Morgan Household-
Dillon was awoken by the light that went through the window and struck his eyes. Groggily, he opened them and instantly moved around the bed in rapid succession. Where was he? The room wasn't his room... the bed wasn't his bed... he was still in the clothes that he remembered wearing the day before. What was going on? Dillon took a moment to breathe and made an earnest attempt at recollecting the events that had transpired. The haze was lifted a moment later. He was in Jason's penthouse, wasn't he? He was kicked out of the mansion, right? Everything seemed to be clicking into place. He recalled Jason's visit to the mansion... Damian's accident. Dillon looked around, wondering what the time was. He should have been back at the hospital. Why did he decide to even take the offer? The answer was actually pretty simple, he didn't have anywhere to go. He had been kicked out of the mansion. He couldn't ask Georgie for help, Mac wouldn't let him live there anyway. Courtney made him the offer... he didn't have anything else he could do.
Dillon put his feet over the left side of the bed. His shoes were off. He didn't remember taking them off. There was a lot that he didn't remember about the night before. Everyone was so drained from the emotional roller coaster that they were going through. He was still worried about his friend, but a part of Dillon was also worried about himself. Would he even survive living in the penthouse? Would Jason throw him out without even thinking about it? The minute Dillon stepped out of what Jason considered to be 'the line,' was he going to be gone? Maybe he should have just gone back to the mansion, appealed to his mother. Tracy loved him, didn't she? She always said that she did, and it was one of the only times that Dillon ever believed his mother. She'd welcome him back, wouldn't she?
The real question for Dillon wasn't if Tracy would let him back in her life, but if he wanted to be back in the mansion. He had always hated living there. Even though those people were his family, even though he had his grandmother and Emily around him, the only two members of the family that he really cared about, there was still so much that he didn't like. He hated the way that Edward would try and shape him in the same way that Edward had shaped Ned. Dillon didn't want to be his older brother, he didn't want to be his grandfather. Dillon wanted to be the person that he was. Dillon had vision, he had a uniqueness that nobody in the Quatermaine family could claim. It wasn't like Ned with his career as Eddie Maine, Dillon loved his dream too much to let anyone stomp it out. Ned loved being Eddie, but he couldn't love it more than he loved his family. That's why he stopped and took over ELQ again.
Dillon wasn't sure what he was going to do. He wasn't even sure that he was at a place that he would ever be able to call home. All he knew was that he needed time to think about it. He also needed some fresh clothing, but he wasn't going to be getting that anytime soon.
Jason was sitting on the couch. He looked at his wound. There would probably be a scar that would always be there, but it was healing extremely well. Perhaps that was because it sensed that Jason didn't want to be driven by his injury. He was going to find a way to beat it, like he beat everything else. Or, at the very least, almost everything else. He wasn't sure how he was going to deal with having a teenager living with him. He hadn't even said that Dillon could stay, but he knew that Courtney felt it best that the boy live with them for a time. Jason imagined a time when he thought that he would have his own teenage children running around the house. Dillon had barely stayed overnight and he was already causing Jason grief. Jason wondered how he'd be able to contain children of his own at that age, that he had to have responsibilities for. Dillon wasn't his responsibility, though. Dillon... wasn't even family. On some level he was, but on the level that Jason considered family, Dillon wasn't. Jason had nothing against Dillon, outside of the name, but that didn't mean that he particularly liked Dillon, either. Dillon had, after all, spent some time working for Alcazar, a man that Jason had nothing but contempt for.
Jason couldn't imagine what Courtney was thinking. He was now busy trying to balance his thoughts between three things: Dillon, Damian and Michael. He hated it when he had to do more than one thing at a time, it meant that he couldn't focus on something as much as he should have. Michael may have no longer been a problem, but he hadn't gone to look at Michael since the boy's temper tantrum the night before. As much as Jason didn't want to admit it, there was really nothing that he could do about Damian's condition. He wasn't a doctor, and he could only scarcely and innately remember what he had learned when he was apparently trying to be one. Dillon was the problem that he could have the highest chance of dealing with, much to his chagrin.
Dillon walked out, his hair even more hectic than it normally was due to the fact that it was bed hair and not stylized hair. He saw Jason on the couch, Jason's pale blue eyes looking directly at him. For a brief second, Dillon's heart stopped. Was Jason already thinking about getting rid of him? Those eyes gave him nothing in the way of comfort, all they managed to do was make him want to run back to the mansion and apologize. Dillon knew that he had done nothing wrong, though. He had done nothing worth apologizing to anyone, especially his mother, save for actually caring about someone. That wasn't a crime, that was something that should have been valued. It was something that Dillon did value, but Dillon was never the ideal Quatermaine. Dillon forced himself to say something. His first inclination was 'Don't kill me!' He knew that wasn't going to go over well, so he settled for something much simpler and more expected, "Morning, Jason."
