Chapter Text
Monday, July 8, 2024 – 11:12 a.m.
The Fourth of July was the first day that Jake’s punishment was lifted.
He appreciated the irony. A day of supposed freedom — for a select few, anyway. He certainly doesn’t feel free in his own life. Not when the day also marked one month since the best thing that ever happened to him went up in smoke.
Jake spent the morning watching Instagram stories of Georgie, Rocco, and Charlotte at the Metro Court pool. He knew he could call his other friends in his grade to hang out in the park. One or two even texted to see if he wanted to join them. He just lied and said he was spending the day with his family.
He wasn’t. He didn’t want to see anyone. After a strict routine of school, soccer, work, and home — then therapy, soccer, work, and home — Jake is not sure that he remembers what it feels like to get excited about summer. Not when he thought that his summer was going to be defined by spending as much time as possible with Charlotte.
Those plans are gone now. So is Charlotte.
Except she isn’t, and it looks as though she’s having fun. Jake sees her stories sometimes of riding and doing things with her father or friends. Jake tries muting her account, but that lasts maybe for an hour. Not only is Jake too curious, but he feels that he doesn’t have any right to his curiosity or sadness. All of it is his fault, not Charlotte’s.
If he were smarter, he would delete the app all-together. He hasn’t attempted that play.
Today is more of the same. He just finished his therapy session and is standing in the hospital lobby debating on where he will go next. He can go home or to Bobbie’s for something to eat. Jake’s mind wanders to the main topic of his latest session.
“This is good, Jake. We’re getting to the root of why we’re here,” Dr. Ambrosio says.
Jake eyes the man with some degree of skepticism.
“We have?” Jake says. The psychiatrist nods.
So it’s not to medicate me or prevent me from breaking the law? Jake thinks.
He swears the doctor must be capable of reading his mind, because the man’s lip twitches.
Or perhaps Jake doesn’t have as good of a Poker face as he was led to believe.
“We already discussed how spray painting your dad’s warehouse gave you an adrenaline rush and somewhere to put your feelings of betrayal,” Dr. Ambrosio says. “Admitting it was also the only way you felt he could hear you is tremendous progress.” The older man appraises Jake. “The next step would be telling him this.”
“No way,” Jake says. “He wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s my understanding from what you’ve described that he’s a good listener.”
“He’s quiet. He hears people out, but he doesn’t change,” Jake says. “That’s not a good listener. That’s not even a good dad.”
Jake’s voice shakes a little on the last part. Dr. Ambrosio just hums.
“He has been trying to reach out more?” Dr. Ambrosio says. “He’s come around your house to see you and you’ve refused to speak to him.”
***
Wednesday, June 26, 2024 – 2:09 p.m.
“Hi, Jason.”
His mother sounds tired. It’s a random afternoon and no one is in the house but him and her. He heard the doorbell ring and almost went to answer it until she beat him. Now, Jake sits at the top of the staircase and rests his head against the wall.
“Elizabeth,” his father replies. Jake hears the door close. “Is Jake around?”
“Jake!” Jake closes his eyes. “Your father is here.”
There’s silence. It’s immature. Jake knows that it only makes things more tense between him and his mother. It isn’t the first time either. She tries to encourage him to spend time with his father, even if it’s filled with meaningless chatter. Or no chatter at all.
“He’s asked about taking you out on his boat once you’re no longer grounded,” she once said.
Yeah, Jake had thought. Because that’s what they need. Anger and open water for miles.
Jake even heard the doubt in his mother’s voice when she pitched the idea.
“Jake!” she calls again.
The teen opens his eyes. Clearing his throat so it doesn’t crack, Jake replies, “No, Mom.”
He’s met with silence. Then, after some time, a sigh.
“I don’t know what to do,” his mother admits, clearly assuming he returned to his room.
“Are things still tense between you two?” his father asks.
“Sort of?” Jake wishes he could see the expression on her face. Though maybe it’s for the best that he can’t. For all he knows, she’s disgusted by him. “It’s like … It’s like I was studying for the past seventeen years for the biggest mom exam of my life. It’s finally here, and I failed it. I failed our son.”
One tear falls. Then another. It’s a steady progression from there. Jake doesn’t bother to stop it. He gets upset so much easier these days. Not that it’s so easy to compare to before. The past few years were one upsetting event after the next with intermittent moments of happiness.
Charlotte, Jake thinks. Charlotte was your happiness.
