When Michael went to school that morning he was hoping for an escape from the turmoil going on at home, unfortunately it was apparent that everyone knew who he was. He wasn't sure which was worse the people whispering behind his back or the strangers coming up to him offering sympathy.

"Just ignore it." Kevin advised him to yet another 'that's him' look in the hallway.

"I'm trying, it's just… did they hold an assembly here or something?" Michael questioned.

"The funeral was held at this church, Michael, and when the ex-wife of the local mob kingpin goes missing it's not long until all the news channels are reporting it. Nobody is trying to judge…"

"This is high school. Are you kidding, everyone is judging."

"Hi Michael." A freshman girl came up to him. "I just wanted to say that I was sorry. Your mom, she was great. I had my last birthday at the MetroCourt and to celebrate she gave a complimentary cake and sparkling cider."

Michael nodded as she walked off. "See, like that, what am I supposed to say? 'Thank you' or 'yeah, I thought she was pretty great, too'? I don't even know that girl."

They walked the hall a little further before being stopped again. "I'm glad to see you back, Michael. I know it's hard. A few months ago my grandpa died and it took awhile, but if you want the number to a good grief counselor…" The girl offered.

"That's it, enough!" Michael shouted at anyone standing around while slamming the side of his fist into the locker closest to him. "I don't want I'm sorrys, I don't need to hear little stories about the one time you met her or verses of encouragement, and I certainly don't require the aid of grief counselor! For the love of God, just leave me alone!"

"Okay, okay, just everyone go." Kevin encouraged the bigger crowd growing. "Please?"

"Michael, can you come with me?" Father Coates requested after over-hearing the outburst. "You're not in any trouble."

He followed Father Coates down to the chapel trying to disregard the onlookers that passed by.

"Just take a moment to yourself, I'll be right back." The Father promised.

Michael did as asked; he shut his eyes and let his breathing calm. He hadn't realized just how tense he had gotten. It had been awhile since his impulse control had been in issue.

"Any better?" Father Coates asked him while handing Michael a glass of water.

"Yeah, I guess I didn't realize just how hard it was going to be. I was probably only imagining half of it." He admitted while tears fell down his cheeks.

"I could talk to all of your afternoon teachers if this isn't the right time for you."

"I wouldn't know where to go. I didn't realize just how much she held our family together, and I don't know if I can do that. He shouldn't have left; this was too much…"

"You know, Michael, your mom wasn't superwoman. She didn't do everything by herself; she had help. It's okay to break down and lean on someone else. God is usually a good place to start, but you have your friends and family support if you need it."

"They are all going through their own…"

"That's okay. Empathy is a powerful thing. There's a reason support groups are so popular. It's the people that know what you've been through that can understand you the most."

"Don't tell me you're going to refer me over to one now?" Michael replied.

"Not if you are not interested."

"The problem with that is that the only person that understands what I'm thinking right now is half way across the globe. You're going to think I'm crazy, but I don't think she's dead; I also don't want to tell Morgan that because if I'm wrong then it's only going to hurt him more."

"I'm not going to call you crazy for having faith. It's faith that allows us believe the unbelievable; to believe that a world can be created in six days, that a man could build an ark that hosted two of every creature, that a carpenter could be the son of God die on a cross and come back to life three days later." Father Coates listed. "It's the same part of you that can believe in all that, that holds out hope for your mother's return. God is trying to tell you something, just listen to your heart."

Michael nodded in agreement. "Is it okay if I take a moment here before going home?"

"Take the time you need."

***********

"Where are we going?" Morgan asked his big brother.

"I told you, I'm not telling until we get there." Dante replied with a big grin.

"Oh come on, we're not even in Port Charles anymore." Morgan whined.

"Gees, inpatient much? We're almost there. Just one more turn." He said as he made a turn into a sporting complex.

"What is this?" Morgan asked as they went into park.

"I'll show you." Dante assured him. They walked through the entrance to an indoor batting cage. Netting was lined up separating each station as a cannon shot off rounds for each participant.

"This is so cool!" Morgan beamed. "Can I try it?"

"Of course, did you really think I brought you here to watch?" Dante went to the registration desk to order a few rounds while Morgan checked out the bat tray to find one with a decent swing. The instructor came out shortly with a helmet for Morgan to wear and some safety guidelines to follow.

"Would you like me to help you out the first couple of hits?" The instructor asked once Morgan was set.

"Sure." Morgan replied.

"I put it on a slow speed. I just want to see you swing a couple times first."

Morgan stood in position watching the cannon throw the ball in his direction. As it came towards him he swung with all his might connecting with the ball and hitting in left field.

"Good, very good." The instructor called out. "But I want you to wait just a little longer. You're bat should be parallel the pitcher's mound as you hit to send it straight out into the field."

Morgan nodded his head and waited for the next ball to fly towards him. As suggested he waited longer and unfortunately missed the ball because of it.

"Don't worry about it; try it again." Dante encouraged him.

The instructor came over to line up the hit for him. "Now you just want to wait until you see it come right about…. Here." He said allowing Morgan to take the swing.

"Nice!" Dante praised as the ball flew out.