Jason gave Dillon no actual response. He barely even moved. Dillon had a feeling that his cousin wasn't really a morning person. It wasn't hard to believe, Jason did most of his work at night anyway.
Dillon shifted uneasily. He knew that Jason was intimidating, but what he was feeling was more than intimidation, it was downright fear. He decided that he should have started talking on a topic that they both had some interest in. "Has there been any update on Damian or anything?"
Jason shook his head, "No, I haven't heard anything."
"I didn't even get to see him," Dillon mused to himself somberly. "Worse, Maxie didn't even get to see him. I know how much that tore at her."
"You and Maxie aren't family," Jason's voice did nothing to hide his emotionless state. "Sonny is. Sonny's also his father. He had every right to stay with Damian."
"I'm not denying that Sonny had a right to hang around the hospital, Jason," Dillon defended himself. "I'm just saying that it's really hard for me to think about what's happening to my friend right now when I couldn't even see him and make a judgment for myself."
"He got hit by a car, what more do you want?"
"I want some information," Dillon took a few steps forward and sat on the arm of the couch that Jason was on. "You know, I want to know what happened and if they can do something to help him."
Jason remembered that those were the things that he wanted after the accident. He didn't get what he wanted, though. However, even with that cold fact looming on him, he didn't want the same thing to happen with Damian. He wanted Damian to have answers, he wanted the hospital to help Damian in a way that they couldn't help him. "I would have told you if something had changed."
"Thanks," Dillon muttered.
"At any rate, we shouldn't look at the lack of information as anything bad. We should think of it as something good. They would have called if something had gone worse, but they would have called if something had gotten better. Since they haven't called we can only assume that nothings changed. I would rather have no update than one that said he had gotten worse, wouldn't you?"
Dillon couldn't argue with Jason's logic, "No, I guess I wouldn't." Dillon shifted subjects again, "Is Courtney around? I never really got a chance to thank her last night... you know, for letting me crash here."
"I wish she would have talked to me about that," Jason said.
"You don't want me to be here, do you?" Dillon could sense that he was going to get thrown out of the house before he had even had a chance to shower. His day wasn't getting any better.
"Dillon, I don't know if I can be a caretaker for a teenage boy like you..."
"I don't need a caretaker, Jason. I don't really need anything more than a roof over my head. Look, I'm going to be out of here, out of Port Charles, when I graduate from High School and go to college. How long is that going to be? Less than a year..."
"You really think that you're going to get out?" Jason asked.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like, Dillon. You can't really get out of this place, something always ends up calling you back. The Quatermaine's aren't going to let you go."
"They let you go..."
"I forced myself out of their lives because it was the best thing for me to do."
"Jason... I don't want to be a Quatermaine. I don't want to have the expectations that come with the name. I just want to be a regular teenager. I want to be Dillon Quatermaine two words, not Dillon Quatermaine one word. I don't think that's a lot to ask for, do you?"
"No, I guess not."
"Not for us, at least," Dillon continued. "But for the people that we're blood related to it is. We can never be good enough for Grandfather. I can never be good enough for my mother or my brother. I don't even want to try, because I know that deep down I won't allow myself to turn into what they want me to be. I don't want to betray myself in the way that they want me to. I won't sacrifice myself for that family, I've already given them too much and they haven't given me anything in return."
"You really want that?" Jason questioned. "You really want to break away from that family and try to be your own person?"
"Yeah," Dillon softly answered, "I do..."
Courtney was right. The two of them had more in common than they had thought. Jason couldn't let the Quatermaine's stomp out someone's soul. They would eventually do that to Dillon, unless someone stopped them from doing it. As much as Jason hated to admit it, that person was him, it had to be him. "I might regret this... but I'm willing to try this whole living situation if you are."
"Really?" Dillon was elated.
"I know what you're going through. I may not remember a lot of it, but I know that I'll never forget what it's like to not be an ideal Quatermaine. I didn't want to fight that alone, and I don't want you to do it."
Dillon was about to hug Jason and declare his gratitude, but Jason's cold eyes made him back off. Maybe a hand shake would do... When Dillon put his hand out, Jason just looked at it. "Umm... thanks."
"That works," Jason said simply. He was already starting to wonder what he had gotten himself into.
