The small office Mike Villalobos worked from was in the ritzier section of Port Charles. Jason had known when Mike walked away from Sorel's organization he'd taken a large amount of the deceased mobster's money with him and that made him uneasy because it was a known fact he'd turned on Sorel yet no one had tried to correct the mistake. Jason had asked Sonny and the older man couldn't tell him of any attempts that were made on Villalobos' life in the last two years. It all seemed very strange. What made Jason even more uncomfortable were the metal detectors each person had to walk through before they were allowed entrance into the building. All three men had to leave their shoulder holsters in the car.

For that, Jason didn't know whether to be grateful or apprehensive. The latter because he'd never trusted Mike. Considering the way they'd come to know each other and it was likely Abby wasn't even dead, it seemed to Jason that something had been amiss for awhile. But he felt slightly grateful because he didn't want himself or Johnny and Francis to get trigger happy with the private investigator. No matter what his professional instincts about the matter, he knew Mike could tell him where his daughter was. Or at least point him in the right direction. That was enough for Jason to allow him to live for at least another day.

The door to Mike's office was open when they arrived. Inside was a tall, lanky woman talking on the phone. Her nameplate identified her as Ms. Audrid. When Johnny knocked softly on the opened door, her attention was drawn from her phone conversation to the three men standing at the office door. She smiled brightly at them and motioned for them to enter. "Mom?" she said into the receiver. "Mom, we've got some clients here, I'll call you back." She stopped to listen to her mother continue to talk. "Yes, Mom. I promise." The secretary looked up again and rolled her eyes in annoyance at her mother. "Yes, I promise. Ok, Mom. I'm hanging up now—yes, yes. Okay, I'm really hanging up Mom. I love you too…ok, bye." Straightening her blouse and skirt she started around the desk towards Jason. "Sorry about that, she has a tendency to go on and on."

Jason nodded politely but didn't say anything. Johnny, sensing Jason's sudden muteness stepped in, "We have an appointment with Mr. Villalobos." He smiled widely at her and moved in front of Jason. "You'll have to forgive my partner; he loses his manners around beautiful women."

The secretary let out a small gasp at his flattery. "What's the name?" she asked.

"O'Brien," Johnny supplied. "Johnny O'Brien. And yours?"

"Audrid," she mimicked. "Ms. Audrid. But that's not what I meant." She went back to her desk and studied the appointment book. "There's no O'Brien here, so can you tell me what name the appointment is in."

"Probably Corinthos and Morgan," Francis said from behind Johnny. The shorter, stockier bodyguard came out from his hiding place. "Please excuse my associate, he seems to have lost his manners too. I'm Francis Carone and the mute would be Morgan. Mr. Corinthos couldn't join us today."

Before the secretary could respond Mike came from out of his office. "Jeannine," he said, his head down studying some photographs, "if a Mr. Morgan shows up, please send him right in."

"I'm here," Jason said. "It's been a long time, Mike."

Mike's head jerked up and smiled widely at Jason. "It's been a long time Jason. How have you been?" The private investigator extended his hand to shake Jason's.

Giving him a brief shake, Jason looked up. He ignored the question about how he was. "Let's get this over with, Mike. My wife is waiting."

The bodyguards exchanged looks and Francis smiled knowingly at Johnny. They'd been waiting for Jason to finally acknowledge the place Elizabeth held in his life.

"Sure," the dark haired man said. Mike moved from the doorway and waited for the three men to enter. When they were all seated comfortably he turned to his secretary and said, "I'm not to be disturbed. No phone calls, no visitors. Understood?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Villalobos."

"Good. And when this meeting is over? I think it'll be okay for you to head home."

"Thank you sir."

Giving her one last nod Mike slipped into his office and closed the door behind him. He took the time to stop and adjust the blinds so that no one can see in the window. "No use in anyone knowing what's going on in here."

Mike had spoken with Sonny the night before for a long time. He knew about the photos they'd received the day before. And he knew what might happen to him when Jason found out he knew about Sorel's plan all along and that he knew Abby Morgan had been living with Scarcella in Chicago for years. No, this was not a conversation he was looking forward to.

