"Did you get the job done?"
Dex sat on the bed of his hotel room, his phone in hand. His back was against the headboard, and his eyes scanned the text thread on the screen while the familiar voice on the other end echoed through the speaker.
"I did," Dex replied, "She was impaled by one of the rocks on the beach."
"Really? Brutal."
"Sonny has her now. According to him, she's 'hidden in the pine barrens.'"
"Sounds about right from what you've told me about him," the man on the other end laughed, "so now what, you got the night off?"
"Pretty much. And yet here I am, sitting here in my hotel room, giving you intel."
"Of course. Your work with me is never done," the man teased, "and my faith in you hasn't been misplaced…yet."
"Oh good," Dex rolled his eyes, "that's what every son wants to hear from their father."
"I only say it because it's true."
"This isn't my first rodeo, you know."
"I do. You've done decent work, I suppose."
"You suppose?"
"I gave this job back to you when I thought you could handle it."
"You only took it away because I was on my deathbed."
"I was looking out for you."
"Yes, because sending me to spy on a rival family only to end up almost dying in a fight is 'looking out for me.'"
"Taking the job away because of that was me looking out for you. Du bist so ein Klugscheißer."
"Das ist deine Schuld."
The man chuckled softly, "...Good God you really are your mother."
Dex's expression softened. He felt a small tug on his heart. The gentle hum of static filled his ears, the texts on screen growing blurry, as if a dark haze clouded his mind.
"Dex? Did I lose you?"
"No…" Dex said subconsciously, "No. I'm still here."
"Zoned out again?"
"...Sorry."
"No need," Dex set his phone down on the nearby nightstand, getting to his feet. He walked over to one of his suitcases resting in a corner of the room. He opened the large front pocket and pulled out a collection of folded papers. There was an echo in the room as he walked back to the bed, "Not the first time it's happened, certainly won't be the last."
"You'd think I'd be used to it by now-" a small ding sounded from Dex's phone. A text from Michael dropped down from the top of the screen.
From: Michael (8:04 PM)
Can you call?
"What was that?" the man asked.
"Michael," Dex replied with a slight groan, "I'll call you back."
"Sounds good."
To: Michael (8:05 PM)
What's up?
While Dex waited for Michael's response, he opened the first folded paper. It was a letter, greatly wrinkled and worn with age and use. The cursive, detailed in blue ink, was still intact. The paper fit his grip perfectly, and he ran a thumb gently over the material.
Dearest Son,
There is calmness found in the eye of a hurricane. Sailors braved chaotic waters for centuries, and in between those turbulent storms existed a pocket of relief. In the violence of my life, I found peace with you.
Our family legacy is quite storied, but within the chaos and anarchy our ancestors created, a sense of strength and resiliency was built into our DNA. It came to you the moment you were born, when your lungs were finally able to fill with air. I'm so thankful that that fighting spirit within you succeeded.
The phone vibrated on the bed as Michael's name appeared on the screen. Dex sighed, picking up the device. He pressed down to accept the call, wincing as he heard Michael sigh to greet him, "We need to talk."
"Hello to you too," Dex huffed, "What do we need to talk about?"
"I know you found Esme Prince," Michael said, "and I know that she's somewhere in the pine barrens."
"I don't need you to recap what happened to me; I was there."
"I'm saying it because I have an idea of how to take down my father for good."
"And that is…?" Dex sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand before turning his attention back to the letter.
I've lived a life full of coldness and brutality. The people who are meant to nurture and cherish me, to love me the way I do you, shaped me into a person I wasn't meant to be. The four walls we exist in no longer make up a home, but a prison. This should not be the life you live. I'll see to it that it won't be.
While our present circumstances are quite stifling, our future will be bright. These walls will be but a memory for me, and an absent reality for you.
"Esme has been sought after by a lot of people," Michael began, "She's done some terrible things, and my family has been greatly affected."
"Sonny said as much. But how does this take him down?"
"Well, we don't know what happened to Esme, but we do know Sonny's had it out for her. I don't think it would be much of a stretch to implicate him in this…"
Dex paused, figuring out what to say. Michael was nothing if not determined and zealous, even if his aspirations were a bit shortsighted. Dex thought back to the Wyndemere beach, Ava's fingers digging into his skin as they both found Esme's body, his mouth remaining shut. Dex held the letter tightly between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes on the document as Michael's voice melted into white noise.
There is a vast world beyond this compound. We reside in the Venice of the North as hostages now, but one day, we'll reside there as if we were natives. We'll be the family you so very much deserve, and we won't know what fear is anymore. One of these days we won't be dragged under the water while gasping for air.
