Elizabeth's POV:
I opened the door expecting the pizza guy but instead I looked directly at the head of a damaged boy. His face was filled with fury and his eyes spoke what he wanted to say minus the words. I let him in and he exploded like Lula had with me in the hospital those many months ago. My lips began to tremble and I started to cry but he yelled at me, saying I had no right to cry. He asked me where the boy was and I knew he was talking about Jake. Why else would Michael Corinthos be here to see one of my sons? I led him upstairs to the playroom and he walked right in through the door frame, standing tall like his uncle who I loved. He went right up to my son, picked him up and said "Hi Jakey, I'm Michael", and finally for the first time that Michael Corinthos walked through my door, I smiled.
Michael's POV:
I asked Elizabeth to leave me with Jake upstairs for a moment and she left the room, but not before she gave me the first smile I had seen since I got there. I just watched him play and finally I noticed the collection of motorcycles in the corner. Besides the eyes and hair that the boy had, there was the connection of motorcycles between his father and him. I decided to leave the boy, but not without giving him a hug (which was weird and surprised for me). I left and as I was walking down the stairs, I put my hand in my pocket and felt something. I took out the tiny motorcycle with the name Jacob on it that I had taken from Jason's house and almost doubled back to give it to his son, but first I wanted to explain to the woman awaiting for me downstairs.
Elizabeth's POV:
I heard him descending down the stairs and my heart started to race. He came right up to me and handed me something tiny. I looked at the item in my hand and realized it was a motorcycle that looked like Jason's. I loked closer and so an almost unreadable name. I pieced together the letters and realized it said "Jacob Martin Morgan". Finally looking at it made me realize that Jason was hurting badly and Michael was the messenger who was sent to me to deliver the heartbreaking message. I decided that I needed to do something about it and realized that looking at the 17 year old in front of me that I knew exactly what I could do. It required a motorcycle, the boy standing in front of me and the boy that I could hear making motorcycle noises upstairs.
