Vacuus a Animus

by suerum

This is an AU Jaspin story. Port Charles has been over run with vampires and Jason and Spinelli are part of a group trying to survive in this new world.

3. Then: Halcyon Days

Vacuus a Animus

A/N: I have no rights or affiliation with the characters presented within this piece

Then: Halcyon Days

Jason watched detachedly as the waterfront of Port Charles burned. He looked deep down inside himself and found that, except for some concern about the safety of his men, he didn't give a crap about this mob war that seemed to have been raging forever. He knew Sonny was down there directing Jason's team. He would be wearing a smile that didn't quite reach to his eyes and be burning internally with a cold elation. Jason had no doubt that not only would he keep or reclaim any threatened territory, he actually would end up adding many of the Russian holdings to his newly recovered business concern

It was likely that Sonny would combine the dedicated adherents whom he had enticed to join him in the Zacchara company with the men loyal to Jason to create an unstoppable group of seasoned fighters. Tonight and the succeeding days would present nothing but unparalleled opportunity for Sonny's renowned thirst for power. Before the week was out, he would have entirely routed the Russians from Port Charles.

Sonny would then more than likely turn his attention to his erstwhile place holding organization-the Zacchara family. Jason wondered idly how he would deal with the newest Mrs. Corinthos, she who was formerly Claudia Zacchara. Having to allow input about a business situation from one of his wives certainly wasn't a situation that Sonny had ever faced before. Yet, Jason knew that Sonny would probably set his dimpled charm to work and win her over to his way of thinking.

He and Claudia would turn against wily old Anthony Zacchara who usually was the one person capable of holding his own against Sonny. Not this time though, Jason knew it as truly as if the events had already unfolded in real time not merely as something he was envisioning tonight.

Sonny would be on top of the world, back in his element, fired up by beating the Russians down. He would be in a word-unstoppable. The Zacchara operation would be folded into the Corinthos organization without any visible strain. Finally, Sonny would have achieved his long cherished ambition that of becoming the most powerful mob boss on the eastern seaboard.

Jason rested his elbows on the roof parapet and cradled his head in his hands, tired beyond belief. He didn't know exactly when it happened, when he had parted company from Sonny and his goals. For what seemed the longest time, from when he had been a young, angry, amnesiac man of eighteen, Sonny had been Jason's one and only hero. Anything Sonny had thought, proposed, or done had been gospel in Jason's world. He would do anything for him-risking his life, ignoring his own desires, casting off his family-the list of sacrifices was endless. He had never counted a single one. Sonny was his mentor, his family and Jason had let nothing stand in the way of that.

Sonny in his turn, especially in the early days, had taken Jason under his protection and even into his heart. The two had been partners, friends, family and nothing and no one could ever seem to permanently sever those ties.

Yet, over the years, Jason had grown into his manhood and he wasn't a clone of Sonny. He cared nothing for power or its trappings. His money lay in a variety of secure overseas bank accounts accruing interest because his material wants were almost nonexistent. While Sonny was emotional, flamboyant and talkative there was Jason logical, controlled and taciturn to an unreal degree.

Their differences were what made them such an effective team. Sonny took risks and stretched his resources and was rewarded by expansion and growth in his organization. Jason carried out his orders but had the right to offer counsel and often acted as a brake when Sonny overreached.

Somewhere along the way the problems in the relationship began to out weigh the benefits. Sonny became more and more egotistical and dictatorial. His decisions and choices began to negatively affect those around him, including Jason. He brooked no opposition and he often treated Jason and his ideas and plans with disdain. In the past, Jason had always accepted Sonny's word as immutable law but that began to change.

One of the largest shifts in their friendship occurred when Sonny became involved with Jason's beloved younger sister Emily. Jason was horrified at the inappropriate relationship and the fact that it put Emily at risk. For the first time he rebelled at a choice of Sonny's. He actively sought to take the organization away from Sonny in order to blackmail him into giving up Emily. Sonny and Emily eventually did break up while Jason and Sonny made up. Their new association was fragile though, like a piece of porcelain that once fractured and glued back together still possesses crack lines that can shatter under stress.

Sonny and Jason were linked together in partnership for several more years, with an ever growing social distance separating them in their private lives. Jason had secrets in his

personal life and it was now Spinelli, not Sonny, who was privy to them.

Over the past two years, Damian Spinelli had come to occupy a similar position in Jason's life that he had once held in Sonny's. He was his protégé and Jason was now in the mentoring position. This newly minted relationship had aroused jealously in Sonny as he blamed Spinelli for taking Jason away from him.

In reality, the two relationships were quite dissimilar. Spinelli and Jason's bond was based much more on mutual respect and choice. Spinelli did indeed hero worship Jason but he also grounded him. Jason needed and used Spinelli's computer skills. Yet, it was his intelligence, his ability to understand people, and his compassion that really provoked Jason's admiration. He worked hard at trying to get Spinelli to see what a valuable person he was, a task often confounded by Spinelli's low self esteem.

Spinelli was aware that Jason had opened his life up in a positive way, something that people on the exterior couldn't appreciate. While it was true he worked on the wrong side of the law and because of that was sometimes in peril, he felt that he had gained so much in return. He had friends, a job that he was skilled at and most precious of all, Jason had become his family. They were a strange duo but they complemented one another and together were better than they were apart.

Less than a year ago, Sonny had signed the organization over to Jason in order to try and get out of the mob and lead a normal life. Being in charge, running the operation was the last thing Jason wanted to do but he agreed. Once he took it over he ran it differently than Sonny would have. He was more methodical, low key and hands on.

Sonny was unable to resist giving Jason advice. He was bored with the straight and narrow and wanted a foot each set squarely in both the respectable and illegitimate worlds of Port Charles. Jason stood up to him and refused him entry back into the organization, even in an advisory capacity. The hurt and anger Sonny felt when Jason rejected his offer of involvement and counsel further strained the remnants of their relationship. Yet, it still held-just barely.

That was until Sonny went rogue after the shooting of his fiancée Kate, while she stood at the altar. He was as reckless and mercurial as ever, riding an emotional wave of hatred, anger and most of all impotence since he lacked the power to initiate a large scale retaliation. He went to Jason and asked him, almost begging, to take out the Russians whom he was convinced were guilty of the shooting. Jason refused Sonny, saying that there was no proof and he wasn't going to act on supposition and end up initiating a full scale mob war. The end result was that Sonny went out on his own, making an alliance with the Zaccharas and antagonizing the Russians.

Jason fully believed that the inferno burning tonight on the Port Charles docks was a direct result of Sonny's irresponsible and recklessly self-centered actions. Perhaps it was fitting that he cleaned up the mess he had created. Either way, as far as Jason was concerned, Sonny was dead to him. Most unforgivable in Jason's eyes was that as a consequence of the events Sonny had set in motion-Spinelli was downstairs fighting for his very life.

Jason did not believe that a bullet wound was a badge of honor, something to show that you were a man of action. He had his fair share of them and all they ever resulted in were pain and scars. He had never intended for a bullet to enter Spinelli's body, he would have died to prevent it. So, if Sonny ever again crossed his path and caused him or anyone he cared about harm, Jason would kill him.

Jason hated being in a situation in which there was no action to take, where the only thing he could do was wait. With nothing to occupy him but his thoughts, he dwelt on the multitude of wrong choices he had made in his life which had placed him on this roof waiting to hear word of his brother's mortality. He looked at his watch and grew anxious. It had been over five hours since Spinelli had been taken to surgery. Surely, there should be some news by now.

He was heading down to see if they had been looking for him when he saw the blonde nurse-Nadine Crowell, coming up the stairs towards the roof. They spoke simultaneously.

"There you are. They said they you might be up here."

"Spinelli, how is he?"

Nadine smiled at him and said in her plain spoken way, "He made it through the surgery and he's just coming out of recovery. He should be in the ICU by the time we get downstairs."

"He's going to be okay though?"

She gave the appropriate non-responsive nurse answer of "Dr. Drake will give you his prognosis."

Jason couldn't wait any longer and started bounding down the stairs, leaving Nadine to follow as best she could. He skidded to the door of the ICU just as Spinelli was being moved from a gurney into a bed. He was still unconscious and looked as pale as the last time Jason had seen him. He was no longer on a ventilator but was on oxygen. He had several bags of i.v. fluids attached to both arms, the only substance Jason could identify with certainty was blood. A variety of machines were connected to him and they flickered, whirred and hummed as they worked to monitor his condition.

Jason turned impatiently to Patrick Drake who was making notations in Spinelli's chart. "Well, how did it go? Is he going to be all right?"

Patrick looked up wearily and answered somberly, "He had a rough go of it during the surgery." He rubbed his hand across his forehead at the memory of those moments where Spinelli had been lost. "His heart stopped beating again and for a while it looked like…well, we got it started again."

Jason looked worriedly over at Spinelli's recumbent form, "That's good right? He'll be fine with some rest…"

Patrick nodded slowly, "That is what we would like to see happen. The celiac artery in the abdomen was severed by the bullet and there was a lot of blood loss as you know. We are concerned that some of the tissues and even the heart were without oxygen for an extended period which can cause complications."

He paused and then continued, "The good news is that we extracted the bullet and by some miracle it didn't cause much damage to any organs or especially the spinal cord. So, now we keep him quiet and on pain medication and hope for the best."

"I'm staying with him," Jason made it clear that he wasn't asking, he was telling.

Patrick gave him a wry smile, "That's exactly what Robin told me you would say. She said that she was sorry she couldn't be here but that she needed to get home to Emma. She'll see you tomo…later today. Call us if you are worried about anything."

"Thank you for helping him, Patrick. Will you give Robin my love? Tell her I couldn't have made it through tonight without her."

Patrick nodded tiredly and sketched a wave at Jason as he left the room. Nadine and another nurse came in to check Spinelli's vitals and make sure that all the equipment was performing properly. They left and then it was just the two of them.

Sighing, Jason pulled a chair over close to the bed. He had thought that perhaps he would never again see a living breathing Spinelli and he was inexpressibly grateful to have this chance to be near him.

He looked down at his unconscious brother, "You scared me, don't do that again. I…I don't know what I would do without you around." He stopped, thinking, "Yeah, without you bugging me all the time-talking and talking about all kinds of stuff, half of it I've never even heard about and the other half I don't care about."

He gave a short laugh, "I'd do anything if you'd wake up and say 'Stone Cold' and just start rattling off about things-destiny or friendship or love or learning how to shoot. Absolutely anything would be good…" There was no response from the still figure in the bed. Jason picked up his hand, happy to feel its warmth, the pulse in the wrist. "Well, maybe later," he said gently, as he settled down to wait.

The haggard workers who manned the mysterious and dark freighter which had maneuvered in under cover of night, worked quickly and quietly to off load its fearsome cargo. They didn't know what they had been carrying up the coast from Mexico and they didn't want to know.

