would look at her and think, well you’re out on your own two feet, you didn’t lose your baby, and you just have to learn with your right hand. No big deal. It could have been so much worse.” Bobbie squeezed his arm. “But you and I know what her art means to her.”

“Yeah.” Jason exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. About all of this.”

Bobbie stopped, looked at him with furrowed brows. “Why are you apologizing to me?” she asked, a bit dumbfounded. “Jason—”

“I could have done more,” he said with a quick shake of his head. “To help Sonny before this all went wrong. Now he’s at Rose Lawn, Carly was in a coma, Courtney’s dead—” he looked away. “Elizabeth might never pick up a paintbrush.”

Bobbie tipped her head, smiled sadly. “Don’t tell me you’re punishing yourself for not having the gift of reading minds. We worried over Sonny, both of us. And when Carly threw in the towel, you made sure she got out. We had no way of knowing—even imagining this might happen. And Courtney? Maybe if she’d made a thousand of other choices, she’d be here with us.”

“I know, it’s just—”

“We all did the best we could, Jason. Carly might not be able to tell us what happened that night. Ever. Elizabeth might not ever remember. All we might ever have is the fragments of what Sonny thinks he might have done. I’m trying to come to terms with that.” She lifted her brows. “Is there any news on Lorenzo Alcazar? Mac said he was their primary suspect in Courtney’s murder and whatever happened to Ric.”

“He’s off the grid, which isn’t great news.” Jason scratched the edge of his brow. “We’re looking for him, too. I don’t like the idea of either of them out there. We don’t even know for sure that Ric hasn’t been working for him all along.”

“And isn’t that a depressing thought?”

“I’m not going to stop looking for him, Bobbie. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’ll never know what happened that night for sure, but until I find the two of them, the people who matter will never be safe.”

General Hospital: Examining Room

Tony Jones watched as Elizabeth attempted to tighten her fist around a rubber ball, then made a note in his chart. “Range of motion is about where we’d expect it right now.”

Startled, Elizabeth dropped the ball and blinked at the doctor as he went to wash his hands. “But I can’t hold anything with my hand. I can barely hold a fork—”

Tony turned back to her, drying his hands on a towel. “I know it’s frustrating when you can’t do something that came so easily just a few weeks ago. And I know you’re an artist — that fine motor control is essential. The bullet nicked your brachial plaxus—” He gestured to his shoulder. “That controls so much of the movement on that side of your body — a few more centimeters, and we might be discussing the paralysis of the entire arm, not just your fingers.”

Elizabeth dropped her gaze to her hand, to the useless fingers. “You’re right. It could be worse.”

Tony set the chart back down, returned to his stool. “They’ll give you some exercises at the desk when you check out. Take it easy on them for another week or so, really let that injury heal. Right now, all of that area—” He touched his own shoulder. “It’s still angry, still inflamed. Let it relax. Ice, a little bit of stretching, the anti-inflammatory medication — all of that will combine to give us a better sense of where we are when you come back in—” He squinted. “Let’s say three weeks, unless you need something sooner.”

“But you think I might be able to get full range back?”

“Oh, well, I don’t want to make any promises. I can’t tell you a hundred percent of it will come back, not right away. Just try and have some patience.”

Patience, Elizabeth thought as she scheduled the next follow-up and retrieved the exercise and physical therapy regiment. She tried to remind herself that Tony’s job was to be realistic, and not to make promises he couldn’t keep, but she’d really hoped for something a little better.

Jason was outside in the waiting area, studying the view outside the window. “Hey. How did  it go?” he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth and retrieving the paperwork she held.

“Fine, I guess. Did you get to see Carly?”

“More tests.” Jason steered her towards the elevators. “But tomorrow, Bobbie said, she wants me to bring Michael by. Carly should be up to it by then.”

“That’ll be good for both of you guys.” Elizabeth leaned into his side, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Almost done.”

“One more stop, and start thinking about what to have for dinner.”

Port Charles Grille: Restaurant

Scott set the file down in front of Justus, then sat across from him. “That’s the entire investigative file. Everything I had when I  went to trial against Jason and Brenda.”

Justus lifted the file, which was no more than a few inches thick. “Seems a bit light for a murder investigation.”

“There’s a box of evidence back at the station,” Scott said, picking up the menu, flicking to the specials. “But there wasn’t much to go on. Kind of impressive I managed to get a conviction—”

“A wrongful conviction,” Justus said meaningfully. “I wouldn’t be so proud of convicting innocent people—”

“Morgan didn’t push the guy, but I’m not calling him innocent—”

“There’s not much here on the victim. Just his autopsy report,” Justus said, speaking over Scott. “Was there a background check?”

“Didn’t really need one. He was known to our suspects, and had been bothering people for a few months by that point. Besides, don’t Morgan and Corinthos have everything for you to look at—”

“I’m asking you about him. You said you wanted to get to the bottom of this, remember?” Justus said. “We all agreed Lorenzo Alcazar was the best suspect. We’re starting back with his brother’s murder. There are things you can get as the government that I couldn’t get legally—” When Scott opened his mouth, Justus pointed a finger at him. “No. Don’t even say it. Everything has to be by the book. Courtney—her family deserves that much.”

Scott made a face. “Yeah, yeah. Well, all we know about Lorenzo Alcazar right now is he was supposed to be the good brother. I guess maybe identical twins aren’t as different as everyone wants to think they are.”

“Doesn’t look that way, no. Let’s start with full background checks on both brothers and see what we’re dealing with.”

General Hospital: Examining Room

Elizabeth flinched slightly when the technician spread the cool gel across her lower belly. “Oh, that’s so cold.”

“Sorry,” the tech said, flashing a smile, then tapping some keys on the monitor. She picked up the wand. “Let’s see what we can make out. Have you heard the heartbeat yet?”

Elizabeth looked at Jason and he squeezed her hand a bit harder, then kissed her knuckles. “Sort of. But we haven’t—this is our first ultrasound.”

They’d both heard the heartbeat the night she’d been shot, but this—this would be the first time they’d see the baby.

“Your chart says that you conceived around September 2?” the tech asked, moving the wand across Elizabeth’s belly.”

“That—yes. So I should be about seven weeks along.”

The tech turned the monitor towards them — a dark screen with gray specks — and a little pulsating ball in the middle. “There you go—” She pointed. “Around ten millimeters long. Not much to see at this point, guys, but then again — no news is good news. And—” She tapped a few more keys, and a sound began to echo in tandem with the image on the screen.

Elizabeth opened her mouth, but her throat felt too tight for any words. She looked Jason, wondering if he could see what she saw — if it was the same for him.

“I’ll leave you both alone for few minutes. See if Dr. Meadows is ready to see you.” The tech left the room.

“Can you—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Can you—”

“It—yeah. I can. I wasn’t—” He dipped his head down, took another deep breath, then looked at her, tears in the corner of his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d be able to see anything. Or know what I was looking at it, but that’s—it’s moving at the same time—That’s our baby.”

“That’s our baby,” she echoed, her smile spreading. “It’s the first time—I mean, before, when I heard it, I was just so happy that it was there, that the baby—but it’s still here. We’re really doing this.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering. “We’re having a baby.” Jason pulled back, brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it again. “We’re going to be okay,” he told her. “Whatever happens.”

She laid back against the headrest, still smiling. “All three of us,” she told him. “We’re going to be just fine.”

A Bedroom

Every move he made, Ric had to bite down hard to avoid crying out. Just walking in laps between the edge of his bed and the dresser caused him to break out in sweat and his arms and legs to tremble—

But if he was ever going to get out of this goddamn mess, he’d need to have his movement back. Damn Sonny for shooting him in the back, though it could have been worse. He could have been paralyzed.

Or shot in the head.

All things considered, Ric had gotten off light, though it didn’t feel that way right now, as he clutched the end of the bed, sweat sliding down his back.

When he could move around, he could stop planning his next move. His escape. It was just his rotten luck that Luis had faked his own death, using his poor dumb bastard of a brother to cover his tracks. Ric should have seen that coming — hadn’t he spent nearly five years trying to stay one step ahead of Luis Alcazar?

He hobbled back to the bed, laid back down, panting. It should have been his ticket to success, he thought bitterly. Taking advantage of Luis’s death to secure his own future, to use all that wonderful research Ric had compiled for Luis’s benefit—

People really were so gullible. It was such a delight to see where you could lead someone if you left the right bread crumbs, or what you could make them believe if you played the right notes.