“You and I both know that’s not true. You’re not the parent that failed. Hell, Jake was right to say that I haven’t even been a parent to him.”
The acknowledgment brings Jake no feeling of satisfaction.
“You’re trying.” His father must give her a look, because his mother defensively says, “What?”
“You and I both know trying isn’t always enough. Look at Alan.”
“It’s not the same,” his mother disagrees.
“You’re right. Alan was flawed, but he was always there. He always tried. I pushed him away, but it was because he cared too much. I have given Jake every reason to believe I don’t care enough or at all. If I believed in karma, I’d say this is that.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you know that’s BS. Saves me a whole speech.” Joking, Jake thinks flatly. She’s joking with him. “Do you want some coffee? I was about to make some before I head to the hospital.”
“No, that’s all right,” his father says. “Before I go, though … how are the meds working for him?”
Jake bites his tongue. Anger flares up inside of him.
You did this to me, he thinks. You’re the reason why I’m so f*cked up.
“There are side effects,” his mother replies. “Irritability.” Jake purses his lips. “Some fatigue and intermittent antsiness. But then there are other nights when I hear him pacing in his room.”
“What does his doctor say?”
“Nothing came back flagged in his blood work. He’ll keep monitoring Jake for any changes, but that’s common for teens on this kind of medication.”
Nothing about this should be common. Nothing.
***
Monday, July 8, 2024 – 11:15 a.m.
Those visits were frequent and exactly what Jake wanted months ago.
It’s too little, too late. Which is essentially what he told Dr. Ambrosio during his session.
“What’s the point?” Jake asks. “He knew it was me the whole time. He didn’t do anything to talk to me or stop me. He just ‘protected me’ in his own backwards way.”
“It’s interesting you put it that way,” Dr. Ambrosio remarks. “‘His way.’” Dr. Ambrosio does not elaborate further. Jake is certain that the doctor will “store that one for winter” and bring it up whenever Jake least expects it. “I can only advise you on what I feel may help you and your relationship with your dad. The choice is ultimately yours. I do think that speaking with him directly and explaining your perspective will, if nothing else, provide you with a sense of autonomy. And that it will help you continue to move forward from your past choices.”
Given that Jake is no longer grounded, he no longer needs a chaperone to and from sessions. Though his mother made it clear to him that she would check with Dr. Ambrosio to ensure that he does not skip any appointments. It’s almost as though doing that once with his old therapist marked him for life.
“Jake,” his mother says, barging into the exam room. “Grandma Monica said you were in here and that you ran out of your appointment with Dr. Massey. What’s going on?”
Jake swears he saw that memory in his mother’s eyes when she warned him.
Trust, she had continued. It needs to be rebuilt.
Jake suspects that Rome was built quicker than rebuilding his mother’s diminished trust in him.
He stares at the lobby’s exit.
Make a choice, he thinks.
“I do think that speaking with him directly and explaining your perspective will, if nothing else, provide you with a sense of autonomy. And that it will help you continue to move forward from your past choices.”
Jake walks out of the hospital with purpose.
***
Monday, July 8, 2024 – 11:32 a.m.
Charlotte glances at her phone screen.
She still has roughly thirty minutes until she meets her papa for lunch. They are meeting at Surf Café, but Charlotte realized that she forgot her sunglasses at home. It’s just a quick detour and she wants to grab them now since she’s meeting up with Georgie and some other girl friends to hang out at the Metro Court pool afterwards.
There is no car in the driveway, so she figures her papa isn’t home. She unlocks the front door, slips into the house, and heads up to her bedroom. Grabbing her sunglasses, she is about to leave again when she hears her papa’s distinctive baritone.
“I don’t care how nervous you are. We have an agreement.”
Charlotte hesitates at the door. She hides out of sight but close enough that she can listen to his conversation. It only takes her a minute to realize no one else is there. Her papa’s on the phone.
“This isn’t a negotiation,” her papa says, with an edge. She feels the hairs on her arms stand to attention. “We are so close to achieving our plan. He’s unraveling more and more by the day.”
Charlotte waits for more context, eventually hearing him say: “Enough. I’ve heard enough. Don’t think I can’t find someone else who will do the same for me without all these headaches. Do not call me again. I am the one who calls you.”
Her papa’s subsequent laugh is high and cold.
“You can make all the empty threats you want,” her papa says. “What do you think the PCPD or a medical review board would say to you tampering with a patient’s prescription?” There’s a long pause. “Better yet, what do you think Sonny Corinthos would do to you if he got wind that you’ve messed with his bipolar meds?”