The freighter had started its journey with a crew complement of twenty-one men. Tonight there were four left to unload the small freight of three medium sized packing boxes. If asked, the remaining men would have not been able to say what had happened to their shipmates. They only knew that they had disappeared one by one over the ten days the ship had been at sea, and always at night. They had found absolutely no trace of the missing crew-not their bodies or their personal possessions-it was as though they had all vanished into the depths of the ocean.

The remaining men were petrified and exhausted. They had slept poorly and their dreams had been filled with strange portents and omens including visions of a blood red moon, howling wolves and sinister dark faced shapes that caused them to shiver in their sleep. When they met for meals or on watch duty, they discussed their dreams in terror filled whispers. It astonished them to find that not only were they all dreaming the exact same images they were doing so at precisely the same time. This was proven by the fact that when they jerked awake as the nightmares became too intense to endure, their watches and clock faces all showed the same hour-midnight.

The crew loaded the three crates into a waiting launch that had crept up beside their ship when they docked. The men watched in a daze as the sleek boat turned and sped away. They could not believe the living nightmare was over and that they had survived. As one, they turned away from the floating graveyard that had been their gruesome prison as they traveled to Port Charles. By nights end three out of the four crewmen would be dead, causalities of the violence that ran rampant through the city docks.

The remaining sailor would wake up with a fractured skull in the hospital. His memory of recent events would be impaired and for the rest of his life he would suffer from insomnia and unspeakable night terrors. One day he would disappear from his home far from the sea he hated, never to be seen again.

The launch sped swiftly across the harbor aiming for the dark shape of Spoon Island. It was a large rocky outcrop-windswept and inhospitable. Brooding over it, looking as though it might tumble into the sea at any moment, was a huge rambling mess of a Victorian mansion called Windermere. The island was only accessible by boat. The island and the house were both the property of Nicholas Cassidine, scion of the Cassadine empire and an actual full blooded Russian prince.

The Cassadines were minor nobility that had fled Russian during the Bolshevik uprising. The family had relocated to Greece where they had reversed the trend of so many other White Russians by becoming obscenely rich with interests in shipping, land, and mining.

The family was known as the Greek Medici's for all their nefarious behavior. They were arrogantly above the law, able to use their money and influence to silence any opposition. Cassadines had been accused of every possible crime ranging from property theft to rape to kidnapping to out and out murder and torture. Not once, not for a day or even an hour, had any member of the clan spent time in a jail cell or a courtroom. No investigation ever got that far. Witnesses and plaintiffs were paid off or developed faulty memories or simply disappeared.

Nicholas Cassadine represented the modern reformation of his family name. He had politeness ingrained in every molecule of his being but, unlike his predecessors, it was also combined with compassion and sensitivity. His ancestors frequently rolled over in their mausoleums and ground their skeletal teeth in frustration as their descendant spent huge amounts of their ill gotten lucre on one charitable outpouring after another. A free clinic, a new hospital wing, a youth center, the list of endowments was long and venerable. The name of Cassadine engendered respect and admiration within the city of Port Charles, a fact that would astound the Greek residents of several privately owned islands.

Tonight, while Nicholas and his young son Spencer slept peacefully, his trusted and elderly butler Alfred stood on the island dock eagerly awaiting the crates carried by the launch. From Nicholas' perspective Alfred had seemed to fall into his life magically just when he most needed a personal retainer who was loyal, discreet, and competent. Over the years Alfred had evolved from being a trusted employee to an honorary family member. Nicholas had difficulty remembering his life sans Alfred.

Alfred had genuine affection for both Nicholas and his son. He regretted that his actions tonight would more than likely eventually end in both their deaths but such things occurred in the service of his true Master. Alfred had chosen Nicholas as his employer all those years ago because of the resources he could offer him. While Nicholas had thought that Alfred was simply making both his home and life run more smoothly than it had ever done before, in truth Alfred was inserting himself into his employer's world and confidence in order to achieve his own goals.

Tonight was the culmination of years of planning and effort on Alfred's part. He was a man little given to shows of emotion but internally he was joyous. He had done it! He had managed to find the one place on Earth that would be an appropriate residence for his dark Master-he whom Alfred had served since he was a boy as had his father and grandfather each before him. Alfred came from a long line of servitors, they simply preferred to attend their lords in the dark. Light needed to be balanced by dark and it was Alfred's destiny, and indeed privilege, to serve he who was darkest of all.

Lately though, he had been feeling aged and had worried that he might die before his life's task was complete, but tonight was the proof that he had succeeded. His blood fizzled through his veins like fine wine. He felt like a young man again-elated and able to take on the world and win. Now whatever happened to him was irrelevant, his Master had a new kingdom, a new beginning and he, Alfred, had made it happen. It wasn't often that a man could come face to face with the realization that he had attained the exact achievement he had been created for-he was fortunate indeed.

The launch pulled soundlessly up to the pier and the two large, not overly bright, men he had hired for the evening proceeded to unload the three crates. Alfred was almost dancing with excitement as he exhorted them to be careful, "Those boxes contain very fragile, very old and very precious contents. Please don't jostle them!" he said with an almost manic glee in his tone. "Right this way gentlemen," he beckoned them up the steep and twisting path leading to the rocky caverns that sat under the gloomy house.

They once had been used by smugglers back in the eighteenth century but had been forgotten for years. Alfred had made them into comfortable chambers for his newly arrived honored guest. He chuckled to himself as he looked back at the two stolid, unimaginative men obediently carrying the first of the crates to its new home. He had queried them as to whether they had family or friends that might miss them when they were gone on a late night rendezvous. They never understood that they had been hired, only them out of several dozen men interviewed, because of the simple negative they gave to that question. After their labors they would never leave Spoon Island again. Alfred, ever the consummate butler, would be sure to see that dinner was served.

The sun had risen several hours ago but it couldn't penetrate the intentionally dim cavern that was the ICU. Jason slept on, exhausted from weeks of being on high alert that had culminated in the nerve wracking events of the night before. It was the smallest twitch in the hand that he still held clasped within his own that brought him to back to instant consciousness.

"Spinelli?" he whispered, raising his head, hoping against hope that his brother was waking up.

"Ja..aso,' it was little more than the groaning of several almost unrecognizable syllables.

Jason swallowed, gripping Spinelli's hand tightly, he leaned over him, willing him to be all right, to be aware and not too damaged. "Yeah, Spinelli, I'm here. I'm right here. You're in the hospital but you're safe." With his free hand he pushed the call button wanting Spinelli to be checked out.

"What…" just pushing that one word out drained Spinelli. He had yet to open his eyes and his features were contorted with pain.

The door opened and a flood of people entered. Jason didn't recognize any of them. They were all from the day shift. "This isn't good enough!" he thought angrily to himself. He wanted people he knew and trusted tending to Spinelli. "Where's Dr. Drake or Dr. Scorpio?" he growled, standing and fully assuming his most intimidating demeanor.

"Mr. Morgan, we are here to assess Mr. Spinelli's condition and if you interfere or block us in performing our duties, security will be called to escort you from the room!" The doctor who spoke was a small rotund man, with a comb over and a luxuriant handle bar moustache. He exuded the air of a bully, someone who hid behind the authority of a medical degree and the delusion that he had never been wrong since somewhere around the age of six.

Jason and he glared at each other. Jason's fists clenched and he stepped towards the smaller man causing the doctor to back up into the bed which he sat upon heavily, eliciting a groan of pain from Spinelli. At that sound Jason's fury knew no bounds and he was reaching to drag the doctor from the bed when his name was called, "Jason!"

It was Robin standing at the door, she had intended on being here much earlier but Patrick had taken Emma's morning feeding, leaving her to oversleep. "Stop it!" she commanded as Jason reluctantly stepped back.

"I don't want him anywhere near Spinelli," he dictated.

Robin pasted her best diplomatic smile on her face and turned to the little doctor who was clambering off the bed, while trying to wrap himself in the shreds of his dignity. "Dr. Marlowe, I must apologize for any misunderstanding that might have occurred but Mr. Spinelli is indeed a patient of mine and Dr. Drake's. He isn't a teaching case and so, I would appreciate it if you and your students could go elsewhere while I evaluate Mr. Spinelli."

Dr. Marlowe stared frostily at Robin, ignoring Jason altogether, "His is an interesting case; he had cardiac cessation twice and lost a considerable volume of blood. Gunshot wounds seem to be a special feature here in Port Charles and it seemed appropriate to educate our young doctors in their many fascinating manifestations."

Robin found herself growing irritated and she was truly concerned that she might not be able to control Jason who had been glowering fiercely at Dr. Marlowe while he so casually and publicly dissected Spinelli's condition.

"Well," she said tightly, biting off each word as a sign of her annoyance, "Mr. Spinelli is a special case to the Chief of Staff of this hospital-Dr. Drake, my husband," she underlined it, in case he had forgotten. "So, perhaps you can take your students to some other less "interesting" case that isn't in the ICU."

Ever sensitive to his own career, Dr. Marlowe heard the implied threat in Robin's speech. He nodded curtly to the group of students, most of whom had already begun sidling out into the hall and away from the confrontation. "Certainly, as you wish, Dr. Scorpio." As he moved past Jason, who stood foursquare in his path, his icy blue gaze never deviating from him, he muttered, "Cretin!"

The only thing that saved him from annihilation was a mumbled "Stone…Cold…" from Spinelli. Jason immediately forgot Marlowe and moved to his brother's side. "Yeah, it's Stone Cold. I'm right here."

Spinelli's eyes were now open but they were opaque and dull looking. "Where…" he looked around vaguely at all the equipment surrounding him and the i.v. lines in his arms and sighing closed his eyes again.

"Hey, Spinelli," it was Robin standing on the other side of the bed. She pulled up his eyelids one by one, shining a light in his eyes to check his pupil reactivity. She then took his pulse and listened to his heart and lungs. Picking up his chart she started to record data from the various readings on the machines.

Jason waited anxiously, not wanting to interrupt but desperate to know what the outcome of her examination was. Robin looked up at him and smiled reassuringly. "All your vitals are looking good and your temperature's only 100 degrees. Not bad after the night you had. Are you in pain?"

Spinelli nodded his head, once more opening his sunken eyes, "Hurts a lot."

"I'm not surprised. There are a lot of nerves in the abdomen. You see that little button hanging over the edge of the bed?"

Spinelli looked to where she was pointing and Jason picked up the little plastic knob and handed it to him. "Push this Spinelli," he said, "It's pain medicine. You'll feel better." As Spinelli hesitated, Jason leaned over him, looking directly into his eyes. "Don't say it," he warned him as Spinelli began to try to speak, "I don't want to hear one word about refusing pain medicine because I do. You will push this button or I will, those are your choices."

