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Danny's cancer was a fact of life; one that, thankfully, he didn't remember. Sam, on the other hand, spent the last four years struggling with those memories and the fear they inspired. The first weeks and months after his remission had been declared she lived in a state of hyper-vigilance. Only after the first year of being cancer free did she begin to believe her son would live a long, full life, with the worst behind him. As the years passed it became merely a part of their history; something they all knew happened, but never discussed, for fear of conjuring up a parent's worst nightmare.
Which was why it had taken her so long to act on her instincts, considering her recent trip down dark alley in the back of her mind.
Over the last few days he'd become quiet, withdrawn, and lethargic; everything a five-year-old boy shouldn't be. He'd spent most of those days alone in his bedroom, making appearances for meals he pushed around the plate, but barely touched. Whatever was going on with him was more than a trick of her mind, or a result of being off schedule after Christmas, and required her immediate attention. So, after laying Scout down for her nap that morning, she crossed the hall to her son's bedroom, where Danny lay in bed, cuddling a stuffed puppy, his back turned to the door.
'You're being ridiculous,' she chided herself, tiptoeing to his bed and perching herself next to him. 'It's December for crying out loud, the middle of cold and flu season.'
The knot in her stomach loosened and she sent up a silent prayer of gratitude when his forehead was neither warm or clammy. It wasn't a definitive diagnosis, but it was a small comfort.
He rolled over on his back, staring up at her, searching her face for...what she wasn't sure.
"Hey, little man," she cooed, brushing his golden waves back with her fingers. "How're you feeling today?"
Danny shrugged, forcing a smile as he'd watched her do so many times in the last month.
"Okay, I guess."
She nodded in reply, unaware of the insincere curving of her lips that had become second nature.
"You slept through breakfast again," she reminded gently. "Are you hungry?"
He shook his head from one side to the other.
"Not really."
The brunette looked down lovingly at her little boy, her heart in her throat as he studied her. There was so much of Jason in him; his wavy blonde hair, expressive blue eyes, and occasional crooked grin often inspired the image of his father. Not to mention his sense of adventure. But the way he was watching her, his azure orbs darkened with curiosity, perhaps even suspicion, and the slight frown he wore, reminded her of the beginning, when Jason would weigh each word and gesture, sizing her up.
He'd never looked at her like that before.
Sam swallowed the lump in her throat, a different, but equally paralyzing fear taking hold; the fear of somehow failing her child.
"I know there's been a lot of changes this year," she began cautiously. "First you got a baby sister, and then another daddy..."
'Your real daddy.'
"Your other daddy got a new name...
The words "other daddy" tasted strange on her tongue, though they lacked the vile flavor of Uncle Drew or your stepdad Drew.
She was rambling.
"What I'm trying to say is that there's no wrong way to feel. It's okay if you're scared or confused, change can be those things."
Danny sat silently, hanging on he every word as she continued.
"What makes it okay is having people you love and trust that you know you can come to and lean on. So, from now on, I'm going to be as honest with you as I possibly can, and if you need to talk or you have questions, I'm right here," she assured, lacing her arm around him as he finally perked.
He sat up in bed, his eyes fixed downward.
"Is daddy coming home," he asked timidly, avoiding her gaze.
A sigh of relief passed her lips, grateful for a question with a simple answer.
"Of course, baby," she said, her brain slipping into default, "he left for the office while you were sleeping, but he'll be home tonight.
The little boy wilted, tensing in her arms.
A sickening wave of guilt and rage swept through her as his true meaning dawned.
"That's not who you meant, is it?"
His eyes swelled with tears, overwhelmed by all he was feeling.
"I don't know why I said that," he choked out shakily, "it just slipped out."
She wrapped both arms around him, blanketing him in his mother's love. He returned her embrace, curling into her instinctively. For a moment, she wished this were enough; that she could hold him forever, shielding him from the pain and confusion of life's complexities.
"You said what was in your heart, and you don't ever need to apologize for that. If that's how you see Jason, and that's what you want to call him, you have every right to do so, and no one is going to deny you that."
He peered up at her with streaked cheeks.
"But he said to call him Jason..."
Sam squeezed her son tighter, shaking her head.
"He said to call him whatever you feel comfortable with, because what's most important to him is that you're happy and that you have what you need. He's not gonna be mad at you for calling him daddy. In fact, I know it'll make him really happy, if that's what you want."
The sides of his mouth lifted into a hopeful grin that faltered too soon.
"What is it," she probed, sensing he was still holding something back.
Danny's expression darkened, his voice barely above a whisper when he spoke.