Charlotte nearly slaps her mouth in an effort to conceal her gasp. She hears her papa tut.
“Believe me,” her papa says. “I’m nothing if not a survivor. I would be the one to come out of this looking like a hero. Sonny would never know of my involvement in his fall as Port Charles’ head kingpin.”
Head whirling, Charlotte waits for more. When she doesn’t hear it, she steps out of her bedroom and releases a shaky breath. Her papa looks up sharply from his phone and stares at her.
“Mon petit,” he greets her, still not sounding quite like himself. “Where did … I didn’t know you were here. I thought we were meeting at the café.”
“Clearly,” Charlotte croaks. She watches the color drain from her papa’s face. “I’m gonna go.”
She rushes down the hall. She’s not sure if she hears her heart thundering or the sound of her papa chasing after her. She realizes it must be both once she feels his hand on her shoulder. Charlotte wrenches it out of his grasp.
“Charlotte —”
“I can’t believe you!” Charlotte screams. “What have you done?”
“Charlotte, what did you hear?” her papa asks, anxiously.
“Plenty,” Charlotte says, slightly hysterical. “Enough to know I’ve spent the last month and a half mad at the wrong person. God,” Charlotte says, shaking her head in disbelief. “All this time, you listened as I ranted about how Jake’s actions affected Rocco and weren’t fair to him because of how they affected his dad and grandpa. Meanwhile, you’re … you …”
Her papa is silent as he waits for her to continue. That somehow just makes it worse.
“You’re reverse poisoning Rocco’s grandpa,” Charlotte finishes. “You are literally responsible for f*cking with his mental health.”
“Watch your language.” Charlotte actually bursts out laughing.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. “Saying ‘f*ck’ is far worse than driving someone to mania or paranoia. How could you do this to another person? How could you do this to me?”
“Charlotte, whatever you think you heard doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it doesn’t!” Charlotte shrieks. “It touches every part of my life. Rocco is my younger brother. I told Mom I would take care of him. And what affects him and his family also affects Dante. The one who took me in when you left me without a single parent.”
“I thought we moved past that.”
“And now you’re going to leave me without a parent again!” Charlotte rages. She paces the floor of their living room. “Or do you just think this is a one-off? That just because I heard you, no one else will, because you will be more careful? This will blow up in your face, Papa. I’ll lose you and then I’ll lose Rocco, because of you. How will I look him in the eye knowing what you’ve done?”
“That won’t be a problem,” her papa says, calmly. “Because I’ve made a decision.” He stares at her with sad eyes. “You are spending the last two months of summer at sleepaway camp.” She opens her mouth in protest. “And then you’re returning in the fall to boarding school.”
Charlotte feels her world fall out from beneath her.
“No,” she breathes. Her papa nods. More fervently, she says, “Papa, you can’t do this.”
“It’s been decided,” her papa says, with an air of finality. She doesn’t recognize the man in front of her. “I’ll make the necessary arrangements and settle things for an early departure tomorrow morning. You may call your friends to come see you off, but you are not to leave this house.”
Her papa walks out of the room, but Charlotte stays rooted to her spot. Her legs shake beneath her and she tries steadying her breathing with little success. The ringing in her ears is reaching an all-time fever pitch. So many emotions race through her mind.
Anger. Devastation. Shock. There are plenty of thoughts as well. Why would her papa hurt Mr. Corinthos in such an awful way? He has never shown any outward malice toward the man. In fact, Charlotte was under the distinct impression that they were on decent enough terms. Why would her papa risk everything to ruin another human being in such an unforgivable way?
Those thoughts are loud. Yet one, in particular, is louder than the rest. A single word. A name.
Jake.
***
Monday, July 8, 2024 – 11:40 a.m.
Jake experiences a few false starts before he finds his father.
He wasn’t at Bobbie’s or at the warehouse. He is about to give up on the endeavor when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Jake looks to his right just in time to see his father walk into a nearby apartment complex.
Making a split second decision, Jake looks both ways before jogging across the street. It is with great luck that someone leaves in time to let Jake slip inside the otherwise locked building. But he soon realizes that he doesn’t know who or where his father is visiting here.
Jake glances at the directory. It’s full of names that he doesn’t recognize. He’s about to give up when he realizes that there is no name beside Apartment 2D.
That has to mean something, Jake thinks. He takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches the second floor, which is technically the third level if you include the ground floor apartments. Jake glances around the corner and sees Apartment 2D. Luck continues to stay on his side when he notices that the door is slightly ajar.
