He has never been much of a talker. In fact, people complain because he doesn't speak his mind, but months of not saying a word, not being able to say a word, stuck in solitary confinement, his only guest being his tormentor, leaves him wanting to talk. He wants to open his mouth and communicate so bad. Let out the rage and the regret, say the things he should have said when he had the chance. But inside this iron mask, fitted with a straw so he can drink his daily slush and stay alive for more torment, his jaw aches with all he is holding back.

He normally doesn't think about what ifs. What ifs don't help. Why care about what has already happened when you can't go back and redo them? But stuck in this perpetual twilight where time seems to stand still, he has had too much time to think. Too much time to stick to just strategizing.

Does she know he loves her?

Wrong question.

Does she know how much he loves her?

Does she know that she is his only regret in a lifetime of mistakes and bad decisions?

Does she know that she is the only reason he is still alive?

Seeing her, one day, is the only reason he still sucks and swallows the tasteless slush dumped into the container in his cell.

She is also the only reason his tormentor is still feeding him, hadn't killed him.

Sonny.

Once upon a time that name meant, brother. Friend. Mentor.

Now? All it means is pain. Hatred. Malice. Insanity.

He visits him. He doesn't know how often. He hasn't recognized a pattern. He has no idea how long he has been there.

He hears the scraping of the top gate.

"Visiting hours!" Sonny's jovial voice rings out in the hallway.

He makes his way over to the cell. Two minions guards accompanying him, as usual.

They open the large iron gate.

He wonders why they even have the gate. He is changed to the wall with thick, medieval style chains, he is wearing an iron mask that rounds his entire head, he is barely kept alive by whatever that grey slush is that they feed him.

He peers through the eye holes at Sonny's preening form.

"You know, Jason, there is no one quite like Carly in bed. She's like a hungry animal. Oh wait? What am I saying? You probably don't know. Well, let me tell you…" he crouches down to be able to look Jason in the eye, "she's unsatiable, that one. I don't even think she remembers you. Much."

He stands up again, pacing like he owns the place (though, he does)

.

"Did you really think she would end up with you?"

"No." he answers in his mind. But they thought Sonny was dead. They didn't do anything wrong. Well, she didn't. He did. He stepped back. Out of misplaced loyalty to a man that he is starting to think, is certifiably insane. Not bi-polar insane. Really insane. And then he ran, like he always does when his heart is on the line. He can spin it any way he wants.

Did he feel guilty about hurting Britt? Yes

Did he feel like he could make it up to her by finding her mother? Yes.

Was he happy to have another excuse in the form of saving Drew, to not face his demons and fears? Yes

But did he run because not being with Carly when he allowed himself to have that dream was too much to bear? Yes, again. He ran, and that is why he is not with her right now. That is why he is not able to touch her, or see her, or keep her safe.

So many regrets.

"Now what do you think about that?" Sonny is suddenly sneering an inch from his face. He realises that he had lost half of the information Sonny was so enthusiastic to impart to him.

"Oh, right." Sonny answers himself, "It doesn't matter."

He straightens, satisfied. As he swaggers out the door, his voices reverberate against the walls.

"Visiting hours are over!"

He says it every time.

The one guard heads over to him.

"Hey man, what are you doing?" the other one asks, his fearful eyes bouncing between his co-worker and his boss above the facemask he is wearing.

The other one turns back to him, as if surprised.

"Don't you check his bonds before you go? Standard practice where I come from."

The other guy looks sufficiently chastised.

As the new guard hangs over him, he speaks, softly.

"He's lying you know."

Drew?

"Carly divorced him month's ago. She spends her nights with me, on your bridge, talking about you. I'm going to need tools next time. And back up. Just a little while longer. You're coming home."

He straightens, squeezing his shoulder as he does so.

Jason wants to speak.