"My other daddy won't like it," he mumbled, reaching for his stuffed toy again. "He doesn't want Jason to be my daddy."
His mother stared at him in disbelief, struggling to comprehend how exactly they'd wound up having this exact conversation.
"How," she sputtered, quickly altering her response so as not to confirm or deny his suspicions, "what makes you think that?"
The child shrugged, unable to articulate what he felt, and unwilling to incriminate himself. He didn't know why he hadn't believed her when she promised everything was okay. Something inside himself just wouldn't let him. It was something about his mom's smile, and the anger in his other daddy's voice when they thought he wasn't listening. It was the way his daddy Jason looked at him, like he was there but he wasn't.
"I just know...is that why daddy Jason left? Because my other daddy doesn't like him?"
She thought back to his original question, with startling clarity. No wonder he'd been so troubled and reserved since Jason's absence. He believed Drew's animosity had driven his father away. A flash of anger ripped through her; at Drew for giving her son that impression, at Jason for leaving her alone to wonder and worry, at Faison for setting this mess in motion, but she quickly pushed it aside, knowing there would be time for those emotions later. Her priority had to be her son.
Sam reached down, tilting her little boy's face upward, caressing his chin with her thumb.
"I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?"
He nodded, his head still in her hand.
"I know you were too young to remember this, but your daddy promised a long time ago that he would always be here for you. And the only reason he wasn't able to keep that promise is because he was taken away from us by some very bad people, and he wants to make sure that never happens again. That's why he left, so that when he comes home, he can know we're all safe and that nothing like that will ever happen again."
She watched the doubts in his eyes slowly fade like a broken storm, the reward of crystal blue calm shining through by the end.
"I still miss him," he said, once again seeking his mother's comfort.
Sam rested her head against his, closed her eyes, and for the briefest moment, allowed herself to acknowledge the ache in the pit of her soul.
"I know baby..." I do too. "But you know, there are ways to stay close even when you can't be together."
She felt his head snap up, in reply.
"Like how," he asked curiously.
'Yeah, mom. Like how,' she repeated mockingly, wondering when she'd learn to think before she spoke.
"Well..." What had she done to stay close to Jason during his absence? What hadn't she done, was more like it. She'd relived each memory, clung to every item of significance from their relationship. She'd lit candles in his honor and prayed, begging for any sign of his presence, anything to let her know she wasn't as alone as she felt.
"You could write a letter," she suggested, thankful for the inspiration wherever it had come from. "That way you can say whatever it is you want, and when he gets back, he can read it, and know you were thinking of him."
Danny beamed with approval; his mind already swirling with ideas for the card he would make. He leapt from his bed, running over to his desk with renewed enthusiasm, pulling out his markers, crayons, and pencils. Sam gave him some paper and watched in awe as he began Jason's gift. After a few minutes, he asked her to leave, claiming her staring was distracting. She smirked with amusement, planting a kiss on his head before exiting his bedroom.
On impulse, Sam pulled her phone from her pocket, texting rapidly, knowing she might lose her nerve at any second. She pressed send and locked the screen, refusing to dwell on what she'd just done, or the small comfort it instilled.
She peeked in on Emily one last time, almost disappointed by the sight of her sleeping form. This was another reason she hated playing hooky. Though her work at Aurora could be tedious and confusing, at least it was productive. With both children occupied, and the house clean, there was nothing to do but loaf or sleep, and wait to be needed.
Sam trudged down the stairs, pulling out the desk drawer where the take out menu's were kept. There was a Manila folder laying on top of them, the folder of listings for potential new homes. They ranged from apartments to houses, all three or more bedrooms, all appealing in their own ways. There was just one problem. None of those places felt right to her. Still, it wasn't fair to ask Jason to give up the penthouse, or to ask Drew to live with his ghost. Something had to give, and in this case, that something, or rather someone, was her.
She lifted both items from the drawer, laying the housing options aside to peruse her culinary options. After much consideration, she decided on Kelly's, called in her order and switched folders. At the top of the list was a modern style Farmhouse on the outskirts of Port Charles; four bedrooms, two and a half baths, with stone steps leading up to the large porch. It was elegant, grand; exactly what a savvy media mogul would be expected to own, and judging by its placement in the stack, also her husband's preference.
She was trying to picture them in the living area depicted when a rapid series of knocks at the door broke her concentration. They were quiet, persistent, and before she opened the door she knew exactly who was waiting on the other side.
"Fair Samantha," he exclaimed, accepting her invitation to enter. "I apologize for my unexpected and probably unwelcome salutations," he fired off anxiously.
The brunette frowned, closing the door behind him.