Ric had secured his continued existence by claiming to be the brother Sonny had never known about, figuring that Sonny wouldn’t try very hard to fact check the story. After all, wouldn’t he find the same details Ric had? Adela Woods had, in fact, worked for the cleaning company Trevor Lansing’s law firm had employed. Surely, they’d known each other, and Trevor had seduced more than his fair share of the help over the years.

And right now, Luis was busy planning a way to use Elizabeth’s relationship to Sonny against him, leaving Ric free to plot his next move. It was perfect, Ric thought, tying one woman to both men. Even better than using Courtney.

Ric would have deployed this sooner, but he’d thought Jason would be too skeptical. Only a few weeks after meeting Jason, he’d known it would never work. Within a few weeks, Jason would have had someone find all the evidence that supported Elizabeth Imogene Webber as the youngest daughter of Jeffrey and Caroline Webber, with zero connection to the state of New York outside of her grandparents.

But Luis? He’d bought the story hook, line, and sinker over a year ago, and had never bothered to verify it. Now he’d been holed up for two days, discarding all kinds of ideas and schemes to use the information.

People wanted to believe the impossible. The improbable. The incredible. Thank God for stupid people. They really did make the world go round.

+33

Written in 59 minutes.

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Office

“Hey. Thanks for squeezing me in.” Justus closed the door behind him, and set his briefcase on the ground. “How’s it going here? Any luck finding the gun?”

“No. Nothing at all.” Jason rose to his feet, relieved to be shoving away the paperwork that had piled up over the week. “Our guys have been over every alley between Kelly’s and the Towers, and I know the PCPD has looked, too, just to cover themselves. Nothing.”

Justus grimaced, folded his arms. “Do we think Sonny’s remembering something that didn’t happen? That maybe he was there and thinks he did it?”

Jason leaned against the edge of the desk. He’d thought of nothing else since the night they’d signed Sonny into Rose Lawn. Three long days of hoping the gun would show up, but— “There were days between the shooting and when we started looking. Rain could have washed it into the sewers. Someone could have picked it up. Not finding it doesn’t tell us anything.”

His cousin tipped his head. “You’re leaning towards believing Sonny, then. What about Alcazar?”

“Alcazar doing that shooting the way he did, it doesn’t add up for me. I don’t see a reason for him to do that. I could see him trying to use it,” Jason said. “Me or Sonny goes down for it, either way, it’s in chaos. And he couldn’t have known—” He looked down at the planks of the office floor.

“Unless he was working with Lansing, he couldn’t have known Ric would name you as the shooter or that Courtney would back it up,” Justus finished grimly. “But once you were arrested, you think Alcazar wanted to make sure you’d stay locked up, so—”

“So he arranged for the witnesses to disappear. Ric could be dead already for all we know, and Alcazar’s just waiting for a way to pin that on me. It’s convoluted, and I don’t like any of this. I don’t know what he’s doing, I haven’t understood since he showed up here,” Jason muttered. “He kidnapped Carly from the panic room, took her to Venezuela, then just let her go? He knew she was in there all along. He could have stolen her away at any point, and he didn’t. He waited until we were coming to rescue her.”

Justus squinted. “And then just…let her go.”

“Claimed he cared about her. Treated her well—like he knew it would drive Sonny crazy.” Jason’s mouth was set in grim lines. “And it did. Sonny was paranoid with jealousy. Most of the time, he could get it under control, but they fought nearly every night after we brought her home. For weeks. It just got worse and worse, until—”

“Until he was hallucinating Lily and losing complete grasp on time and reality. How the hell did Lorenzo Alcazar know how to play Sonny so well?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t know if I care at this point. I’m going out to Rose Lawn in the morning to convince Sonny to stay there longer. We’re on day three,” he reminded Justus. “But he’s out of the way there, and under security. I don’t have to worry about him. I can focus on what’s going on here.”

“Well, until Alcazar or whoever is behind this makes another move, we’re stalled. Baldwin dropped your charges, so you don’t have that hanging over your head. I’m working up a full background check on the Alcazar brothers. I know your priority has to be Elizabeth, Carly, and the kids, and that’s where it should stay,” Justus told Jason. “I came here to help, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

There was a light knock at the door, and then Max edged around the corner. “Uh, Mike’s out here. Hoped you’d have a minute.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Let him in.”

A moment later, Sonny and Courtney’s father entered, his expression worn, fatigue lining his mouth and the set of his eyes. “Jason, Justus—” He nodded at the lawyer, then tugged on his ear. “I was, uh, hoping there was an update on Michael.”

“Nothing yet. I’m going out to see him tomorrow. You could come,” Jason offered, and Mike nodded, almost faintly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I want—I want that. Uh—” He rubbed his chest. “I—I thought—I thought maybe I could clear whatever Courtney left at the penthouse if that’s okay. I’m sure—I’m sure you don’t want any of that—”

“Mike—” Jason made eye contact with Justus, and his cousin nodded, then slipped out of the room. “There’s no hurry on any of that. With Sonny and the kids not at the Towers, I’m not there either. You just—none of that has to be done now. Do you—do you want to sit for a minute?”  He didn’t know what to say to this man, this man who had always meant so much to him — whose daughter he’d hurt so terribly.

“Can’t sit. Can’t stop moving,” Mike admitted. He rubbed his eyes. “I just—I figured you’d want Liz up behind all that bullet proof glass. Safe. That’s gotta come before—before my—before the way I feel about how that went down. I can be angry later, you know? Resentful or whatever.” He swallowed hard, and finally looked at Jason. “I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt. I know Liz. I know what she’s been through. So if you need her to be there—it’s—it’s okay.”

“I—Thank you. But Audrey’s been great, and she’s agreed to let us make security upgrades at her place,” Jason told Mike, and there was some relief in the older man’s eyes now. “Elizabeth is comfortable there, with her family, and that’s what matters to me. The penthouse — it’s just a place to me. Courtney made it her home, and almost—” He looked down again, remembering how excited she’d been to redecorate it. “Almost all of it is hers, Mike. It’d be easier for me to take what’s mine than the other way around.”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess—we can table that for now. I just—thank you. Call me about tomorrow—”

When Mike reached the door, Jason called his name, and Mike looked back.

“I just—I’m sorry. For all of it. I don’t know the right thing to do. To say.”

“That’s because there’s no such thing.” Mike’s smile was sad. “I love you like you’re one of my own, Jason, and we’re all doing the best we can. But I also hate you right now, and that’s not easy for me, either. None of this is your fault, except the parts that are. And, well, there’s just not space for us to feel any of that, is there? You find the son of bitch who stole my little girl, and we’ll see where we are at the end of it.”

Forest Hill House: Porch

Bobbie paced the length of the porch, watching for the dark sedan that would deliver Michael safely from school. He’d returned the day before, and she worried that there would be gossip—that someone would talk about his mother who’d been shot in the head, or his father who had gone crazy. Everyone knew by now that Sonny had gone to Rose Lawn. And when the PCPD had dropped Jason’s charges, there’d been open speculation in the papers that maybe the real culprit was closer to home.

Behind her, in one of the chairs set under the windows, Felicia tucked both ends of her cardigan around herself. “I wish I could feel like things were slowing down. No violence for a few days, no terrible arrests. Carly’s awake, you said Liz’s health reports are coming back good, but—”

“But,” Bobbie said with a nod. She sat in the other chair, but perched on the edge of the chair. “I haven’t told Carly yet about Courtney. I don’t know how to do that. How to explain any of it. I can’t wrap my head around any of it. That was her best friend, but—”

“But she knew Courtney was working with Ric,” Felicia said. “And if you tell her a little bit, maybe she finds out Courtney was trying to frame Jason. It’s hard to mourn someone who got herself killed, Bobbie. Don’t make that face at me—the only people who aren’t thinking that are the people who gave a damn about her, and I’m not one of them.”

