General Hospital: Rewritten Chapter 1, a general hospital fanfic

Rewritten

Rewritten

Foreword: This is my attempt to rewrite what turned out to be a rather uninspiring summer on General Hospital. It didn't have to be that way, but it was. It will feature everyone…hopefully. It starts the night that Michael was shot. None of the other storylines from that show take place in this universe. No JoLu arguing, no Liason. No J-Lex. No Scrubs beforehand. Why? It's my story. Comments, good or bad, are always appreciated.

Chapter One:

Port Charles: 3am

Johnny sat at the wheel of the car, feverish and anxious, but to the girl across from him, he just looked determined and fearless. He revved the engine, and the car raced off into the dark night. Casually, he flipped on the radio as he turned onto a country road. A macabre guitar twanged into existence in a minor key.

You wake up to the sound of alarms

And you're driving your fabulous car

Listening to the music that reminds you

You used to be young. You used to be young.

The beat kicked in and Johnny pressed the pedal down farther, and the lampposts zoomed by even quicker. Beside him, Lulu's mane of blonde hair had blown across her face and whipped in the wind. She was laughing. It would all be over soon, Johnny thought.

Port Charles: Earlier that evening

The swinging doors of the emergency center at Port Charles General Hospital banged open as paramedics crowded around a stretcher, working frantically. One of them started calling out information before the doctors had even rushed over.

"Twelve-year-old male. Gunshot to the head. Possible cerebral edema. Pulse thready. Unresponsive…"

Patrick Drake, with his long legs, was the first to make it to the gurney. His eyes went wide with recognition and his hand immediately shot out to the side to stop the much shorter legs of Robin Scorpio, who, as always, was just a step behind him, jogging twice as fast.

"Robin, you don't want to see this," he said in the calmly detached manner he had learned to adopt when sights were too shocking to process. Robin, never one to take Patrick's opinion on what she wanted, struggled against his forearm, and finally ducked underneath it, stopping short as she saw the patient.

"My God…Michael."

There was blood matted in his red hair, and a streak from where a rivulet had rolled across his forehead. His normally pale skin was even paler, almost ghostly. Robin turned away immediately nausea threatening to overtake her. She tried to shake the image by squeezing her eyes shut. She didn't want to see anymore. She could hear the stretcher rolling by her now, and the bustle of the ER, people talking, people shouting, but it all seemed to slow and blur into something she couldn't make sense of.

When Robin finally opened her eyes, Sonny and Carly were staggering in through the emergency doors, in a daze, faces sunken, wandering aimlessly, hopelessly, like so many parents she'd seen come into this place. They looked stunned. They looked like they'd been hit by a bomb. She walked up to them, not quite knowing what to say. Carly cut her off before she even got the chance.

"Where's Michael?" Carly whispered uncharacteristically, on the verge of tears. Robin hesitated. They were working on him. The last thing they needed was a hysterical Carly barging in, screaming and crying.

"WHERE IS HE?" Carly began yelling desperately. She shook Robin until Robin thought she might start to come apart at the seems.

"T-they're working on him in e-examining room four." was all Robin could muster before Carly blew by her and stormed down the hall. Robin, desperate to be of some use, looked over at Sonny, who was bewilderedly staring at nothing.

"….Sonny?" Robin asked cautiously. She didn't get a response. She touched him gently on the arm and he startled, his eyes searching wildly before they settled on her.

"Sonny, what happened? Are you okay?" Robin turned him around and began examining him, looking for traces of blood, gunshot holes, scrapes, bruises. There was blood on his suit, and his hands, but no injuries. Sonny shook her off.

"It should have been me, Robin," he muttered. "It should have been me." He walked off.

The crime scene was bathed in alternating flashes of blue and red from the police cars parked outside, casting strange, moving shadows all over the warehouse. Police commissioner Mac Scorpio was grim-faced, directing officers to secure the area and look for the gunman. Barking his last orders with a little more severity than usual, he took a few deep breaths to try to calm himself down. His fists were clenched as he surveyed the scene. Another mob hit. Another young life taken too soon. Just like Emily Quartermaine. Just like his Georgie.