Robin thought about intervening, since the whole point of a morphine drip was for the patient himself to self-medicate within safe parameters. Yet, she understood that if Jason were lying in this bed, he would never push the button and that Spinelli was trying to emulate his mentor. It was clear that they needed to sort this out between the two of them.

Spinelli reluctantly nodded and taking the knob from Jason depressed the button. Jason stepped back with a relieved sigh, "Sometimes," he thought, entirely oblivious to the irony involved, "the kid can be so stubborn!"

"Spinelli," Robin began as she tried to gauge his mental alertness and emotional state, "Do you remember what happened last night?"

Spinelli looked puzzled, as he wrinkled his forehead in concentration. He thought for a moment, "No, uh, I remember being at the coffee shop…with Stone Cold and then going to Kelly's. Maxism-Maxie was there with Dr. Hunter…" He stopped talking, obviously unhappy with the memory.

Robin and Jason looked at each over the bed and Jason took over the questioning. "What happened after you left Kelly's?"

"I was just heading home. I wanted to get there before you." There was a change in his expression as memories started to flood back before he was ready for them. He started to tremble and his speech became a jumble of third and first person references. "The Jackal," he looked up at Jason with an awareness of his insubordination, "he knows he shouldn't have crossed the park, but I had the cake…"

"Cake?" Robin and Jason echoed together.

The morphine was finally making itself felt and Spinelli suddenly felt detached, floating away from pain, and even his mentor's imagined disapproval. Yet, the image of a sad, abandoned celebratory (chocolate) cake squashed and left on a dark pathway in the sinister park was more than his overwhelmed brain could take. Large, clear droplets started to fall from his eyes as he mourned for the lost chance of alleviating this dreary existence by simply sharing some birthday cheer with his best friend, his brother.

Jason tried urgently to calm Spinelli, his tears were more than he could bear, "It's all right. It doesn't matter, it's all over. You can just rest and get better," he intoned soothingly.

"The cake, I lost the cake. I dropped it after they shot…" His eyes opened in amazed dismay and he looked down at his sheet covered abdomen. "The Jackal, the Jackal was shot and the blood, it was on the box, all white and red. Then he was going to shoot the Jackal in the head and I knew-I just knew that I was going to die." In his increasing agitation, Spinelli had fought off the disassociative effects of the pain killer and was trying to sit up which caused a red hot bolt of agony to shoot through him.

Jason was trying frantically to still him, to prevent him from hurting himself or tearing his stitches. He looked up to see why Robin wasn't trying to help and was startled to see she was no longer there. "Spinelli, shh, shh, Please, don't, you'll hurt yourself!" He couldn't get him to lie down. Spinelli kept fighting Jason, who was handicapped in his response because he was afraid of manhandling him and making things worse.

"The Russians, it was the Russians. You have to go Stone Cold, it isn't safe, you have to make it safe!" Spinelli was practically hyperventilating at the thought of all the time lost, all the time Jason had wasted because of him, his stupidity. How many more people had been hurt or died because he had to take a shortcut, had to celebrate a birthday in the middle of a war…

Robin was back and injecting a clear liquid into one of Spinelli's i.v. lines. "Jason, just hold him still for a minute or two, this drug is a quick acting sedative."

Jason complied the best he could with Spinelli's writhing body captured as gently as possible in his arms. "My fault, my fault," he wept in grief, his resistance fading as the drug entered his system.

Jason laid his brother down carefully, and put his hand on his cheek wiping away a tear trail. "Nothing is your fault," he asserted in a choked voice, "You need to forget about everybody else and get well. It's your turn to be taken care of, just let us take care of you…"

The drug was too powerful to fight, he was drifting, losing consciousness but still managed to utter a few last words, "the Jackal is sorry to have ruined his Master's birthday…" He was out, lost in a drug induced coma, safe for the moment from self-recrimination and nightmares.

Robin looked at Jason who was still staring down at Spinelli, his hand resting on his cheek. Realization of what Spinelli had just said finally penetrated his anxiety ridden brain. Guilt flooded through his system as he understood what had happened last night.

Spinelli had wanted to spend the evening at home-at the penthouse-because it had been Jason's birthday. The cake, the short cut through the park, the shooting-all of it his culpability. He closed his eyes unable to deal with the repercussions that resonated from the simple fact of his having been born. This friend, this brother, this irreplaceable other was laying here because of him-Jason Morgan and it was only by the smallest sliver of luck that he wasn't residing in the morgue. He swayed with dizziness and remorse.

Robin read and understood every emotion that flickered over Jason's face in the course of thirty seconds. "It isn't your fault that you had a birthday, Jason. Don't be ridiculous! It isn't Spinelli's fault that he wanted to surprise you with a cake. This is the fault of those barbarians that have overrun this city. You and Spinelli, you are heroes, standing up to them, trying to keep people safe."

She looked at him fiercely, "Don't you dare indulge in self pity or guilt that isn't warranted. He needs you full and whole and able to help him with his recovery, to give him strength to deal with his demons, his nightmares. You don't get the luxury of shouldering one more burden that isn't yours in the first place. Enough is enough, Jason!"

Robin who never lost her temper, her perspective, her objectivity was practically yelling at him over an unconscious patient in the ICU. Jason was stunned, he wasn't sure he had ever seen Robin like this in all the years they had known one another. He realized that everything she said was true, that if he became consumed by guilt it would be self indulgent and prevent him from being there for Spinelli whose own undeserved repentance would be crippling enough for two.

He stepped back from the bed and raised both his arms, palms out, to indicate defeat. "You win," he said in mock terror. "Just stop shouting, Spinelli needs his sleep."

Robin grinned at him sheepishly, she didn't know what had come over her, but whatever it was-it had worked. Jason was back. "Sorry," she said, "You just made me so mad, feeling guilty for being the only person in this town with a backbone. They call you a criminal but you and Spinelli are the only ones standing up to the real…" She was doing it again.

Jason put a finger to his lips and nodded towards a sleeping Spinelli. Gazing down at the young man, he said with quiet wonder, "How did he even know it was my birthday?"

Robin knew an exit line that was too good to pass up, "That's easy, he Jackaled you!" Then she was out of the room on her way to other patients.

Jason rested his hand on Spinelli's forehead checking for signs of fever. He didn't seem particularly warm and Jason didn't want to risk waking him by inserting the ear thermometer, he would take his temperature later. Spinelli had been doing a lot of sleeping for the past several weeks. He slept for hours at a time and often would doze off in the middle of a conversation or even during a meal. Robin had told him that it was a perfectly normal reaction while Spinelli's body tried to recover from the trauma it had endured and heal. Still, it worried Jason.

Today had been a stressful one for Spinelli. He had finally been released from the hospital. Jason had bought a wheelchair for him and taken him home. He was walking, taking short trips in physical therapy but he wasn't up to longer walks or even standing for extended periods.

The culminative effects of leaving the hospital combined with the short drive to the penthouse and the ride up the elevator had fatigued Spinelli who still possessed little physical stamina. Since getting him up the stairs wasn't an option, Jason had established a bed in place of the pool table for him. He would be close to the kitchen and could look out the French doors at the city below. Jason himself intended to sleep on the couch for as long as Spinelli's recuperation took.

The minute Spinelli's head had touched the pillows of the new bed, he had fallen fast asleep. Jason looked down at his sleeping roommate, grateful to have him out of the hospital and back home with him. In reality, Jason himself hadn't been spending much time at the penthouse. Except for short forays back in order to take a shower and get a change of clothes or to pick up some of Spinelli's things, he had been staying, even sleeping, at the hospital.

Jason ran a hand through his hair as he thought about one of the most challenging aspects of Spinelli's recovery. He was healing, physically and emotionally, day by day he was getting stronger and the spark that was his spirit had reappeared in his eyes. Yet, the one thing he wasn't doing to anyone's satisfaction, and it definitely had the potential to compromise his recovery-was eating.

Spinelli had never pursued a nutritionally sound diet. It had driven Jason-he of the green leafy vegetables, wheat bread, and lean protein dietary habits-crazy over the years as he watched Spinelli seemingly subsist on nothing but barbecued potato chips and orange soda. Time and again he had tried to get the young man to eat more intelligently. Yet, in this one situation, his influence over Spinelli failed entirely. His mentor's requests and role modeling of a sensible eating regime failed to get the Jackal to modulate his diet one whit.

Over time, Jason had resigned himself to his roommate's unhealthy and peculiar eating habits. He never entirely gave up pursuing the issue and still made sporadic attempts at getting him to modify his food intake.

Things had changed radically since the shooting-Spinelli once he was cleared to eat solid food again, seemed to ingest almost nothing. He had always been a picky eater but this time he had taken it to the extreme. Spinelli didn't seem interested at all in food, he had little appetite and he only ate small amounts at any given time. Even then it appeared he only ate to appease others not because he was hungry.

Thanksgiving had come and gone while he was in the hospital and it had been a happy but tiring day. Cody and the rest of Jason and Spinelli's comrades had come over to the hospital to spend the afternoon. They now worked for Sonny in the newly formed Corinthos-Zacchara organization but their true loyalty, fused in the heat of battle, was to Jason and the Jackal.

All through the day, nurses, doctors and a parade of visitors had stopped by to wish Spinelli a Happy Thanksgiving. Mike personally bought an enormous Turkey dinner, complete with all the trimmings, over from Kelly's and stayed for quite a while. Eventually he had to leave because he had promised Sonny he would eat with him. He would have preferred to stay in Spinelli's room where everyone was in such high spirits, even Jason was more relaxed and content than Mike could ever recall seeing him.

Still, he knew he had to go and that Sonny would be cooking a feast to feed twenty. In actuality it would be a depressing and small gathering consisting of his wife of convenience-Claudia, her baleful father Anthony, and Mike himself. It was not a get-together he looked forward to but Sonny was his family and needed his support and so Mike went.

Even with all the enticing aromas emanating from the special meal Mike had prepared especially for the day, Spinelli found he had no appetite. It was only the concerned look in Jason's eye which he saw every time he looked up from his plate that enabled him to eat a small amount. By rearranging the food on his plate, he hoped that it would appear he had eaten something but no one was fooled by the charade.

Around six o'clock Thanksgiving evening Spinelli had gone down for the count. It was then his last and most valued visitor had materialized. Maxie Jones had come straight from her own family's celebration. She knocked on the door and peered into the room. She immediately realized that Spinelli was sleeping. Maxie looked inquiringly over at Jason who was busy straightening up the room after the afternoon's festivities.

Jason motioned her in, whispering "He just fell asleep and it was a long day for him. I'm not sure if it's worth your while to wait, he might be out for the night."

"I'll just sit with him for a while," she replied in a low voice as she pulled one of the room's chairs up to the bed. "Why don't you get out of here and get some fresh air or take a walk or something," she suggested. Maxie knew she wanted some time alone with Spinelli, even an unconscious Spinelli, though she couldn't have said why if asked.

