Okay people, same old same old, don't own them they belong to ABC, General Hospital and the Disney Company, but I'm taking them out of the toy box to play with. No harm intended, so don't sue.
This is a very short one shot story that I think should have taken place at the end of 11/21/07 GH but wasn't. I just think the Jason Spinelli friendship makes a very interesting story like none other on day time and I just wanted to take them out for a test ride and show a side of their closeness no one else can see. And a word of advice, anyone wanting to test their dialog writing abilities should try writing Spinelli just once for the experience. I only hope I did him justice here.
This story is not beta read and written in one afternoon, so please excuse and spelling and or grammar errors. Reviews are welcomed, but please no flames.
JaSpin: The Missing Thanksgiving Scene 2007
When he arrived back at the penthouse, the lights were as dim as the night sky outside. At first he thought that he might be alone in the large apartment, but he remembered seeing the motorcycle in the parking garage beneath the building in its usual parking space when he returned the SUV that he was allowed to use as his own personal vehicle while he was staying here.
The apartment was usually kept cool as Jason had long since lost any real sense of temperatures after his brain injuries, but still he kept the place at a reasonable temperature for his roommates and house guest. But now there was a fire in the fireplace with one solemn figure slouched before it. The fire had not been lit since the absence of the goddess several months earlier and even with as little as he knew about romance, Damian Spinelli knew that when Stonecold was getting his groove on, the place would be littered with carefully place candles of various shapes and forms scatted about the room. There were still several lingering around, but they remained unlit. Having lived with the sensitive hired gun for nearly a year already, he knew that a dark room meant for a dark mood in his mentor.
"Stonecold?" Spinelli stepped forward cautiously after closing the door and placing his keys on the desk. "It is I," he spoke carefully as not to startle the quick draw, "the grasshopper…" he started but stop remembering how Jason hated when he referred to himself as such. "It's me Spinelli."
"I know who it is," Jason's somber and nearly horsed voice came from the shadow before the fireplace.
"Are," Spinelli spoke with his nervous hands. "Are you well?"
"I'm fine," Jason tried his best not to snap back his words at his faithful friend.
"Well excuse me for pointing this out," Spinelli took a few more steps forward as if he were stepping from slippery rock to rock across a river bed. "But one does not sit stoically silent and alone before a roaring fire in the dark when they are well." He added a nervous giggle to his sentence.
In truth Spinelli trusted Jason like no one else in the world and they had both proven the worth of the trust by placing their lives on the line for each other, but when Stonecold went to his stone cold silent place, it still unnerved the skittish smaller man to no end.
"I just want to be alone," Jason's soft voice could be heard over the crackling of the fire. "You can just go up to your room. I'm okay."
"As much as the allure of the pink room beckoning me at the moment," Spinelli was now at his side and could see the shine of Jason's sad face in the glow of the flames. "I have great and dire concerns for the not stone cold one at the moment."
"I said I'm fine," Jason repeated picking up the poker and poking at the fire from where it laid by his side along with a large gun that caught Spinelli's eye when he moved. "Just go upstairs and I'll see you in the morning." He put it back in place.
"Why?" His voice broke as he spoke. "Why is there a gun seated at your side?" He asked with his hands toying before him with the fingers from his other hand breaking only once to point at the silver object. "Is there cause to worry?"
"No," it took Jason a moment to respond looking down briefly at the gun. "I just forgot to put it in the box before I sat down. You don't have to worry; no one is going to be breaking in tonight."
"As much as that would give the Jackal pause to worry," Spinelli spoke trying to close the space between them standing over his friend. "My concern was more of the personal nature in regards to your own self inflicted safety."
Jason glanced down at the gun and back up at him. "I'm not suicidal Spinelli." His voice was filled with anger. "I'm upset, but I am not that depressed."
"Of course," Damian said slipping down next to him on the floor to lean against the back on the large chair like Jason was doing moving his shoulder bag around carefully and placing it on the floor before him. "But be cheerful because I come baring a Thanksgiving feast."
Not saying a word, Jason watched as he pulled several small containers of various foods from their careful placement in his computer bag. "I was a bit concern that some of these would open during the transit," he spoke as he pulled them out. "But the ever faithful friend Georgie and I wanted to make sure that the stone cold one did not miss out on the holiday array of foods, so we packed a little of everything."