Cross-ventilation, Jake assumes. The apartments are relatively new, but the current heatwave makes running the AC all day an extremely expensive decision.
Jake carefully approaches the door and, staying out of sight, listens for voices. He soon realizes that his father is visiting what must be Commissioner Anna Devane’s new place.
“I need your word that you will not use anything,” his father says. “That whatever I say stays between us.”
“Of course,” Commissioner Devane says. “This is the FBI’s case, not mine. I’m under no obligation to act on any information that you would give me. Not that I would, anyway.”
The FBI? Jake thinks, furrowing his brows.
Then Jake hears exactly what the FBI has to do with everything. He listens as his father tells the commissioner how the FBI has a recording of Carly Spencer at a meeting with the other heads of organized crime families saying that she is in charge of the Corinthos organization. How she apparently said she controls all the business that goes through the Corinthos territory.
Jake continues to listen as his father explains how all of that happened during the time that they thought Sonny Corinthos was dead. How he was meant to go to the meeting, but he got shot — Jake doesn’t even know exactly when that happened or the finer details, but he doesn’t have a moment to focus on that right now.
“Why didn’t you call the FBI’s bluff?” Commissioner Devane asks. “You know, let them proceed against Carly. She has an excellent lawyer. She may well have beat the charges.”
Hold on, Jake thinks. Feeling himself filled with renewed rage, he wonders, Is that where he’s been the entire time? Is that why he stayed away?
Could his father have prioritized Carly Spencer over everything else? Has his father spent all this time working with the FBI to protect Carly at the expense of his actual family and kids?
Yes, of course. Jake catches his father suggesting he couldn’t take that risk without a guarantee that Carly would get off for her involvement. He hears his father from under water as he explains thinking how the whole thing would take three or six months.
As if any amount of time thinking he would never see his father again isn’t unbearable.
The next thing Jake hears is his father saying that he doesn’t want Carly to know the truth.
“Why not?” Commissioner Devane inquires. “She’s a strong woman. I think she deserves to know what the FBI has on her.”
Jake could punch a wall. What is it with everyone in this town elevating Carly and her family to deity status? His father is the biggest culprit — Jake sees it with perfect clarity now — but it is sickening how people bend over backwards for a group of people who put only themselves or each other first. To hell with the other lives that they ruin in the process.
Namely, he thinks of the way that Josslyn led Cam to believe that she loved him. Only to turn around and cheat on him for weeks.
Jake tunes back into the conversation in time to hear Commissioner Devane say, “That’s such a hard choice to make. Carly’s safety versus you having to allow the people you love to think that you were dead.”
“I just weighed what I had to lose against what Carly had to lose.”
Jake feels sick to his stomach.
“I didn’t want to leave, Jake. I didn’t have a choice.”
“And you came back?” Jake clarifies. “Just as soon as you could, right?”
They both already know the answer.
“No,” his father says, quietly.
“No,” Jake breathes.
It still feels like a gut punch.
Bullsh*t. All bullsh*t. Jake could barely breathe that day and now is no different.
His father had said that he couldn’t explain why, but that was all lies. He knew how it would be received by everyone, especially his and Danny’s mothers. He knows that his mother does not like Carly, even though she always tried to disguise it for Cam’s sake. Now he can see why. Everyone else comes second to her.
Jason Morgan’s sons are an afterthought to him, unlike her.
“It came down to our kids, you know.” Jake freezes. His heart is in his throat.
Don’t, he inwardly begs. Don’t.
Jake’s not entirely sure what it is that he’s begging for, but he knows he doesn’t want to hear the logic employed by his father or his next words. He is right, too.
“I knew Jake and Danny would be okay.” Jake feels his eyes burn. He covers his mouth with his palm to stifle any noise. “Because they have great moms and stable homes, but Donna. I mean, she’s just a kid. She needs her mom.”
I was a kid, Jake thinks. I was fourteen and just watched my mom bury my step-dad. Danny was twelve. We needed our dad.
“That’s very admirable of you.”
Seeking out his father was a mistake, but it is one that he needed to make — because now he knows. He knows how little they mean to him. For the first time, he starts to truly understand a part of why Charlotte targeted Commissioner Devane as well. She talks a big game about the importance of “law and order”, but she is as crooked as his father or Mr. Corinthos. She might hide it better behind a badge, but it’s there. Despite all the wrong reasons why Charlotte went after her — and the manipulation by Victor Cassadine that made it happen — Jake gets it.