Jason hesitated, he knew exactly why Maxie was having these feelings, someday he expected she would remember everything about her relationship with Spinelli. He wasn't sure he ever wanted that day to come because he didn't want Spinelli to get hurt if Maxie reentered his life and assumed the awkward role of more than friend but not quite girlfriend she had previously occupied. Right now, Spinelli had made a rough peace with Maxie's amnesia and the belief that his life was to dangerous for her to be around him. Jason didn't know what would happen if everything about the situation suddenly reverted to what it had been.

At the moment, Jason's number one priority was Spinelli's recovery. Everything else was analyzed and measured against that single overriding goal. He decided that it was likely that Spinelli really was going to sleep for several hours and it wouldn't matter if Maxie was sitting with him or not. Perhaps her presence would even provide him with some comfort. So, Jason inclined his head in acceptance of her offer, "Thanks, I think I will go out for a while. Call a nurse if there are any problems."

Maxie nodded, impatient for Jason to leave. "We'll be fine. I'll be here if he wakes up or needs anything," Already Jason was fading from her awareness as she turned to look at Spinelli, trying to disentangle the jumble of emotions that she felt whenever she was around him.

"I don't understand why I feel this way about you," she murmured in quiet frustration. Spinelli stirred uneasily as though he had heard what she had said. "I know it's six months later in time and I have forgotten stuff. I didn't see the rest of Robin's pregnancy or her and Patrick getting married or Emma being born. I get all that!"

She massaged her temples as though that would bring the missing memories back. "Everyone I talk to says that you and I were friends. Well," she amended, "good friends, I guess. That's what we were before, really good friends." She looked over at Spinelli and took his hand in hers as a slight smile curved his slumbering mouth. "You helped me find Georgie's killer but more than that you got me through the grief of another person leaving me, dying…."

She looked up at the wall, her eyes unfocused as she remembered a past that seemed much more recent and immediate to her than to those around her. Mac and Robin seemed to have more perspective more distance with regard to Georgie's death. Yet, to Maxie the loss was still raw and it was this strange, gentle young man lying here sleeping who had reached her when she was in the depths of despair. Maxie knew what no one else did, that without Spinelli in her life, she herself would very likely not still be alive.

So, maybe that was the reason she was drawn to him, he had seen her at her worst, her most defeated and most angry and he hadn't been repelled. Instead he had done everything he could to help her and comfort her and that was before they even liked or trusted one another. She had never met anyone like Damian Spinelli, never had a man in her life who was just simply her friend and she treasured that.

Matt Hunter and she were growing closer but she knew deep down that it wouldn't, couldn't last because as much fun as they had together, as good as the sex was-she blushed. Even thinking about sex in the presence of Spinelli caused her to blush… "What was that?" she wondered amazed. Maxie Jones who could make sailors cringe if she so wished, who never met a thought that was better left unexpressed, was turning bright red like a delicate maiden simply because she thought the word s-e-x in the presence of her sleeping…friend.

"Friend!" she thought firmly to herself. "Damian Spinelli her dear, close, much appreciated… Why couldn't she get the damned word out?"

"Anyway," she thought, letting it go for the moment, "Matt and I, we can't last because we're too much alike-selfish and immature and we fight way too much. Still, the make-up se…"

Spinelli groaned uncomfortably in his sleep startling her. "That's just weird," she thought flustered, looking down at him. He seemed to be in the grip of a bad dream as he moved around saying, "No, no, Maximista!"

"Maximista?" she repeated curiously as she bent closer to Spinelli. He had used that term before around her though he was always catching himself and calling her Maxie instead. "Spinelli," she said softly, her voice a mere tremor of air next to his ear, "am I Maximista in your dreams?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jason barked at her causing Maxie to jump guiltily. He was standing by the door and Maxie wondered how long he had been there.

"Nothing!" she replied defensively. "I've just been sitting here holding Spinelli's hand. See?" Maxie raised the limp appendage in question as exhibit A in her attempt to exonerate herself.

Jason just scowled at her and gestured abruptly towards the door. "You need to leave. I'm back and Spinelli needs his rest."

"Fine!" Maxie sniffed petulantly, as she shoved the chair back and got up to go. "You make sure to tell him that I was here and I'll be back to see him. Whenever I want to…" she added meaningfully as she brushed by him haughtily.

That had been a while ago and while Jason had told Spinelli about Maxie's visit there hadn't been a repeat engagement. It had been hard for him to watch his young friend's eyes light up with excitement every time the door to his room had opened and then see his disappointed face as he realized that it wasn't Maxie-wasn't ever going to be Maxie. Jason could wring her neck for what she put him through. Somehow the fact that she was entirely unaware of all the pain she was causing Spinelli only made it that much worse and reinforced Jason's view of her as being cold and unfeeling.

Now, Spinelli was back home where he belonged and Jason was going to make sure that he had a peaceful environment in which to recover and get back to being his usual annoying self. "If only," Jason thought to himself wistfully, as he headed to the kitchen.

He was going to make a nutritionally sound meal and then through a combination of coercion and cajoling he was going to make sure that Spinelli ate every last bite. One of the best things about being Jason Morgan was that he had absolutely no compunction about using every weapon at his disposal in order to get what he wanted. In Spinelli's case if that meant using his hero worship of "Stone Cold" to nurse him back to health, than that was exactly what he would do…

"Stone Cold?" His voice was tentative.

Jason glanced at Spinelli, looking away from the shot he was setting up. The pool table had only been back for a couple of days and Jason and it were getting reacquainted, rather like lovers after a long separation. "Yeah," he responded still distracted by his consideration of angles and the likelihood that he could get the striped seven past the solid six which was obdurately blocking the side pocket Jason had picked for his shot.

"The Jackal has been thinking…well, he can't help noticing that his Master hasn't been going to the coffee shop to attend to business. It's been almost two weeks since I have been back from the hospital and surely there are urgent matters that require your consideration."

Spinelli had Jason's full attention now, he hadn't been looking forward to having this conversation. "Um," he said as he put the pool cue down, trying to think of a stalling tactic, "Well, I've been focusing on making sure you're all right. That has been the most important concern for me right now."

"The Jac…I appreciate everything you have done for me, Jason." His deadly earnestness showed in the deliberate use of his given name. "Really, I owe you everything," he shook his head in negation to block Jason's instinctive protest to his claim. "I do, I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you and I can't express how your many kindnesses throughout my recovery have touched me. I am not worthy of such notice. Nevertheless, I am deeply indebted to you for showing such to me."

Jason interrupted him, "Spinelli, if you really want to thank me then the best way to do so is to stop putting yourself down all the time. I do worry about you, you are very important to me. The plain truth is that I didn't trust anyone else to take care of you. I almost lost you…"

He swallowed; the memory was still too raw. Every night in his dreams he relived the shooting, the grief the pain and sometimes…sometimes he didn't manage to save him. Those were the nights he woke trembling and with a shout of anguish erupting from his throat.

"I'm better now. I've moved back into the…" he had almost referenced his regrettably pink room but he could no longer do that. Now the walls were a restful sea green, painted one frantic night by Jason in a burst of shame-fueled energy as part of his vow to never, ever take Spinelli for granted again. He had tackled the most obvious example of his previous neglect first. Two years of making Spinelli reside in a room that would have driven anyone less forgiving to have vacated the premises long since-he still couldn't comprehend the meanness of it.

"Anyway," he continued, refusing to be sidetracked, "I can stay by myself now and you can go into the office. Besides, you must be bored staying here all the time. I myself am going a little stir crazy. It must be much more difficult for someone so used to having complete freedom of movement to be tied down."

"I'm fine, Spinelli. It's not a problem. Actually, it's kind of nice to have some down time. I'm getting a chance to work on my pool game." He tapped the table, trying any way he could to deflect this discussion that he wasn't prepared to have, would never be ready for.

Spinelli refused to let it go. "Jason, there are people we have to help. Our people, innocent bystanders-they're our responsibility and I know that you don't shirk your duty." Something was wrong, he could sense it, this wasn't like Stone Cold…

Jason tried one last desperate gambit, short of out and out lying which he knew he couldn't do. "That's just it. Everything's calm. The Russians are dispersed, the streets are peaceful. Everything has been quiet ever since all the violence the night you got shot… So, there's nothing for me to tend to, it's all under control." He tried a deprecating shrug and turning picked up the cue stick. He attempted the shot. "Shit!" He had nearly ripped the felt-that had never happened to him, never!

Spinelli's eyes narrowed in suspicion, something was not right. He had never seen Jason get so rattled during a simple discussion. "If what Stone Cold says is true," he said slowly, trying to sort through his thoughts, his brain often felt sluggish these days. "Then things have returned to the status quo and you should still be conducting the normal day to day business of the organization. Yet, there hasn't been one sheet of paper, one phone call, one trip to the docks to supervise the unloading of a shipment."

Suddenly Spinelli realized that the situation was dire, much worst than he had been contemplating. "What did you do, Jason? What did you do that night-when I was shot. What?"

Jason couldn't hide it any longer. He raised his eyes and looked directly into Spinelli's fearful green gaze. "What I had to," he replied simply. "You were in surgery, the city was in chaos. I could…wouldn't leave you. I told the men they had to manage the best they could and then…"

Spinelli felt ill, he grabbed for the couch, all of sudden he had no strength in his limbs. Jason was there in an instant, guiding him to a seat. His brother's eyes were closed and his face was pale and shiny with sweat. Jason ran to get him some water and one of his pain pills, all the while he was cursing himself for his clumsiness in handling the situation.

Spinelli took the pill and gulped down half the bottle of water Jason proffered. Then with his head tiredly resting on the back of the couch, he turned towards Jason and said inimically, "Tell me, what did you do?"

"I gave the organization back to Sonny." Jason said bluntly without any further attempts at avoidance.

"Why," Spinelli asked heatedly, "Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because I didn't have a choice, he was there with Cody and he offered to take on the Russians and the price for that was his getting back the operation. Well," Jason said remembering with a disdainful curl of his lip, "He also said we could go back to the old partnership with him in charge and me as his enforcer."

"That would not be fitting for Stone Cold! Such an offer is beneath him!" Spinelli said, retroactively indignant on his mentor's behalf.

"I hung up on him." Jason smiled with cold satisfaction.

"As well you should!" Finally, Stone Cold had stood up to Sonny, but at what cost? "Jason, this is all on me, because of the choices I made that night…"

"Don't! Don't you dare say that, Spinelli! You were shot, you almost died. If it's anyone's fault it's mine, I was supposed to look after you. I just let you go out without any protection into a city that we knew was unsafe-if you had died…" He knew that the guilt might never leave him.

"I went into the park after you said not to. Then because you chose to stay with me, Sonny came after you at your most vulnerable and took everything back."

