"Miss Quatermaine, I apologize for my clumsiness…"

"But you don't feel the need to apologize for planting the seeds that grew inside my son's head that gave him the idea that he needed to leave his family, his mother…"

"Jason and Courtney are his family…"

"Jason is about as much a member of the Quatermaines as the various members of my esteemed lineage who line up the local cemetery. Jason Quatermaine is dead to us, my young criminal in training, unfortunately for most of my fellow family members, I seem to be the only person who can even see that very simple fact. And Courtney… we won't even discuss that girl… how I was momentarily related, even by marriage, to someone who used to strip for money I will never understand…"

"My Aunt may have a past that she isn't very proud of, Miss Quatermaine, but she admits her mistakes and she's learned from them. She's a better person now than she was when she first arrived here."

"Because moving from a stripper to a mob princess is such a convincing and acceptable leap on the social ladder."

"Are you done yet?" Damian knew that the woman was Dillon's mother, but that didn't mean that he couldn't have an opinion on Tracy. His opinion? He really, really didn't like her. "Because it takes a certain type of person on this purported social ladder that you seem to be so fond of to speak about a person when they're not even here…"

"Fine, we won't talk about someone who isn't here. We'll talk about the person that's right in front of me. That would be you, Damian Zuniga… or Corinthos, or whatever the hell you're calling yourself at this time of the month… you know, when Dillon first said that he had made an older friend, I was somewhat thrilled for my child. I thought that maybe, just maybe he was starting to expand his horizons, associate himself with people who would set him on the right track in life. Impart wisdom on Dillon that people like that supposedly well-educated little rat that he's so fond of couldn't possibly hope to grasp. Maybe the friend, that would be you, something I didn't know at the time but for the sake of telling the story in an honest way we'll go with this…"

"You can tell a story in a way that's honest?" Damian ribbed Tracy. Not only was she insulting him, his family, but now he was insulting his friends.

"Don't interrupt me you petty, low-income louse or I'll find a way to send you back to the ghettos of Los Angeles so fast that you won't even know what hit you. At least there you wouldn't be staining my streets with your blood… again. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you would help Dillon become a better person. Instead, you only helped send him down a path that I never wanted for him."

"I had nothing to do with Dillon's decision to leave the Quatermaine Mansion. I wasn't even conscious at the time that he decided that. I was in a coma, remember? I'm sure you do, since you seem to remember the time when my blood stained your precious streets quite fondly."

"It's almost a day where I would declare a personal holiday… and it would be, if it weren't also the day where my son made the decision to walk out of my life!"

Damian could see that Dillon was observing the two. Luckily, he was the one who could see Dillon, Tracy had her back turned to her son, and if she could see him… she would see that he was less than pleased. "You are the one who threw your child, your baby, who you claim to love with all of your heart and soul, however much of both of those you might be able to actually muster up in your being. If you want anyone to blame for what happened with Dillon, Miss Quatermaine, you really should just look at yourself. You used what little love and respect that Dillon felt that he could give you and tried to control him with it. How long did you really think that it was going to last? He still cares about you… but you refuse to change, you refuse to accept him for who he is, for the friends and the loves that he's made. What do you want, lady?"

"I want my baby back," Tracy said bluntly. "I want you people to stop poisoning his mind with whatever it is…"

"Compassion."

"In your delusion, I'm sure that it could be thought of as that, but I'm not going to give you the credit for your ignorance that most other people would. Dillon is my son, he is my blood, he is the single most important aspect of my life."

"You care about him, don't you?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"One that deserves an answer, wouldn't you say?" There was something about Tracy that was obvious. The way that she talked was harsh, venomous, downright mean, but when she spoke about Dillon, about how he wasn't in her life any more, there was something else. There was regret.

"He's my son, I love him. I don't just care about him the way that I care about a business partner. I would protect Dillon with everything that I could muster up if I felt that he needed it, if someone hurt my child, I would do whatever it took to make sure that they paid in kind for what they did."

"You have an exceptionally odd way of showing how you care about Dillon, Miss Quatermaine."

"Some people would assume that I didn't show it at all. Are you one of those people?"

"No, I'm not, at least not any more. I may not have ever truly been one of them, but speaking to you… it put something in perspective for me. You should appreciate my influence on Dillon a little bit more, though."

"Give me one good reason."

"How many times has Dillon gone to spend time with you since he managed to get away from the mansion?" Damian knew the answer, and he also knew that Tracy knew. She wouldn't forget the moments where Dillon actually managed to go spend time with her. They were, no doubt, the high point of her day, her week, quite possibly her month.

"Only a handful… less than six. Why?" Tracy was curious as to why he seemed to care.

"He didn't want to see you at first, Miss Quatermaine. He wanted to wash himself clean of you completely, and he was ready to do that, to push you out of his life. You crossed a line that no mother should ever cross. You wanted him to sacrifice the person that he was so that he could still be your little boy. Who do you think drove Dillon to the Mansion, quite literally kicking and screaming each time? Who do you think convinced him each and every time that you're his mother, that, even though you might have done some horrible things to him, nothing will change that?"

"You're not really expecting me to believe that you would take the time out of your own life to make sure that my son spent time with me, do you?"

