2030
Morgan Corinthos was born to shoot a gun. His first brush with mob violence happened right before he was born, when his father shot his mother in the head while giving birth. Almost five years passed before someone who shouldn't have been in the line of fire got shot. That time it was his older brother Michael. And here he was, almost thirty and he was in the line of fire - again.
Morgan pressed himself further against a crate, making himself as small as possible. He forced himself not to move as a bullet hit the wall less than three feet from his head. His eyes darted around Pier 27 trying to figure out how many people were there. From what he could pick out, there were two people firing at him, and one person with him, making it a grand total of four people at this party. All he needed was one clean shot. It would only take one shot to make an example and then the others would leave. "One, two, three - " Morgan silently counted the seconds between gunfire trying to distinguish a pattern with the shooter.
He was fourteen the first time he picked up a gun. Considering what happened to his brother Michael, he should've been terrified of guns. He was barely five years old when Michael was shot in the head and it was another seven before Michael opened his eyes again. Two years after Michael woke up, he told his mom he wanted to go to the shooting range. Guns were the scary reality of his life. His mom made sure there weren't any guns in the house, and he had limited contact with anyone that used one. His mom was horrified at his request, but he begged and pleaded until she gave in. After all, it was better he learned from professionals than on the streets.
Morgan noticed a movement near the shipment, and he cocked his gun making sure a bullet was in the chamber. The shooter poked his head around the side of the crate and Morgan shook his head as he recognized him, Tony Sorel. He wasn't sure how many times he'd warned Sorel to stay away from his uncle's business and to stay away from these piers. Maybe his name wasn't on the deed, but these piers were his. This was his territory and he'd worked a long time to make sure the Sorels stayed out of the warehouse district.
Pier 27 was the most dangerous pier in the warehouse district. Technically, it was owned by the Zacchara's but for the right price they'd let anyone move anything. He wanted to keep his distance from the Sorels and the Zaccharas, but the nature of his job kept him embroiled in their affairs. Like all Spencers, he was probably a danger junkie. Why else would he be staking out Pier 27? If his mom knew he was out here, she'd probably light a candle or say a prayer. She'd given up asking him to quit his job, it was a waste of breath.
His whole life was ruled by his mother's quest to keep him safe. Everything changed when Michael got shot. His father was pushed out of his life, forced to give him up, but he didn't resent his mother for that. He couldn't. His Uncle Jason was pushed to the fringes of his life, he didn't blame her for that either. It wasn't until after Michael woke up, that Jason started to come around more. He wasn't sure about his mother's logic, but somehow she could keep him and Michael from their dad, but she couldn't keep Michael from Jason.
Morgan slowly nodded, signaling to his partner that he was going to take the next clean shot. He slid slowly down the wall, crouching as he neared the ground. He aimed his gun towards the crate and waited for Tony to make another appearance. Tony emerged from behind the crate and Morgan saw his opportunity, he fired once and a shot came towards him from the opposite direction. Morgan rolled out of the way and fired again. He heard Tony cry out and another voice yell. The man he just hit fell to the ground and he heard his gun hit the ground too. Morgan waited a few seconds to make sure there was no one else around and he got up.
Morgan clicked the safety on his gun and walked over to Sorel. He knelt down next to the lifeless body and checked him for a pulse. He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Good work Detective Corinthos," his partner, Joel Rodriguez said.
Most people were surprised when he enrolled in the cadet program the day after he graduated college. But to anyone that knew him, it wasn't that much of a surprise. His father died of a heart attack when he was fourteen. He supposed he would've mourned his death, except he blamed him for too many things. He blamed him for not protecting his brother, for leaving Michael unguarded that day in the warehouse. He blamed him for not fighting his mother harder to be a part of his life. Mostly, he blamed him for starting a new life so soon after Michael's accident. Besides, it was easy to blame someone you could barely remember.
The summer after his father's death, his Uncle Jason nearly died of a mob hit. A month later, Jason quit the mob. He knew that Jason didn't do it for himself, but because his mom begged him to quit. One year after he quit, his mom finally got the wedding she'd always wanted.
The attempted hit on Jason remained unsolved for over three years. It wasn't until his freshman year of college that there was a break in the case. He'd always thought he wanted to be a doctor. He'd liked science and he wanted to help people like Michael, help that one in ten thousand chance wake up. But once he learned that it was his cousin Lucky who found the shooter, he dropped all his science classes and decided to major in criminal justice.