Spinelli rubbed his forehead, no matter what he decided, thought, did-he always messed things up, caused problems for other people. If only he had left Stone Cold's life like he had Maximista's maybe none of this would ever happened. He wasn't fit to be anyone's friend.

"I don't care about any of that Spinelli. I only care about you. Do you know what I would have done if you had died, do you?"

"Yes," Spinelli mumbled his head downcast, his eyes filling with tears at the chaos he had created. "Stone Cold would have gone and taken out the Russians. He would have avenged the Jackal."

"You're right, that's exactly what I would have done. Do you know what else? Well, do you? Look at me Spinelli!" Jason's tone had turned sharp.

He hated seeing Spinelli this upset, he had reluctantly raised his head and Jason could see the tears he was fighting back, the total misery in his face. Still, he had to convince him, make him understand what had been at stake.

"I would have died." He said it abruptly, bleakly, glad to see the shock reflected in Spinelli's expression. "That's right, I would have died. Probably that very night, I would have stepped out at the wrong moment and taken my own bullet. If it hadn't happened then-well, I would have gone looking for it the next day or the next, and I wouldn't have failed."

"Stone Cold!" Spinelli was stunned. "Why would you say such a thing? You have Jake and Fair Elizabeth. So many people depend on you…"

"No, I don't have Jake and I never will. Elizabeth hates me and she would never let me into his life and nor should she after everything that's happened. I am tired of people depending on me. The person that I depend on almost died-that's you, Spinelli-you! If you had died there wouldn't have been anything but emptiness and guilt. The organization-that's nothing, I would have given it up ten times over and so much more, anything to have made sure you would live."

Spinelli looked into Jason's eyes and saw the absolute truth of everything he had just said. Stone Cold would not just have killed for the Jackal, he would have died for him as well. Spinelli had never before had anyone tell him that his absence, his loss would be unbearable. He knew what it had cost his stoic mentor to admit to such feelings, such thoughts and he didn't know how to respond, how to repay him.

Swiping at his eyes, he tried to get things back on a more even emotional keel, that would seem to be the only thing he could do at this moment to help Stone Cold. "Jason, I didn't die. I couldn't as long as you willed it otherwise. As long as you want me to be here and in your life, I will be." He said it with quiet rectitude.

Jason nodded, accepting Spinelli's reaction, the dialing down of emotional tension. He quirked his lips in a shadow of a smile, as he responded "A long, long time-forever sounds good to me."

"What does Stone Cold intend to pursue as his career plan during this epoch time period?" Spinelli broached the subject cautiously. "Brushing up one's pool game is not a full time occupation."

"Who says I need a full time job? I certainly don't need the money." Jason shrugged.

"Yes, but the Jackal knows his Master. He needs to be busy and active. He is used to challenges and excitement in his work never mind the adrenalin rush of dealing with danger on a daily basis."

Jason looked at Spinelli speculatively, "I had one idea…but it involves you."

Spinelli looked at Jason eagerly, "Stone Cold has thought to include the Jackal in his future vocational endeavors?"

"Yeah. Well, you're the only one that has a private investigator license." Jason responded, hoping that his roommate would like the idea as much as he did after pondering it off and on over several weeks.

He was adequately rewarded as Spinelli joyfully jumped off the couch and just as quickly fell back again as his still healing wound reacted by sending a sharp jolt of pain throughout his abdomen. Jason immediately reached for him but Spinelli, clutching his stomach, waved him away and tried to smile at him through the dull throbbing. "Jackal and Stone P.I," he whispered in delight. "Really, Stone Cold, you really want to be partners in a private investigation firm?"

"Well, I don't know," Jason answered. He was enjoying seeing a happy Spinelli for a change and was unable to resist the opportunity to tease him a little. "We'd have to negotiate a few things. Like I think it needs to be Morgan and Spinelli, since I would be bankrolling the enterprise. Also, I won't have anything to do with the billing or computers. No lost pet cases either," he warned.

"Absolutely, Sto-Jason! Your name is almost as good as Jackal and Stone and I can do all the paperwork and tech support. Your brawn and my brains will make an unbeatable combination!" He stopped horrified at what his runaway mouth had done this time. "Th…that..i..is the Jackal didn't mean to imply. Stone Cold has both intellect and the musculature to back it up…" He stuttered to a stop, mortified.

Jason just sat there internally amused at Spinelli's discomfort. It had been a long time since he had seen the young man so excited and happy about anything. He thought that this new partnership might be the best thing that had happened to either of them in a long time.

Several days later Jason's cell phone rang as Spinelli and he were just getting ready to go out. Spinelli's physical therapist had him going on daily walks of increasing length and Jason always accompanied him. "Morgan," he said impatiently as he started out the door. When he heard the voice on the other end, he stopped in surprise.

Spinelli saw tension seep into his posture and his face take on the appearance of carved wood all of which signified that Jason was making a conscious effort to control his temper. The phone conversation only lasted a few moments and was monosyllabic on Jason's part.

"Sonny wants me to come and sign the official documents that give the business back to him," he said with a sigh. "I guess we'll have to postpone the walk."

"The Jackal could go with Stone Cold for moral support," Spinelli offered though the last person in the world he wanted to encounter was Sonny Corinthos. The man didn't like him and was never shy about showing that fact. Spinelli was feeling a lot better but he wasn't up to a confrontation with the ruthless mob boss.

"No, this is something I have to do on my own," Jason said resolutely.

"Well, perhaps the Jackal could walk as far as Kelly's and wait there for his Master." He saw the indecision on Jason's face and knew how he could clinch the deal. "I've been craving a grilled cheese sandwich from there."

Spinelli's eating habits were gradually improving but he needed to put on weight and Jason gracefully gave into the emotional blackmail. "All right, zip up your jacket and put on your hat, it's cold outside. Let's go."

Jason entered the coffee shop and was surprised at how tense he immediately felt. All the time he had spent in this place, strategizing and planning missions of violence which frequently ended in the wounding or death of some of his own men. The last time he had been here had been the night Spinelli almost died. He was actually relieved to find that after today he would never again have to come here.

Cody was outside the office door and he smiled at Jason. "Hey, Jason. Mr. Corinthos said to send you in directly when you arrived."

Jason nodded in acknowledgment, "How's it going? Is Sonny treating you well?"

Cody shrugged, "We miss working for you but Mr. Corinthos is a fair boss. Anyway, now that the Russians have been handled and the Zacchara organization joined with your…Mr. Corinthos' business, things have been pretty quiet. Dull, actually… How's Spinelli doing?"

"Good, he is slowly getting out more. He is more like his old self."

"Give him my regards. Take care of yourself, Jason," Cody opened the door admitting him into what used to be his own office.

"Yeah, I'll do that. You and the guys be careful."

As Jason walked through the door, Sonny, who had been sitting behind the desk, got up and walked over to Jason holding out his hand. Jason ignored him and walked towards the desk which was bare except for two piles of paper neatly aligned on the front edge.

Sonny rolled his neck and stared at Jason's rigid back, irritated with his ex-partner's cavalier treatment of his attempt at civility. He decided to try again and asked in a neutral tone, "How's Spinelli doing?"

Jason turned his head and regarded Sonny with an unreadable expression. He knew Sonny could care less about Spinelli but he decided it would be quicker if he went along with this charade of their still being something to one other. "Fine," he said abruptly.

"It's been a while since he was released from the hospital," Sonny was encouraged by the one word chink in Jason's silence.

"Keeping tabs?" Jason asked sardonically.

"Something like that," Sonny tried a little flash of his dimpled charm but Jason possessed the wrong chromosomes for that to have any impact. "Stubborn!" Sonny sighed internally to himself, "Well, so am I!" He started towards the drinks cart and turning offered, "Get you something?"

"No, thanks." While Sonny was pouring his trademark scotch, Jason scanned the office noting the minor changes that now marked it as Sonny's reclaimed territory. The main difference involved personal effects-pictures of Sonny's kids, though not one of Claudia he noticed. There were also several little knick-knacks mostly glass pieces that Sonny liked to pick up and fondle or occasionally throw against the wall in his not so infrequent bursts of rage. Jason remembered often witnessing such displays of temper. Everything was just all more cluttered and Jason didn't get it-he simply was not an artifact kind of guy.

He looked down at the two piles of paper. That was odd-why two? There must some sort of test or choice represented by them and that made Jason uneasy. He realized without even noticing it that all his senses had automatically gone on full alert. It was a sensation that he hadn't felt lately and surprisingly he hadn't missed it either.

He hoped that perhaps when he was working as a P.I. he would only have to experience a milder form of vigilance when he worked. Constantly having to be on guard against being attacked or killed was fatiguing and what was truly sad was that it had became such a part of his day to day life that he hardly even noticed it.

Sonny spoke again, interrupting Jason's musings. "It's been a while, I haven't seen or spoken to you since the night Spinelli got shot."

Jason really hated the way Sonny kept talking about Spinelli like he had any right, like he felt anything for him but contempt. "You mean the night you took back the organization," he said harshly.

"Yeah, well, I have had time to think and maybe I was a bit hasty…" Sonny admitted.

"A bit power hungry," Jason mentally amended.

"Since then, I've had time to consider things and gain perspective and maybe your vacation from all this," Sonny gestured around the room, "has done the same for you."

Raising an eyebrow as he looked at Sonny in disbelief, Jason repeated, "Vacation! All those days and nights I spent wondering and worrying about him-whether he was going to survive and be okay. Wondering what I should have done to prevent it. Yeah, some vacation!"

Jason was amazed, no matter what, Sonny never changed. He still was so self-involved that he only ever saw things as he wanted them to be and only heard what he wanted to hear. Cutting him out of his life was both the smartest move he had ever made and the most overdue.

Sonny ignored Jason's outburst and seemed entirely oblivious to the hostility that emanated from him. He was focused on his goal and everything else was immaterial. "Well, I've cooled down and have realized that I miss you, I miss us. Things just aren't the same anymore. Don't get me wrong, Cody-he's great, really reliable. Still, that thing, where you just know what the other person is thinking, is going to do… I don't have that with him or anyone else and I doubt I ever will. No, that was just between you and me Jason. We were a team, partners all the way." He looked over at Jason, hoping that his words were doing their job by starting to reestablish the bond between the two of them that had often been strained but never really broken.

Jason did remember that feeling. He had shared that unspoken link with Sonny, that sense of utter trust and reliance. The problem was all that had been a long time ago, it was in the past and Sonny seemed incapable of recognizing that. The two of them had been disconnected and heading down separate paths for far too long to ever be a workable team again.

Sonny had revised history to suit himself. He believed he could rearrange things simply by the force of his will. He seemed to see things as he wanted them to be rather than as they really were. Jason would like to believe that this was all some symptom of Sonny's bipolar condition, but he knew him very well and he could tell he wasn't off his medication. So, that meant that this particular delusion of his must just be a result of his overactive ego.

