A/N: I have no rights or affiliation with the characters presented within this piece

Asked and Answered

Sonny's POV:

It was beyond ridiculous to be having this discussion, to be in this situation. How the hell had things gotten so messed up that he had to be standing here in this room even asking the goddamned question? He looked over at him, trying to read his response, his reaction in his expression.

Everyone said Jason was enigmatic -"Stone Cold" as that idiot kid had dubbed him. He had never been inscrutable to Sonny though. Oh no, he could read Jason like a book-if he had ever bothered to read one that is. The tiny little mannerisms-his body language, the color and expression in those amazing eyes, the presence or absence of frown lines-all conspired to tell Sonny what his friend, brother, right hand man was thinking, feeling and even what was likely to come out of his mouth-in as few words as possible of course.

Lately, these last months and years, there had been some new behaviors that he had acquired. For instance, ever since Jason had cut his hands to ribbons pulling Elizabeth Webber (he had quite the rescue complex) out of the shattered back window of a car teetering on the brink of a bridge he had developed a new nervous tic. He had a real tendency to scrub his hands together or to look down at the intertwined fingers of the left and the right hand and read them like they were fucking tea leaves or something. Sonny had no clue what it was all about, didn't want to know because it was all part of the "new" Jason and Sonny didn't understand him, didn't trust him, and wasn't sure he even liked him. No, one of Sonny's major goals in life was to get the original Jason back not this sanctimonious SOB standing across the living room from him being so damn mysterious.

If he had to pick a particular Jason vintage, he thought he might like the one circa the late nineties or the early twenty-first century. Whenever he was back in town and squarely in Sonny's corner, those were good times. Back when he wasn't questioning orders, using his own initiative (there was only room for one person at the helm and Jason used to be clear about that as well), or just plain getting in Sonny's face.

In those days, Sonny was the undisputed mob kingpin of Port Charles and Jason was his loyal lieutenant ready and willing to do whatever was asked of him from killing someone to settling Carly's ruffled feathers to babysitting Michael. He was an all service second in command, renowned and feared (and rightfully so) throughout the mafia world of the eastern seaboard. Sonny had created him, had taken in an angry, brain damaged kid and had sculpted a lethal weapon out of him.

Yet, if that were all there had been to it, this…whatever this was, wouldn't hurt nearly so badly. Jason had been his-Sonny's-all the way. He had left his family for him and had chosen Sonny to be his mentor, his brother, his surrogate father. Sonny had guided and taught and shielded the kid. Then when he had grown into a man there had been some rough patches, some testing of the boundaries of the relationship. Still, it had never amounted to much and a sharp tug on the reins had always brought Jason back in line. Those were the glory days when Sonny had proposed and Jason disposed-often literally.

Eventually, Jason had removed the bit from his mouth and their association had altered. Then it had been more difficult to control him, not that Sonny consciously thought of it as controlling him. No, it was more a case of he was the one that was in charge, knew the right approach, the correct strategy and it was Jason's job to carry it through to completion. Except that more and more it didn't work that way, wasn't as smooth as it had always been. No, Jason developed an independent streak, came up with his own ideas and opinions-maybe, if Sonny had never left the business in his hands… It had never seemed to be a problem, every time Sonny got back from wherever-business trips, romantic idylls on the island-Jason handed everything back to him and appeared relieved to no longer have the responsibility, the burden of command.

Sonny hadn't forgotten Jason's reaction when he had gotten involved with his younger sister Emily. That time was not an example of either one's finest hour. They had fought with each other like little children over a shiny new toy. Jason had continually played the safety card and Sonny had said that Emily was an adult and could make her own decisions. Anyway, he wanted to know-what about Jason's rule that people made their own choices and let the chips fall where they might?

Meanwhile, Emily had tried to mediate, and when that failed she had stood by Sonny. Jason had retaliated by taking Sonny's organization away from him in order to use it as leverage to make him give Emily up. In the end, Sonny had set Emily free against her wishes and Jason had returned the organization to him.

Looking back on it, Sonny could see that time as a harbinger of the "new" Jason-this man currently standing in front of him. Someone invested with arrogance, with a faulty memory-this wasn't about brain damage-who didn't seem to recall how much he owed Sonny.