Morgan stood up, looking down at the man he just killed. A man who barely older than him, a man who was the nephew of Joseph Sorel, one of his father's former enemies. "He alive?" Morgan asked, gesturing towards the other man. He wasn't sure who he was, he'd never seen him before tonight.
"No," Joel said.
Morgan holstered his gun, "Is the perimeter clean?" Morgan asked. Just because the perps were down, it didn't mean the job was done.
Joel nodded, "Yeah," he said. "A few of the guys radioed, it's all clear."
"So we wait," Morgan said. It would be a few hours before he could go home. The scene would have to be photographed and the bodies would be taken away. Then he'd have to go down to the station and give a statement. It was a clear case of self-defense, he wasn't worried about Internal Affairs coming down on him. He was a clean cop, he worked hard to be trusted in the force and to make sure no one accused the Police Commissioner for cutting his baby cousin slack. He had to work twice as hard as the next guy, just because of his name.
Morgan loved his job, he loved knowing that the streets of Port Charles were a little safer because of him. He hated the mob. As much as it gave him a life, it took so much more from him. The mob stole his childhood and he was going to make sure that didn't happen to his children - well, when he had children.
Dropping his keys on the coffee table, Morgan turned off the lamp and glanced at a note left on the coffee table. Dinner is in the fridge - wake me up when you get home. L. Morgan smiled and sprinted upstairs, heading straight to the bedroom. He glanced at the bed, smiling again when he saw his fiancee, Lila Rae Alcazar, asleep in their bed then headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. He turned the water to hot and climbed in, intent on washing away the stress from the night.
He wasn't sure if it was fate threw them together or what. In a way, they were both named after the same person - Lila Morgan Quartermaine. His mom always told him that he had Lila's gentle but strong spirit even though they weren't related by blood. He believed the same was true for Lila. Their childhoods mirrored each other in so many ways. Both of their mothers were afraid of the violence consuming their lives and they did whatever they needed to do to keep them safe. Despite growing up on opposite ends of the Atlantic, they still found each other. He still remembered the first time he saw her. Michael dragged him to some ELQ party and Lila was dragged to the same party by her mom. The moment he saw her standing at the top of the staircase at the mansion, he knew he was going to marry her someday.
Morgan reached for a towel and shut off the water. Wrapping it around his waist, he wiped the mirror with his hand. His eyes immediately drifted to the scar on his left shoulder. Two years ago he was shot on the job, it wasn't life threatening but it had shaken his family. That day he made a decision that he wasn't going to get shot again and if there was a casualty while on the job - it wasn't going to be him. Tonight he got shot at and tonight he killed two men. Maybe he was more like his father than he thought. Morgan shook his head and walked out of the bathroom, grabbing a pair of boxers from the dresser. He slipped them on and let his towel fall to the floor before climbing into bed.
Lila automatically reached out for him. Her eyes slowly opened and she smiled at him. "Hi," Lila whispered, pulling him closer for a kiss. She glanced at the clock and looked back at Morgan. "It's late."
Morgan brushed her long dark hair back from her face, "The stakeout ran longer than usual," Morgan said.
Lila traced her fingers over Morgan's face, "That means one of two things - either nothing happened or something big happened and you had to give a statement," Lila said.
"Something big happened," Morgan said.
"Something big," Lila said, her brown eyes searching his for answers. Her eyes drifted to the scar on his shoulder then back to his face. "You weren't hurt were you?"
"I'm fine," Morgan said. "Li - seriously, I'm fine." Lila raised an eyebrow at him and he raised his hands in mock surrender, throwing back the blanket in the process, "There's not a scratch on me - feel free to investigate."
"You're trying to change the subject," Lila said. "Morgan, I know you. I know something happened. Maybe you weren't hurt but something happened and I don't want to read about it in the paper tomorrow, so tell me - "
Maybe they'd only known each other for four years, but she knew him better than any other person. "I shot and killed two men tonight," Morgan quietly said. He wasn't sure what Lila's reaction was going to be. They'd been dating for a little over three years and he hadn't killed one person in that time frame.
"You're fine though, right?" Lila asked. "If you weren't - you'd tell me - "
Morgan was filled with relief when Lila's first reaction was concern for him and not disgust. She'd been shielded from the violence that filled his life, he'd spent more time with her father as a child than she had. But despite never being around the violence, she was still horrified by the crimes of her father, and his. "Of course I would," Morgan said. "I killed two men tonight - "
Lila shook her head, "Two men that probably would've killed you if given the opportunity," Lila said. "You were doing your job, they were - "
"Doing their job," Morgan said.