"Now this time all by yourself." The instructor stepped back; as he did Morgan swung again a little harder bringing it further out. The next few he did the same. As Dante watched the smile grow on the boy's face he felt tears falling from his eyes.

The instructor backed off joining Dante from behind the net. "Did he get a day off school?"

"Yeah; he's kind of going through a hard time right now." Dante responded.

"I'm sorry to hear that; you're brother seems like a great kid. He is your brother…?"

"Yes, he is my brother." He responded still unsure how it took so long to get to the point where he saw it clearly.

**********

"That's him, right there." Kristina pointed out the boy.

"Are you ready for this?" Sam asked her to which she nodded and got out of the car.

"How in the world did you get Alexis to agree to this?" Lucky asked her.

"Mom might have been a little distracted." Sam admitted. "And I might have left out the part where Krissy would be helping out on a case."

Lucky shook his head. "No good." He simply said.

Kristina took out her cell phone fiddling with some buttons as she ran into an unsuspecting Damon Katsaros.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry." She scrambled to help him pick up his school books. He knelt down next to her to help.

"You should be careful with those things, they can be deadly." He smirked as their eyes met.

"Yeah, I'll remember that." She smiled. "My name is Kristina."

"I'm Damon. So Kristina, who was so important that you risked your life attempting to talk to?" He asked while assisting her with a hand to her feet.

"My sister; we were checking out the area and I apparently wondered off too far. I don't suppose you could point me in the direction of the library?"

"Well, the closest library is down that street over there." Damon pointed out for her. "But what you're probably looking for is the Briarton Griggs Campus library which is about a half a mile down the road."

"Right, Briarton Griggs…?" She responded wondering why that name sounded so familiar to her.

"It's our sister school; you know, when we have school dances and such. You should definitely apply." He replied. His smile sent a shiver down her spine.

"Let me guess, top rated in the area?"

"Well, no. Brewster is top, but Briarton is a close second. My aunt went there and seemed to do okay for herself. She went directly from there to Harvard Law. The kids here tend to be the first picked for Harvard, Yale, Princeton…"

"Only the best; so was it your Aunt that inspired you to go the Ivy League route." Kristina questioned.

"Yeah, I mean mostly. I knew it was a good school, and I suppose since I was always compared to him I just thought I'd attempt to follow… complete what he wasn't able to."

"What do you mean? Who?"

"My uncle; his name was Lars Christian. He went to school here, and was about a year away from graduating when he disappeared. Legend has it that he was murdered because of a family feud and scorned lover."

"Wow." Kristina responded with wide eyes.

"I didn't mean to scare you." Damon replied.

"No, it's not that. I have a few creepy family legends myself."

"Oh really? Does this mean we can make time to compare notes?"

"I hope so." She blushed. "I mean, I need to meet up with my sister, but if you wanted to put your number in my blackberry I wouldn't object."

Damon reached for the cell at the invitation typing his name and number into the contact list. "Now, of course, you know I'm giving you the power of the first move."

She nodded. "I'll call; it was down this way, right?"

"Yeah." He replied watching her wander off.

***********

Jerry was startled awake at the sound of stumbling in the other room. "Cora?" He yelled out as he ran out after noticing the empty bed next to him. Carly was steadying herself on the edge of the couch. "What are you doing?"

"I was just coming back from the bathroom. I didn't mean to wake you." She replied noticing the five am hour. Jerry walked over to help her to the couch.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you held on to your stubbornness." He replied putting his hand on her shoulder causing her to shutter. "I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"No; I should be the one that is sorry. I know what I'm supposed to feel. It's just that there's this disconnect. Even my name, it just doesn't sound right, nothing is clicking. I mean, who am I?"

"I told you…"

"Yeah, but more than that, you said I was stubborn. What else? Did I work for a living? Did I have any hobbies? What about collections? I doubt I'd be one into coins, but maybe shoes. I could see me collecting shoes, or handbags." Carly searched.

"You liked shopping; the more extravagant the better. You're smart; very business savvy."

"I'm a business woman? I would have thought it was something more creative…"

"I didn't say it wasn't." Jerry argued. "You had owned an extremely successful interior design business."

"I couldn't have been all that good if I designed this." She said looking around.

"We had just moved in; you had yet to work your magic." He smirked. "What's wrong?" He picked up on her disappointment.

"I was just hoping that hearing this would spark a memory or something."

"Did the pictures help at all?" He questioned.

She shook her head no. "Those people might as well be total strangers." She started to tear up.

"You don't need to push it." He attempted to sooth her. "Here, why don't you take your medication?"

As he held up the pill box she brought her arm up to toss it aside. "Why bother?"

"Cora, you need that."

"Why? You said I'm dying anyway, right? Why prolong the agony?"

"You don't mean that." Jerry objected. "The last thing we want is for the tumor to grow; there's always hope that medicine will find a cure sooner than later."

"For what, Vic? What am I fighting for? A husband whose heart breaks every time I jump when he touches me? A family that consists of complete strangers? A dream job that pounding headaches prevent me from doing?"

"This will help with that pain." Jerry insisted picking up the pills.

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head.

"It does matter!" He argued. "Please? We'll build from here. It'll be okay. You just can't give up; it's not in you. You've never…"