Picking up one container and holding it up to the light, Jason shook the yellow substance within it. "What the hell is that?"
"Oh," Spinelli eyes lit up with his mentor's interest. "That would be corn soup to go along with the maple candy." He gushed pointing at another container. "Traditional thanks giving fare," he rolled his eyes once flipping his free hand. "If you go back to the first Thanksgiving feast, that is."
"It looks gross," Jason responded placing it back down.
"Perhaps," he shrugged in return. "But it can be quite tasty in the right mind set, although the lawful commissioner insisted I remove all the remains from his house on my departure."
"I can see why," Jason remarked turning his attention back to the fire. "But you can just put everything in the kitchen and save it for yourself later."
"But?" Spinelli was concerned. "Perhaps you would care to sample the tasty treats now while they are still warm and ready for the eating?"
"I'm not hungry," was all the response he gave.
"Forgive me for my presumptuousness," Spinelli said placing it back on the floor and then turning to him. "But it did not escape my attention during breakfast that you did not partake in the meal of Corn Pops and toast, and judging from your somber mood, I would hazard to think you have not eaten anything since."
"I'm fine," Jason snapped.
"Okay," he actually slipped back a few inches at the harshness of the spoken words. "But with case in point, the substance may ease your physical pain if only for the briefest of moments to remind yourself that things will get better."
"My sister is dead," Jason looked at him in the eyes for the first time. "Emily was sweat and kind and never hurt another living soul in her life, but now she's a dead corpse on a slab in the morgue. Don't tell me things will get better."
Spinelli's eyes drifted down for a moment. "Forgive me Stonecold," he spoke softly. It is true that I have no real personal experience to draw upon to identify with your lost, but it doesn't seem to me that fair Emily would wish for you to starve yourself or be so grief stricken at her passing to the point of risking your own wellbeing."
"Emily cared very deeply for everyone," he continued. "But perhaps even more so for her ever strong and faithful brother. I knew her very briefly and mostly in passing, but I don't think it would do her heart well to see you in such dire straits."
"Your right," Jason's eyes returned to the fire. "You didn't know Emily."
Spinelli sat silent for a moment watching the fire along with Jason drinking in the warmth in the cool room.
"Forgive me for presuming I knew the fair Emily," he finally spoke again. "But tis true that perhaps no one knew her as well as you and perhaps prince Nicholas and maybe fair nurse Elizabeth. But perhaps you could enlighten me on how she would prefer for you to react to her passing."
When Jason looked over at him, Spinelli had a new sense of ease about himself with his legs pulled up and his hands draped out straighten across them. It took a moment for him to return the look, but when he did; his eyes were large and filled with understanding showing the intelligent and wise side of the man child that too few besides the two of them were aware of.
"She was a good person," Jason finally spoke softly. "And I loved her. How am I going to go on without her in my life Spinelli?"
"I don't think she is truly gone," Spinelli said with a sigh. "I mean in the physical sense yes, but I think that the parts of Emily that really mattered are still all around us now."
He paused to make sure Jason was still listening and he was. "I mean it is like when a computer crashes and we have to reboot everything and the system is back in its original store bought form. All the files and information are gone and seemingly lost forever. But in truth, nothing is really gone, but imbedding so deep in the hard drive, that only the most dedicated and knowledgeable of persons can retrieve any portion of those files."
Jason didn't say anything but just watched his friend with a renewed sense of why he really was his best friend.
"Emily is not gone Stonecold," he tapped his finger on Jason's chest. "She is still deeply ingrained on your internal hard drive just waiting to be accessed whenever you need to feel or hear some small portion of her eternal wisdom. It will take a little time and horning of your inner abilities, but I know that if you really want to, you will feel her presence again."
"Monaca," Jason's voice nearly cracked. "She thinks it my fault that Emily is gone, and I think I agree with her."