"You're not like them," Lila whispered, blinking back tears. "You're not like your dad or my dad or - " Lila paused. "You're - "
"I am, a little bit - yes I am," Morgan said. He hated the mob, but he didn't see it in black and white like Lila did. There were a lot of good people who worked for his dad, and later his Uncle Jason. It was a business just like any other, except it was illegal and put people at risk. He carried some of the same qualities that those men did. He was fiercely loyal and would do whatever it took to get the job done.
Lila rested her hand on Morgan's face, "A little bit - but you're different," Lila said. "You're trying to make the world safe for the rest of us, but they're trying to make a profit."
Morgan pulled Lila into his arms and kissed her forehead before hugging her. "You know me so well," Morgan said.
"I'm supposed to know you," Lila said, pulling back and resting her head on Morgan's chest.
"You do," Morgan said, running his hand over Lila's back. "Why'd you want me to wake you up?" Sometimes Lila waited up for him, but usually she didn't. Depending on the type of case he was working on, his hours were often erratic, whereas hers weren't.
"I'm nervous about tomorrow," Lila said.
"Why?" Morgan asked. He and Lila had been engaged for almost a week and tomorrow they were going to share the news with their families.
"Because your mom hates me," Lila said.
"She doesn't hate you - she - "
"I'm not good enough for her son," Lila said.
"It's nothing personal," Morgan said. In his mother's eyes, no one would be good enough for him or Michael. His mom adored Michael's wife, Starr Manning, but he remembered his mother's objections when Michael announced his engagement five years earlier. "Besides, maybe it's me who isn't good enough for you."
"Don't say that," Lila said, lifting her head from Morgan's chest and propping it on her elbow. "Don't ever say that."
"You went to a better school - "
"My family is crazier than - "
"I'm a Spencer," Morgan said. "I've got crazy in spades."
Lila laughed, "Okay, you have me beat with crazy, but I think I've got psychotic covered," Lila said.
"Maybe," Morgan said. "Your childhood was definitely more stable than mine."
"Lonely - my childhood was lonely," Lila said.
Whenever Lila talked about her childhood, she glossed over everything. Sure, she got to grow up overseas and she went to the best schools but she grew up so isolated from everyone but her mother. "Our kids are going to have everything we didn't," Morgan said. "They'll be safe - "
"Maybe sooner than you think," Lila said.
"Are you - you're not pregnant are you?" Morgan asked.
"No," Lila quickly said. "I better not be. I want a fabulous wedding dress and I am not giving your mother another reason to hate me."
"She doesn't hate you," Morgan said. "What did you mean by maybe sooner?"
"Your stakeout tonight," Lila said. "Every time you catch someone it makes the streets a little bit safer."
"Just a little," Morgan said.
Lila smiled at him and rested her hand on his chest. "I'm proud of you."
Morgan smiled and reached for his hand, pulling her closer to him so he could kiss her,"It doesn't bother you that I'm a cop, does it?"
"No," Lila said. "You were a cop when I met you, I don't think it's my place - "
"I meant - just a cop," Morgan said. Lila could have any man she wanted. She was beautiful, rich, charming and successful. She was an accountant at ELQ and he knew that one day she would be the CFO.
"I like that you're a cop," Lila said. "It's who you are. Besides, it's not like you need the money. I'm not sure but your trust fund might be larger than mine so I know you're not after my money. Plus, you have an honest job."
An honest job. It was ironic really, the son of the man who once ran the most powerful crime organization on the East Coast was a police detective. He spent almost every day of his life trying to undo the damage his father did to the city. He learned how to shoot a gun when he was fourteen. If a stray bullet hadn't hit his brother all those years ago, he was positive he still would've picked up a gun. It just would've been for the Corinthos Organization and not the PCPD. "I do, don't I?" Morgan asked.
Lila leaned forward, brushing her lips over his. "I love you," Lila whispered.
"I love you too," Morgan said, quickly kissing her one more time. He was exhausted. He'd spent most of the night crouched down in an alley, but he got to come home to an amazing woman. Tomorrow they'd announce their engagement and start their life together. He had a good life, a good job and wasn't always looking over his shoulder wondering if someone was going to kill him. He didn't live his life behind bullet proof glass and need body guards and there was a good chance that his children wouldn't either. So maybe, just maybe the sins of the father were not visited upon the sons.
THE END