He wants to say… something… anything… like thank you, or I hear you, or tell her I love her, but he is stuck. But he is stuck with his cheeks turning wet and his jaw aching in a whole new way as his cheeks pull in an upward motion.

As they pull the large iron gate closed, Drew winks at him.

He winks back, with effort.

And then it is back to the perpetual twilight. Is it his imagination or does the twilight seem less oppressive? The slush more nourishing?

He heaves himself onto his feet.

He is weak.

They may have to make a run for it.

He needs to be ready.

Slowly he starts walking on the spot.

His aching leg muscles protests with every step.


He's been getting stronger.

Maybe it is the will to fight that he had gotten back, or the hope of looking into her eyes, or the fact that he has steadily upped his slush. The guards just fill it whenever it is empty, too dumb to question why its going much faster. Maybe it's the exercise he had been doing, like he did, in the beginning before he had lost hope, started marinating in memories and regrets and longing.

The chains are convenient for pull ups. Strongly anchored in the wall in a way that left him feeling helpless before, but a lifeline to get stronger again right now, taking his full weight without even a budge.

He has no idea what clothes he is wearing, but they feel loose, and he hopes that they will disguise his less emaciated state.

He has no idea how long it has been but he sits down in his usual heap as soon as he hears the scraping of the gate up the hallway.

"Visiting hours!" Sonny's voice reverberates again.

This time it doesn't fill him with dread.

He looks up as the iron gate is pulled open. The one guard looks down, the other catches his eye. He winks. The other guard shifts on his feet.

Jason wonders who the back-up can be.

A third guard enters.

This is new.

He is holding a chair.

He places it.

Sonny's sits down as if it's a thrown.

He realizes Sonny has been talking. Something about Carly and morning sickness.

The smaller guard's head shoots up.

Drew gives him a look.

He looks down.

"She's so happy." Sonny drawls on. "I think she's finally over losing you."

Jason frowns. Sonny's ramblings doesn't make sense from story to story.

"Well." Sonny says, his hands on his thighs before he stands up. "I have enjoyed our visit, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to see you a bit less, you know, with the pregnancy and everything."

As he walks out, he shouts again.

"Visiting hours are over."

The smaller guard looks at Drew.

"Go on, check his bonds like I taught you."

He walks over, hangs over him. And then it dawns on him.

He is simultaneously elated and furious at the same time.

He is going to kill Drew.

And Carly.

But mostly Drew.

He breathes in her scent as she hangs over him, fiddling with his mask. The next minute he hears a thud. The third guard's head lolling close to his feet.

Drew immediately starts pulling at the guy's shoes.

A smell wafts through the cell.

"Oh God!" Carly gags above him, then looks into his eyes. He feels breathless just looking at her. "Don't worry, I thought about that, I brought you clean socks."

The next minute he hears a clink and there is a sudden cold rush on his skin as she pulls the mask away from him.

He has no idea what he looks like, but the pain in her eyes gives him some indication. Her eyes fill with tears, and he finds that his are spilling over as well. Slowly he unlocks his jaw, try to force his mouth open for the straw to come out. As soon as its out she has her arms around him. He buries his face in her hair, breathes in.

Gratitude. It fills him down to his baby toe.

"Hey!" Drew taps on her back. "Later. We need to get out of here."

Carly nods, sniffs, smiles at him, cradles his cheek for a second then gathers herself.

Drew has started on the chains holding him to the wall, and as soon as his arms are free, he gets up, grateful that he had time to strengthen himself. Carly pulls his shirt over his head, throws it at Drew who counters by throwing her the guards T-shirt. He dutifully holds his arms up for her to pull it over his head. When it comes to his pants, the same procedure is followed.

Soon, he is pulling on the guy's beanie and facemask while Drew and Carly is placing the mask and shackles on the guard.

They both stand back, Carly grabbing Jason's hand.

"I'd say, no one will know the difference." Drew remarks.

