Hey, y'all! Welcome to the bonus material. Here, you'll find an alternate ending to Quality, credits (where you may just find your name), a dedication, and a preview for the sequel to this story, 18 Days.

Alternate Ending from Dante's Point of View

"Are you going to be okay by yourself for a minute, kiddo?"

Morgan nodded up at his brother. "Dad's going to help me pack!" With an awkward sweep of one of his crutches, Morgan gestured to the slew of baseball cards and Yankees gear that lay scattered around the hospital room. In an undertone, he added: "I have to remind him about taking us to the World Series, anyway."

"You mean you heard that when you were out of it?" Dante asked incredulously. When his younger brother nodded, the cop ruffled Morgan's hair. "All right! I wondered if the offer of Yankees tickets wouldn't make you wake up. Have fun. Take care of him!" he called to their father.

"I will!" Sonny called after Dante as Dante strode out the door. The younger man shook off his lingering unease with his father and forced himself to concentrate on where he was going. As he passed the nurse's station, Robin smiled and called his name; he waved a hand but kept moving. If I stop to talk now, he thought grimly, I'll never get this over with.

The chapel was as empty as ever when Dante cautiously pushed the door open. All of the candles were burnt out. He dipped a hand in the holy water font and crossed himself. Then he slowly lowered himself into one of the pews.

He sighed and shifted his weight. The pew creaked. Now or never. "Well…hey, God," Dante began awkwardly. "I know I haven't bothered talking to You lately—hell, Ma reminds me of that every chance she gets—but I've been really busy with Morgan and all the custody—no, that's not right. I should know enough not to lie to You.

"I guess…God, I don't have a great relationship with my father here. I guess you know that, though." Dante chuckled darkly. "Things have been getting better between Dad and me lately: see, I'm even calling Sonny 'Dad' now, ever since Morgan got hurt. Thing is, and this is going to sound stupid, I don't know if I want to have a good relationship with my dad. I don't know if I want to lo—really like him. I mean, come on, God, he's a mobster! I'm a cop! I should hate him!

"…but I don't." With a groan, Dante rubbed his aching head. "I just can't hate Sonny. He's…a…he was a good brother to my uncle Stone—I've been calling Stone Cates that, Dad thinks it's nice—and—Sonny's a good father. God." Dante sighed so hard that his ribs hurt. "No matter what horrible things he's done, he loves his kids and wants what's right for them!

"Now I'm…This is the hard part. See, God, I got to raise both my brothers now that Carly's breaking down. I have to take on that responsibility, and I don't think I'm ready. It's not that I don't love them!" Dante amended hastily with a glance at the crucifix. "I love my family. I just don't think I'm ready."

Slowly, Dante stood. "What I'm really saying, I guess, is I need Your help. I need all the help I can get now that I'm the one taking care of Michael and Morgan.

"And…Uncle Stone? Thanks. I owe you, big time."

"Dante?"

Dante jumped at the sound of the door creaking open. Morgan poked his head in cautiously; Dante stifled a snort at the sight of his little brother using his crutches as doorstops. "You ready to go?"

Morgan nodded cheerfully. "Yup. I—Dante!"

The fear in his brother's voice nearly made Dante's heart stop. Morgan's petrified gaze was riveted to the front of the chapel. Dante whirled to see what frightened Morgan:

Two votive candles had flamed to life. No one else was in the room.

"Dante, they just—they just—what happened?" Morgan asked fearfully. Dante relaxed and started to chuckle as he watched the two flames dance merrily, despite the fact that there was no breeze. "What happened?"

"Don't worry, Morgan." Dante wrapped a gentle arm around his brother's shoulder and then saluted the spot where, he imagined, a long-dead teenager with hair to his shoulders was grinning at both of them. "Do you believe in guardian angels?"

Morgan bit his lip. "I guess. Why?"

"Well," the older brother said slowly, "that was yours, saying hi."

Thanks to all those who have read and reviewed this story! I hope you will follow me to the sequel. Special thanks to the reviewers (rosie44, SheWhoFliesWithDragons, softballgal13, and bellagh669—I'll explain Kristina's back story in the next two parts of this series!), as well as those who added this to their favorites (Mama Bear and Her Cubs, rocklesson86, pjcp, and Shadoee) and those who put it on story alert (jlynd29, irishgirl9, and JasonCourtneyFan17).

Dedicated to Jordan, who appreciates my obsession with GH

The following preview has been approved for ALL AUDIENCES by the author, because I say so.

"I didn't realize," Dante said through gritted teeth, "you owned—this much—stuff—Morgan—Stone—Corinthos!"

The aforementioned younger brother had the heart to look a little guilty as he leaned on his crutches and watched Dante and Michael drag box after box of clothes and toys into the tiny apartment. "I didn't buy any of it! It's not really my fault!"

With a groan, Michael dumped a crate of Yankees gear on the sofa. "Y'know, Dante, Morgan does have a point! Either Mom, Dad, or Jax—" Suddenly, the all color drained from Michael's face. "Oh, hell. Morgan…"

The smaller boy's eyes welled with tears. Dante dropped his cardboard box with a thud and pulled Morgan into his arms. "Hey, little bro. Hey, it's okay. It's okay. I got you."

"Morgan, I'm sorry!"

"Michael, it's fine." Dante shot Michael a warning look. This is not a good time for you to freak out on me, man. "How about you help Lulu set up the sofa bed, right? Morgan and I need to talk."

For a moment, Michael wavered; then, with one last pained look at Morgan, he followed his cousin into the other room. Dante watched him go and then pulled Morgan onto the sofa with a sigh. The boy curled into his brother's side with a whimper. "Hey. Hey. Listen to me. It's not your fault that Jax died."

"But it is!" Morgan wailed. "I'm the one who wanted to go sailing! I made him—"

"No. No, you didn't make Jax do anything. Listen to me: Jax took you out that day because he loved you, right? You two had a lot of fun. I know—know how much you miss him, bud, but you can't blame yourself for what happened. Do you know how to drive?"

Morgan blinked up at Dante tearfully. "No…"

"Then how could you have stopped the car from crashing?" At that, Morgan bit his lip. Dante waited for the words to sink in before he continued: "Morg, I knew Jax, okay? The one thing I know for sure about him is that he loved you and your siblings. He wouldn't want you to—"

Both brothers jumped (Dante with a curse) as Dante's phone went off. The cop cursed again when he saw who was calling. "Sorry, buddy, I have to take this. –Lucky, what is it?"

"Dante, we just got a missing persons report filed, and we need you on the search team."

"Missing persons report?" Dante could feel Morgan's eyes burning his back as he began to pace. "What—what happened?"

"Well, that's what we're trying to figure out." Lucky sighed; Dante could imagine that the other cop was pacing, too. "See, Jason Morgan came in this morning—looked frantic. Looked terrible. Apparently, he'd been out in the woods for the past couple of days searching, but he didn't find anything…That's why he came to us."

"Well—who? Who was he looking for? Sam? Carly?" Has she totally lost her mind?

As Dante spoke, Michael, Lulu, and Josslyn slipped into the room. Michael shot a questioning glance at Morgan, who shrugged helplessly. Dante shook his head at all of them as Lucky sighed and corrected:

"No…Damian Spinelli…and Kristina Davis."

I'll see you at the sequel, 18 Days!

Cheers,

Icey.