“I—I hate that you’re right. I hate that Courtney signed her own death warrant because that doesn’t mean she deserved it—”

“She got involved with Jason Morgan, and tried to frame him for murder,” Felicia said flatly. “I got involved with Roy last year and my girls were kidnapped by Luis Alcazar. Instead of getting in deeper, I cut my losses, and now I’m not looking over my shoulder anymore. Courtney was working with the man that kidnapped your daughter, Bobbie. Made it easier for Ric to stalk Elizabeth at work, and frame Jason for attempted murder. I like Mike, and I’m sorry for his loss. But anyone who thinks that Jason having an affair means that ditz’s blood is on his hands is just wrong. When Carly’s strong enough, you’ll tell her what happened. She already knows Courtney wasn’t her friend. All you’re going to do is make it easier for Carly to turn the page. She’s got enough to handle.”

“I suppose you’re right. In a really blunt way. Jason—and Elizabeth are taking on the guilt of what happened to Courtney, and I’m just worried for them both. For Carly. How much more can be laid on their shoulders before they break?”

“Let Jason and Elizabeth look out for themselves. You’ve got Michael to look after, and just think how much better Carly’s going to feel when she spends a little time with her boy.” Felicia nodded at sedan turning into the driveway. “And there he comes now. Let’s put on some happier faces and tell Michael he’s finally going to see his mother.”

Hardy House: Living Room

It still felt a little strange to be letting himself into Audrey Hardy’s house, Jason thought, but it would be even stranger if he were staying there. He’d grabbed a room at Jake’s, though he hadn’t slept much since—well, it was hard to remember the last easy night of sleep. Audrey, as he told Mike, was being incredibly supportive and accommodating, but Jason wasn’t going to test her by spending the night in her granddaughter’s room.

Elizabeth was standing by the window, turning to smile at him. The rubber exercise ball she’d picked up after her doctor’s appointment was in her palm and she was squeezing it. “Hey. I didn’t think you’d be back so early.”

He kissed her forehead, lingering for an extra moment, one arm curled around her shoulders. “Nothing but paperwork,” he told her. He stroked her uninjured arm, then cupped his hand beneath hers holding the ball. “How are the exercises?”

“No better than yesterday,” Elizabeth admitted with a sigh. “Tony said not to push it. To rest, to ice, to take the meds. But I guess I keep hoping I’ll just…magically be able to make a fist.”

Jason stroked her knuckles, wishing he could give her even a little of his strength, but it was one more thing he couldn’t fix. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay. I am,” she insisted, tilting her head back so their eyes met. “Tony reminded me it hasn’t been that long since I was hurt, and you know, I just think about listening to the baby’s heartbeat, seeing him—or her—on screen, and I can breathe, you know? There’s so much else awful going on. Are—you’re going to see Sonny tomorrow, aren’t you?”

He led her over to the sofa, helped her balance as she sat down, then joined her. “Yeah. Mike’s going with me.”

“Oh. Good. Good. That’s—” Elizabeth bit her lip. She took the ball with her uninjured and and gingerly set it on the coffee table. “It’s stupid to ask how he’s doing.”

“He’s…doing as good as anyone could expect,” Jason said after a long moment, and she looked at him again, long and quiet, her eyes always seeing more than he wanted. “He’s angry with me. He doesn’t want to be. But he is.”

“He’s a good man, you know. He was so kind to me in the hospital after you were arrested, even when he must have known that we’d—I mean, everyone knew about the baby. And now—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, her breath shaky. “I want you to know that you—you can grieve her. You don’t have to hide it from me. You cared about her. You loved her—”

“I’m not hiding it,” Jason assured. He picked up her bad hand, gently stroking her fingers, his throat tight at the difference he felt—the weakness in the muscles. “I just don’t know what to do with any of it. I was so angry with her at the end. I don’t know what I would have said if we’d ever had another chance. The last words we ever said to each other were angry. I told her I never wanted to see her face again, and she hoped I’d die miserable.” He looked away, troubled.

She touched his jaw with her better hand to pull his eyes back to hers. “I’m sorry.”

“You’d think the way it happened, the reason she was killed was because of me—you’d think maybe I’d have regrets about it. But I don’t. I feel like a fraud when I talk to Mike,” Jason muttered.

“Why?”

“Because she’s dead, and I still wouldn’t take those words back. Especially now. She knew what Ric was, Elizabeth. And she didn’t just hand him your schedule. She kept working with him. Talking to him about you. What if he’d gone after you? And she was trying to get me sent to jail for hurting you, and Carly—she didn’t care what Sonny was going through—she didn’t care about anyone but herself.”

Jason released her hand, not wanting to be touching her as the anger coursed through his veins. He didn’t like this side of him, didn’t like that he could still feel this visceral hatred for someone who he’d thought he knew well enough to marry.

He’d walked away from Elizabeth, hurt her terribly, and chosen Courtney, a woman who had cared so little for him that she’d tried to send him to jail.

“I’m sorry she died that way, I am. And I get how the choices I made, that we made that night at Jake’s, I see how it started all of this. But I didn’t put her in that room, on the other side of a bullet.”

“No. You didn’t. We didn’t,” Elizabeth said softly, and he looked at her. “I walked away, and I would have let you go. I did let you go. She kept me in it. She didn’t have to give Ric my schedule, but she did. And she didn’t have to keep meeting with him. She made the choice to work with an evil, terrible man, and it put her in that room. What we did that night—it was the right thing for us. And Courtney did what was right for her, and now she’s dead. She’ll never have a chance to regret it. That’s more than enough punishment, I think.”

+32

Written in 56 minutes. I knew I wouldn’t get to a better stopping point in 4 minutes, and I didn’t wanna go ever.

Rose Lawn: Visitor’s Lounge

Jason shifted in his seat and fought the urge to get up and pace the length of the small room tucked in the corner of the private mental health clinic Sonny had checked himself into a few days earlier.

He sat up straight at the sound of a doorknob twisting, and then Sonny was coming through the doorway.

His coal-black hair was hanging in curls over his forehead, his eyes were rimmed with red, and his expression was creased with fatigue, but there was a lucidity that Jason hadn’t seen in days. Maybe weeks.

Jason exhaled slowly, rose to his feet. “Hey. Uh, how—how are you feeling?”

Sonny smiled faintly, but there was no humor or real warmth in his eyes. Just exhaustion. He came forward, not with his usual swagger but an almost hesitant step. He stopped when he reached the table, put his hand on the back of the chair, but didn’t sit down.

“Like I’ve been run over by a few of our trucks. Thanks. For coming.”

“Yeah. The doctor—I mean they said you asked for me.” Jason sat down, keeping his eyes on Sonny, the pressure on his chest easing when Sonny followed suit, sliding into the chair across from him.

“Yeah. Uh. They…they gave me something. I don’t really know. It’s all—” Sonny squinted. “Everything is moving slowly, you know? Like I’m trying to walk through water. But—” He cleared his throat. “But I can think. The doctor—they said I won’t—it’s going to time before I feel normal. Or anything close to it.”

“Do…do they know what—” Jason didn’t know how to ask the question. Was Sonny still crazy? Was it just a psychotic break or something else? What were they dealing with?

And did Jason really care? Was he obligated to care? Sonny had put Carly and Elizabeth in the hospital, jeopardized the life of two unborn children—and he’d refused until the bitter end to do anything to help himself. What did Jason owe to him? Friendship? Was there any of that left?

“They don’t know if it’s — they got theories, I mean. But there’s tests. And tests. And more. But I’m—I’m staying,” Sonny offered. He looked down at his clasped hands. “To find out. To know for sure. And maybe just…just to rest.” He looked away, out the window that overlooked the lawn and drive leading to the highway. “I don’t remember a lot about those last few weeks. It’s all in flashes. But I don’t like what I can remember. I don’t know how much of it was real. Or what was my mind lying to me.”

Sonny looked back at Jason, and now his dark eyes were damp. “I remember you. Coming to see me. Because Carly—she was scared. She left me. Had to go, didn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Jason met Sonny’s troubled eyes, keeping his gaze steady. “Do you remember why?”

“I—I hurt her. Shook her.” Sonny pressed his lips together. “A-and there’s—did I hurt Elizabeth?”

“I don’t know, Sonny. What do you remember?” Jason asked. He leaned forward. “Do you remember Elizabeth?”

“I—the courtyard. That’s what you want to know.” Sonny closed his eyes. “Because Carly and Elizabeth were shot. The doctor told me. Someone shot them.”