The commissioner qualifying what his father did is nauseating.
Jake has heard enough. He doesn’t plan to stick around for long enough to get discovered. Jake hightails it out of the apartment complex. It’s only once he’s several blocks from the building that he releases a muffled scream.
He doesn’t know where to go next. No, that’s not exactly true. He knows where he wants to go. Jake shouldn’t go there. He forfeited that privilege weeks ago, but the urge is still strong. Even with the knowledge that he’ll likely get sent on his way, he finds his legs carrying him toward a specific place. One specific person. His person.
Charlotte.
***
Monday, July 8, 2024 – 12:51 p.m.
Charlotte paces the length of her bedroom.
She cannot go away to sleepaway camp. She definitely cannot go back to boarding school. She won’t do it. It is not fair to her. Not smack in the middle of high school. Not when she has people who mean everything to her, including her mother. She won’t let her father ship her off like some inconvenience in the middle of the night. Like she is some sort of fugitive.
Charlotte is so caught up in her thoughts that she almost misses the pebble hitting her window. She looks outside and her heart skips a beat. She motions for Jake to wait as she pulls out her cell phone. She calls his number.
“Hi.” Charlotte closes her eyes. She missed his voice. “What’s going on?”
“I’m grounded,” she whispers. “I can’t go down and my dad will freak out if he sees you here.”
“What if I climb up?”
“That’s really dangerous. You shouldn’t.”
“That’s sort of my thing, isn’t it?” Charlotte frowns. “At least this time, I’d be doing it for the right reason. To see you.” Then, hastily, he adds, “Unless you don’t want me to.”
“I want you to,” she clarifies. Sighing, she says, “Please be careful.”
Jake must be part spider, because he is lifting himself through her window and into her bedroom less than two minutes later. She stares at him in astonishment.
“What?” he whispers, self-conscious. She shakes her head.
Focus Cassadine, she inwardly scolds herself. She tries to calm her racing heart.
“What are you doing here?” Charlotte asks. Something dark passes over Jake’s face. “What is it? What happened?”
“I couldn’t go home,” Jake says. “I …” He shakes his head. “I found out something bad. About my father and why he stayed away.” He looks closer at her. “You’ve been crying.”
Charlotte exhales and slowly nods.
“Timing really is everything.”
“Huh?”
Tilting her head, she replies, “I found out something about my father, too. Was yours something unforgivable as well?”
“Yeah,” Jake says. “Some pair we make. Uh, made.”
Charlotte tries not to dwell on the present-to-past tense correction.
“You couldn’t go home,” Charlotte repeats. He nods. “So you came here?”
“Yeah,” he says, sheepishly. “I know I don’t get to dump this on you. You made it clear where we stand. I just … I wanted to see you. Even if it’s selfish. Even if you tell me to beat it.”
“Jake,” Charlotte interrupts. “I am glad you’re here. Both because I’ve missed you, but also … I’m basically screwed.” Jake furrows his brows. “I wasn’t meant to find out what I did. Now my father is saying he’s sending me to camp for the rest of the summer. And to Europe in the fall.”
“What?” Jake hisses. Charlotte glances at the door and motions for him to lower his voice. “Are you f*cking kidding me?”
She shakes her head.
“I — I don’t know what to do,” Charlotte whispers.
“You can’t go,” he says, matter-of-factly. “Tell Grandma Laura. She’ll stop him.”
Charlotte doesn’t have the wherewithal to cringe or remind him that they specifically don’t refer to her as “Grandma Laura” when they speak to each other.
“I can’t stop him. Neither can she.” Charlotte wipes her eyes. “What I found out … it’ll ruin lives.”
“Mine, too.”
“So you get it,” Charlotte says. “Wanting to tell, but not being able to or knowing how.” He nods. “What the hell do we do?”
They stare at each other for several long minutes. Something registers behind Jake’s eyes.
“I don’t want to go home,” he says, slowly. “And you don’t want to be sent away.”
“That’s right,” Charlotte says, uncomprehending.
“What if we compromise?”
“What do you mean?”
Jake rubs a hand against his jaw. He looks carefully at her.
“It’s rash. And it’s definitely stupid,” Jake prefaces. “It also requires a lot of trust that I haven’t done anything to earn back. So I understand if you say no.”
“Jake,” Charlotte says, impatiently. “I’m listening.”
Jake takes a deep breath.
“Okay.”
