Chapter 2

Carly finally decided she had enough of waiting and that she was going to look for Michael on her own.

"Where are you going?" Jax asked as Carly put on her coat.

"I'm going to find Michael," said Carly, bristling with anger. "Who knows what he's out doing right now. I hope he's enjoying himself because he is about to be in a lot of trouble for a very long time." She opened the door and almost ran straight into Lucky who was posed like he was about to knock.

"Hey, sorry for stopping by so late," he said, lowering his hand. "I was just wondering if I could talk to Michael." He noticed that Carly was wearing her coat. "Are you heading out?"

"Michael isn't home right now," Carly informed Lucky. She sounded irritated although it wasn't clear who she was more irritated with: Lucky or Michael. "He is out with my car and I intend to find him and bring him home." She brushed past him.

"Sorry about that," said Jax, approaching the door. "She's just a little upset because of Michael."

"I understand," said Lucky. "Just let Michael know that I stopped by and that I'd really like to talk to him when he has a chance."

Jax hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sure."

*

Michael was relieved when Franco merely cut the ropes holding him against the chair. He was lifted up by the arm and steered towards a door near the back of the house.

"This isn't the kind of work environment that I prefer but special guests call for special circumstances," said Franco and opened the door. A burst of cold hit them both and Michael shivered. Franco switched on a light which revealed a set of stairs.

Franco pushed Michael forward, who reluctantly descended. He landed on the bottom stepped and looked around.

The walls were covered with photos of crime scenes: blood splatters and bodies with their limbs twisted unnaturally. Besides the photos, all over room was the line 'CO77X.'

"You may have noticed my signature around Port Charles," Franco said proudly.

Michael had seen the tag but didn't want to give Franco the satisfaction. He tried to keep his eyes from wondering over to the crime scene photos but he couldn't help it. The photos were unapologetically graphic and bloody.

"So what do you think?" Franco asked.

"Think of what?" Michael replied.

"My art," Franco said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Brilliant, right? People pay millions of dollars for this stuff."

"This isn't art," Michael scoffed. "These are just photos of crime scenes. Congratulations. You can push a button."

"Hey, don't get smart with me," Franco snapped and roughly yanked Michael around to face him. Michael flinched, seeing a mad glint in Franco's eyes but it disappeared sooner than it came. Franco smiled. "Young Michael, you have much to learn. But we'll start with all of that tomorrow. Let me show you to your room."

Michael made mental notes of the layout of the house as Franco took him to the second story, which was basically a long hallway lined with doors, so that he could plan his escape. "I didn't spare any expense in getting your room ready for you," said Franco, leading him to the room at the very end of the hall.

Franco pushed open the door. Michael felt his entire body tingle with shock and fear. Even in the dark, he could see that it was a replica of the cabin in which he had killed Claudia. He didn't even notice when Franco unlocked the handcuffs and his arms fell like dead weight to his side.

*

Jax was waiting for Carly when she got home. "Did you find him?" he asked.

"I went everywhere," she said, shouldering off her coat and letting it fall on her couch. "I went to Jake's, Kelly's, the Haunted Star, Sonny's restaurant. I even drove by the Quartermaine mansion and looked for my car but nothing. Jax, I'm starting to get really worried. What if he's decided to run away?"

"Now calm down," said Jax, putting his hands on her shoulder. "It's past his curfew but it's still entirely possible that he's just out somewhere in Port Charles, doing what teenagers do when they break curfew. There's no need to jump to the worst case scenario."

"No, worst case scenario would be he drove my car into a ditch and is slowly bleeding to death, unable to call for help." Carly sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"You have that assistance system installed into your car, right?" Jax tried to reason with his wife. "If he's been in an accident, you'll know about it."

"Maybe not a car accident," Carly reluctantly agreed, "but, and don't you dare try to prove a point, Michael is not a normal teenager. His father is the mob boss of Port Charles for crying out loud. I just…" She sat down on the couch. "I'm not going to be able to sleep until I know that he's okay."

*

Michael opened his eyes and he was vaguely aware that he was not in his own bedroom. He sat up and immediately, panic filled him. He remembered the night in pieces: leaving Kelly's, pulling over to the side of the road, waking up in handcuffs, the crime scene photos, and being put into a replica of the cabin which frequently haunted his nightmares.

The room had no windows so it took him a few moments to adjust to the dimness. He had fallen asleep on the couch although he didn't know for how long. He tried to read the face of his watch but there just wasn't enough light.

Footsteps approached and Michael quickly stood up, unsure of what was going to happen. The door opened and Franco stood in the frame, surrounded by a blinding light. "It's time for breakfast," he said, stepping into the room.

Michael stepped back. "I'm not hungry," he replied.

"You'll need the fuel." Franco smiled. "We've got a long day ahead of us."