"I made you plain and simple," Sonny said to himself with heat, "You were just a punk that didn't know enough to come in out of the rain and this is what it comes down to… All those years, everything we shared, I trusted you with my life. I brought you into my home, treated you like family. I taught you every aspect of this business, the life, the code-you sure didn't seem to absorb that part of things," he thought grimly. "It's not a piece of clothing that you decide you suddenly don't like and toss it into the trash. You live by it and you die by it and that's what'll happen to you, if you do this Jason. I won't be able to stop it even if I wanted to which I don't see why I should considering that we are in this situation because of that freaky boy. I should never have allowed him through the door of my office the first time he showed up. I was in charge and I should have seen he was trouble. Still, I never thought he would be the one to bring down Jason, to bring us to this…"

Looking up, Sonny stared at Jason-who was still silent, who hadn't responded to his question whose face was still guarded and unreadable. All Sonny could see in his features was exhaustion, a deep seated fatigue. There were circles under his eyes and the bones of face stood out prominently. He was unshaven and the indentation between his eyes was more deeply etched than Sonny had ever before seen it. At least he appeared to be battling over this decision.

He supposed it hadn't been easy for him but that was the part that Sonny didn't get, couldn't get… How could one stupid, disposable computer hacker mean even one tenth to Jason of what Sonny did? He had only been around a little over two years. Sonny absolutely knew that if he had asked him to that Jason would have kicked him to the curb for him in the first six months of their association. He thought that it might have been the Metro Court hostage situation when things started to change, when Jason began to turn to Spinelli. At first it had been for what he could do for him, for them with that magic black box of his. That was the real reason why Sonny hadn't gotten rid of him sooner, his strength was in recognizing and exploiting talent. So, maybe some of this was on him, was his fault.

He should have seen what the little geek was doing as he wormed his way into all aspects of Jason's world-living with him, working with him, learning his secrets. Sonny's fists curled in impotent anger as he remembered the first time he realized that Spinelli knew something significant about Jason, about his life that Sonny wasn't privy to. He had tried to cozy up to the kid, made friendly overtures to him. All the while his teeth were on edge and the kid said absolutely nothing of importance while babbling on about gods and goddesses and making Sonny's head hurt. When the secret had been revealed that Jason had a son with Elizabeth Webber and that Spinelli had known it all along, Sonny had been devastated, hurt beyond belief. Jason had come up with some lame excuse that he hadn't wanted Sonny to know because he would try and talk him into claiming Jake, into being a father to him-like that was a bad thing. The nerd seemed to do the exact same thing, tried to get Jason to own up to his paternity but somehow that wasn't a problem-oh, no, he got a free pass to say what he would without recrimination. Sonny thought that might have been the point where his disdain, his dislike of Spinelli had transformed into a complex combination of hatred and jealousy.

He couldn't stand to be around him. That fine full blown friendship and brotherhood that Jason and he had shared was exploding in his face. To add insult to injury, he was forced to watch as Jason appeared to replace it with a pale imitation of the real thing. Spinelli was always around, bursting into the office calling out "Stone Cold!" with no discernment, no respect for boundaries. All of it was compounded by his bizarre appearance-his dumb floppy hair and plaid shorts and the way he talked like a clown!

Then there was Jason who didn't seem to mind the kid interrupting, who showed endless patience listening to his droning and whining who even went around protecting him against people that wanted to beat him up or hurt him. With a pathetic loser like Spinelli something like that happened daily and there was Jason stepping up and physically pulling people off him or growling at them to leave him alone or they'd answer to him.

Sonny smiled coldly as he remembered the time he had rammed Spinelli's head into the wall at Crimson after he dared to try and talk to him about Michael and Morgan, about what was best for his sons! No way was Sonny going to listen to anything coming out of that little punk's mouth concerning his kids. Why he got to be strutting around whole and healthy while Michael was in a permanent coma was beyond his comprehension. He hadn't felt one moment of remorse. Kate had stopped him from doing anything else to the freak and he supposed he was grateful because he sure as hell wasn't worth spending a second in a holding cell for.