"Yeah," Jason began in response to Sonny's blatantly emotional appeal. He wanted to be cruel, he wanted some of his own back-he wanted to hurt Sonny. He told himself it was for Spinelli, for the abusive way Sonny had always treated him. Yet, if he were being honest, he ought to substitute his own name in for Spinelli's. "I know that's exactly how it is for Spinelli and me. We don't need words to get it done, to know what's needed. We just read each other so well…it's a special relationship. You don't find that type of closeness with just anyone."

It was a long speech for Jason and it elicited a satisfactory response from its target. Sonny's face flushed, his lips whitened as he pressed them together furiously, and his eyes narrowed in wrath and humiliation. Jason saw it all and felt a flush of vindication, finally he had paid back in kind some of what he had endured from Sonny over all these years.

Right now all Jason could think of was that he was impatient to get back to Spinelli and get out of this oppressive atmosphere. How had he survived it all these years? He needed to speed things along.

"Let's do it, let's get these papers signed. You were right, Sonny, I was never suited to sit behind that desk. It belongs to you." Jason could afford to throw him a bone, which was actually nothing but the simple truth. It represented the faint residue that was all that was left of years of a vibrant and valued relationship. Once upon a time, Jason and Sonny had been each other's family.

A cold pang went through him as he wondered if this is how he and Spinelli might end up some day, as enemies. No, it would never happen. Spinelli was nothing like Jason and he was nothing like Sonny as was being proven here today, during every minute of this undesired and interminable meeting.

Sonny eagerly responded to Jason's conciliatory words, he looked relaxed and pleased at the change in Jason's attitude. "That's exactly what I hoped you'd say. I had my lawyer draw up a second set of papers. These," he indicated the pile on the left side of the desk, "Recreate the Corinthos-Morgan organization. Except now the business is even bigger and better than it was before. It includes the Zacchara family as well as the Russian holdings." Sonny stood there smiling at Jason, proud of his shiny new toy and assured of his former Captain's capitulation. "I'll have the right to ultimate decision making power. You'll serve in an advisory capacity, run the men, and the day to day operations."

"In other words," Jason thought to himself sourly, "Absolutely nothing has changed, just more of the same old bullshit."

Jason had moved on and Sonny's offer had nothing in it to appeal to him. Still, out of academic curiosity, he couldn't resist testing Sonny, to see how far he was willing to go to get Jason back. "What about Spinelli?"

"Yeah, Spinelli," this was the best part of his honey-laden trap. He'd always known he would have to allow for the punk if he wanted Jason to agree to things. Actually, at the moment, he really did need good tech support and nobody had ever argued that the kid knew how to make a computer sing.

Yet, his ultimate goal was a Corinthos universe minus Spinelli's presence. He intended to entangle him in his web and then get rid of him. It was really too bad those idiot Russians couldn't shoot straight enough to take out one hapless geek, it would certainly have solved so many of Sonny's problems.

"Oh well," he thought with an internal smirk, "You want something done right and all that…" After Spinelli was gone, he'd be there for Jason, help him through it all and rebuild their relationship. Then it would be like old times.

What had Jason asked? Oh, yes the troublesome hacker. "Of course, Spinelli," he continued expansively, "We can always use a good man on the team and he's magic with a computer."

Jason regarded him speculatively. Something was off-Sonny was being too nice. Still, he supposed it didn't much matter what he was planning as long as Jason signed the right set of papers. First though he wanted to play with Sonny a little. "So, it's settled, we have a three way partnership. Corinthos-Morgan-Spinelli, it sounds good."

Sonny looked at Jason in shock, what was he talking about? "Uh, no, um those papers are just for a Corinthos-Morgan operation. I suppose I could raise Spinelli's salary," he offered weakly.

"No, Sonny, that's not good enough. Spinelli and I were full partners in everything but name and I was going to make it official once all the craziness stopped, He can't go back to being tech support any more than I could just be satisfied being your enforcer again."

Sonny's jaw dropped at Jason's unexpected response. Jason found the look on his face to be priceless. Why had he never done anything like this before? He was actually enjoying himself. Still, time was passing and he needed to get back.

"Just kidding, Sonny," he gave him a wry smile and stepped up to the desk. "Which are the partnership papers?"

Sonny, relieved that he had agreed to the arrangement, once again indicated the left hand pile. What had come over Jason? Since when did he have a sense of humor? It must be that idiot kid that had changed him, blunted his highly trained weapon. It was obvious he had his work cut out for him to get him back in fighting shape. He would get started as soon as he had Jason's signature securely down on the new papers.

Sonny watched in amazed disbelief. Jason had picked up the pen on the desk and had started signing the papers on the right. "No, Jason that's the wrong pile!" Was he deaf or feeble-minded, it was worse than Sonny had imagined.

Jason looked up at him; there was no longer any humor in his steely gaze. "No, Sonny, these are the right papers."

"What…." Sonny sputtered, he couldn't understand what was going on. "We have a deal. We are going to be partners!"

"Sonny," Jason spoke softly but there was no give in his tone, "I have a partner, the only one I need-his name is Damian Spinelli."

"That freak boy! You're pick…" Sonny never got to finish the sentence. Jason's fist crashed into his face breaking his nose. He flew backwards landing on the floor. His vision blurred and blood spewed out in an arc landing on his shirt, the carpet, everywhere it seemed. Jason Morgan had hit him, the impossible had happened.

"You broke my nose!" He was torn between incredulity and fury. "You hit me!" He started getting up, wanting nothing more than to hit back to beat on Jason until he was covered in blood and begging for forgiveness.

He was forestalled by the full force of Jason's icy gaze. Until today he had never seen those frosted eyes turned his way. He understood why so many people, even hardened criminals, quailed when Jason looked at them with that empty stare, the clear message that he was beyond appeal and that their lives hung only on his whim, his decision. Sonny abruptly sank back onto the floor.

Jason nodded his head in approbation of the choice he had made. He methodically continued to sign and initial each sheet of paper, while Sonny used his shirt sleeve to try to staunch the flow of blood. His head ached and his nose felt hot and swollen.

Finally, Jason was done. He carefully replaced the pen on the desk and turned to face Sonny. "There it's all yours again Sonny." He pointed at Sonny's face, "Consider that fair warning. You ever come after Spinelli or me, I'll kill you." Without another word, he walked out of the door and out of Sonny's world.

Cody was still on duty and as Jason walked out he pointed back at the office, "Might want to call a doctor over." He walked towards the outer door and stopped and turned, "Cody, we're starting a new business-it's legitimate. When it takes off, we could probably use someone with your skills. If you ever want to quit him…"

Cody grinned at Jason, "Maybe one of these days, I'll just take you up on that."

Jason had walked Spinelli up to the counter at Kelly's and waited while he seated himself on a stool. Then he said pointedly, "Order that grilled cheese and something else. Make sure you eat it all." He caught Mike's eye and was reassured as the older man nodded his head in understanding. Jason knew that Mike was fond of Spinelli and he could safely leave him in his care while he went to his unlooked for meeting with Sonny.

"Yes, Stone Cold." Spinelli said with subdued obedience. He was tired out by the walk to the diner, though he would never admit it to Jason who would immediately go and get the SUV and drive him back to the penthouse.

Spinelli really needed to be in a different environment for a while and away from Jason's overwhelming concern for him. He had spent what seemed like an eternity staring at bland hospital walls and then had traded that in for confinement within the penthouse. He just wanted a little breathing space where he didn't constantly have to worry about gauging Jason's watchfulness about his every move from what he ate to how he slept to whether he was overexerting himself.

He understood that Stone Cold was operating under an almost unendurable burden of guilt over Spinelli's shooting and how close he had actually come to dying. The fact that he hadn't in fact died seemed to make the situation worse not better for his Master. He seemed compelled to spend every moment assuring himself that Spinelli was going to continue to breathe in and breathe out. When he wasn't doing that, he was trying to make amends for all the times he felt he had slighted or ignored Spinelli.

Spinelli was gratified to realize once and for all that he truly did matter to Jason, and there was certainly no way even someone as insecure as the Jackal could miss the evidence supporting that conclusion. Yet, he was now ready to get back to the prior rhythm of their relationship. He wanted Jason to be in an apparent state of almost constant irritation with him and his antics and his interminable talking. Spinelli was tired of tiptoeing around Jason's sensibilities and he suspected the reverse was true as well.

Still, he thought once he was fully healed and perhaps when they began to pursue their mutual business venture in the New Year, things would return to the status quo. Until then, Spinelli would just have to take advantage of breaks such as this one in order to be able to cope with Jason's over protectiveness.

His reverie was interrupted by Jason's hand on his shoulder, "Did you hear what I said Spinelli?"

"Yes, the Jackal is to ingest a grilled cheese sandwich and whatever other sustenance is provided for him. He does not want his Master to be late for his meeting with Mr. Corinthos Sir."

Jason grimaced, he would just as soon never again see Sonny. Still, the sooner he went the sooner it would be over. "I'll be back in a while."

"Jason has a meeting with Sonny?" Mike asked as Jason left the diner.

"Yes, Stone Cold is to formally return the organization to your son." Spinelli felt awkward as he liked Mike very much while having a strong aversion towards his son for his treatment of Jason. He had to remember to be diplomatic when talking to Mike about Sonny.

Mike sighed, he had been much happier when Sonny had been out of the mob business. Still, his son was a grown man though he didn't always act like one and he certainly had never had any influence over his life choices. "One grilled cheese and an orange soda coming up," he turned towards the kitchen to prepare the order.

"If Mister's Sir's esteemed father could get the Jackal a bottle of water in place of the soda, it would be much appreciated." Ever since the shooting, he hadn't been able to stomach his previous beverage of choice. Mike cocked an eyebrow in surprise and nodding his head disappeared into the back.

Spinelli took advantage of the freedom of being entirely unsupervised to look around at his surroundings. It seemed like years rather than a little over a month since he had been in Kelly's. This was the last place he had stopped before the shooting. The diner was decked out for Christmas. There were red and green streamers everywhere and small flocked trees on each table. The juke box was quietly playing carols.

Spinelli frowned, something wasn't quite right and he couldn't tell what it was… Then he realized he was the only customer in the whole place. "How strange," he thought to himself. During the holidays Kelly's was a hub of holiday activities-meetings, office parties and impromptu get-togethers. Tonight it seemed almost forlorn without chattering groups of people scattered throughout its tables.

Mike returned with a bottle of water and a bowl of steaming hot clam chowder. "This will stick to your ribs," he announced setting it down on the counter.

Spinelli sighed inwardly as he looked at another portion of uninspiring food stuff set before him. He had been telling the truth when he had said he been craving one of Mike's famous grilled cheese sandwiches, but that was all he wanted. Still, he knew that he needed to eat more and that people were simply concerned about his health.