Taking a seat behind his desk, Mike nervously cleared his throat. "So what can I do for you, Mr. Morgan?"

Jason ignored the use of his formal name and slid an envelope out of his inside jacket pocket. "I want to know who this baby is."

Mike took the pictures and thumbed through them, taking the time to read the back caption. "They say–"

"Yes, I know what they say Mike," Jason interrupted. "I can read. I want to know why my wife and I visited a gravestone with our daughters' name on it just a few days ago. From the looks of those pictures, Abby is very much alive and well out there, somewhere." Jason made a vague gesture with his hand before he linked his hands between his knees and leaned forward. "So tell me, Mike, who is this child? Is it possible she's my daughter?"

Mike could read the deadly intent in Jason's eyes. He could see the mask that had descended upon the bodyguards' faces and knew he had to tell the truth. Trying to buy himself time he said, "How is Elizabeth? I haven't seen her in ages. Last I heard–"

"My wife is fine," Jason assured him. "But can you imagine how upset she was yesterday when these pictures were messengered over? I don't like it when she's upset, Mike."

"I'm sure, Mr. Morgan." The middle-aged investigator flipped through the photos again. "Look Jason, you're putting me in a bad place here."

" I'm putting you in a bad place?" Jason turned to Francis and smiled. "Did you hear that, we're putting him in a bad place? How dare we."

Francis looked over Jason's head and made eye contact with Johnny. Neither men had ever seen Jason act like this before. "Are you okay boss?" he asked.

"I'm fine. I'm just amused. I mean really, we're putting him in a bad place. That's the funniest thing I've heard in a long time." Jason made a show of laughing before he turned back to Mike. With all the laughter gone, his face turned back to steel. "Tell me about those pictures, Mike. I don't care that you're in a bad place. I'm in a bad place too. Tell me Mike, do you know what it's like to miss someone?"

"Yes sir," he choked out at the veiled threat. "Why do you ask sir?"

"A child Mike? Your wife? Do you know what it's like to miss someone you love so much?"

"No sir," he answered truthfully.

"I can tell you, but it's not very pretty. Waking up every morning and not knowing what you're going to do that day. Not mattering to anyone? Watching the one person in the world that you'd die for suffer and there's nothing you can do about it?" Jason planted his hands on the desk and stood. He took the photos out of Mike's hands and held them in front of his face. "Look at her and tell me if that's my daughter, Mike. I can't tell you everything about her. But I know that the way the girl in this picture smiles looks exactly like my wife's. Elizabeth says her hair matches my hair color. She's exactly what my wife feels our daughter would look like."

"Jason–" Mike interrupted.

"I'm not finished, Mike. I have a daughter at home who's never known her sister. But I do know that two years ago you turned on Sorel. You came to Sonny and said that he was using women and children to do his dirty work and you couldn't work for someone like that. And then my daughter died, Mike. Or at least I thought my daughter died. When I returned to Port Charles a few weeks ago I find out about this man named Ronan Stryker who makes a habit out of going after Elizabeth. So tell me how Stryker and Sorel are related?"

"They're brothers," he admitted quickly, then corrected, "Step brothers."

"And Philip Scarcella?"

"Their step father," he answered. Mike reached into his desk and pulled out the folder he'd kept on Scarcella's family. "You realize this is going to get me killed? Turning on them like this?"

"And what do you think turning on Sonny Corinthos will get you Mike?" Jason's hard stare penetrated through the man. "Everybody's gotta die somehow," Jason told him with a shrug. "But if you can prove to me the little girl in the picture is Abby, I might consider talking to Sonny about setting you up overseas somewhere. Would you like that Mikey?"

The older man grimaced at the use of his childhood nickname. The only people who still called him that were his brothers and his wife. "Yes sir."

"Good. Now tell me if that's Abby." Jason's voice was firm as he asked the question that could change his life.

Mike closed his eyes and sighed. He nodded his head slowly. "That's her, Mr. Morgan. She's living in Chicago with Philip Scarcella. She thinks Ronan Stryker is her father."