"Spinelli, you know you're always welcome here," she insisted, though as she spoke the words she realized she wasn't quite sure where Drew stood with her oldest and dearest friend.
"I wouldn't have acted so hastily were my actions not prompted by great concern for Stone Cold's well-being."
Sam's hand instinctively flew over her heart.
"Is he okay? What happened?"
She thought of Danny and the gift he was slaving over upstairs. Would Jason ever have the chance to read it? Would he die without ever hearing their son call him daddy? And how would she get their boy through losing him? How could she survive it again?
The tech genius instantly backpedaled.
"Physically, he's fine. They arrived safely in Zurich, only to find themselves seconds too late. Therein lies my concern. Stone Cold was unusually volatile upon this revelation."
Sam closed her eyes, exhaling the tension that had consumed her. Jason was alive, in Zurich...not calling or returning her texts, but he was breathing. That was enough.
"You know how important this is to him. He probably spent the whole flight gearing himself up for a confrontation that never happened. That's gotta be frustrating. But come on, you know Jason. He's like, the most calm collected person on the planet. Just because he lost it for a moment, doesn't mean he's a danger to himself."
The lines of Spin's face set in a mask of determination.
"Under normal circumstances, yes. But Stone Cold was shot and left for dead, a traumatic experience in and of itself. He was kidnapped, drugged, his mind was invaded. Only to return home and find another in his place? I fear his objectivity may be slipping."
Her head bobbled indecisively from one side to the other as she mulled over his argument.
"Okay, I'll admit when Jason works on an investigation that affects someone he cares about on a personal level, he can get a bit...impatient for results. But he always follows the facts, and does the right thing in the end."
Spinelli's expression comforted into one at war with himself.
"With all due respect, there's one crucial variable you've failed to take into consideration."
Her arms folded defensively.
"And what's that?"
The hard angles of his face melted, his voice soft as he declared what, to him, seemed the obvious.
"You. Throughout each of those trying cases, whenever his frustration got the better of him, there was you, giving him hope and encouragement, pulling him back from the brink of tunnel vision. You're not only his wife, and soulmate. You're his partner. He needs you now, more than ever."
He was pleading now.
"I know it's not a fair request, but please, for all our sakes, reach out to him. Offer to talk the case through, allow him to lean on you."
Her hand raked through her unruly curls, pulling it all to one side. She wasn't his wife or his partner-not anymore. Nor was she sure she had any claim to the title of soulmate, but she wasn't about to debate him on that.
"Maybe that's how we used to be, but not anymore. Danny asked me when he was coming back today and I didn't know what to tell him because I didn't even know where Jason was. He has you, Sonny, and Carly to look out for him. He doesn't need me."
That shouldn't have bothered her, but it did. Even more so because she couldn't put her finger on why.
Spinelli's expression grew more desperate.
"That may be what he's telling himself, even what he wants you to believe, but I am convinced were you to go to him this second, those walls would naturally come down and you'd see for yourself just how untrue that is."
Sam stared him down defiantly, unwilling to consider the possibility. Both she and Jason had made choices which removed her from that world and the responsibilities that came with it. And while some part of her might wish otherwise, it was best for everyone the situation remain that way.
"I have two small children Spinelli! I can't just run off to Switzerland right now," she huffed in frustration. He was a father. He, of all people, should understand.
She winced, remembering their take out order.
"But I do have to run a small errand," she grabbed her coat from the closet. "Would you mind watching the kids for a minute? Danny's upstairs coloring and Scout's in the middle of her nap. They won't even know I'm gone."
Spin relented, dropping his hands to his side with a half-hearted smile.
"Of course, I'm happy to assist."
She flashed him a grateful smile, before closing the door behind her. Only then did he sink into the couch, burying his head inside his hands. Jason and Sam were two of his dearest friends. They were more than friends, they were family. Seeing either one in pain was more than he could bear. Watching both of them insist upon their own misery, while he stood by, powerless to intercede? That was far worse.
"I'm sorry sir," the receptionist said, pushing her glasses back up her nose. "I'm not seeing your name on the list."
Her tone was brisk, final. She'd already been made a fool to one of her bosses, and was determined not to let it happen again.
"Just let him know Jason Morgan is here to see him, please?"
Her brow kinked with curiosity. Obviously, she knew his name from somewhere, and was questioning what business her employer might share with a "coffee importer."
"I'm his brother," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
She nodded, slowly, processing the information she'd been given.
"Uh-huh," she gestured toward the chairs in the lobby, deciding it was best not to piss off a well-known hitman recently returned from the dead. "If you'll give me just a moment, I'll see if he's available."