It'll all happen one day soon. If I could, I'd make it today. But for today, and the days that exist in the nearest future, we have each other, and that's more than enough to keep us afloat.
With love,
Mother
"Dex?" Michael's voice boomed into the phone. The silence on the other end unnerved him, and his grip on the device tightened.
"...What?" Dex's voice was hoarse.
"Did you hear anything I just said?"
"You said something about implicating Sonny."
"Right, and then I said that our next move is to go to the PCPD and claim Sonny had a hand in Esme's disappearance."
"...I don't think that'll work."
"I didn't ask for your opinion."
"Michael," Dex's voice was stern, "what evidence do you have to put Sonny behind bars for this?"
"You," Michael sighed, a hand on his hip, "You're going down to the station tomorrow and telling Commissioner Ashford that Sonny had Esme killed."
"With what evidence? Commissioner Ashford knows I work for Sonny. She could easily have me arrested for it."
"You won't be. You'll tell her that Sonny mentioned it in a phone call."
"It's not gonna work. The PCPD will want evidence and we don't have any."
"Come on, Dex. You have to know something about it."
There was a long pause from Dex's end, and Michael raised an eyebrow at the apparent hesitation, "...I don't know what happened to Esme. I just know that Sonny helped get rid of her after the fact."
"Well, you were at Wyndemere, right? Maybe Nikolas and Ava can back us up."
"Ava isn't going to throw me or Sonny under the bus."
"But Nikolas could."
"Michael?" Brando stood a foot or two away, holding the door to the Port Charles Grill open with one hand. He was dressed in a navy blue suit, meshing well with Michael's black one.
"I'll call you back," Michael said, quickly hanging up. Brando raised an eyebrow as Michael approached him, "Sorry about that, didn't expect the call to be that long."
"What was it about?"
"Business."
"Is everything okay?"
"...Yeah, yeah. Everything's fine," Michael's face pinched slightly, "Let's go in and get this over with."
Michael and Brando took their seats at a table in the corner, the fireplace nearby. Sonny's back was to it, his eyes scanning the menu. Michael took the seat across from his father, and Brando sat between them, the mahogany wall behind him.
"Glad you could join me," Sonny said, still looking at the menu.
"Might as well, right?" Michael sighed. Brando bit his lip in response.
"This talk is long overdue," Sonny pursed his lips, his eyes on his son. Brando glanced between them, a drop of sweat appearing on his forehead. He wasn't sure if it was from the fireplace or the tension.
"Shouldn't you be at home with Sasha and Gladys?" Michael asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I agreed to be a mediator. And I'm giving Sasha some space."
"I want things between us to be resolved," Sonny said, "You're my son; I don't want us to have any issues."
"We wouldn't have any issues if you didn't cheat on Mom with Nina."
"Your mom didn't want to talk things out."
"She wanted some time to think. That's not the same."
"This wasn't something to wait on. I loved your mother, I wanted to stay in the marriage with her."
"And yet you cheated on her with Nina! With Nina!"
"And your mother was going to cheat on me with Jason."
Michael bit his lip. He looked between Brando and Sonny before looking down at his menu. The three men sat in silence, only speaking up to give the waiter their respective orders.
"So…" Brando spoke up, looking at his relatives, "where did we leave off?"
"...She didn't know you were alive," Michael said with a firm softness.
"Doesn't make a difference."
"It does. My mom didn't know you were alive when she married Jason, and I'd like to add that their marriage was one of convenience."
"What does that-" Brando began before the sound of Sonny's hand smacking the table startled him.
"What you don't seem to understand is that, convenient or not, your mother was going to willingly marry another man."
"And you willingly slept with another woman."
"I wouldn't have done it if-"
"If what?" Michael snapped, "If Mom talked with you on your time? We don't have to do things when you tell us to, Dad. We don't run on your timetable."
"I didn't think it was a good idea to put a discussion off."
"And Mom thought the opposite. You didn't like that, so you went off and cheated on her with Nina."
"...I feel like we're talking in circles," Brando said as the waiter delivered their food. They ate in silence before Michael's phone buzzed on the table. Michael swiftly grabbed the device, a text appearing on the lock screen.
From: Dex (8:26 PM)
I don't think your plan is going to work.
We need to come up with something else.
"Everything okay?" Sonny asked.
"It's none of your business."
"Michael," Brando said sternly.