Jason sunk back down in the chair and sighed. He dropped his head into his hands and ground his palms into his eyes. His daughter thought Stryker was her father. "Tell me everything you know," he said not looking up.

Mike began to spell out the entire plan to Jason. How it had started when he and Elizabeth returned to Port Charles those years ago. How he thought they were still being used. Mike explained how all Sorel ever wanted to do was destroy Jason's life. He recounted a time when Sorel told him the most important person in Jason's life was Elizabeth. If they could break them up then Jason would be too down to protect himself.

When Mike was finished Jason, couldn't believe how long these people had been watching him. Sorel had been planning his downfall for years and hadn't cared that he himself would likely be a causality.

When the men stood to leave, Jason's cell phone rang. Knowing it could be Elizabeth he answered it right away. "Morgan."

"Jason?" her voice was panicked. Oh god, what if he wouldn't come. "Jason?" she asked again before she heard his voice come across the line.

Jason took the phone and moved out of Mike's office into the lobby. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?" The panic was evident in his voice. A million scenarios ran through his head and all he could see was the way she'd been tied to the chair that day in Stryker's office. "Where're you at?"

"Jason, we're at the hospital–" she began. Elizabeth heard a child's scream and turned hoping to find Isabelle awake.

"Hospital?" he questioned, gaining the guards attention. "What's happened Elizabeth?"

"Isabelle fell off the slide at the park. I'm sorry, Jason…I just…Stryker was there…I just turned around for a minute, Jason…please…don't be mad…I think she's okay but I wanted to get her checked just in case…she hit the ground pretty hard. What if she's got a concussion?" Elizabeth was nervous and she rambled. All she could think was What if he didn't come. Not liking that thought, she began talking again, "Jason–"

Jason heard her pause in the phone and he could picture her chewing her lip debating on what to say next. "Eliza–"

"Can you come?" She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and held her breath as she waited for him to answer.

"Of course," he assured her. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Have you called Sonny yet?"

"No, no. Can you call him? Jax, Andrew, and Jerry are with me. So I'm fine. But she's—she hasn't woken up yet, Jason, she's hurt. Hurry."

"Don't worry Elizabeth," he tried to calm her, "I'll be there in a few minutes. I'll call Sonny on the way."

"Thank you Jason."

And then she was gone. Jason looked up to meet the eyes of two worried bodyguards. "Isabelle's hurt. Elizabeth says she could have a concussion, but I don't think a doctor's seen her yet so I'm not sure." Jason turned back to Mike and sighed. "I can't do this–" he started.

"Don't worry," Mike interrupted. "Go take care of Elizabeth. She needs you."

Jason's gaze shifted briefly back to Mike's office and he saw a family picture hanging on the wall. A wife and a son. He turned back to face the private investigator and nodded shortly. "I'll call you."

"Fine, just go. Take care of your wife, Jason." But before the words were out of his mouth the three men were gone.

~*~



Elizabeth looked up from Isabelle and smiled when Jax entered the park. He glanced down at his watch to check the time. "Sorry, I got held up at the office."

"I imagine so," she gave him a wry smile. "You know, one day you'll have to tell me how you wrangled control of ELQ away from Edward. I'm sure it's a laughable story."

"It just might be," he teased her. Jax gave her one of his rare smiles. "So what's up?"

"I wanted to talk…" she hesitated, "about your least favorite topic."

"Well, I only have two of those. And since you stand firm behind Corinthos, I guess it'll be his partner in crime. Your lousy husband."

"Jax!" Elizabeth scolded. "He's not lousy," she assured him. "But yes, I want to talk about Jason."

"What about him?" he questioned.

"Alexis told me about the pictures last night. I'm assuming you spoke with her when she dropped Isa off this morning?"

"Yeah. She's been great, Jax. You're a fortunate guy, you know that right?"

"Yeah," he told her, "I know. I love Lexi…but that's not what we're here to talk about. So talk to me about Morgan."