The man grunted his thanks, but showed no interest in moving to the waiting area as she'd hoped he would. Were he anyone else she'd have demanded he relocate, however one did not simply tell a mobster what he was and was not going to do. She valued her life more than any job, and if that meant holding this call beneath his nose, so be it.
Her fingers trembled as she pressed the necessary buttons to access the intercom feature.
"Mr. Cain, there's a Jason Morgan," she was barely able to choke out his name, "here to see you. He doesn't have an appointment, but he's certain you've been expecting him."
What if he refused? The saying "kill the messenger," was a cliché for a reason, after all.
Drew released the button and swore under his breath, once again wishing the last two months had never happened. He couldn't remember his childhood, but whatever he'd experienced couldn't have been as complicated or degrading as the curse of having Jason Morgan as a twin.
Unfortunately, DNA didn't lie.
"Send him in."
No amount of ignorance could alter their situation. Only legal action could do that. Ironically, in order to earn their emancipation, first they would have to cooperate with one another. And since the enforcer was waiting just outside his office and Sam was home with the kids, there appeared to be no better time than the present.
He heard footsteps approaching from a distance as he reached for another file on top of the pile and began sifting through its contents.
"Be with you in a sec," he mumbled, not even bothering to look up from the pages in his hand, while Jason stood patiently waiting for his opening.
After double checking the terms of the contract, he scribbled a signature and closed the folder, pointing toward the chair across the desk.
"I prefer to stand," Jason said, with his hands clasped in front.
He tossed the folder to the top of the pile on the other side of the desk, with a shrug.
"Suit yourself," he replied, lifting himself from his own chair.
Jason noticed this too.
"So," he planted his palms on the crowded desk, "I'm assuming you're here to discuss what happened with Faison."
'Perhaps fawn over my wife some more,' he added mentally.
Jason barely flinched, his head tilting maybe a fraction of an inch.
"There's not much to tell. As you know, we managed to track him down to a luxury resort in Switzerland." His jaw twitched slightly. "By the time we arrived, he'd already fled, but I'm confident we can find him again. This isn't over."
Drew fought against his urge to snicker. Faison had managed to evade the WSB, FBI, CIA, and Interpol. His overestimation of his own ability was hardly impressive. Especially since it was Spinelli who had done the actual "finding." Without his technical assistance, both mobsters would undoubtedly still be scratching their heads and coming up empty.
"Well, whenever you do, I'd appreciate a head's up. I've got a few questions of my own for him."
Jason gave a slight nod, masking his agitation at the implications of that request. Not only had he kept the man updated every step of the investigation, he'd been invited to join their pursuit. Any grievance he felt for being left out of the loop was either imaginary or of his own creation. Neither of which was he about to apologize for.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said, his blank expression grating Drew's already raw nerves.
It really wasn't so much that he cared what everyone's favorite hit man thought of him. He doubted the opinion of others had mattered much to him in life. The only time he could remember caring what a stranger thought was Sam.
He smirked with amusement. 'Almost as if he'd known how much he'd grow to love her.'
No, what irked him was Jason's sheer apathy toward his existence. He and Sam had spent the last few years building a life together, a marriage, a routine. All of which Jason showed no consideration for, dropping by unannounced any time of day or night the urge struck him. He'd made his disinterest in having a brother clear, only acknowledging him for the sake of business or as an obstacle between himself and the life he left behind. Granted, he'd never come out and said these things. He didn't have to. His inherent superiority had done it for him.
"If that's everything," Jason, having spoken his peace, was ready to end their conference.
"It's not," Drew said, picking up another file. His eyes were on the pages within so he missed the disgruntled twitch of his brother's face.
"I know you've been busy with Faison, so I took the liberty of drawing up some papers to rectify our uh, unique situation of two men sharing the same identity."
Jason's shoulders barely lifted.
"I don't sign anything without my attorney," he deadpanned.
Drew nodded, expecting as much.
"Yeah, I figured," he said, offering the folder. "Diane should have a copy heading her way. It's just a standard transfer of assets, based on our previous agreement. The money, the penthouse, everything returns to you. Except Aurora which you said you didn't want."
Jason skimmed the document, and closed the folder. He would still have Diane review it, but from first glance it seemed straight forward, just as Drew had said.
He looked up and nodded his approval to his twin.
"I didn't steal your life Jason, it was forced on me. Now that I know I'm not you, I have no rights to any of it, and no desire to fight for what isn't mine. I'm hoping you'll show me the same courtesy."
His brows rose toward his hairline.
"Meaning what exactly?"
As far as Jason was concerned, his brother had what the other wanted most. He had Sam and the boys. What more could he possibly want?