Carly pulls her hand back, puts her glove back on. It dawns on Jason that everything that could give away that she is a woman is covered, that is why he didn't realise at first. He also realises that is why she kept looking down. She knows, eye contact, just once, and he would have known, and only with his eyes on display, something would have shown.

She pulls herself up right, positions her gun in the right position and they exit, Drew closing the iron gate.

He walks, slowly, upright, like a soldier, through the hallway, up the stairs. He keeps his famous stone-cold stare. Inside him everything is rejoicing.

Only once they have made it away from the building, gotten in the car, starting driving, do Carly relax, hand the gun over to Drew and pull her beanie and facemask off.

He loses his breath looking at her face again for the first time in months.

He pulls his own beanie and face mask off, all while not able to take his eyes off of hers.

Carly sniffs as another tear makes its way down her cheek.

"I missed you so much!" she exclaims as she throws her arms around him.

"I… mished-tu." He grounds out between his locked jaw and with a voice that has forgotten how to work.

She pulls back to cradle his face.

"Monica and Bobby are waiting at the safe house. They'll be able to help you get better." She answers him as she massages the sides of his face before dropping her forehead against his.

He pulls back slightly, remembering his brother.

"Ank-u." he tells him.

"I owed you, man." Drew shrugs, smiling. His eyes are looking decidedly moist.


Getting to the safe house is like going on a parade.

Monica, Bobby and Spinelli are all ready with hugs and tears.

"Mom! Monica!" Carly calls at them to get their attention, physically dragging them 2 feet away from Jason.

"His jaw is locked. Can you help?"

Monica heads over to him, starts feeling at his jaw.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't tell. You were smiling a bit. And you usually don't say much." She apologizes. There it is again.

Jason is sure no experience will ever bless him with the gift of the gab, but he feels a very specific desire to speak. About anything and nothing. Just to use his vocal cords to make intelligible sounds.

Bobby joins Monica in the face feeling exercise.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Bobby asks.

Monica looks at her.

"Botox?"

Jason's eyebrows shoot up in alarm.

Monica and Bobby walks over to the door.

"Will the driver listen to us?" Bobby asks.

"I told him to." Carly shrugs.

"Botox?" Spinelli asks.

Carly shrugs.

"It's like a kind of muscle relaxant I suppose…"

When she pulls him over to the couch and leans against him, entertaining their hands, he decides that nothing matters. If it takes Botox to open his mouth, then so be it.

He has important things he needs to say to her.


Carly has been talking non-stop, filling him in on the last few months, losing him, trying to pretend with Sonny, the whole Nina thing, how Kevin helped her see that she was using the Nina situation to pull away from Sonny without feeling guilty about not being in love with him anymore, Drew being a shoulder to cry on, telling him how he needs to get to know his brother this time, the situation she had to deal with with Josh and how she chose not to be self-destructive knowing it was the only way she could honor him.

He has never wanted so badly to be able to speak back, answer her, tell her how proud he is of her, how sorry he is for everything she went through, how much he missed her.

And in usual Carly fashion she knows what he wants to say, interrupting herself to say things, like, No, it's not your fault, and I know you're proud of me and I know you missed me too.

He has never loved her as much as he loves her in this moment. All he can do is intertwine his fingers a little more with hers. She pushes her face into his neck, he awkwardly hugs her back with just his head as they sit side my side.

"I love you too Jase." She answers.

A smile tugs at his mouth.

As much as he wants to talk to her, he knows he doesn't even need to.

Their moment is interrupted as Bobby and Monica enter, babbling about diagrams, and hitting the right muscle as they start unpacking a kit with several syringes.

"We'll start with 20 units on each side in the masseters and then see from there." Bobby states, lost in thought.

As they approach Jason, Monica smiles at her son.

"This will definitely work, but it will take a while to kick in."

He nods.

Carly gets up to stand in front of him to allow their mothers' better access to him.