"The Quatermain matriarch is dealing with the great lost of fair Emily just as everyone else is," Spinelli spoke again. "But she is like a rogue battle commander in a video game right now. She is lashing out at everything and everyone around her that even remotely resembles a foe in hopes of hitting the one true enemy who could do her the most harm, and right now for her that is you and perhaps the Godfather for beckoning to the evil dark Zacchara to come to Port Charles."
"Doctor Monica will see the error of her deduction once she recognizes that her true arch enemy in all of this is her own failing of not being able to protect her fair Emily when the imbedded mother's nature of her soul is convinced that she could have," Damian told him with the all assuredness of his own wisdom that was far beyond his years.
"When I first woke up," Jason spoke much to both of their surprise after a few minutes. "Emily and Monica were both there trying to support me and help me regain the memories of the Jason they remembered, but even when he didn't come back, they and Lila were the only ones who accepted me for the new person I was when all the other Qurtermains kept trying to dig up their old son," his head slipped down to his chest. "And now they're all gone. Lila, Emily and now Monica want no part of me."
Jason's knees came up to meet his chest and he buried his head in his arms across them. There was no sound, but his heavy breathing, but the sight of his mentor and protector in tears before him gave Spinelli pause to worry for his friend. He had seen Jason Morgan go through a lot of hardships in there short year together including the lost of his father, the disillusion of his love for the goddess and even the secret pain of his giving up his son, but never before had he been allowed to witness such grief in the stone cold one.
"Stonecold," Spinelli spoke softly leaning in. "Can I get you something?"
There was no response from the larger man as he continued to sit silently with a quick shaking of his shoulder from time to time like as if a shiver was passing up his spine. The smaller man did not know what he could possibly do to aid his friend through this time of trouble. In truth, it had always been Jason who had the wise and sage advice to make his feel better. He was not armed with any gift of comfort beyond the knowledge found in cyberspace, but he knew such wisdom would not help his mentor.
Spinelli slipped a little closer lifting his arms. "Forgive me for my presumptuousness again oh great master and usually stone cold one, but I see no other way of aiding in your grievous moment."
Slowly Spinelli lowered his arms again as they were wrapped around his large and formally stronger friend and leaned in trying to give him as much comfort as his smaller form could bring. At first Jason seemed to stiffen up at the touch for a few seconds, be before either of them realized, he had soften and even leaned into Damien's embrace. After a few more seconds, Jason's arms slipped out from each other and wrapped around the smaller body pulling him closer as he buried his face in Spinelli's shoulder.
There was no real sound of sobbing heard, but the slight dampness from Jason's eyes was settling into Spinelli's shirt as he continued to hold his friend close and even patted the hair on the back of his head trying to say comforting words in his ears from time to time.
The two men sat in the dark like this for several minutes before Jason finally pulled himself away wiping his eyes with his hands and leaning back on the chairs back again. He didn't say anything but simply stared at the fire.
It was a while before Spinelli felt as if he should say something, but his earlier bout of wisdom seemed to have slipped away and he sat dumbfounded again. He took a deep breath and finally said, "I should leave you alone for a while."
Just as he was about to stand, Jason pulled him back down to his side.
"Stonecold?" He was surprised.
"Are those things still warm?" Jason's tired voice spoke barely above a whisper pointing at the containers.
"Sure," a large smile wiped across Spinelli's face. "I even have eating tools," he pulled two complete set of silverware from his bag. "Faithful friend Georgie was sure that we didn't have any in the house even though I assured her otherwise."
Jason took a fork and held it up. "Where do we want to start," he asked eyeing the containers. "And not with that corn soup crap."
"Ah," Spinelli open one of the serving bowls. "Perhaps with the true nectar of the gods. Smooth, sliceable and shaped like the can cranberry sauce."
"Give me," Jason half smiled taking the container as Spinelli began to spread the others between the two of them and they began to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner together in the darkness of the penthouse before the roaring fire.
Jason barley spoke another word as Spinelli rambled on about the events of his day and his desire for the blond one to be there with them, but every now again he would just glance over at the boy as he continued to talk unabashed about subjected matter that he really didn't care about, but a small part of him was thankful for the company even with all its small annoyances as they ate. The night waned on and the fire died, but still Spinelli kept sharing his thoughts and ideas as Jason sat silently listening and hiding his half smile as best as he could.
The End