Then there was the time that he had yelled at him after he had walked in on Kate and him having relations at the Crimson offices. The kid had no boundaries, no tact. He dared to bring it up again at the coffee shop office, where Sonny was reduced to being a visitor to his own organization. His pride was injured and he snarled at the geek, letting his feelings get the better of him. He called him names and this time he did it in front of Jason. He beat the kid down emotionally until he slunk out of the door like a whipped stray dog. Again he felt no compunction, just anger and disbelief when Jason got in his face about what he did, tried to call him on it. He talked to him with anger and disrespect-him, his mentor and friend-and for what-that crawling piece of dirt Spinelli!

Sonny couldn't count the numbers of times these last few months that he had tried to reconcile with Jason, had even tried to help him. He'd gone to the office when Jason was arrested and attempted to find out why so he could set things right, do something useful. Again Spinelli was there, got in his way, he seemed to have grown a pair at a most inconvenient time. He had told Sonny in his usual mealy mouthed way that unless Jason wanted him to know what was going on he couldn't say anything. Shocked and frustrated, Sonny had turned and left disgusted at the ruin his once proud organization had become with techno geeks and fashion assistants having free reign of the place while Jason was chilling at the PCPD.

Still, he persevered and tried again. He had been civil to the kid at his and Kate's wedding, he had spoken to him courteously and told him he wasn't half bad. Then he had to deal with him getting all goofy and going overboard but he hadn't minded, it was his wedding day and he was so proud and happy. Then there was Kate lying at the altar blood staining her dress and Sonny's first, his only impulse was to call for Jason. He had come immediately and had put his men, even the hacker onto the situation. That was the moment, grief stricken and angry as he was, that Sonny thought everything was going to be okay that the rift between them was healed.

He couldn't have been more wrong. Jason refused to listen to Sonny, wouldn't go after the Russians, claimed that a Russian shell casing wasn't enough proof of their culpability, said he needed incontrovertible evidence before initiating a mob war. Sonny just stared at him in incredulity. He couldn't do anything about it right then and Jason refused to take any action. He needed to see to Kate first and then he would take care of what his friend, his brother wouldn't.

All through their exchanges, their confrontations Spinelli had been a silent shadow hugging his ever present laptop, conversing with Jason about searches and strategies. Afterwards, Jason would send him home for his own safety, not wanting him to get hurt. Back in the day, Sonny and Jason had been a true team-they shared the danger, had each other's backs and it was none of this cyber crap-hacking into records, data bases, security cameras and whatever the hell else…

Sonny had gone after Karpov, had done what a man was supposed to do. So, what the hell did it matter that it turned out he wasn't responsible, the facts had indicated he was and when Karpov stabbed him all bets were off. Sonny had taken him out and had formed an alliance with the Zacchara family. If Jason wasn't going to let him back in or help him then he'd find someone that would.

The war with the Russians had come and ironically, they had focused entirely on Jason's operation leaving Sonny and the Zacchara's out of it. Sonny had been upset when Jason's son had been kidnapped but Jason had gotten him back just like Sonny would have expected him to. The nerd had the audacity to walk into Sonny Corinthos' living room not once but twice-though he hadn't been there the first time-like he had a right, like Sonny was going to deal with him, put up with any of the incomprehensible bullshit that passed for talking with him. The second visit Spinelli had told him and Claudia that Jake was back home. Sonny was truly glad to hear it but he wished anyone in the world except the hacker was delivering the news. He seemed to believe he was some kind of fucking emissary from the U.N. and that the return of Jake somehow also meant a return of peace between him and Jason. That was rich coming from the person that as far as Sonny was concerned was largely responsible for the majority of Jason's changed behavior, attitude and poor choices. It looked like all the kid's hero worship had gone to his head. It was only Claudia's presence-she had an inexplicable soft spot for Spinelli-that prevented him from taking him by the scruff of the neck and evicting him from his house. Instead, he had listened to him babble with as much patience as he could and then sent him on his way. That was the last time Sonny had seen Spinelli and as far as he was concerned never laying eyes on him again sounded really good.