Mac ducked under some crime scene tape to where one of his detectives, Lucky Spencer, was taking a witness statement from Kate Howard.

"…and he was going out to play and Sonny was coming towards me, and there was a flash, from…from over there," she directed his eyes to a place along the wall, stacked with crates, "and the next thing I knew I was on the ground and someone screamed and Sonny ran to his son and started yelling at everyone to call 911."

Lucky looked grimly at Mac, and then they both turned to look at the blood covered spot on the floor that the crime scene technicians were busy photographing. Mac's jaw clenched, as he stared at the grey concrete space, picturing the park, and his young daughter's dead body lying lifeless in the snow. Disgusted, Mac turned away. Kate Howard looked at him expectantly.

"C-Can I go now? I need to get to the hospital. Sonny needs me to –"

"You can go when I tell you that you can go!" Mac snapped, practically growling. "Do you even want us to catch this guy?"

"Whoa, Mac." Lucky quickly led him aside. "Are you okay?", he whispered once they were out of earshot.

"I'm just – I'm just tired of it all, Lucky. How many are going to die? How many – how many young people have we lost? How many? And for what? And you know it's never going to end. Now there will be retaliation. Why can't we just lock them all in a box, so they can kill each other, and not – and not…."

"Hey," Lucky said, clapping him on the back. "It's okay. I've got this covered here. We're going to get this one, you and I, okay? Why don't you take a break?" Mac looked over at the concrete floor of the warehouse again, and nodded slowly, before stalking off. Lucky walked back to Kate, who was tapping her heels impatiently.

"A couple more questions. I need to know where you were standing, and where Sonny was standing when the gun went off." Kate walked over to a spot beside a railing, dividing the makeshift office area from the storage section of the warehouse.

"This is where I was standing," she said, looking around to be sure of her bearings, "and Sonny was just a couple of feet away. Right there." Lucky followed the path from the space between the crates to where Sonny and Kate were standing, a couple of times.

"This…this flash you said you saw…can you describe it?"

"It was it was like a reflection. I think it was…the reflection of…one of those telescope thingies, you know, for guns."

"A sight?" Lucky asked. Kate nodded.

"And did you see the gunman?"

"I…no. It was dark, and it all happened so fast. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground."

"Anything else you remember."

"I remember…I remember it didn't sound like I thought it would. The gunshot. It was sort of like a loud clank. I didn't even know what had happened for a minute."

Lucky's eyes drew down to the railing, and then he shut them, as a very painful idea came into his head. That bullet was meant for Sonny. It was a ricochet.

"Can I go now?" Kate's voice was eager. Lucky nodded and called for an officer.

"Take Mrs Howard to General Hospital immediately."

The dull din of the doctors and nurses in the emergency room operating bay could be heard in the hallway, where Carly sat, curled into a ball against the wall, staring at nothing in particular, and avoiding the pitiful stare of Sonny, who was himself curled up on the other side of the hallway, with Robin beside him, rubbing his arm.

Carly felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up.

"Mom?"

"Oh Carly." Bobbie slid down the wall to sit next to her daughter, pulling her into her arms. Carly laid her head on Bobbie's shoulder.

"What's going to happen?" she whispered, her voice throaty with tears.

"They're working on him now," Bobbie said comfortingly, the years of experience as an OR Nurse steadying her voice. "They're doing everything they can, Carly, okay? They're going to do absolutely everything they can for him." She kissed the top of her daughter's head.

"Mom…what am I going to do? What am I going to do if…." Carly trailed off into tears, and buried her head into Bobbie's neck. Bobbie ran a hand through her daughter's hair.

"Shh…it's okay. You need to stay strong. Michael is going to need you to stay strong for him." Carly shuddered against her shoulder, and Bobbie looked up in silent prayer. This was BJ all over again. She envisioned the doctors coming out of the room with organ donation paperwork, and squeezed her eyes shut until the image went away. This was not fair. Not again. Not Michael too. "BJ watch over him," she whispered.