“Someone?” Jason echoed. “So you don’t—”

“I—there are—” Sonny gestured at his temple. “There are flashes. I-I was there. And there was—” He spread his hands in front of him, palms up. “There’s blood. But I don’t think that’s real. I think maybe I just—I just think I see blood.” He squinted back at Jason. “I went to Kelly’s. Looking for you, for Carly, hell, maybe Elizabeth,” he muttered. “I don’t know. I was just looking. And I saw him, walking towards my wife, and I just—he was going to hurt her.” Sonny closed his eyes. “But that was me. I did that.”

“Yeah.”

“And Elizabeth.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t—I don’t know how that happened. I don’t know what made me—” Sonny dragged a hand down his mouth. “I don’t know why any of it happened. Or why you’d even come to see me. Yeah, I asked, but you came. After I did that.”

Jason clasped his hands loosely in front of him. “Did you aim the gun at Carly’s head and pull the trigger?”

“No!” Sonny’s eyes widened, his nostrils flared. “No!”

“Did you try to hurt Elizabeth because of who she is to me? Because Courtney told you I left her?”

“Christ. Jesus. No. No. I wouldn’t—” Sonny closed his eyes. “But I did that. Not the why. But the fact of it. I hurt them both. I can’t—how do—” He shook his head. “How do I live with that?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know what it looks like when you leave here,” Jason told him. He hesitated. “How much of what’s been going on do you know?”

“The doctor’s been telling me what I need to know. Or maybe what I can handle. You got arrested for what I did. Fucking Baldwin,” Sonny muttered, sounding for just a moment like his old self. “They said Elizabeth was okay. That’d she be okay. And Carly. She woke up.”

“Yeah. Elizabeth is home,” Jason told him. Waited a beat. “She can’t move her hand, Sonny. And Tony won’t make any promises about getting that back.”

Some of the color leeched from Sonny’s face. “Her—” He looked down at his palm. “Not her—God, not the hand that she—”

“Yeah. I’m not telling you that to make you feel worse,” Jason said, and Sonny looked back at him. “I’m telling you because you need to stay here. You need to stay until the doctors say you’re okay. I can’t—I can’t help you anymore. I should have done this a long time ago, Sonny, but I didn’t. I’m sorry for that. For letting this happen. But I can’t do it again. Carly and Michael, they can’t go through it again.”

“The baby?” Sonny asked, almost on a rasp.

“He’s okay. They didn’t have to deliver. Carly will be able to carry to term.” Jason paused again. “And Elizabeth didn’t miscarry, though the risk is still there.”

“Elizabeth—” Sonny closed his eyes. “She’s pregnant.”

“Yes. Six—seven,” Jason corrected, almost softly. “Seven weeks. We just found out.”

“We.” Sonny rubbed his mouth, absorbed that, then nodded. “That’s—that’s good. That she’s okay. That you’re—that you’ve got that. I know there’s—I know there’s all the rest of it. But you—you deserve this. A good life. A good woman. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Jason pushed away from the table. “And I’ll come back to see you. But you have to promise me, Sonny, you’re staying here until someone who knows what they’re talking about say it’s okay.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”

General Hospital: Carly’s Room

“I won’t take much of your time,” Mac said, taking a seat at Carly’s side. “Bobbie says you’re still getting tired easily.”

“Getting…shot…in the…head will do that,” Carly said. She leaned back against the pillow, its case nearly the same shade as her skin. “Can’t…tell you much. Don’t remember.”

“Mac won’t press for details. Not yet,” Bobbie said, flashing Mac a warning glare. “And you don’t need them.”

“No. No, I just need you to tell me what you can. My first priority is you,” Mac said. “You were in the courtyard that night. Did Ric show up before or after you?”

“After. I was…leaving.”

Mac scribbled something. “You came to talk to Elizabeth before closing?”

“Yes. Courtney—she—with Ric. Do…you…did you…talk…to her?”

“Ah, yes. Was she there?”

Carly’s forehead crinkled, her eyes squinting. “N-No. No. Just—just me. Elizabeth…Ric. We…wanted…him…to go. He…wouldn’t.”

Bobbie muttered something, folded her arms. Carly frowned, but kept going. “It’s….it…gets foggy. I don’t…know. There…was yelling…and I think…maybe…I heard Sonny. Was—Mama…Sonny, he was there? Where…is…he?”

“He’s getting help,” Bobbie told her, coming to the bed and taking her hand. “Jason got him into Rose Lawn. But you remember him that night?”

“Did….was he there? I hear…his voice. Screaming…and then…nothing.” Carly closed her eyes. “All…swirling…together. Ric. Sonny. Lorenzo.”

Mac’s eyes sharpened. “Alcazar?”

“Must…have thought…Venezuela…mixed up.” And then she’d drifted into sleep, her breathing slowing to an even pace.

Mac grimaced, and got to his feet. Bobbie followed him into the hallway, snagging his elbow. “Bobbie—”

“Her story matches Elizabeth’s—”

“Except for Sonny and Alcazar. Elizabeth doesn’t remember them, and she wasn’t hurt as badly,” Mac reminded her. “Carly might be confusing things with Venezuela. I know Sonny confessed to Jason, so that makes sense. We have no reason to believe Lorenzo was there that night—”

“Except Ric is gone and Courtney’s dead. And now there’s a chance Alcazar was at Kelly’s—”‘

“Bobbie—”

“No! No! I don’t want to hear you dismissing my daughter because of what happened. She remembers—” Bobbie stabbed a finger at Mac, poking him in the chest. “You ignored her kidnapping—”

“It was never reported to us, and no one would have cooperated even if we’d—”

“Stop that. Stop!” Bobbie’s eyes shimmered and Mac closed his mouth. “You had that report from Elizabeth. You knew what she saw. What she begged you to know. You had Michael’s statement. You knew what that scum did to my baby, and you didn’t deal with it. And now—”

“Don’t blame this on me—” Mac gestured back to Carly’s room. “I didn’t tell your daughter to stay with a mentally unstable lunatic or walk around without guards when she’d already been kidnapped—”

“How dare—”

“No, how about you give me a goddamn break, Bobbie,” Mac retorted and she scowled. “I had witnesses putting Jason as the shooter, and I held Baldwin off as long as I could before making that arrest. I kept investigating, okay? But your daughter just came out of a coma, and even she’s not sure what she saw that night. I don’t doubt Lorenzo Alcazar is mixed up in all of this, but so far I don’t have a lot to work with!”

“You—”

“Lorenzo Alcazar drops off the face of the planet almost a year ago. Just up and leaves his university post in the middle of the term, and goes no contact to everyone, including Luis’s sixteen-year-old daughter, who by the way, is still off at some ritzy boarding school. Then this guy shows up here in Port Charles, does nothing to show his hand until he snatches Carly out of the panic room before we can get to her? He does all of that, drags her back to Venezuela, then just lets her go? None of this adds up to anything I can charge—”

“Wait—wait—” Bobbie held up her hands. “What do you mean Lorenzo Alcazar dropped off the face of the planet? What does that mean?”

“Last November. Just before his brother took a flying—” Mac stopped, stared at her. “Before his brother took a flying leap off the balcony.”

“Lorenzo Alcazar, who everyone keeps telling me, was a mild-mannered university professor until three months ago? He left his life, and now he’s back, in his brother’s business? Holding Carly hostage on his brother’s property?”

“You have to be—” Mac whipped out his phone. “Please. Please don’t tell me that Lorenzo Alcazar is the one who went over the balcony—yeah, Scott? We might have a problem.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Elizabeth hesitated at the edge of the courtyard. None of the tables had been set up — they could probably still get another few weeks before the weather really turned, but it had already been closed down for the winter.

Even with the pale sunlight shining down, it didn’t take Elizabeth much to bring her back to that night. To the pain, the screaming, the confusing—

She closed her eyes, tried to finish the scene. Standing with Carly, arguing about who should stand behind who. Wishing Jason would hurry up and arrive, and then—screaming. Loud bangs. Pain exploding—

But the screaming? What was that? Who was that—

She jolted when fingers brushed her shoulder and her eyes flew open. She stumbled, turned, breathing a sigh of a relief until she saw who was standing there.

Mike.

+26

Written in 63 minutes. Had to double check some earlier Mike scenes and it took some time.

Lake Onatario: The Deck of La Revanche

The city skyline was a pinprick in the horizon, suggesting they were closer to Canada than New York. Ric stood at the railing, watching the sun hover the cursed city, pondering the mess he’d made this last year.

