Edward collapsed backwards into the cushioned chair with a physical ache in his chest. A.J.'s dead. Ned's voice hung in the air and the two words reverberated in his eardrum. He prayed it had somehow been a mistake - misinformation, a miscommunication of some kind - but his many years on this cruel earth warned him otherwise.
Ned identified the body. It was a formality since Jason had discovered the body in his rented room above Jake's. The linear laceration around his neck was still visible, perhaps even more so under the luminescent light in the hospital morgue. Edward wondered aloud whether the despondency A.J. suffered within the final hours of his life was any match for the desolation on his parents' faces when they returned home from the hospital.
The sun had barely risen above the harbour before the mansion was inundated with calls from the press with requests, which quickly became demands, for a statement on the loss of a Quartermaine heir. Within hours, Ned produced a statement from ELQ to placate the wolves: On behalf of the Quartermaine family, it is with deep sadness that we announce the death of Alan James Quartermaine Jr.. We welcome your prayers and ask for privacy at this difficult time.
No one said as much, at least not in the immediate aftermath, but Edward sensed an aura of blame lay solely at his feet. He wasn't sure which was worse: Monica, who rarely appeared from the sanctuary of her bedroom and refused to meet his eye, or the melancholy in Alan's whenever he did.
"If - - if ever I pushed the boy, it was only to ensure that he excelled and became the man that I knew he could be. I never believed he'd do himself harm," he declared to Lila once they retired to their suite after another wretched silence at the dinner table.
"I know, dear," his wife patiently offered him her comfort and reassurance. She was perhaps the only human being on earth capable of such unconditional, unwavering love.
Once the initial shock had subsided, Edward openly contemplated the likelihood that an heir of his bloodline would truly lack the willpower to battle on another day. After all, the Quartermaine name had earned a substantial number of rivals over the years, some of whom had conceded not only major financial losses but entire livelihoods. Edward also refused to rule out however many enemies Jason had been awarded as one of Sonny Corinthos' henchmen. Unfortunately, the Port Charles Police Department were reluctant to entertain the possibility that A.J.'s premature death had been anything other than self-inflicted.
Edward dove into his responsibilities at ELQ where Ned brazenly held the fort. With the lack of A.J., there was nobody suitable to hold accountable for errors or the substantial financial losses. Still, as difficult as his relationship with Ned became, it was easier to hide away in the New York offices for weeks at a time than to return home. The house stood cold and quiet, even on the rare occasion that all of its occupants were present and accounted for. Alan and Monica fell back into their predictable pattern of hostility and indifference, Ned locked himself away both physically and emotionally in the gatehouse, while Emily launched herself into therapy. She had reached the conclusion that it was her - and her alone - whose existence united her parents and that fact threatened to shatter her resolve, as well as her newfound sobriety.
"I cannot - - I will not be held responsible for the actions of a grown man," Edward adamantly rebuked culpability for the pressure he had placed around A.J.'s neck like an anchor while he drowned in an ocean of troubles. He refused to accept that he had inadvertently overseen the end of the Quartermaine line. With the exception of Dillon, in whose life Edward played very little importance, there was no son and heir to continue his name.
"You can try to deny your part in this all you want, grandfather." Ned shouldered the blame, too. He had been impatient and cruel to his younger cousin, who had been the apple of their grandfather's eye at the time of his entrance into the world. In the years that followed, the two of them had practically frog-marched A.J. to the brink of despair every time they underscored another one of his failures, or downplayed the odd success.
The residents of Port Charles and beyond flocked en masse to attend the funeral at the Queen of Angels church and subsequent wake at the Quartermaine mansion. As Edward held Lila's delicate hand in his own, he witnessed the first of many tears from Alan who had been numb to the loss of his first born son. Ned delivered a speech in tribute to the short life and Emily addressed the audience with a poem that she and Lila had selected. The adolescent had been otherwise unable to communicate the depth of her emotions outside of the safe space her counsellor provided.
Sunday became Edward's least favourite day of the week. The Quartermaine's had split - shattered, in some respects - in their efforts to recover from the loss and the family home felt hollow. It was on one of those eerily quiet Sunday's that Tony Jones burst into the mansion, unremorseful for his disruption of a peaceful afternoon. He ranted and raved about the breakdown of his relationship with Carly Roberts, an inevitability to everyone with the apparent exception of Tony, and all of which held very little interest for Edward until he revealed the purpose for his presence: A.J. was the natural father of Carly's unborn child. While Tony remained convinced that the supposed paternity reveal had no real merit and was Carly's vicious attempt to inflict psychic wounds in the heat of the moment, Edward clutched at the promise of a new and untainted heir.
"What's this all about, father?" Alan's voice was firm yet weary when the family corralled in the den at Edward's behest. He was the first to observe Carly's uneasy entrance, escorted by an ever-faithful Reginald. "Carly - - what are you doing here?" There was an accusation behind the question that Alan hadn't intended.
"I invited her, Alan, so be nice," his father ordered in no uncertain terms. Edward's voice softened as if butter wouldn't melt. "Carly, dear, do come in." The roar of the crowd cried out for an explanation when Edward curled his arm around Carly's shoulders. There was a naive and mercurial daze in her eyes as she studied the family before her, perhaps in an effort to size them up. "I am the bearer of the most wonderful news." Gleeful, Edward bore a wide smile. "This family is about to be blessed with a new arrival and A.J. will live on - - in his child."