"Why can't you tell me?" Sonny asked, his voice raised slightly, "Is it Wiley, or Willow, or Car-"
"Don't you dare say my mother's name."
"Michael-"
"No, no," Michael shot up from the table, pocketing his phone, "I think we're done here."
"Michael," Brando stood up, putting a hand on his cousin's shoulder, "we're here to make amends and you're freaking out about a text. What's going on?"
Michael shot Brando a glare. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket in intervals, but remained still. Soon enough, he pushed his chair back and stepped away from the table, "Like I said, it's none of your business, and I don't think I'm in any position to make nice with you."
"Michael-" Sonny called out as Michael exited the restaurant. He exchanged a look with Brando and sighed, going back to his meal. The men ate in silence, their thoughts resting with Michael for the rest of the evening.
"He wanted to do what?"
Dex stifled a laugh, sitting cross-legged on the bed. He exchanged one letter for another, rubbing the folded paper with his thumb, "He really wants to take Sonny down."
"You'd think he'd be smarter about it."
"Well, you haven't talked with him as much as I have. I tried calling him to talk about it more, but he didn't pick up."
"How is throwing you in jail beneficial to him?" the man asked, "He loses his plant, which means I lose my plant through him."
"You're so considerate," Dex said, a smirk on his face.
"I'm just saying, Dex. You going to jail wouldn't be ideal for anyone."
"Uh huh."
"Is he going to call you back?"
"Who knows," Dex sighed, opening the second letter.
My Dear Dexter,
Regretfully, this is the last letter I'll be writing to you. I thought that we'd be able to make our circumstances manageable. I thought we wouldn't have to go our separate ways so early, but our circumstances have turned dangerous.
Your father will take good care of you. While he's had less time with you, his love for you is infinite. His life is as storied as mine, and his skills are vast. I have all the faith in the world that he'll keep you safe. I want nothing more than for you to live a wonderful life, and I wish I could live that life with you.
"Why couldn't you?" Dex muttered, his gaze dark as he read the letter.
"Why couldn't I what?" the man asked.
"What?"
"You asked me why I couldn't do something."
"It wasn't meant for you."
"...You're reading another letter, aren't you?" the man asked, his tone laced with smug curiosity, "Her last one?"
"Yeah. I can't not read them, y'know?"
"I get it. Twenty years for me feels like yesterday for you."
"I don't think about it all that much…"
"Mhm, sure."
"Whatever," Dex rolled his eyes, looking back down at the letter.
I'm not sure what the future holds for either of us. What I am sure of is that you can't be stuck in this environment any longer. It's not just the suffocating nature of the place we have to call home; it's the fact that this "home" is no longer safe. I can survive well enough on my own, but you're such a young child. As much as I want to keep you with me, being selfish like that would cost you your life. I couldn't live with myself if that happened.
My life has been full of chaos and noise; you came to me when it was quiet. Should we never meet again, I want you to know that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you.
"...Hey," Dex spoke up, looking down at his phone. It was perched on his knee.
"What?"
"Are you sure you can't tell what happened back then?"
"It's been so long since what happened," the man said sternly, "It's not worth talking about."
"Why not? I can handle it-"
"I don't like to think about it."
"But-"
"Dexter."
Dex bit his lip, sighing in defeat. His eyes darted around the hotel room as the gentle hum of static rang in his ear. A part of him wanted to push further for answers, to go beyond what was written in the aged letters. Another part of him knew that pushing further would only lead to trouble.
"So," the man spoke up, "back to Michael. How did he think he was going to implicate you?"
"He figured the Cassadines would give me up."
"Do you think they would?"
"Ava wouldn't."
"How can you be sure of that?"
Dex paused, thinking back to Wyndemere again. The image of Esme's impaled body flashed in his head, along with the vice-grip Ava held his arm in. Their discussion sat with him, and he racked his brain over it, nitpicking the details of it all.
Sonny knows what happened, Ava's voice rang in his ears, still as soft as it was when they stood on the shore. Shame colored her demeanor, and he recalled how she refused to look at him. She was a scared child who stood before him, nervous and hesitant to divulge what led to a young girl's death among the rocks.
Sonny knows what happened, Dex thought to himself, and maybe I do too.
"Dex?" the man asked, "Don't tell me I lost you again."
"You didn't," Dex replied, "and don't worry about Ava. There's no way she'll give me up; I'll make sure of it."
A/N: (According to online translations)
"Du bist so ein Klugscheißer" - You're such a smartass
"Das ist deine Schuld" - That's your fault