Dillon was awoken by the light that went through the window and struck his eyes. Groggily, he opened them and instantly moved around the bed in rapid succession. Where was he? The room wasn't his room... the bed wasn't his bed... he was still in the clothes that he remembered wearing the day before. What was going on? Dillon took a moment to breathe and made an earnest attempt at recollecting the events that had transpired. The haze was lifted a moment later. He was in Jason's penthouse, wasn't he? He was kicked out of the mansion, right? Everything seemed to be clicking into place. He recalled Jason's visit to the mansion... Damian's accident. Dillon looked around, wondering what the time was. He should have been back at the hospital. Why did he decide to even take the offer? The answer was actually pretty simple, he didn't have anywhere to go. He had been kicked out of the mansion. He couldn't ask Georgie for help, Mac wouldn't let him live there anyway. Courtney made him the offer... he didn't have anything else he could do.
Dillon put his feet over the left side of the bed. His shoes were off. He didn't remember taking them off. There was a lot that he didn't remember about the night before. Everyone was so drained from the emotional roller coaster that they were going through. He was still worried about his friend, but a part of Dillon was also worried about himself. Would he even survive living in the penthouse? Would Jason throw him out without even thinking about it? The minute Dillon stepped out of what Jason considered to be 'the line,' was he going to be gone? Maybe he should have just gone back to the mansion, appealed to his mother. Tracy loved him, didn't she? She always said that she did, and it was one of the only times that Dillon ever believed his mother. She'd welcome him back, wouldn't she?
The real question for Dillon wasn't if Tracy would let him back in her life, but if he wanted to be back in the mansion. He had always hated living there. Even though those people were his family, even though he had his grandmother and Emily around him, the only two members of the family that he really cared about, there was still so much that he didn't like. He hated the way that Edward would try and shape him in the same way that Edward had shaped Ned. Dillon didn't want to be his older brother, he didn't want to be his grandfather. Dillon wanted to be the person that he was. Dillon had vision, he had a uniqueness that nobody in the Quatermaine family could claim. It wasn't like Ned with his career as Eddie Maine, Dillon loved his dream too much to let anyone stomp it out. Ned loved being Eddie, but he couldn't love it more than he loved his family. That's why he stopped and took over ELQ again.
Dillon wasn't sure what he was going to do. He wasn't even sure that he was at a place that he would ever be able to call home. All he knew was that he needed time to think about it. He also needed some fresh clothing, but he wasn't going to be getting that anytime soon.
Jason was sitting on the couch. He looked at his wound. There would probably be a scar that would always be there, but it was healing extremely well. Perhaps that was because it sensed that Jason didn't want to be driven by his injury. He was going to find a way to beat it, like he beat everything else. Or, at the very least, almost everything else. He wasn't sure how he was going to deal with having a teenager living with him. He hadn't even said that Dillon could stay, but he knew that Courtney felt it best that the boy live with them for a time. Jason imagined a time when he thought that he would have his own teenage children running around the house. Dillon had barely stayed overnight and he was already causing Jason grief. Jason wondered how he'd be able to contain children of his own at that age, that he had to have responsibilities for. Dillon wasn't his responsibility, though. Dillon... wasn't even family. On some level he was, but on the level that Jason considered family, Dillon wasn't. Jason had nothing against Dillon, outside of the name, but that didn't mean that he particularly liked Dillon, either. Dillon had, after all, spent some time working for Alcazar, a man that Jason had nothing but contempt for.
Jason couldn't imagine what Courtney was thinking. He was now busy trying to balance his thoughts between three things: Dillon, Damian and Michael. He hated it when he had to do more than one thing at a time, it meant that he couldn't focus on something as much as he should have. Michael may have no longer been a problem, but he hadn't gone to look at Michael since the boy's temper tantrum the night before. As much as Jason didn't want to admit it, there was really nothing that he could do about Damian's condition. He wasn't a doctor, and he could only scarcely and innately remember what he had learned when he was apparently trying to be one. Dillon was the problem that he could have the highest chance of dealing with, much to his chagrin.
Dillon walked out, his hair even more hectic than it normally was due to the fact that it was bed hair and not stylized hair. He saw Jason on the couch, Jason's pale blue eyes looking directly at him. For a brief second, Dillon's heart stopped. Was Jason already thinking about getting rid of him? Those eyes gave him nothing in the way of comfort, all they managed to do was make him want to run back to the mansion and apologize. Dillon knew that he had done nothing wrong, though. He had done nothing worth apologizing to anyone, especially his mother, save for actually caring about someone. That wasn't a crime, that was something that should have been valued. It was something that Dillon did value, but Dillon was never the ideal Quatermaine. Dillon forced himself to say something. His first inclination was 'Don't kill me!' He knew that wasn't going to go over well, so he settled for something much simpler and more expected, "Morning, Jason."