Kidnapping Carly had probably been the the turning point, he thought grimly. He’d managed to get Sonny to swallow the story about their supposed paternity and bought himself some breathing room. Then Elizabeth had told him about the baby and had, for some godforsaken reason, decided to give him a second chance.

Maybe they weren’t related, Ric mused, but he and Sonny certainly shared the same tendency to let women destroy their common senses.

“Considering a swim?”

Luis appeared at his side, but Ric said nothing, hoping the other man would take the opportunity to fill the silence. What did he want with Ric? What the hell was his plan and why had he let them all, including Ric, think he was Lorenzo all this time?

“I’m trying to stay alive,” Ric said when Luis only remained silent. “What are you going to do with me? I’m just a witness—”

“That was before Courtney’s body was discovered too soon,” Luis muttered, his hands gripping the railing. “Morgan had a solid alibi. Now, you’re not much more than a loose end.”

“Who knows a great deal about the men you’re trying to destroy,” Ric reminded him. “You hired me to destroy Sonny, remember? I’m closer than you were ever able to be—”

“Oh, I don’t doubt you have some value. It’s why you still breathe.” Luis turned to him, keeping one hand on the railing. “Sonny’s locked up in a private mental hospital, but Morgan’s still out there, the dragon at the gate as always.”

“And he hates me,” Ric said, helpfully. “I can get under his skin—”

“Hate might be too weak a word to describe the loathing.” Luis scrutinized Ric, his eyes squinting. “What might he trade for a chance to end your life personally?”

Ric pressed his lips together, looked back out over the water. Nearly anything, he thought, but said nothing. “Jason’s not one for revenge. Not when he got what he wanted. My wife. The child she promised me.”

“Ah, yes, the lovely Elizabeth Webber, our Helen of Troy. I’ve been thinking of the question I posed to you a few nights ago. How to tell Sonny what he nearly did to his own sister. I must confess, since then, I thought of little else. It’s the missing piece to my own plan. The final twist of the knife to break Sonny so badly he’ll be begging me to kill him.” Luis sighed. “But I worry she’s too well guarded to get to, and well, where’s the fun of telling Sonny if I can’t see the horror on both their faces?”

Ric arched a brow, sensing his opening. “After everything else you’ve done, are you saying you’re not up to the challenge?”

Luis just arched that brow again, then left him standing at the railing pondering just how Ric could use Luis’s obsession into gaining his own freedom. If Luis believed the lies Ric had hoped to use against Sonny without bothering to verify any of it for himself, well, then he might be desperate enough to do anything.

Which was exactly the way Ric liked it.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Elizabeth stared at Mike for a long moment, her free hand fluttering up to her chest. “You—you startled me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Mike gestured to the diner. “Did you want to come in? I don’t—I don’t know who’s on shift. Penny’s handling that.” He moved past her, looked inside the diner, took a deep breath, then looked back at her. “I haven’t been back here since that night.”

“Neither have I.” She cleared her throat, but there were no words that followed. She didn’t know what to say to him. At the hospital, after Jason’s arrest, and in the few days that had followed, there’d been a strain, a horrible awkwardness in every interaction. They’d never spoken of her pregnancy or what it meant for Courtney.

But then Courtney had died, and Elizabeth had grappled with the terrible guilt of not really feeling guilty at all. She was sorry Courtney was dead, mostly because Mike cared about her, and he was a good man. Sorry for Michael who loved his aunt, and for Carly because that would only complicate her recovery. Sorry for Jason who had loved her once.

But there was no guilt, no sense that Elizabeth had anything to do with how Courtney’s life had ended. She’d played a role in the end of Courtney’s relationship with Jason, but those weren’t related, and not feeling guilty had only made her feel worse about all of it.

Was Mike angry at her? Was he holding back his anger with Jason because of Sonny? Would he do the same with her because of her injuries, because of the baby?

“I just wanted to stand here,” Elizabeth said finally, and their eyes met. “I hoped if I could just do that I could remember better what happened that night.”

“I, uh, thought Jason said Michael confessed.” Mike folded his arms. “Unless he’s changed his mind and thinks Lorenzo did it after all.”

“No, he, um, he  hasn’t said differently for me. Sonny remembered being here. And well, it makes the most sense, I guess. But I just—” Elizabeth turned slightly, facing the courtyard the way she had that night. “I thought if I just stood where I did that night, if maybe it might jar something.”

“Well, talk me through it. How did it happen?”

Elizabeth flicked her eyes to Mike, but his expression didn’t change, didn’t seem unfriendly. She nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Um, well, I was closing that night. I told DJ to go home. I thought Carly’s guards were out here. And—”

“And Jason was on his way,” Mike said. The words were offered without emotion, but his posture changed slightly, just a slight tensing of his muscles. “He was worried about you after the night before. Wasn’t he?”

“Y-yes.” She licked her lips. “Carly didn’t want to wait for him. She knew he’d be angry—so she came out into the courtyard, and I followed. I wanted her to wait. To come back inside, so we could lock the door. But she just wanted to go home. She was upset—”

“Why?”

“W-what?” Elizabeth blinked at him, confused. “Why what?”

“Why was she upset? What so important that she came to see you that night? Waited for you to close and be alone?”

“Mike—” Elizabeth hesitated. “I don’t—that’s not important—”

“Maybe it is. Maybe you shouldn’t decide what’s important without considering everything,” he interrupted. “Courtney said Carly was here to confront you. She was upset about you and Jason, wasn’t she?”

“I—” Her throat was tight. “No—”

“No? Courtney was her best friend—”

“That’s why she was upset,” Elizabeth said softly. “Mike. You know what happened. Why—”

“I know what Jason’s told me. But I think maybe you need to say it. To my face.” Mike lifted his chin. “Tell me that my daughter was conspiring with the psycho who went after Carly.”

“You—you don’t believe—”

“Courtney knew from the first day what Ric did. She knew what he was before you did. She tried to tell you, remember?” Mike said, and Elizabeth’s eyes burned. She looked away, her vision blurred as the hot spiral of shame swirled up into her throat. “She didn’t have to sit by and be poisoned by him, to live in the same house while Carly was trapped in the walls. You’re telling me with everything she knew about Ric and what he did to Carly, she went to him because of what you did to her. I’m supposed to believe that she was that spiteful and vindictive.” He shook his head. “No. I don’t believe it. You need her to be the villain. You need it to be that way so Jason isn’t sorry she’s dead. But there’s no proof—”

“Mike.”

They both turned back towards the back entrance, and Jason was there, coming forward and standing between them.

“This has nothing to do with you,” Mike told Jason. “This is between me and Elizabeth and the lies she wants to tell about my little girl to make herself feel better—”

“The truth that she said to my face,” Jason retorted. “Go ahead. Call me a liar, too.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“No. No. Because this is all twisted and convoluted enough without adding another damned layer.” Scott jerked out of his side, dragged his hand through his hair leaving it standing wildly on end. He turned back to Mac. “What the hell are you trying to tell me?”

“I don’t know anything for sure,” Mac said, holding up his hands. “I just think  there’s a pretty good possibility that maybe Luis Alcazar is still alive—”

“No. I rebuke this. This was supposed to be a simple case of Sonny Corinthos going loco and shooting up a courtyard, okay?” Scott slapped his hand against his open palm. “I force Morgan to give up the ghost, and then we get our guy. And if we’re lucky, I get to make things right and take down Lansing so maybe Bobbie won’t plot my demise. That was the plan, Mac! Not whatever cockamamie twisted story you got cooking in your head—”

“That plan went out the window the second Courtney turned up with a bullet in her head and Lansing went AWOL. We still don’t know if he disappeared himself or is floating somewhere.  But Lorenzo Alcazar? Carly remembers hearing his voice that night. And he’s the only one who’d want to frame Morgan for all this.”

“But it didn’t work, okay? How do you figure that—see—see—this all falls apart—maybe Lorenzo Alcazar is being framed by all of them—”

“Scott.”

Scott collapsed into the chair, his head in his hands, letting out a low moan. “I just want one normal case, Mac. Just the one. Is that too much to ask?”

“I know you think this makes it more convoluted,” Mac told him, “but it actually streamlines it.”

“Uh, how do you figure?”