Things had stayed bad between him and Jason, really maybe even had deteriorated. Jason had asked Sonny to quit the Zacchara's and Sonny had said sure, easily just like that. He was assuming that the request meant that he was back in the organization, back in the business that he had built up from nothing at the cost of more sweat, tears and actual blood than any one person should ever have to pay. But no, that wasn't Jason's intent at all, he just wanted him to quit, to become a civilian again to lose the bright lights and the adrenalin flow and the power. Power was the strongest drug, the best aphrodisiac Sonny had ever found. Power was his birthright-it was that simple-and Jason who had known him longest and best just didn't seem to have the first clue.

Besides, Sonny thought that Jason did protest too much. He always talked about the business like it was a chore, a responsibility-something he had to do, employees he had to keep safe, some sort of nine to five line of bullshit. He knew better though, he had been corrupted. He had discovered the lure of being in charge, of having the most strength around-being the alpha male. Well, Sonny could understand that but he hated that Jason was so hypocritical that he couldn't just stand there and admit the way it was-Mr. I-can't-possibly-tell-a-lie Jason Morgan wasn't even being honest with himself!

So, Sonny had decided to call him on his double standard, to let him know how he wasn't fooling Sonny one iota. While Jason stood there in his living room he had picked up a phone and he had called in an order to land a shipment not on a Corinthos-Zacchara pier but on a Morgan pier. Jason had let him, had said it was because it was Michael's birthday that he wouldn't confront Sonny this once, a weak excuse for a weak man-something he had never thought to think with regard to Jason Morgan.

Perversely, Sonny had decided to do it again, Jason would never go against him-never. After all, he only existed at Sonny's pleasure. Yet, Jason had responded. He had blown up the Zacchara ship before it had ever reached the dock. Sonny was actually happy at Jason's fiery response; it meant that his former protégé hadn't gone entirely soft on him. Now, he could tackle the battle to reclaim his rightful position as the sole head of the Corinthos organization with zest, it would be a battle between worthy adversaries. Yet, there could be no doubt to the outcome-Sonny would prevail.

Well, that was then-what was it, hours ago, yesterday, days before, he didn't know anymore-and this was now. He could get Jason coming after him with angry words, with fists, even a gun or a knife but this…this was beyond the pale. Kill each other? Maybe so, after all the line between love and hate could get stretched so thin it became invisible… That was a man's reaction in a man's world-difficult but conceivable, understandable. Yet, there could never be an excuse for this-not this utter betrayal, this breaking of the most sacred part of the code-thou shalt not snitch!

Sonny's heart was broken as he looked across the room at the man he had once thought was more important to him than almost anyone, how low he had fallen and why? The answer was easy and despicable. It consisted of one word-Spinelli. He was doing all this for that freak of nature, that punk that had emasculated the finest enforcer Sonny and most of his comrades had ever encountered.

He briefly thought about going after him, taking him out. If the kid didn't exist than there was no need for snitching. Jason would grieve but deep down Sonny believed he would be glad to be rid of the kid, of the intolerable position that he had placed him in due to his indiscretion, his inability to keep his trap shut-ever! Sonny personally thought the planet would be an infinitely better place minus one Damian Spinelli. He could do it morally that wasn't the issue in the least. Actually, he knew it wouldn't cost him a single moment's lost sleep. Sonny was pragmatic though and he knew it would be quite likely that suspicion would come to roost on him and this was the feds not the local keystone cops. Besides, the way he was acting these days, Sonny couldn't be sure that Jason wouldn't be leading the lynch mob except that instead of a noose he would come for him with that shiny silver phallic weapon of choice with a silencer attached…

So, it all came down to the question. Sonny couldn't imagine there could be any answer besides a negative one, there simply couldn't because otherwise it would mean that he had wasted twenty years of his life, that he had never understood this man with the tortured eyes standing in front of him. He needed to say it again, he needed to get a response, he needed to hear the word no.

Licking his dry lips, Sonny's black eyes drilled into Jason's cerulean blue ones and he asked, hating the small tremor in his voice as he spoke, "Is it worth it to save Spinelli?"