Jason gave Dillon no actual response. He barely even moved. Dillon had a feeling that his cousin wasn't really a morning person. It wasn't hard to believe, Jason did most of his work at night anyway.
Dillon shifted uneasily. He knew that Jason was intimidating, but what he was feeling was more than intimidation, it was downright fear. He decided that he should have started talking on a topic that they both had some interest in. "Has there been any update on Damian or anything?"
Jason shook his head, "No, I haven't heard anything."
"I didn't even get to see him," Dillon mused to himself somberly. "Worse, Maxie didn't even get to see him. I know how much that tore at her."
"You and Maxie aren't family," Jason's voice did nothing to hide his emotionless state. "Sonny is. Sonny's also his father. He had every right to stay with Damian."
"I'm not denying that Sonny had a right to hang around the hospital, Jason," Dillon defended himself. "I'm just saying that it's really hard for me to think about what's happening to my friend right now when I couldn't even see him and make a judgment for myself."
"He got hit by a car, what more do you want?"
"I want some information," Dillon took a few steps forward and sat on the arm of the couch that Jason was on. "You know, I want to know what happened and if they can do something to help him."
Jason remembered that those were the things that he wanted after the accident. He didn't get what he wanted, though. However, even with that cold fact looming on him, he didn't want the same thing to happen with Damian. He wanted Damian to have answers, he wanted the hospital to help Damian in a way that they couldn't help him. "I would have told you if something had changed."
"Thanks," Dillon muttered.
"At any rate, we shouldn't look at the lack of information as anything bad. We should think of it as something good. They would have called if something had gone worse, but they would have called if something had gotten better. Since they haven't called we can only assume that nothings changed. I would rather have no update than one that said he had gotten worse, wouldn't you?"
Dillon couldn't argue with Jason's logic, "No, I guess I wouldn't." Dillon shifted subjects again, "Is Courtney around? I never really got a chance to thank her last night... you know, for letting me crash here."
"I wish she would have talked to me about that," Jason said.
"You don't want me to be here, do you?" Dillon could sense that he was going to get thrown out of the house before he had even had a chance to shower. His day wasn't getting any better.
"Dillon, I don't know if I can be a caretaker for a teenage boy like you..."
"I don't need a caretaker, Jason. I don't really need anything more than a roof over my head. Look, I'm going to be out of here, out of Port Charles, when I graduate from High School and go to college. How long is that going to be? Less than a year..."
"You really think that you're going to get out?" Jason asked.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like, Dillon. You can't really get out of this place, something always ends up calling you back. The Quatermaine's aren't going to let you go."
"They let you go..."
"I forced myself out of their lives because it was the best thing for me to do."
"Jason... I don't want to be a Quatermaine. I don't want to have the expectations that come with the name. I just want to be a regular teenager. I want to be Dillon Quatermaine two words, not Dillon Quatermaine one word. I don't think that's a lot to ask for, do you?"
"No, I guess not."
"Not for us, at least," Dillon continued. "But for the people that we're blood related to it is. We can never be good enough for Grandfather. I can never be good enough for my mother or my brother. I don't even want to try, because I know that deep down I won't allow myself to turn into what they want me to be. I don't want to betray myself in the way that they want me to. I won't sacrifice myself for that family, I've already given them too much and they haven't given me anything in return."
"You really want that?" Jason questioned. "You really want to break away from that family and try to be your own person?"
"Yeah," Dillon softly answered, "I do..."
Courtney was right. The two of them had more in common than they had thought. Jason couldn't let the Quatermaine's stomp out someone's soul. They would eventually do that to Dillon, unless someone stopped them from doing it. As much as Jason hated to admit it, that person was him, it had to be him. "I might regret this... but I'm willing to try this whole living situation if you are."
"Really?" Dillon was elated.
"I know what you're going through. I may not remember a lot of it, but I know that I'll never forget what it's like to not be an ideal Quatermaine. I didn't want to fight that alone, and I don't want you to do it."
Dillon was about to hug Jason and declare his gratitude, but Jason's cold eyes made him back off. Maybe a hand shake would do... When Dillon put his hand out, Jason just looked at it. "Umm... thanks."
"That works," Jason said simply. He was already starting to wonder what he had gotten himself into.