“Alcazar’s got too much heat on him. He had to know his days were numbered. He calls his brother — tosses him over the balcony—”

“That was Alexis Davis—”

“Okay, so maybe Luis just set Lorenzo up to be killed, and went underground to regroup. He comes back out, and decides to pick up where he left off. Remember? He started by wanting to get rid of Sonny. But now, he’s angrier. More obsessive. He’s lost Brenda. Sonny—and now Jason—are the ones protecting her. Keeping her away. Ric’s in town, going after Sonny, so now Luis — as Lorenzo — can come in, get under Sonny’s skin. He rescues Carly, treats her well in captivity knowing it’ll send Sonny through the roof—”

“But it doesn’t just make Sonny reckless and angry—” Scott straightened, his eyes sharpening. “It makes him go actually crazy. Alcazar’s got eyes on Sonny and Carly. He’s gotta know something isn’t right. Either he’s following Carly or Sonny that night, it doesn’t matter. He sees Sonny shoot up the courtyard, and figures this is his time—”

“Except Courtney and Ric get in the way trying to frame Jason. Alcazar tries to make that work for him, but it goes south again because Sonny gets himself committed. He’s under lock and key. And Jason’s not taking the hit for Courtney because we’re his alibi.”

“Okay. Okay.” Scott got to his feet, started pacing, then he whirled around, looked at Mac. “You know what we gotta do? We gotta throw him off course. We gotta mess with him. We got leverage. He doesn’t know what we know.”

“I know exactly how to do that. What does Luis Alcazar want more than anything in the world?” Mac leaned against his desk, smirked. “I think it’s time Brenda Barrett comes home for a visit.”

+30

General Hospital: Carly’s Room

It was difficult to keep her eyes open, to force herself to stop drifting, not to give in to the fatigue pulling at every muscle, but Carly was determined to find out what was going on.

Because something was going on—something that was somehow more terrible than the prospect that Sonny was part of what had happened to her. Had he shot her, thinking to protect her from Ric? It was too awful to be true, and yet—

Her mother returned from the hallway, after another phone call she’d left the room to take, that fake smile stretched across her face. “Are you up for some dinner? I thought maybe Leticia could come by and bring Michael—”

“I want that, yes, but—” Carly stopped, searching for the right question, the right turn of phrase, the magical words that would keep her mother from shutting down, from telling her there was time for that later, after she’d rested, after she’d recovered—

Bobbie straightened the sheets at the bottom of the bed, flicked at some imaginary lint. “He’s such a resilient little boy, you know. Rolls with the punches.”

“That’s…Jason’s…influence.” Carly pressed her lips together. “He hasn’t been to see me.”

Bobbie stopped, looked at her with wide eyes. “Oh. But he has. He just keeps missing you with tests and, oh, he’s had so much on his plate, Carly, you can’t begin to understand—”

“Let…me try. Elizabeth…she was there that. She was hurt, wasn’t she?”

“Y-yes,” Bobbie said, a bit hesitantly. She sat in the chair next to the bed, perched on the edge as if ready to take flight. “But not as badly. A bullet to the shoulder. She was released a few days ago.”

“I—I know about them. Jason and Elizabeth. You don’t have…to protect…me. I know. Jason—Jason told me. I mean, he…” She heard the word slur and squeezed her eyes shut. No. No, have to stay awake. Have to know. “He didn’t have…a choice. I…heard. I heard her. And Ric. I know. I know that. You…don’t…have to protect…me.”

“Sweetheart—”

Carly rolled her head to the side, pressing her cheek against the pillow, looked at her mother. “Courtney. Not my friend. Maybe not ever.”

“I can’t speak to that—”

“She hasn’t been here either. She knows. That I know.”

“I—I don’t know if she did—” Bobbie closed her eyes, and the expression that crossed her mother’s face—the panic-tinged regret managed to get through the fog creeping in.

“Mama. Where…where is she? Did Ric…”

“I don’t know. We don’t know much. But, honey—” Bobbie reached for Carly’s hand, squeezed it. “She’s gone. She died.”

Carly looked up at the ceiling, swallowed hard. “Dead. Someone…Sonny? Was this him? Is what you’re trying so hard not to say? Did he hurt me? Did he hurt Courtney?”

Bobbie exhaled slowly. “We don’t know what happened to Courtney. But yes, we think this was Sonny.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

He taken Mike at his word that Courtney’s father would keep things civil, that whatever anger and resentment he had about the end of Jason’s relationship with his daughter, he’d keep it to himself for now.

But Mike had just been playing games, Jason realized, standing between the older man and Elizabeth. Playing with words. He’d held in his anger at Jason because Mike still needed access to Sonny—

But Elizabeth, apparently, was fair game.

Mike clenched a fist at his side. “Jason, I told you, I don’t want to do this with you—”

“But you’ll do it to Elizabeth,” Jason said. “You forgot to tell me that when you were reassuring me.” He turned his back, looked at her, at her stricken expression, the guilt swirling in her eyes. “Let’s go—”

“But—” she began.

“Jason—”

“I get that it would help you deal with all of this if you can find someone to blame. And that’s fine. You blame me,” Jason told him, flattening a hand against his chest. “I’m the one that proposed, I’m the one that broke his promises. And I’m the one who made sure that when it was done, Courtney hated me. Elizabeth did nothing—”

“Except let everyone think that my daughter conspired with a psychotic kidnapper. What’s more likely, Jason?” Mike challenged. “Courtney turning her back on everything she knew about that man or Elizabeth lying to cover up for him like she has for months?”

“Shut up—”

“No, no, please—” Elizabeth flew between them, holding her hand up, her fingers trembling. “Please don’t. Don’t do this. Okay? Jason, don’t.” Tears spilled down her cheeks when she turned to Mike, his face florid. “If I thought for one minute I could make this easier for you by lying, by letting you think that it was true, I’d do it, Mike. Because the truth is awful for everyone who loved her.”

“It can’t be true, okay? You misunderstood. You had to—I just need you to think, to go back and see if maybe you just didn’t understand—” Mike’s voice faltered. “You have to be wrong.”

“I wish I was. I wish—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, touched the arm still tucked into the brace. “I wish I could take it all back. To go back in time and stop it somehow. I regret every minute I ever spent with Ric Lansing. I need you to know that I don’t blame you for doubting me—”

“Elizabeth, you don’t have to do this,” Jason told her. He laid a hand on her shoulder, tried to propel her back but she shook her head. “You don’t owe him anything—”

“Don’t I? Don’t I owe a debt for the way I kept Ric in this town? I trusted him, and he broke me into pieces—” Her lips trembled, and she looked to the ground. “And I can’t ever undo that. But I left him. I wanted to be done with it. You know that, Mike. You know that Ric was bothering me. I wasn’t going to say anything, but Nikolas forced me to—”

“I—”

“He knew her schedule, Mike,” Jason said tightly, and Mike looked away. “Did you give it to him?”

“Of course not—”

“Courtney didn’t just tell me to my face. She was still working with Ric. That’s why Carly was here that night. To tell Elizabeth what she’d overheard. Carly heard her. It’s not just Elizabeth’s story. Are you telling me Carly’s lying, too?”

Mike dragged his hands down his face. “I can’t—it just can’t be the way it happened. There’s something missing. He forced her. Like before. Like this spring. Blackmail or something. She knew what he was. She knew.”

And because the horror in Mike’s voice was sincere, and because Jason had his own guilt, he swallowed his irritation. “She knew, and she hated me enough that it didn’t matter. She went to the cops and tried to frame me, Mac. Why do you think she wouldn’t hate me enough to do worse?”

“I can’t—I can’t do this. I don’t want to—” Mike turned and left the courtyard without another word.

Elizabeth turned to face Jason, tears glinting on her cheeks. “I’ll never be able to make up for  what I did, will I? For all the months I defended Ric. No wonder he hates me. I just don’t understand why you don’t hate me, too.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Scott paced from the door to the desk, then back again, waiting with little patience as Mac finished his conversation on the phone. He made a little circle in the air with his index finger, indicating it was time to wrap it up.