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but my mother died when I was younger than Dillon is now, younger than he was when he came to Port Charles. Much like you and him, Miss Quatermaine, at the time that she died, she was the only parent I had. I might have had a family around me that you denied Dillon growing up, but I could only have one mother. When she died a part of me was gone, and I would give anything, anything to have just one more moment with my mom. Dillon was willing to throw away the past that he had with you, the good in addition to everything that was bad. I'm his best friend, or so I like to think that I am, and it is my job as his best friend, as someone who, very much like you, is concerned with the wellbeing of someone that I care about, to make sure that he doesn't make mistakes that he'll regret. If he phased you out of his life, he would regret that when he lost you. I couldn't let that happen."

"Your sob story might work on some people, Damian, but I am not one of them." Tracy was lying, bold faced lying, but it was one of the many things that she was good at. Some would say that it was the thing that she was best at.

"Then think about it, Miss Quatermaine. Think about who is a part of Dillon's life now. Jason, Courtney, Carly, Georgie… how many of those people would willingly defend the bond that you have with your son? The answer, I'm sure you're quick to realize, is none. Your only ally in keeping your son in your life is me, Miss Quatermaine, you might not want to push me away, too. I'm a Corinthos, because of that I'm also incredibly stubborn, willing to stick it out when a fight comes, but even I have my limits." Damian began to move away, "Enjoy your Christmas party at the mansion tonight…"

"How did you know about that? The party?"

"Dillon was telling me about it before. There was something in his eyes that showed he had a big fondness for the event, but there was also the sadness in those same eyes that showed he didn't feel like he could go."

"He's family, he's always welcome."

"Not because you don't want him there," Damian corrected her, "but because he doesn't want himself there." Leaving Tracy to wallow in the mistakes that she had made during her life, Damian walked away.

Ric might have wanted to watch Damian. If he had, he probably would have gone to his nephew's aid… although Damian wouldn't have needed it. There was an assumption about Tracy Quatermaine, she didn't back down. Ric would have thought that she would have eaten Damian without batting an eyelash. He would have been impressed with the way that the boy did in fact handle himself.

But Ric had many other things on his mind. Or, more precisely, one thing on his mind that took priority over everything else, even his nephew, which he knew Damian understood. It was, after all, his actions that brought him next to Elizabeth. She was talking to some people, obviously about the design of the scene that she created. He was watching her intently.

Audrey had managed to break away from some of the various people who would give donations to the hospital, she made sure that she did when she saw that Ric had indeed attended the party. She had her reservations about Ric, everyone did. And at that moment, she wasn't really happy with her ex-grandson-in-law. "If you're here to ruin Elizabeth's day, I want to you leave right now before you can make her cry… again."

"Audrey, that's the last thing I've ever wanted to do…"

"Yet it's often the first thing that you actually end up doing, Ric." She sighed. "I know that, most of the time, your intentions are good. Misguided, but good. Elizabeth needs someone who can offer her stability in her life."

"Someone like Lucky Spencer, maybe?" Ric asked bitterly.

"Elizabeth doesn't want to be with Lucky, not any more, but she'll have her heart set on being with you again unless you break away from her. Ric, I know you love her, but the way that you are… it might not be what she needs. If you love a person you can let them go, even if it hurts, if it is what is best for them."

"Gram?" Elizabeth had broken away from her own crowd, but Audrey was speaking to someone that she couldn't see. "Who are you…" she saw him, just the smallest part of his face, and she knew that it was him. "Ric…"

"Elizabeth…" Ric's voice was the same as hers, breathless, enamored.

"Thank you for coming," she smiled, blushing.

"I told you I wouldn't miss this, didn't I? I know how important this is to you. I didn't want to do something that would hurt you, and missing this would…" he gave a cautious eye to Audrey.

"I think I see Bobbie… I'll go ask her where our Santa is…"

Ric and Elizabeth said nothing to one another, they just continued to stare at each other, both afraid to make the first move, as if any little word would mean that they would lose everything that they had.

Maxie came around the corner. She was trying to avoid being seen in the outfit as much as she possibly could be, but it was getting ever closer to the moment where she would need to be in public for a period of time, she might as well have gotten it over with. The bracelet that she got was clearly displayed, but the letter was with her regular clothes. She had read it a few times over, and she was still touched that Damian was willing to do something that was so nice.

She saw him, he was walking around. Sneaking up behind him, she covered his eyes, "You can't find anyone if you can't see…"

"No, but I can hear their voice… and feel their hands. Do you think it's a little odd that I know the way that your hands feel?"

"A little, yeah, but it's also kind of romantic."

"Good. Maxie, take your hands, beautiful and lovely though they may be, off my eyes, please." As soon as she did what he requested, he saw the outfit. "You see? You were complaining about this, and it looks wonderful on you."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not. Really, I like it. You should wear it more often."

"Now you're lying."

He gave a toothy grin, "Maybe a little." He had seen Monica, Alan and Bobbie coming up together, something that he didn't take into very much consideration, until they stopped in front of him. "More labor, Bobbie?"

"Quite the opposite…" Bobbie said, hiding something, something that made her very proud.

Alan spoke, holding Monica's hand, "We never got to thank you for saving that man who had the seizure… he would have died without your help."

"You would have done the same, even at my age." Damian didn't want to go through another overzealous amount of praise.

"Even so… you showed something that most people wouldn't have," Monica let go of Alan's hand to walk closer to Damian. "We looked at your grades at the school, they're very good, and your other grades at the college you went to in Los Angeles were also stellar. Normally we don't usually do this sort of thing… but we're offering you a chance to intern with us directly as soon as the semester begins."