"I love him," she admitted.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Isabelle interrupted. "Mommy, slide…want slide." The child pointed at the slide and tugged on her mother's hand. Elizabeth and Jax stood and started towards the smaller slide. From the corner of her eye Elizabeth saw both bodyguards shift so she and Isabelle remained in their view at all times. She gave Andrew a quick smile and then turned away.

"Okay, honey. We'll slide." Elizabeth followed Isabelle up the steps and Jax stood at the end to catch the child. When Isabelle was on her way down, Elizabeth continued, "Like I said. I love him. And I don't want a divorce."

"Have you told him?" Jax queried.

"This morning. He was on his way out and I just had to tell him…I had this bad feeling," she paused searching for the appropriate words, "like if I didn't tell him then, I might not get a chance."

"That's crazy Elizabeth." Jax caught Isabelle as she came down again and sent her running back to her mother. "Nothing will happen to him, you have to believe that. It seems like you might finally get the chance you've always wanted. If Abby's al–"

"Abby is alive." Elizabeth insisted.

"Are you sure?" he pressed.

"I—I can't explain it to you, Jax. But I know Abby is alive. Jason and Sonny'll get her back."

"So once again you're putting your faith in your Walkaway Joe and the Teflon Don, huh?"

"Jax–" she began to scold him again when she saw someone approach Jax from behind. "What're you doing here?" her voice was like ice.

Andrew and Jerry stepped forward, prepared to interfere. Ronan Stryker stood, a man flanking him on each side. "Really Elizabeth, we have to quit meeting like this."

"Like this?" she scoffed. "Are you following me? My husband–"

"Your husband is meeting with that coward Villalobos right now." He sneered the man's name. "Tell me Elizabeth, did you receive the gift my father sent you?"

"You bastard!" she started towards him. Jax easily caught her around the waist. "Let me go!" she cried.

"Elizabeth you need to calm down." Jax nodded to the two guards and they stepped forward.

Following suit Stryker's men stepped forward to guard their boss.

"Let me go," Elizabeth insisted.

"You won't go after him?" Jax asked. "Because I'm not letting you go if you are."

"Fine," she conceded. "But I do want to talk to him."

Jax released her, but kept a firm hand on her shoulder. "Come out from hiding," Elizabeth called.

The mobster stepped between his guards. "You called, Ms. Webber?"

"Mrs. Morgan," she corrected. "And don't forget it. When Jason's finished with you–"

"He'll what?" he interrupted. "I'm sure your precious husband will be too busy playing Daddy with Abby and Isabelle to pay any attention to me."

"If he doesn't kill you, I will," she threatened. "I'll make sure you die a slow and painful death, Mr. Stryker. Don't forget that. As my husband told you before You're only alive because he lets you live."

The coldness in her voice alarmed Stryker, but also Jax. He'd never heard her speak like that before. "Elizabeth," he began. Before he could continue, there was a thump.

Elizabeth whirled around and gasped, "Isa." The child was lying on the ground, her eyes were closed. Elizabeth rushed to her and picked her up gently. "Honey, wake up. Isa, open your eyes."

Jax was behind her and put a protective arm around the both. He glanced back at the guards and yelled, "Get the car. We're going to the hospital."

The child's eyes remained closed the entire time and her breathing was shallow. Stryker watched on, a look of intense satisfaction playing on his features. "Let's go, men," he ordered softly. Without another word, the three exited the park.

The trip to the hospital was made in silence. Elizabeth cried softly as she rocked Isabelle back and forth. She still hadn't opened her eyes. When they rushed through the doors of General Hospital she immediately saw Monica Quartermaine standing in the waiting area. "Monica," she called.

The older lady turned and took in the sight of her daughter-in-law cradling a child in her arms. A woman she hadn't seen in years. "Elizabeth?" she questioned.

"My daughter—Isabelle, Monica she's hurt. Help us," she pleaded.

Monica kicked into doctor mode and pushed the personal questions aside. "Bobbie, clear curtain three," she called. Taking the child from her mother's arms, Monica rushed towards the curtain and laid her on the bed. Silently Monica began to check her vitals and ticked off a round of tests in doctor jargon.