Mac shot him the finger and Scott just scowled at him. “Yeah, Robin, I appreciate it. Okay. I’ll take it from here. No, don’t come home. I’ll keep you in the loop, but right now, the last thing we need is someone else on the ground that we have to worry about. Keep that up, and I’ll have your mother pull strings to get your passport revoked. Stay in Paris.” He dropped the phone back on the base, then sat behind the desk with a sigh.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Brenda spent some time in Paris with Robin, and was just putting together plans to find a new agent and get back to modeling—but then Lorenzo Alcazar showed up. He found them in Paris, wanted to let Brenda know there weren’t any hard feelings.”

Scott stilled. “And no one bothered to tell you? Or anyone? What about Morgan and Corinthos?”

“Brenda called Jason. He arranged for her to get off the grid. She left Robin in early June, and Robin hasn’t had much from her since. A few phone calls, but nothing that would give us a location. I don’t know what, if anything, Sonny knows.”

“Alcazar goes to see her personally, and Brenda disappears? That might explain why Alcazar came here, focused on Sonny again. He thinks he’s hiding her—”

“Actually.” Mac tipped his head. “I think that might explain why he started with Ric. Because Jason’s hiding Brenda. Jason’s the one that married her to protect her from Luis, remember? And who do Ric and Jason have in common?”

“Ah. Well.” Scott sighed. “Well, if we’re going to ask Morgan for help again, it probably should be you. I think he might be a little mad at me.”

“A little?”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right and I was wrong. You don’t have to rub it in, okay?”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

She hadn’t been in a hurry to return to the penthouse, not after learning of Courtney’s death and being here looking at what remained of a life the woman had planned with Jason. She’d avoided the conversation of where she was going to stay, knowing that the studio was out of the question and that, security wise, her grandmother’s house wasn’t exactly ideal.

But Elizabeth almost wished she’d spoken up so that she’d have some warning for what confronted her after Jason pushed the door open and stood aside to allow her in.

It was like a time warp. Nearly every item of furniture was gone, save the pool table, a single photo of Michael, and a familiar brown leather sofa. “W-What—”

Jason blinked, looked around, then rubbed the back of his head. He dropped his keys on the desk. “I forgot. Mike said he wanted to get Courtney’s things, and I wanted—I wanted to make it easier on him, so I had some guys —”

Remove every evidence that she’d ever existed. Elizabeth braced a hand against her abdomen, almost protectively splaying her hand over the baby she couldn’t feel yet. It was all so impossible suddenly, and she didn’t really understand why the stark emptiness of the room should make her feel that way—

“This is—this is too much. I can’t do this. I can’t—” She fumbled with the clasp on the brace, dragged it over her head, then cradled her damaged, weakened arm, her shoulder aching.

Jason came forward, a hand outstretched. “Hey—careful—”

“I can’t do this. I can’t—” She stepped back from him. “It’s too much. It’s just too much. This isn’t what it’s supposed to be like. We’re not supposed to be doing this.”

“Doing what?” Jason said carefully, holding his hands up, almost as if he was trying to ward off the levels of crazy she felt sure were radiating from her trembling body.

“Any of this. All of it. It’s just so fast, and out of control, and I don’t know how to make any of it stop, I don’t know how to do this. What am I supposed to do? We’re acting like all of this never happened, like we weren’t basically at each other throat’s throats for a year, and I told you I wish you were the one who was shot—”

“Okay, maybe you need to take a breath,” Jason said, taking a step towards her, but she backed up.

“No, no. I just need to—” She let her arm fall to the side, the useless dead weight of an arm she could barely lift, much less use to create. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I need. I just know it’s not this.”

“This,” Jason repeated. He stiffened. “Me?”

“No. I mean, yes, no—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. We had that night, and then we walked away, and we were barely even scraping together an idea of what might happen in the future, and then I’m pregnant, and shot, and almost lose the baby, and Carly’s in a coma, you get arrested—and now courtney’s dead, and you just erased her like she didn’t happen, but she happened, okay? It all happened.”

Her chest was heaving when she finished, and Jason just looked at her a little wide-eyed, startled, because he hadn’t expected any of that. Neither had she. But something about seeing the penthouse look exactly as it had a year ago.

A year ago when she’d stormed out and it had all gone insane.

“Do you want me to take you to your grandmother’s?” Jason asked finally. He lowered his hands to his side. His tone was careful, his expression blank.

“I don’t know what I want, and I just—” Her head hurt, and so did everything else. She sat on the sofa, stared at the blank wall straight ahead. “I don’t know anything. I feel like I’ve been walking in a stupor since I woke up and you got arrested, and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Okay—” Jason drew out the word uncertainly, but a knock at the door kept him from continuing if he even knew what to do with her insane meltdown. He looked at her again, then went to the door. He grimaced, then pulled it open. “If you’re here to arrest me again—”

Mac put a hand against the door frame, blocking Scott partially from view. “Ignore Baldwin. He’s just here because I didn’t lock the car door fast enough.”

“Look, I dropped the charges. Don’t I get credit for that?” Scott demanded.

Mac ignored him, focused on Jason. “We have a problem. You’re hiding Brenda Barrett.”

Jason blinked, thrown by the commissioner’s statement. “What?”

“Brenda. Robin said she called you when Alcazar showed up in Paris. It seems like you arranged for Brenda to go missing, and then a few weeks later Lorenzo Alcazar showed up here in Port Charles. At Ric’s, where he found Carly in a panic room. But we don’t think he was looking for her.”

Jason’s hand fell slowly from the door. “What do you mean, he was at Ric’s?”

“He was there that night.”

Jason turned, looked at Elizabeth whose expression had gone still, the whirl of emotion faded entirely. “What?”

“The night Carly was kidnapped. He called the cops when he found me passed out on the sofa. He knew Carly was in the panic room. Ric got the cops to leave, but he never knew why they were there. But it was Alcazar.” Elizabeth came forward, her eyes on Mac. “You think he came looking for me.”

“Yeah. I do. But how did you know that?”

“Ric told me when he came back from Venezuela. He was trying to make me think he was forced into kidnapping Carly, but it was a lie, and he dropped it. I would have told you. If you’d ever followed up on my original statement.”

Jason pressed his lips together, looked from Elizabeth back to Mac. “You think Lorenzo Alcazar is looking for Brenda for revenge on his brother? I didn’t understand why Brenda was afraid — she’s not the one who killed him.”

“No, but she is the reason Luis came to Port Charles, why he went after Sonny in the first place,” Mac reminded him. “You ever ask yourself, Jason, why if Lorenzo Alcazar wanted revenge, he was playing games? Kidnapping Carly, then releasing her? Hanging around to make Sonny crazy?”

“I—” Jason was missing something, and he didn’t know what to think. “I don’t know, but it sounds like you have a theory.”

“I do. I think Lorenzo Alcazar is the brother who went over the balcony, and Luis Alcazar is back in town, finishing what he started.”

+31

Written in 61 minutes.

Jason closed the door behind Mac and Scott, but he didn’t turn around right away. He stood there another moment, both hands flat against the door, his head bowed for a long moment, absorbing everything the commissioner and district attorney had thrown at him, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

It was too much, too convoluted, to horrifying to be true, and everything inside of him was rejecting the idea that Luis and Lorenzo Alcazar had switched places a year earlier because a vengeful brother was something Jason could almost understand, but a psychotic obsessed lunatic was harder to grasp—

And the last thing he wanted to do was turn around and listen to Elizabeth ask him to take her back to her grandmother’s, to watch her walk away. Again.

So he stood there, his back to the rest of the room for just another moment, hoping that somehow, with the extra time, he’d find the words that he’d never found before.

How to make her stay.

She hadn’t the day in the park, when he’d all but begged her to see what was in front of them or a year earlier when he’d mishandled everything about Sonny’s fake death—

And it didn’t seem as if he was going to find those words again today. He had nothing left to give. Not after seeing Sonny, the confrontation with Mike, the awful scene with Elizabeth before Scott and Mac had dumped more on his shoulders.

He’d just have to take her to Audrey’s and hope the next time—

Jason jolted when her slim arm curled around his waist and he felt her lean against his back. He reached for her hand, then slowly turned, drawing his brows together. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” She lifted her eyes to his, and he was relieved to see that swirl of anxiety and panic had faded, though the shadows beneath them seemed to have deepened. “You’re so steady, so certain, and I take it for granted. That you’ll always be that way. No matter what gets thrown at you.”

Mystified, he looked down at the hand he held, and then at the one resting at her side, still out of the brace. He lifted it, placing it on top of her other hand, then clasped both his hands around them. “I don’t understand.”