"Many gracious thanks," he said, picking up the spoon and beginning to eat. "The Jackal cannot help but comment that he has noticed a paucity of seasonal revelers partaking of Kelly's famed hospitality."

"Yeah," one of the things Spinelli really liked about Mike was that he always understood what he was saying, he never referred impatiently to 'Spinelli' speak. "It's been quiet for the past week or so. Then my current waitress didn't show up today, didn't even bother to call in or anything. Guess it doesn't really matter, considering there isn't exactly a rush going on."

"The Jackal had been given to understand that the streets of Port Charles were much safer than when last he previously ventured out on them."

"Absolutely," Mike couldn't resist a little paternal bragging, "Sonny has cleaned up the Russian problem. Everything has been quiet. I don't know where they all vanished to, but I say good riddance!"

"So why aren't the citizens of this fair city out celebrating the season in a traditional fashion?"

"I don't know," Mike reflected for a moment, realizing that Spinelli was right it was strange. People didn't seem to be out and about in their usual fashion. As a matter of fact, there were very few decorations up on private homes, even the secular city light display hadn't gone up this year. "Maybe it's the flu that's going around. A lot of people are looking pale and washed out and seem tired and listless. Marcie, my missing waitress, is one of them. I assumed she was just to sick to come into work."

Spinelli listened with alarm, that's all he needed, was for Jason to hear that there was some marauding strain of flu virus making the rounds of the city. He knew that it was quite likely if that happened he might not see the outside of the penthouse until February.

A timer dinged in the kitchen and Mike went back to get Spinelli's grilled cheese. Spinelli pushed the bowl of clam chowder away from him in anticipation of the one item of food he would gladly eat without any coaxing.

"Spinelli!" Lulu Spencer and had just come in and was smiling delightedly at him. "How are you? I heard about what happened and I have been meaning to come see you but things got away from me. It's been busy at Crimson what with all the holiday parties and then Johnny and I…Well, you know how it is."

"Indeed," Spinelli knew well that Lulu's path was littered with good intentions and he sincerely hoped that there was no truth to the hackneyed proverb about connecting such behavior to residence in hell.

He had long since made his peace with the fact that Lulu was always truly happy to see Spinelli when he was physically in front of her and that he occupied no other part of her consciousness at other times. He knew that was simply how she was, obsessively concerned with her current paramour of the moment, Johnny Zacchara for now, and her frequently absentee father and herself. There was a little left over room in her self-absorbed world for her brothers and her step-mother and that was about it.

She was selfish but not in the least malicious and he had once loved her deeply or at least thought he had. The residue of that affection combined with his inherently kind nature made any form of anger or reproach at her neglect of him while his very life hung in the balance inconceivable.

"The blonde one is looking exceptionally lovely tonight."

Lulu smiled her thanks, "I'm going to a party that Kate is throwing at the Metro Court." Under her white wool coat, she was wearing a sky blue couture cocktail dress with a halter neck. Her hair was upswept while dangling crystal earrings caught and flashed back the light. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked Spinelli.

"Tonight," he responded puzzled, what was different about tonight? He would probably spend another evening perusing the immortal bard or perhaps continue tweaking the logo for his and Stone Cold's new detective endeavor.

"It's Christmas Eve, Spinelli!" Lulu laughed, didn't he know? One look at his face told her he didn't. Remorse washed over her as she realized that Spinelli probably hadn't been paying much attention to calendars, facing your own mortality could distract you from many aspects of daily life. "It's not important… You're probably still recuperating."

"Yes, he is and I imagine you're not helping matters much!" Maxie had come in and caught the tale end of Lulu's statement. She too was dressed to kill.

Spinelli knew his jaw had dropped but he couldn't help himself. Maximista was always beautiful to him but tonight she had surpassed herself. She was wearing a bright red flapper dress that was covered with rhinestones and each time any part of her moved they sparkled making her incandescent. Maxie's lips were bright red and she was wrapped in a scarlet and black Spanish shawl of the finest weave. Her blond hair was bobbed and she wore a matching red headband around her forehead. She looked as though she had stepped directly out of a 1920's fashion engraving and Spinelli knew that was entirely the image she meant to project. Maximista's fashion sense was astounding and infallible.

"Are you okay, Spinelli?" Maxie asked him anxiously as she caught his stunned and appreciative stare.

"Um," he said clearing his throat and licking his lips in embarrassment at having been caught in such a dead giveaway of his adoration of all things Maximista. "The Jackal is just unused to being in the company of two such glamorous and beautiful blonde goddesses."

Both Lulu and Maxie had decided that the compliment was meant primarily for their individual selves and they preened accordingly. At that moment Mike came out with the long anticipated grilled cheese sandwich which Spinelli could no longer contemplate ingesting. His stomach, as it often did in Maxie's presence, was leap-frogging into his throat and he knew that he was incapable of swallowing a single bite.

"Here you go, Spinelli, eat up," Mike pushed the plate over towards him. He had understood the message that Jason had telegraphed to him that he should try and get the young man to eat as much as possible.

The arrival of the sandwich engaged the attention of both Maxie and Lulu. They simultaneously decided to vie for the role of most nurturing towards Spinelli.

"Yes, Spinelli," Maxie chirped, "You need to build up your strength. That sandwich looks delicious."

"You should eat, Spinelli," Lulu encouraged him. "I want you healthy enough to do something on New Year's Eve."

"New Year's Eve!" Maxie's voice sharpened, "Does Johnny know about your plans to ring in the New Year with Spinelli? Besides, he has a date with me!"

"The Jackal has plans with Maximista?" Spinelli's brow furrowed as he tried to remember setting up a New Year's date with his beloved. There really wasn't anything he would rather do but he couldn't recollect any such arrangement and besides wasn't she…?

"What about you and Matt?" Lulu asked Spinelli's question. "I thought the two of you were an item?"

"Ladies," Mike tried to intervene. He had seen this same scene play out too often between the two of them. He didn't think Spinelli was up to playing the role of the rope tonight in their tug of war. They ignored Mike as they each stood possessively on either side of an increasingly confused and anxious Spinelli and glared at one another.

"What's going on?" Nadine Crowell had entered the diner and immediately caught on to the tension in the atmosphere. One look at Spinelli told her how miserable he was and she stepped up to do battle for him. "What are you doing? Leave Spinelli alone. He shouldn't be stressed. He is still recovering from the shooting and his surgery."

"Shouldn't you be doing something with Nicholas tonight?" Maxie didn't even bother to look at Nadine, she was reserving all her venom for the staring war she was engaged in with Lulu. One thing was abundantly clear to her, Lulu Spencer wasn't getting anywhere near her Spinelli.

"Yes, as a matter of fact he is coming over to the hospital with Spencer for the Christmas party." Of the three women, only Nadine wasn't dressed in party finery. She had volunteered as she did every year, to work in pediatrics on Christmas Eve. She was wearing her scrubs and had come over to Kelly's for a quick dinner break.

"What are you doing here anyway, Maxie?" Lulu asked her, "Shouldn't you be meeting Matt at the Metro Court?"

All of a sudden, the idea of spending New Year's Eve with her convalescencing friend Damian Spinelli was the most important aspiration in Lulu's immediate future. She loved him and she wasn't letting Maxie Jones get a single one of her blood red talons anywhere near sweet, gentle Spinelli. "Johnny would understand," she told herself. After all, she was only trying to do a favor for a friend.

"Matt and I are meeting here since it's close to the hospital. What about you, Lulu, what are you doing here?" Maxie was practically hissing.

"Same thing," Lulu replied airily, "Meeting Johnny."

Each of them took a step closer to the other, effectively boxing Spinelli into a very sweet smelling death trap. He knew from past experience that the situation was fraught with emotion and could descend at any moment into an out and out cat fight.

Desperately, Spinelli tried to defuse the situation. "Fair ones, the Jackal is beyond flattered to think that either of you would wish to spend the last moments of the old year and the first fresh moments of the new in his presence. Still, it would seem likely that each of you has pre-existing engagements and the Jackal is entirely understanding of the precedence that such commitments must take. Perhaps a luncheon early in the new year with each of you could substitute…" He stopped it was no use, they were disregarding him entirely. The situation was now out of his control, as though it had ever been under it.

Without any further warning, it started. Lulu, her eyes flashing, reached over and yanked Maxie's headband off. She threw it on the floor and stomped on it, all the while grinning at Maxie. "Don't you know, you should always take one thing away from your outfit after you're done dressing, dear?" She said it sweetly, parroting the very fashion advice she had so often heard Maxie preach.

"Bitch!" screamed Maxie seeing red as she reached over a cowering Spinelli and slapped Lulu. "That is a vintage piece," she screeched and Spinelli thought he might have gone deaf.

"What about this?" Lulu had managed to get an edge of the exquisite Spanish shawl and was pulling it away from Maxie's shoulders. "Is this vintage too?"

An enraged Maxie pulled on the shawl trying to keep it out of Lulu's clutches. The antique, delicate fabric ripped and she overbalanced knocking into Spinelli. He was pushed back into the counter as the stool slid out from under him and he crashed onto the floor. He hit the ground hard, his head banged against the counter and his incompletely healed incision burned with fire.

Nadine pushed away Maxie and Lulu and crouched down next to Spinelli trying to ascertain the damage done him. Lulu and Maxie stared in stunned silence at what they had done.

At that moment the door opened once again and Jason entered. He stared in horrified disbelief at the scene before him. Spinelli lay recumbent on the floor with Nadine checking his vitals. Both Maxie and Lulu stood there looking down at him with guilt writ large on their faces.

"What the hell did you do to him?" he roared, fear and fury warring for dominance in his voice. He rushed over and knelt down next to Nadine. "Spinelli, are you all right?" He asked trying to keep his voice from trembling.

"Yes, Stone Cold," Spinelli opened his eyes and groaned as the light hit his eyes, "The Jackal simply had the wind knocked out of him."

Jason and Nadine, each taking an arm, helped Spinelli up and moved him over to sit at a nearby table. "Is he all okay?" Jason asked apprehensively as she took a pen light out of her shirt pocket and shined the light into Spinelli's eyes.

Nadine lifted up Spinelli's sweater and t-shirt to take a quick look at his incision. She was relieved to see that it had healed enough that the impact of the fall hadn't caused it to tear open. She looked up at Jason and smiled reassuringly, "He's all right, just a little shaken up. He has a small bump on his head where he hit it but his pupils are equal and reactive to light. I think you should just take him home and let him rest tonight and he probably will feel fine in the morning."

"Thank you," Jason said to her, grateful for her compassionate and professional presence.

Now that his immediate concern for Spinelli had been alleviated he turned his attention back to Lulu and Maxie, who had been standing in unaccustomed and anxious silence during Nadine's examination of Spinelli. "What were you thinking?" he asked angrily stalking over to the two young women.