Elizabeth stood by, mutely worrying. Jax kept one arm around her. "Jason," she gasped. She checked her purse and realized she'd left it in the park. "Jax, let me borrow your phone."

"I don't–"

"Andrew!" she called. The bodyguard rushed over. "Your phone," she held out her hand. When he'd given it to her, she flipped it open and fought to remember the number she hadn't called in so long.

"It's number three, Mrs. Morgan," Andrew told her. In fact, Mr. Morgan had made sure the number was in his phone before he'd left her this morning.

It rang once before he answered. "Jason," she gasped into the phone. "Jason?"

Monica watched on as Elizabeth spoke with her son. When the young woman hung up, she approached her. "Elizabeth?" she asked softly.

Elizabeth turned to face Jason's mother and smiled softly. She hurried to her and threw her arms around her neck. "I'm sorry Monica. It's been so long, I was just worried about Isabelle."

"Her name's Isabelle?" she questioned. Taking Elizabeth's hand, Monica pulled her into the curtain. She started to object when Jax and one of the guards followed, but thought better of it. "How old is she?"

"Eighteen months," Elizabeth answered immediately. "How is she?"

"She's not awake yet Elizabeth and she's got quite a bump on her head. I called Tony Jones–"

"No," Elizabeth interrupted. "Jason wouldn't want him working on Isabelle. You can't let him near her."

"Okay," Monica tried to soothe her. "I'll call for another neurologist. But Tony is the best." She tipped her head towards the nurses' station and said, "But it's your call. I'll be right back."

Elizabeth watched Monica walk away. She wrapped her arms around her waist and sighed. "Please hurry Jason," she begged. After she closed the curtain she took a seat beside Isabelle's bed and took her tiny hand in hers. "Open your eyes, baby. Lemme see those beautiful blue eyes."

Monica ducked back inside the curtain again, a chart in hand. "Elizabeth I need some information, if that's okay."

Elizabeth nodded. "Okay."

"Full name?" Monica began at the beginning of the chart.

"Isabelle Hardy Morgan." Elizabeth studied the older woman for a reaction but received none.

"Birthdate?"

"April 13, 2004," Elizabeth answered automatically.

"Name of Mother and Father?" Monica sucked in her breath, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"You even have to ask?" Elizabeth questioned.

"It's procedure," Monica assured her. She felt relief flood her.

"Jason and Elizabeth Morgan." She smiled briefly at the use of their names together again. "Andrew," she called him over. "You have the insurance information."

The guard nodded and took out his wallet. He began shuffling through the cards he carried with him.

"Address?"

"Penthouse 3, Harborview Towers. Telephone number 687-1352. Monica, really. Can you have someone check Isabelle out now?"

At that moment, the curtain opened and Jason entered. Elizabeth stood immediately and went to him. She didn't hesitate and hugged him. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course I came," he told her. Jason's eyes shifted in the room to his daughters still form on the bed. "How is she?"

"She hasn't woken up," Elizabeth told him. "They wanted to send for Tony–"

"Jones?" he questioned. Jason's fists clinched as he remembered the man's testimony about him years before.

"But I told your mother to ask someone else."

It was then that Monica spoke. "Hello Jason."

He steeled himself for another confrontation. When they'd returned with Abby he'd smoothed things out with his mother and he and Alan managed to be civil towards each other. "Monica," he said informally. "How is she?"

"Right now all we know is she's got a nasty bump. The neurologist isn't here yet."

"What's taking so long?" he snapped. Jason immediately regretted the words when she flinched. "Monica–"

"I'll just see what's going on," his mother said before rushing out of the room.

"Damn it," he muttered. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before sighing deeply. Elizabeth's eyes were on him when he looked up. He reached for her again and fisted his hand in her hair, drawing her near. She pressed into his body and her arms wound around his waist.

Both Jax and Andrew slipped from behind the curtain discreetly, knowing the couple would need a few minutes.

When she pulled back, Jason looked down at her. He trailed the back of his hand down her cheek before his gaze shifted to Isabelle's still form. "What happened?" he asked softly.

"Stryker." The word was a sneer.