Jason is surprised to find that he doesn't even feel the needles as they work. Monica had assured him that the needles used are extremely thin and to not be surprised if he barely feels it. It's still disconcerting.

When they're done, Carly takes the bag that the driver brought in, holds it out to him.

"Blue jean, black T shirt, shoes, socks and a brand new jacket. Sorry. I know you hate wearing in a new jacket."

He takes the bag, then pulls her in for a hug. When she draws back, their hands slide into each other, and he follows her as she walks through to the next room.

"I packed my own shower gel and stuff cause you don't really care what kind you use." She states as she hands him her toiletry bag and a big fluffy towel.

"Go…" she motions him toward the shower, "I don't like hugging you when you smell like traitor guard." She jokes. He looks back and gives her a tiny smile before heading to the bathroom.


After a warm shower, smelling like Carly and slowly starting to shave at the matted beard that he had grown inside the mask, he suddenly notices that he had pulled his mouth open as he was concentrating on the left cheek.

He abandons the shaving exercise in favour of pulling faces in the mirror. With satisfaction he sees and feels that his mouth is opening and closing almost in its normal fashion.

He finishes shaving, this time rushed along by the prospect of having a conversation with the woman he had so many imaginary conversations with in the solitude of the perpetual twilight.

He exits the bathroom, the guard's clothes bunched up in his hand. He has no idea what to do with it, but he will be happy if he never sees it again. He feels like himself again. His usual black t-shirt is not quite as snug as he is used to, but not as lose as he feared. He is still standing undecided in the middle of the room when the door opens and Carly makes an excited noise at seeing him looking like himself again.

She rushes over to hug him, but this time he stops her with his arm, keeping her at arm's length as he looks into her eyes.

He clears his scratchy throat.

"I missed you." He finally gets out.

Carly smiles.

"Of course, you did." She answers smartly, smiling from ear to ear.

He relaxes his arm to feel her body collide with his. He melts into her, buries his face in her hair.

"I have so much I need to say to you." He murmurs into her hair.

"We have time." She answers, then pulls back to cradle his face. "Time!" she repeats happily.

"We thought we had time so many times, Carly." He reminds her.

Her smile turns a little sad. "Yeah…. But I have my best friend back and everything is right in the world again."

"No." Jason answers, shaking his head, "I'm done Carly."

"Done?" she answers, a fearful note creeping into her voice.

"I'm not your best friend. Olivia is your best friend, or Sam or maybe even Drew from what you have been telling me, I can't be that anymore."

"Jase, what are you…" Carly is close to tears.

Jason knows he is messing up. Words have never been his friend. For months all he wished was to speak to her and now he is going about it all wrong. He is desperate to get his point across. He gives up on using words.

Instead, he pulls her to him, more roughly than he intended, catches her lips with his.

Everything inside him is tense as she freezes against his lips before melting against him, snaking her arms around his neck.

When he finally pulls back, breathless, Carly whispers against his lips.

"You'll always be my best friend, my rock, loving you is my life. Being in love with you doesn't take away from that."

"I love you." He whispers, "I couldn't stop if I tried. And I can't go back to pretending. That's… that's what I meant when I said I'm done." He haphazardly tries to fix his earlier blunder. "I'm not good with words." Then it dawns on him, the words he need to say to make it clear, the way Carly did so many years ago, the distinction she needs to believe.

He pulls back slightly, to look into her eyes.

"Carly, I'm in love with you."

He sees as his words sink in.

He found them. The words she needed to understand what he is saying.

"Really?" she asks.

It blows his mind that she doesn't know it yet.

"Yes, really, I thought you knew."

"You just said I love you, you've said that to me over and over through the years, I thought you meant…"

Jason silences her with his lips.

He has never been much of a talker. In fact, people complain because he doesn't speak his mind, but today he realizes that he speaks much better without words. As he manoeuvres Carly's body backward until her legs hit the side of the bed, he resolves to tell her everything in his heart, without using a word.