“I think I lost sight of just how awful things were before this happened. You were so unhappy, Jason. So worried about everyone, and then this happens, and it all gets so much worse. I didn’t even think it was possible,” she managed, her throat tight. “But all of those things happened to you, too. And if I’m pushed to the edge of my sanity, it’s not fair to expect you to hold on to my crazy and keep yourself together, too.”

“It’s okay—”

“It’s not. It’s really not.” Tears clung to her lashes, but they didn’t fall. Her lips curved up at the corners, but there was no humor in her features. “Sonny’s like your brother, and I know how much Mike means to you. A-nd Scott and Mac think Luis Alcazar is back? Brenda must be terrified—”

“She doesn’t—” Jason furrowed his brow, considering now if part of Brenda had worried. “She didn’t know that. She thought—thinks—it’s Lorenzo Alcazar. And we still don’t know.”

“No. Just one more awful question. Too many of those and not nearly enough answers.” Elizabeth exhaled in a long, slow, but shaky breath. “I’m okay now. I think maybe I just needed to flip out and let all that awfulness out. I came in here, and God, it looks like the night I left, and I think I broke a little inside. Because what if I hadn’t left? What if I’d stayed?”

Jason looked up, looked around, and really took in the stark surroundings. “I—Mike wanted to get Courtney’s things. I told him there was no hurry. I asked—I asked the guys who’d helped her last spring when she moved in. I don’t know if—maybe they thought I wanted to get rid of everything.”

“It’s fine—”

“It’s—I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. We can’t do that.”

“And that wasn’t fair of me to say.” She started to move backwards, and her hands fell from his grasp. She turned in a slow circle, her eyes drinking in the emptiness, the way their voices bounced off the walls. “It’s me, you know. That wishes it hadn’t happened. Listening to Mike—”

“He was wrong—”

“Was he? About Courtney, yeah. I don’t blame him. It’s an awful thing to face, and if it gives him comfort to think it’s a mistake, that I’m a villain, I can live with it. But he wasn’t wrong about the way I took Ric’s side. Over and over again.” Her eyes found his again. “I wish I could say I did it because I truly loved him. Or believed him.  I told myself I did, but I think deep down I didn’t. And because I didn’t, I dug in harder. Just like I did with Lucky. I ignored everything that didn’t fit in my fantasy, and when it all blew up anyway, the fall was so much harder. Because if I hadn’t been so scared, so stupid, none of this would be happening.”

“I know it upsets you to think of that,” Jason said carefully, and she just sighed. “And I was angry with you. For a long time. Especially when you married Ric even after everything you knew. When Sonny told me, I thought—” He grimaced, looked away.

“What?” she asked softly. “What did you think?”

“That I wasn’t going to waste my breath talking you out of it. That I’d done it over and over again, and there was no point. Whatever happened next would be your fault, not mine.”

He didn’t know what reaction he expected, but then she smiled, a full one, with a crinkling of her eyes. “Oh, no. How terrible. What a jerk. How can I even look at you now?”

Jason tipped his head. “That doesn’t make you mad?”

“It’s actually—” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s actually a relief, which sounds insane. I’ve been over here, wracking myself with guilt because of the things I said to you, and you’d never given up on me. But you did. Even if I didn’t know it. I don’t know why that comforts me.” She leaned against the arm of the sofa. “Jason, you had every right to be angry with me. And if you’d held that against me for the rest of our lives, I’d never be able to blame you.”

“What’s the point of doing that?” He came closer, feeling oddly reassured. Maybe they really should have talked about all of this before. And maybe they would have — if there’d been time. If the world hadn’t crashed down around them. “Do you think I felt any pleasure in being right? That he hurt you and that you ended up regretting it? I don’t.”

“I know.” She bit her lip. “When we found out I was pregnant, the original plan was to keep things quiet and let things happen. To let things cool off with you and Courtney. To give you time and space to figure out Sonny and Carly so you’d be able to worry less about Michael. To give us space. Because we can’t just jump into what happens next. I’ve spent too much of this last year lurching wildly from point to point, and just never taking the time to breathe.”

Jason made a face, looked away. “I know. And that was a good plan, but—”

“But it’s not on the table anymore. I don’t know how we fix this. I don’t know what to do except keep moving forward. Doing what feels right in the moment, and just being honest. I’m scared, Jason. Not of Alcazar. Because you’re going to tell me what to do and I’m going to do it. If that means being locked up here in the penthouse until you have answers, then we’ll do that.”

“It—it might,” Jason admitted with a grimace. “If Alcazar doesn’t scare you—”

“That we’re going to mess this up. That I’m going to get too freaked out and run or that you’ll shut down, and I just—don’t know. I lost it today. I mean, I really lost my entire mind, and if Scott and Mac hadn’t shown up—” Elizabeth sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I would have made you take me home, and that would have been the end of it.”

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here because of that. Because all of that will be going on whether you’re here or not,” Jason told her. “If you feel sorry for me—”

“I don’t feel sorry—oh, that came out all wrong, but it’s how I made it sound, didn’t it? No. No.” She straightened, standing up. “No,” she said for a third time. “It’s not that I felt sorry for everything you’ve got on your shoulders. I just got some perspective, that’s all. And a reminder that it’s not fair to look at you for the answers. Too many people do that, Jason, and I refuse to be one more person you have to take care of. I don’t know what tomorrow looks like, what we look like, but I want to be with you. Mac and Scott just dropped this enormous problem on your lap.” She lifted her chin. “What do we next?”

Vannes, France

The brunette had taken the cottage near the harbor some months ago, but mostly kept to herself. There were whispers that she looked familiar, but no one could quite place her. Her accent, the few times she’d ventured out, was obviously American though her French wasn’t too terrible. Boarding school French, to be sure.

If anyone in Vannes suspected that the mysterious woman was the former supermodel Brenda Barrett, whose mysterious return from the death remained cloaked in rumors and scandal, no one breathed a whisper of it. They might gossip around their own, but anyone who had one fake death on their resume had enough trouble without adding to it.

So she lived her life, wondering if this was the day he found her. If this was the last day of her life — or if she’d ever really get her own life back.

The answer came late one night, just after ten. The phone rang in the kitchen and she stared at it for a long time, letting it ring once. Twice. Then a third time. She nearly didn’t pick it up.

But she had her own promises to keep. “Has he found me?”

“No, but it’s time to come home.”

“It’s—” She closed her eyes, tears pricking the corners of her throat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve run long enough, Brenda. We’re going to deal with this, once and for all. I promised you that I’d keep your safe. But I need your help to do it. Will you come?”

“I—” No. No. The words screamed in her head, but the louder the voices grew, the angrier she became.

How many years was she going to let that man steal? How many more nights would she wake, listening to the dark, waiting for him to emerge from the shadows?

“I’ll come.”

General Hospital: Hallway

Bobbie saw Scott coming down the hallway, narrowed her eyes and turned her back on the irritating man. “I don’t have time for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m scum of the Earth, you can get back to hating me when I’m done.” Scott took her elbow, gently pulled her back to face him. “I need to talk to Carly. We need to find out everything she knows about Lorenzo Alcazar. About Venezuela. And the panic room.”

Bobbie scowled. “You think I’m going to let you talk to her after you threw away her case—” Scott handed her a file and she closed her mouth. “What’s this?”

“When we went to Morgan, we told him our theory. Elizabeth was there and told us Alcazar was there at her house the night Ric brought Carly there.”

“What? What does that mean?” Bobbie frowned. “We knew Alcazar knew about the panic room—”

“We thought Alcazar was looking for Elizabeth. Because Jason’s hiding Brenda. I’ll come back to that—but maybe we had it backwards. Maybe there’s something none of us knows. Because I have some questions about Ric Lansing.”

Bobbie opened the file, frowned. “This police report, it’s in Spanish, and—is this his medical file?”

“That police report is for Ricardo Lansing who was thrown in a Caracas jail about a year ago. For stealing from Luis Alcazar.”

Bobbie opened her mouth, then closed it. Looked at the medical report again. “And this?”

“Look at that blood type, Bobbie. Do you happen to know Sonny’s blood type?”

“That’s—that’s not—” Bobbie lifted her stunned eyes to his. “He and Sonny aren’t related. They’re not brothers.”

+30