Rating: PG
Summary: Jason's Funeral. Courtney's reaction.
Chapter One
The wintry air that swirled about her was of little consequence to her senses. Her skin was numb. It bore no feelings towards the cutting wind. Were it not for the salt that perpetually tingled against her tongue when she licked her dried lips, Courtney was sure that even she would not be aware that she was crying.
Tears clung stubbornly to her lashes. She refused to wipe them though, even when they burned her eyes. She refused to do naught but stare in disbelief at the fifty thousand dollar casket that sat tauntingly in front of her.
After a full ten minutes of doing nothing but staring, she looked about her at her surroundings. The day was beautiful. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The cemetery was surprisingly full. Her remaining family was all there, except for her mother. She hadn't bothered to call her, unwilling to hear another bout of what-did-I-say's and I-told you-so's.
All of her brother's associates were there. Around fifty strong. Most were probably insincerely remorseful, but all were too scared to do anything other than pay their respects. Ric was with Alexis and Kristina. They had left their newborn at home with a sitter. Both were suspiciously rubbing their eyes in intervals.
Jax sat with Sam. Though the baby hadn't turned out to be his, he still supported her through her pregnancy and was rewarded by his faith. Sam stayed with him after her child had been still born. The two of them were happy now, one year after the incident had occurred.
Felecia and her two girls were there. Mac wisely stayed away from today's proceedings, wary of another showdown similar to that which had taken place at the wake. Elizabeth was there, holding hands with Lucky. Tears ran freely down her face. But then again, why wouldn't they. She and the man who lay blissfully unaware in the casket, had had history.
Jason's family was there.
Every.
Single.
Quartermaine.
Not one of their eyes were dry.
Monica and Alan were the most distraught of them all, and that surprised her. She would have thought that his sister's grief, Emily, would be greater, but she was composed as she sat next to Nicholas. Almost a bit like herself. Stone still, crying silent tears, all the while mesmerized by the box that sat in front of them. Skye and Lorenzo sat next to each other. Both not saying a word, and yet both deeply disturbed.
But Alan and Monica.
Yes…there would be no comforting them for a long while.
Perhaps they cried for the son they had birthed. The doctor to be, Jason Quartermaine. Or maybe they cried for the person whom they had lost in their brain damaged estranged son, Jason Morgan. Either way, they wrapped themselves about each other and wept.
Strangely, now that she came to think of it, it all made a certain amount of sense. They had lost two people in one. While she had only known him as Jason, closest friend and number two to notorious mafia aficionado Sonny Corinthos, they had known the boy who could do no wrong and had had a full ride to an Ivy League college.
Suddenly a strongly coherent thought came to her, and she looked up to the sky, silently thanking God for small favors. His grandmother hadn't lived to see this moment and she was glad.
It would have broken her heart.
Carly sat next to her, to her right to be exact, and could barely contain herself. Courtney understood. Carly had lost her best friend. The only one who really got her…even more so than her own husband. She had lost her first love.
Morgan sat in his mother's lap, while Michael sat on Courtney's left. She wanted to be there for him. She wanted to put her arm around him and comfort him. It was what any Aunt would and should do after all, but she could barely be there for herself. As it was, he had lost the first man who had been a father to him. The one who had been there even when Carly, his own mother, was unable to do so.
Michael took up his own initiative and simply buried his face in her lap. Leticia sat next to him and did what Courtney couldn't. With tears of her own in her eyes, she bent over Micheal and whispered words of comfort into his ear.
Sonny sat next to Carly and she couldn't help but feel scared for him. She knew how tragedy affected her brother. His mind would get swallowed in the darkness, and it was hard to pull him out. He had come to his senses the past three or so times, but now was different. This wasn't a deceased lover, not that they weren't important. Here was his best friend. His most trusted ally. The man who had forgiven him, even when he had slept with the woman Jason was in love with and inadvertently taken his family from right underneath his nose. Even when Jason ran away from them, unable to handle their betrayal, he had still given them a means of letting Sonny have custody of Michael. Of letting Sonny be the father to a boy Jason so desperately loved.
Plainly said, Jason was Sonny's brother. And now he was dead. He hadn't died naturally from an unnatural disease, like the infamous Stone had, but he had died protecting him in the midst of yet another shoot out. She knew that he would feel guilty. Courtney fervently hoped that the guilt wouldn't eat away his sanity.
And then there was her. Her skin was still numb. Her mind was still blank, but she was no closer to accepting his passing. She couldn't understand why he would leave her now. After all they had been through. The kidnappings, the miscarriage, the shootouts, the violence, the divorce, their reunion.
And to make matters worse…the thing that was so indefensibly ironic, was that she had somehow gotten pregnant. She was only two and half months along but she still showed. Yes, it was only noticeable if one looked close enough to her stomach or if her shirt was skin tight…but the proof of their child was present nonetheless.
Jason had said that it was her karma; it was her innate goodness that had provided the doorway to make such a miracle happen. She told him that it was God. Neither of them had ever been particularly religious, but she still knew an omnipotent hand at work when she saw it. There was just no other explanation. Or so the doctors had said, who, up until now, couldn't find a reason behind or explicate how their miracle baby had been conceived.
Courtney placed a hand on her stomach, the most action she'd done since she sat down that morning.
"Dearly beloved," this could have been a wedding she thought. "We are gathered here to remember and celebrate the life of the wonderful man that was Jason Quartermaine Morgan."
She heard Carly give a loud moan of distress next to her, but Courtney remained silent. The only thing that she did, was clutch her stomach as Father Coates pressed relentlessly on.
"Jason possessed so many wonderful traits that it is hard to know where to begin."