Lulu and Maxie had each been on the receiving end of Jason's disapproval but never before had they faced the full force of his unleashed temper. They quailed before the anger that sparked in his eyes as he glared at them. "He was shot! He had major surgery and is still recovering. You, Lulu," he turned his icy gaze on her and she gulped, "You couldn't even be bothered to visit him once in the hospital or since he's been home."

Then he focused his wrath on Maxie, "You claim to care about him so much. Yet, when you visit him while he's sleeping all you can do is talk about your own problems. Then you say you'll come back which you never do while he waits day in and day out for you to show up." Maxie's eyes filled with tears as she recognized the truth in Jason's reprimand.

"Stone Cold," Spinelli tried to intercede, "The Jackal is grateful for your concern on his behalf but it isn't necessary. He knows that what occurred here was an accident, a byproduct of the disagreement between Maximista and Fair Lulu."

"Disagreement!" Mike snorted, "It was an out and out brawl. They were fighting over Spinelli like dogs with a bone."

Jason wasn't finished. He wasn't as forgiving as his roommate. "Until you can each stop being so selfish and stupid, I want you to leave Spinelli alone. When you can think about him and what he needs, rather than just yourselves, then you can see him. Otherwise, stay away!" He turned his back on them with finality and went back to Spinelli.

Jason pulled out his phone and called a taxi to come get them. Spinelli wasn't up to walking back to the penthouse. Jason could have gone home and gotten a vehicle but he wasn't going to leave him unguarded even for five minutes in the presence of these idiot females.

Nadine ordered her dinner to go and with a smile for Spinelli and Jason wished everyone a "Merry Christmas."

Mike went back into the kitchen while the other four waited in an awkward silence. Lulu and Maxie were abashed and ashamed at what they had done and were more than a little fearful of once more arousing Jason's ire. Still, they exchanged sideways glances full of accusation, each one being sure that the entire situation was the sole fault of the other.

Spinelli was uncharacteristically silent. His head and his incision both ached and he was depressed at Stone Cold's moratorium on any contact with the blonde ones. This outing hadn't turned out anything like he had envisioned.

Jason was usually comfortable with silence but Nadine's parting reminder of the date had discommoded him. He hadn't realized that tonight was Christmas Eve. He rubbed his hand tiredly across his eyes and thought about Elizabeth and the boys. He knew they would be spending the evening at the hospital at the children's Christmas party. Then tomorrow would be all the excitement of opening gifts and visiting with families and friends. He sighed, he was never going to be a part of such celebrations and he would be better off not thinking about them.

After an eternity of waiting, the taxi arrived and Jason helped a stiff Spinelli up and they headed out the back door. Mike handed them several paper bags saying, "Some Christmas treats," as he patted Spinelli on the shoulder.

Spinelli smiled at him and ducked his head shyly, he turned and gave a sad wave to Lulu and Maxie who were watching his departure with mournful eyes. "The Jackal wishes everyone Season's Greetings."

All over Port Charles restrained Christmas parties were taking place. There were many inexplicable absences in the families and groups gathered together. Indeed, the children's party at the hospital was more sparsely attended than anyone could ever remember being the case.

Jasper Jax was there reading the traditional Christmas story to the assembled children. Also in attendance were his estranged wife, Carly Corinthos Jax, and her young son, Morgan Corinthos. Elizabeth Webber had come with her two sons-Cameron and Jake. Nadine had met up with Nicholas Cassadine and his son Spencer, both of whom were wearing turtlenecks, they were pale and tired looking. Doctor Robin Scorpio and her husband Dr. Patrick Drake were there with their infant daughter, Emma, proudly introducing her to a Port Charles Christmas tradition. Dr. Monica Quartermaine, Jason's mother, was also present though internally mourning the absence of her husband and daughter Emily.

Meanwhile, over at the Metro Court Hotel, Kate Howard's intimate cocktail party for two hundred and fifty guest was off to a rocky start. A large number of the wait staff had simply not shown up and many of the ones that were there seemed to be exhibiting flu-like symptoms. Kate was torn between the equally unsavory choices of making all her guests ill or having no servers at her party. She compromised by sending home the ones who seemed sickest and keeping on a skeletal crew to whom she promised bonuses if they managed to be effective and efficient.

When a disheveled Maxie and Lulu, who was sporting a bruise on her cheek, finally arrived, she immediately detached them from their dates and, over their protests, commandeered them into service. "Just look at it as taking one for the team," she told them firmly while eyeing their respective appearance deficits. "Care to tell me what this is all about?" she asked gesturing at Lulu's cheek and Maxie's tousled hair.

The two girls glowered at one another with enmity, but when they turned back to Kate they presented a united front, "It's nothing, Kate," Maxie said breezily, "Just tell us what you need us to do." Their employer had made it crystal clear that she would tolerate absolutely no fighting or backstabbing amongst her two assistants. They knew, especially with the mood she was in tonight, it would mean termination for both of them if she had heard about their physical altercation at Kelly's.

Kate was in the midst of trying to salvage a big band minus half its musicians and its conductor, when she saw Sonny Corinthos enter the ball room. She couldn't believe the brazen effrontery of her ex-fiancée. He should have had the good taste to recognize that his invitation to the party would have been rescinded the moment he married Claudia Zacchara.

"Of course, when had Sonny ever exhibited good taste or manners?" She thought to herself bitterly as she eyed the new Mrs. Corinthos. Claudia was dressed in a skin tight, shiny, crimson (Kate was sure the hue of the dress was meant to be a pointed reminder of who had won and who had lost) dress that plunged to her navel in the front and down to the top of her coccyx in the rear. Additionally, it was slit up both legs to the thigh. A pair of "fuck me" stiletto heels in the same color as the dress completed the ensemble.

"Charming," Kate thought to herself as she looked down at her understated designer black gown over which she was wearing a beaded, high-necked bolero jacket. "Well, Sonny has made his bed and I am sure he has been doing more than lying in it!" She felt tears pricking against the back of her eyes.

However, Kate Howard never lost her composure in public. So, she tilted her head up and went to receive the love of her life and his new slut of a wife into the ruination that was her party.

By the time Spinelli and Jason returned to the penthouse, Spinelli was feeling the effects of his fall and the confrontation between the two blondes. He was emotionally drained and physically hurting. When Jason offered him a pain pill, he didn't demur and then he said he was going upstairs for a nap.

He woke up several hours later feeling hungry since he had never eaten the much anticipated grilled cheese sandwich. He saw that it was just after midnight-it was Christmas! He crept out of his room not wanting to wake Jason but when he got to the top of the stairs he saw he needn't have bothered

Jason was sitting on the couch, he had made a fire and had a beer in his hand. From somewhere he had produced several strands of white lights that he had arranged over the mantelpiece and around the French doors. The room looked other worldly, unlike its usual plain façade.

"Stone Cold," Spinelli spoke quietly not wanting to startle his friend. "The Jackal doesn't wish to intrude if you would rather be alone…"

Jason used his beer bottle to gesture for him to come downstairs. "I was hoping you would wake up, I wanted some company."

Spinelli was astonished, his mentor was mellow indeed, for Stone Cold to actively seek company…"Well, maybe," he ruminated to himself, "Jason wanting companionship instead of solitude is a Christmas miracle-just as they say animals can speak at midnight on Christmas Eve."

Jason was entirely unaware that his request for Spinelli's company was being treated as a marvel rather than the ordinary need of a man wanting to be around someone else in order to keep his demons at bay. "Are you hungry?"

"Indeed, I am, Stone Cold!" He responded with an enthusiasm that surprised and heartened Jason.

"Well, I looked inside those bags that Mike sent home with us. He put in enough food to last several meals. There's turkey, ham, stuffing, gravy, chocolate pie-I can't even remember it all. What are you interested in?"

"All of it, Stone Cold, can we put all of it out? The Jackal finds himself suddenly ravenous."

"Really? Absolutely, we can have all of it!" Jason got up to go to the kitchen, he was thrilled that the dam to Spinelli's appetite seemed to have been ruptured.

Just as they were sitting down to their impromptu feast, it started snowing heavily. "Look Stone Cold, a white Christmas!" Spinelli sounded like a little kid.

Jason suddenly felt very fulfilled, very content. In his life, family had always been more of case of making one where you could find it rather than what was dictated by the bonds of biology. He was extremely grateful for the presence of this empathetic, loving, thoughtful, and kind young man in his life-he no longer could imagine his world without him.

When they had eaten their fill, and tonight even Jason couldn't complain about Spinelli's food intake, they took their pieces of pie and went to sit next to the fireplace. Jason reached over to the coffee table and picked up a legal envelope that was lying on it. "Here," he said handing it to Spinelli.

Curious, Spinelli opened it and squinting in the dim light he quickly perused the two sets of papers contained within. Unable to believe what he was reading, he looked up at Jason openmouthed. Jason gave him a half smile and nodded his head slightly as he scooped another forkful of pie into his mouth.

Spinelli was grinning from ear to ear. "It's really happening then Stone Cold? We're partners for real?" He was beside himself with excitement and he jumped up from the couch, almost dropping his pie on the floor but Jason reached out in time to catch it before it fell. "Oops! Sorry, Stone Cold, the Jackal will return posthaste!" He was gone up the staircase, supporting his tender abdomen in one hand and trying not to jostle it as he went as fast as he could.

Jason picked up the discarded papers and after looking at them once more returned them to the envelope. The first set of documents was a partnership contract for the establishment of the Morgan-Spinelli detective agency. The second was a deed to a waterfront property. Jason had found and purchased an old warehouse with a great view of the harbor, he intended to renovate it into an office complex and that is where the newly established offices of Morgan-Spinelli would be.

Spinelli came dashing back down the stairs as he had done a million times before and Jason had to bite his lip to keep from telling him to be careful. He knew he needed to be a little less overbearing with the kid and he was going to try starting now, but it wouldn't be easy!

"Stone Cold!" Spinelli was standing in front of him holding out a plain brown box, pride was written all over his face. "I designed it and then sent it out and had them printed, they came just the other day, I didn't know if I should show them to you, in case…well, in case you had changed your mind or…forgotten. But you didn't! You didn't forget!" Spinelli was beaming and panting with exertion.

Jason took the box from his outstretched hands and when he lifted the lid and saw what was inside he was enormously touched. Spinelli had designed a logo for their agency and then had stationary and business cards printed up. He looked up and said sincerely, "They're perfect Spinelli, just perfect."

Jason knew in his heart that he had never made a better decision than to go into partnership with Spinelli. The future was suddenly something to look forward to rather than just to be endured. He looked up at his brother and let a rare full smile cross his features. "Merry Christmas, Spinelli!"

"Merry Christmas, Jason!"