Claudia pulled Johnny into the den by his elbow. Johnny looked at her in alarm.

"Something bad has happened. Something really really bad." She began to pace.

"What?" Johnny followed her. He had never seen his sister so distraught.

"Oh God. We shot his kid, Johnny. We shot his kid."

"What?"

"Sonny Corinthos' kid got shot in the head."

"How? I mean, this wasn't supposed to happen! No! This was never supposed to happen!" Johnny yelled, hands going to his head. "This was not what I wanted! This was NOT –"

"Well, if it isn't the two screw-ups," droned his father's slightly mad voice from the doorway. "Mistake number one and mistake number two. Well, I hope you're happy, because you've gotten us all killed." He laughed. "He's going to come, and he's going to put a hole in your head. And he's going to put a hole in your head. And then he's going to try to put a hole in MY head, but I'm going to be ready for him." Anthony Zacchara laughed wildly, practically giggling at the thought of whatever was going through his demented head. His children looked at him agog.

"But daddy –"

"Oh, don't you daddy me, princess. You know, I never wanted children, but Maria – oh my dear Maria, she had to have one, you know, because you weren't good enough, Claudia, of course, and really why would you be? Your mother was a whore. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Will. YOU. STOP!!" Johnny screamed, tearing at his hair. Claudia had lowered herself to the floor and was rocking herself. Anthony didn't stop.

"Oh, but not your mother, Johnny. She was no whore. Oh God, she was beautiful. She had a smile like sunshine, and a voice so gentle. And her laugh. Oh, my heart used to flutter." His demeanour changed. "But of course, she was a traitorous bitch, so I shot her in the head. She would be so disappointed in you, Johnny. Screw up. Such a screw up. Both of you. I should have never had children. Oh well. Too late now," he giggled. "We're all gonna die! So long, my children! See you in hell!" He laughed maniacally and rolled himself out of the room

Patrick checked the output of several monitors and nodded to himself.

"Okay, good job, team. Good job." He said, ripping off a slightly bloody plastic smock and throwing it in the waste container along with a pair of latex gloves. "Epiphany, I need those surgical consent forms. I'm going to go and talk to the parents now."

"Coming right up, Doctor Drake." Epiphany piped, and followed him out the door, leaving Nurse Elizabeth Webber alone with Michael. Elizabeth couldn't leave. All she could do is stare.

"You're going to be alright, Michael. Just hold on a little bit longer, okay?" She wished that she sounded more confident. The horrible thing about it was that she could only think about her own boys, and what it would be like to see them being wheeled into this place pale and bloody, bullets lodged in their brains. She couldn't stop picturing Cameron on the swings. Jake crawling in the grass. Gunshots. Horrible gunshots. She squeezed Michael's hand.

Jason Morgan bolted through the doors of the ER with deadly determination. Fear and anger bubbled inside of him, and he practically knocked down an orderly to get to the Nurse's Station. Sonny had called him from the ambulance, and his cell phone had not stopped ringing since. Carly. Robin. Liz. Bobbie. Mike.

"Where's Michael? Where's Carly?" he demanded of Epiphany, who was placing some forms on a clipboard.

"Down that hallway. Follow me, I'm going there anyway." Epiphany strode down the hallway, at what seemed a far too relaxed pace. When Jason got there, he saw a small crowd huddled around Patrick Drake, clutching each other.

"…managed to get him into stable condition, and stop some of the bleeding, but the bullet is lodged in Michael's brain, and we need to remove it, and any blood that has built up, and stop the bleeding. It's complicated, and it might be a long surgery, but it's imperative that we do it quickly, while he's stable, to limit any brain damage."

Carly started sobbing again and clung to Bobbie. Jason walked up to her and placed a supportive hand on her back. Carly turned around and flung herself into Jason's arms.

"Jason! Oh, my baby boy!"

Lucky left the seventeenth message on Lulu's cell phone and silently cursed the teenager for never answering his calls. He clicked his cell phone shut as a uniformed officer trotted up to him with a report.