"There's a second document in there; one renouncing parental rights." Judging by the clench in Jason's jaw, he was either angry or offended. Possibly both.
"Currently, your name is on my daughter's birth certificate," Drew explained.
The tension left Jason's face as he listened. He knew how it felt to have someone else claim your child. Even with consent, it was one of the most painful experiences of his life.
"Of course, I'll sign it," he assured.
The first time he'd picked up his niece, he'd felt an instant connection. In those brief seconds he had not only accepted her, he'd fallen in love. But she wasn't his to have.
"I appreciate that," Drew nodded his thanks.
The two brothers stood on opposite sides of the desk, taking stock of one another.
"Can I ask you something," he suddenly burst, surprising even himself. "What's it like for you, knowing I have your all your memories?
For the first time he could remember, Jason seemed taken aback by their interaction.
"Uh, I don't know. I haven't given it much thought, to be honest."
How could he not think about it? Another man was walking around with his most private thoughts and secrets in his head, and he didn't care?
Drew shook his head, and all but snarled, "I don't understand you."
He looked up at Jason who was staring back at him stoically, fueling his resentment.
"You took Michael from the Quartermaines cause you wanted to protect him, but then you handed him over to a man with more enemies than a communist dictator? You put a target on Sam's back, literally! And when the worst inevitably happened, you didn't have the courage to stand by her. You kept hurting her, pushing her until she broke!"
His fist slammed against the desk.
"While you were playing hero to a lesser woman to make yourself feel better," he spat.
Jason still wasn't reacting, but Drew knew he was pushing his buttons. That was one of the few benefits of sharing memories.
"I can't tell you the shame I felt when Carly announced that I was you. I had all these people telling me how much they loved and missed me, and I didn't feel worthy of any of it after hearing the things I'd done. So I did the only thing I could, I promised to be better and let it go. Sam and I fell in love, we built a life together...and then one day it all came back," he pointed toward his head, his chest burning with the guilt.
"I hated myself when I thought I was you. I spent every day trying to make up for your sins, thinking they were my own. And now that I'm free of that burden, I can put all that hatred where it truly belongs. On you."
Jason nodded, a quiet fury smoldering in his ice blue orbs.
"You have my memories, right?" He challenged coldly. "Then you know I know I make mistakes. You know how much I regret the choices you named, and many more that you didn't. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was wrong. You wanna hate me for that, fine. But don't take it out on Sam!"
Drew opened his mouth to argue but Jason didn't give him the chance.
"I heard you that night. I heard the way you talked to her."
His brother growled at the accusation.
"Sam is my wife, what happens in our marriage is none of your business."
Jason wanted nothing more than to yank him up by the collar of his suit and teach him a lesson, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Sam might never forgive him if he did.
He turned to leave, pausing at the door.
"You know, the worst mistake I ever made was thinking I knew what was best for the people I love. It didn't matter whether I was right or wrong about what they needed. I took away their right to choose. And all that damage you mentioned, was a direct result of that decision."
Before Drew had a chance to respond, Jason was gone.
He collapsed into his chair with a sigh. As much as part of him hated his so-called brother for all he'd done, he also pitied him. No one understood the hardship of being Jason Morgan more than he did, and it was a heavy load to bear.
His gaze flickered to the wedding photograph on the desk. Usually, the image made him smile, but not at present. Instead it cemented his resolve. He reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside was a simple golden band, reflective of their new start. It was humble, nothing like the other rings she had been offered over the years, but it was void of all connection to Jason, and a symbol of their commitment to a life together. Soon they would be starting over in their new home, building their business and raising their family together, without the memory of her ex hanging over their heads.
Jason stormed out of Aurora Media, desperate for distance from the accusations shared in that office. His brother's words were like a rusty blade. The wound itself caused little harm. It was the danger of infection that could kill. He couldn't deny the truth of Drew's words. Nor could he defend them. He had made the wrong choice and his loved ones had suffered the consequences. All he could do was own his mistakes and learn from them.
He pulled out his cell, searching for Sam's message.
"Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, be safe and come home soon."
His lips curled into a faint smile.
It was only a sentence, but knowing she had thought of him, that she had felt the space between them as acutely as he had, meant everything.
Which meant she was in just as much pain as he was...
He tapped on the blank space bar with his thumb, searching his mind for what to say to her. He'd stayed away out of respect for her decision, but that didn't excuse his obtuse behavior over the last few days.
Jason closed the app and shoved the phone back in his pocket. This was not the type of apology you sent through a text.
He turned toward the penthouse and stalled, trapped between the jagged edges of her gaze, and the emotions crashing over him.