"No," Courtney whispered. This was all wrong. She had been silent at the church because she was waiting for him to somehow appear out from behind the beautifully arranged flowers, or walk in on his own funeral like Carly had done four years ago. She was waiting for him to reveal himself and then yell "I was only kidding." But now, things were getting serious. His body was about to be laid to rest and Jason was yet to pop out from inside of the box.
"He was a loving son, brother, and friend. He asked nothing of anyone and accepted everyone for who they were and what they represented, regardless of their personal shortcomings."
"No." This time her voice rose a fraction more in decibel.
"His character was laced with eloquence and simplicity. He loved those who allowed him to love them." A sob escaped Monica's lips. "And they loved him just as equally in return." Father Cotes surveyed the mourners for a moment, then his eyes settled on her. "Yet he loved no one more so than his wife and unborn child who presently survive him."
Courtney felt as if she was unable to breath. As if she might explode.
"I stand before you saying this with complete surety in my omission as it was I who re-married them almost two years ago at St. Agnes Church."
"No," she said again. This time loud enough for Carly to turn and look at her questioningly.
"Courtney," she whispered hesitantly.
But Courtney couldn't hear her.
"No," she yelled out.
This time everyone turned to stare at her. Father Coates stopped too.
"Mrs. Morgan would you like to—"
But Father Coates could kiss her ass right now. All she wanted was her husband back. All she wanted was to feel his arms around her. Was that so unreasonable?
"Jason," she yelled and sobbed all at the same time.
Courtney jumped out of her seat, Michael be damned, and ran to the casket.
"Jason WHY," she cried, her voice broken by the sobs that were heaving through her chest.
Vaguely she heard someone say: "Courtney don't," but that person could kiss her ass too.
Unable to support her weight anymore, she dropped on top of the expensive wood.
"Jason WHY," she said again. This time she screamed the 'why,' loud enough to wake the dead.
Sonny came behind his sister and wrapped his arms around her trying to pull her up.
Courtney struggled. She didn't want anyone touching her.
"No," she screamed. "NOOOOO."
Carly covered one hand over her face and used the other to clutch Morgan, almost unable to bear what she was witnessing.
"SONNY NO," Courtney yelled. She didn't understand why he was so hell bent on holding her all of a sudden. If only she could touch Jason she knew that he would tell her that he was okay. That this was all an elaborate hoax.
Suddenly she got the idea to reason with Sonny instead of fighting him.
Courtney stilled in his arms. Both of them were on their knees when she turned to face him. Her eyes were wide and horror stricken as if she had seen an extremely scary movie and realized that the movie was actually her life.
Tears were running in rivulets down her face.
"Just let me see him so he can tell me he's okay, alright Sonny, and then we can all leave."
The sincerity that gripped her voice did what this whole ordeal hadn't and brought tears to his eyes.
"He's dead Courtney."
She began to shake her head, but he caught it firmly in between his hands. Staring at her, unable to give a shit about the rest of the people that were witnessing this who weren't Carly, Letecia, and his children, he let a few tears fall.
"He's dead."
Tired and somewhat defeated she let out a half-hearted 'no' and fell into her brother's waiting arms.
Sonny held her tightly. He had known all along that this would be the result. She hadn't cried when he died. All that'd escaped her when his last breath passed were dry sobs. The wake was more of the same, minus the sobs. It was almost as if she was expecting something unbelievable to happen. Like she was waiting for Jason to walk through the church doors.
He hadn't known that it would be today, but he knew that there would be a crash. There was always one for him. The only thing that gave him a modicum of control this time around was the fact that he knew he had to be alert in order to get his revenge. Oh yes. Those who were responsible would pay dearly. And not just with their lives. He was going to forfeit his own personal rule and track down those sonsabitches families. Their wives, their children, and their friends would all pay. And the ones who had any part to do with Jason's murder, would watch. And then, he was going to kill them too. Maybe not with his bare hands, but a soft nose .22 at close range in the kneecaps, ankles, and lastly skulls would suffice. Yes…
…the bittersweet promise of revenge was what kept Sonny going. It was what kept him sane. He had already lost so much. First Lily, then Stone, then Brenda. He thought he'd lost Carly, but luckily for his peace of mind, that was just a huge misunderstanding. He felt his thoughts momentarily buckle under the pressure of those memories, but the assuredness of his impending retribution balanced his sanity.
Sonny enjoyed a deep sigh because he was comforted, and suddenly, there were no more tears.
Courtney, however, cried until she hadn't any tears left. Her body heaved and ached, but she didn't let go of Sonny. Which was what allowed him to help her stand up and move her to their seats. She sat next to him and without another word…Carly had taken her old chair… rested her head on his shoulder.
No one said anything or did anything. It was if the disturbance hadn't occurred. Father Coates resumed his speech and finished without further interruption. He asked the congregation at large it we had any final words (Carly shuddered when he said that), but no one stood up. To someone walking off the street, it might have looked as if none of them cared. But Carly knew differently. She knew that they had all been silenced by their profound sadness. That they were too grief stricken to talk—and besides which, all that needed to be said, had been said at his wake.
And so it went. Jason Quartermaine Morgan was laid to rest on a beautiful February day at eleven thirty in the morning.
He was thirty-four years old.
Soft Nose .22: Soft Nose 22 bullets don't just penetrate the skin, but they explode on impact. They leave a big hole inside of the person who it hits and at close range, it is fairly certain that the person will not only die, but bear excruciating pain until the moment of death.
Author's Note: Do you want me to continue? If so, let me know. The thing that set's this fic apart from all my others is that this time, I actually have a PLAN. I know how I would write my other chapters. They would be a reflection on the major events that have happened in Journey's relationship, starting from them getting re-married to Jason's untimely death. No more than 6 or 7 chapters. Rating increase for certain chapters. So really…let me know.