"We found some gunshot residue and some hair and footprints in the storage area that we are going to process, and we're taking a look at that railing like you asked."

"Good put a rush on everything. I want answers today."

Lulu took a headphone out of her ear and looked at her cell phone. Lucky. Again. Probably wanting to warn her …yet again…about Johnny. Or wanting to know where she was and what she was doing. He was her brother, not her father. She rolled her eyes, and then stuck the earplug back inside her ear, flipping open her magazine. Her cell phone went off again. She picked it up, and was going to throw it against the wall until she noticed that it was a text message.

From Johnny: I NEED U NOW. C ME? AT HOME. COME NOW. PLZ.

It was nice to be needed. Lulu grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

Johnny paced one of the upper balconies of the mansion. Looking out, half-crazed at the road. He was going to die tonight. Someone was going to sneak up behind him and put a bullet in his head and there was nothing he could do about it. His father was right. He was a screw up of epic proportions. He should jump right now and do the world a favour, but he wanted to see Lulu just one more time first. Just one more time.

"I need permission to do the surgery." Patrick looked from person to person, impatiently.

"Y-yeah. Do it. Do what you've gotta do. Save my son." Sonny muttered bleakly. Nodding, Patrick strode back into Michael's room, not wanting to waste a second.

"We need someone to fill out these forms, giving the hospital permission to do the surgery. Here's one for Michael's medical history, and one for insurance information." Epiphany held out the clipboard, but both Sonny and Carly looked at it as if it was a hundred pound weight.

"I'll take it, Epiphany." Bobbie said, steering Carly back toward the emergency room lounge, leaving Jason with Sonny and Robin in the hallway. "It's alright Carly. I can fill out most of it, but I need you to help me, okay? You can answer a few questions?"

Jason looked questioningly at Sonny.

"What happened?"

"What happened? What happened? I could ask you the same thing, Jason. What happened? What happened in my warehouse? What happened to the security in that place?" Sonny looked at Jason menacingly.

"What was Michael even DOING there?" Jason fired back. "You KNOW better. We don't involve children in the business. What was he doing at that warehouse tonight?"

"It was my idea," whispered Kate, who had just walked into the hallway. The three looked up at her. She was on the verge of tears. "Oh, Sonny, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." She ran up to him but as soon as she touched his arm, he recoiled.

"You know what, Kate? It IS your fault. It's your fault for bringing him into the warehouse, and it's Jason's fault for not doing his job and protecting that warehouse…but do you know whose fault it REALLY is Kate? Do you?!" he yelled. "It's MINE! It's MY fault, because that bullet should have been in MY head, Kate. That boy has done nothing – NOTHING!! The only reason that that boy has a bullet in his brain is because he's MY SON. And I'm going to find the bastard who did this, and that man is a DEAD man!"

Sonny stormed off.

Johnny leaned against his car door, staring off to space rocking back and forth as Lulu approached. When he saw her, he smiled nervously, taking her into his arms.

"So…you uhh…needed me, huh?" Lulu flirted. Johnny's grin grew wider. He knew what he was going to do now.

"Run away with me!" he said, desperately, determinedly. Lulu crinkled her forehead at him.

"You want me to…run away with you? And you lost your mind…when?"

"Just…let's get in the car, and drive. I want to take you out driving. Let's just get in the car and go on an adventure…leave the world behind. Just you and me. No packing, no plans, just see where the road takes us. There's a place that I know. I haven't shown you it before. It's way out in the country. It's perfectly quiet. Not a person for miles. You can look up and see every star in the sky. It's beautiful. Please, just say you'll come with me?" Johnny was intense. Lulu looked at him dubiously, but slid into the car when he held open the door for her.

The crowd in the waiting room had grown into a small, mournful wake. Carly sat sandwiched in between Bobbie and Mike, head in Bobbie's lap. Mercedes sat in the corner, rocking a slumbering Morgan. Max and Milo stood unassumingly outside the door, casual, but obviously there for protection. Their shoulders sagged. They looked defeated. Robin paced in the hallway, watching Jason calmly giving orders to someone on the end of his cell phone.

"I want guards on all the houses, the warehouses, the safe houses. I want guards on the hospital. And I want to know who was responsible for this shooting, and I want them removed."

Patrick's complete focus and concentration was on the tiny, deformed piece of metal wedged in the side of Michael's frontal lobe. With impossibly slow movements, he had massaged brain matter away from the bullet, and now carefully moved it…just a little…a little more. Suddenly blood gurgled up out of nowhere.

"Suction now!"

"Pressure's dropping doctor."

Warning alarms went off as the machinery flashed that something was horribly wrong.

Port Charles: 3am

You wake up to the sound of alarms

And you're driving your fabulous car

Listening to the music that reminds you

You used to be young. You used to be young.

"…just let the guards to their job. They were instructed not to bother you unless there's a problem. Yeah, yeah…just tell Kristina I love her, will you? Thanks. Bye."

Sonny hung up his cell phone and looked up at the Zacchara mansion. He had left a similar message for Morgan. Now he was going to get the bastards who did this. They would die, each and every one of them. He took the safety off of his gun and walked in.

And now you're searching, for a sign with your name
To define you the king of the game
What will you do when there's nothing left
For you to earn and for you to learn

So dose me up once is not enough
I can still see the ground
And from this high rise view looking down on you
I'm not the one wasting my time

He found Claudia on the floor of the den, tears streaming down her face, staring at nothing, rocking back and forth. He pointed the gun. When she saw him, she looked up and laughed. She almost looked relieved. Sonny tried to squeeze the trigger. Wild rage stormed inside his head, but she looked pathetic.

"DO YOU KNOW WHY I'M HERE?! DO YOU?!" he screamed at her. She cowered.

"I know why you're here!" Anthony Zacchara was practically gleeful. "You're going to send us to Hell!!" he clapped his hands, and then considered a thought that just occurred to him. "You know, I thought it would be the tall fellow, you know, the one who looks like he chews rocks for breakfast. Your enforcer. The one that looks like death in a leather jacket. I thought he'd be the one to send us there, but you're a pleasant surprise, Mr. Corinthos. I can respect the kind of man who takes care of business himself. I see you've met my daughter the whore. My son is around here somewhere …I think. But you see, Mr. Corinthos, I knew you were coming, so I cooked up a little surprise!" he giggled. He pulled out an empty gasoline canister from behind his wheelchair, and threw it across the room, where it fell on a pile of others.

"See you in Hell, Mr. Corinthos! See you in Hell!" Anthony Zacchara flicked the switch on his lighter, and cackled, throwing it high into the air.

Ian Devlin turned down another country road, and sped forward. He had to get out of here. He'd managed to evade the police so far. He'd stay on the back roads until he hit Canada, and then he'd find a town so small it wasn't even on the map. He was a dead man. Nervously, he flicked on the radio, and then squinted out the windshield at what looked like a fire in the distance.

And every culture has its own magazine
And information takes the place of your dreams
Finding ways to fill up the silence
But it's all that you need turn on your TV

Flames licked through the night sky. Down the road, he saw headlights. He cut his headlights, but kept driving. The car was coming pretty fast. Maybe they wouldn't even notice him.

"Wooooohoooooo!! This is amazing Johnny!!" Lulu threw her hands in the air, and looked adoringly at him. Focusing momentarily on her rear view mirror to fix her hair, she noticed something in the distance behind them and her eyes grew wide. Smoke and flames lapped at the place they had left not five minutes earlier.

"Johnny!!" she shrieked, "Oh my God, Johnny!! Your HOUSE!!" She shook his arm.

So dose me up once is not enough
I can still see the ground
And from this high rise view looking down on you
I'm not the one wasting my time

He looked behind them. Fire. His sister. He swerved. The crash shattered

They never did see the car in the other lane with its headlights out.

This is the end of the world news.

Song lyrics: Tom McRae – End of the World News.

Who will live? Who will die? All on the next General Hospital: Rewritten. Feedback makes me happy.