Here's the story, sent in five parts.  I warned you it was long!  LOL!!

Charlotte

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“Through A Glass, Darkly”

Chapter One

 

New Orleans, Louisiana

James Cordova sat in his plush chair, quietly sipping a glass of scotch. He stared out of the window of his penthouse. It was the most luxurious in the city. The view incredible. It had to be, of course. He accepted nothing but perfection. But tonight he did not enjoy the stunning beauty of the city. His heart was too heavy with the news he had received that afternoon.

He heard the door open and he glanced up to see his bodyguard allowing his friend to enter. He studied the boy for several minutes. Daniel Ryan Jackson was just a kid still, although he looked older than his mere sixteen years. He had a long mane of gold blonde hair. It fell past his shoulders and framed a striking face. His features were perfect, and Cordova imagined he would break a thousand hearts in his lifetime. Bright blue eyes and deep dimples softened the hardness about him, though. Daniel was unusually tall for his age, and working as a loader on the docks had given him solid muscles and the strength to go with them.

James had met him three years ago. The kid had been a scraggly, hard-headed thirteen-year-old who had tried to pick his pockets. He’d been angry and defensive, but he supposed Danny had had his reasons to be that way. The world had not been kind to this boy, and it was about to get worse.

“You wanted to see me?” Daniel questioned, pushing a lock of hair from his face and securely tucking it behind his ear. The dim light from the room glittered off his earring.

He made an excellent “town bad boy”, James thought with a smile. From the long hair to ripped jeans to the black leather jacket, he fit the part to perfection. Or maybe the part fit him. The jeans were old and worn. He wore them not because they made a statement, but because he had nothing better. Cordova had given him the leather jacket last year when he had realized the kid had nothing to protect him from the cold rain of winter.

Whether it be rain or shine, cold or hot, Danny had always been the first one on the docks to unload the cargo from his shipments. He had been the last to leave. And he kept his mouth shut real good.

Cordova had always made certain he paid the kid a little extra on the side, but he knew where the money went. In the beginning it had gone to support Daniel’s worthless mother. Now it went to pay for her medical care. Years of living on the wild side were now taking its toll. The drugs, the drinking, and the unprotected sex had left her with two unwanted gifts: Daniel had been the first and the second had been AIDS.

James supposed he should be grateful that she had contracted the disease after Daniel’s birth, saving his health at least. But she had become a burden to her son, in Cordova’s opinion. He now struggled just to pay for her hospice care.

Melanie Jackson had called him two months ago from her sick bed, begging him for money. She had insisted it was for Daniel, but she had obviously not spent a dime of the money on him.

“How was school?” he asked, setting the drink down on the table and standing.

“School was school,” he shrugged, watching the other man carefully. He had heard all the rumors about James Cordova there was to know. Part of The Syndicate, some said. Undeniably a man connected to the Mafia, others insisted. He didn’t know because he didn’t ask. He was smart enough to know not to.

What he did know was that James had given him a job loading cargo on the docks three years ago after the man had caught him trying to pick his pockets. For that, he had been eternally grateful. James had become a friend to him, as well. He had given him and his mother a place to stay, and he had given him odd jobs on the side. He needed the money and James knew that.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Cordova lightly accused. “Your teacher called the bar trying to reach your mother. I just happened to be there and took the message. You’ve skipped this entire week.”

“Mom has been sick. You know that,” Daniel reminded. “The doctors say she might not have long.”

“Your teachers don’t know that your mother has been put in the hospice, do they?” he inquired. “They don’t know that you are living alone in the apartment above my bar. Otherwise they’d have your butt in a foster home by now. But you keep skipping school and it is only a matter of time before they find out.”

“Then what do you think I should do? Let her die alone?” he snapped.

“Actually, I think you need a haircut,” Cordova announced, reaching behind the bar and producing a handful of fake identifications. He tossed them to the teen.

Daniel shuffled through them, curiously reading the names with his picture above them. “Daniel Ryan. Jack Ryan. Ryan Daniels. Jack Daniels?” he asked with an amused smile.

“I thought you’d like that one. I tried to keep them as close to your real name as possible. I don’t want you getting too confused,” Cordova sighed, retrieving his drink from the coffee table and taking a long sip from it. “Each one lists you a different age. You can decide which one to use based on where you look for work.”

“Are you firing me?” he asked, visibly stunned. “James, if I have done something--”

“They’re coming after me,” Cordova interrupted. “And they’re going to use you to get to me.”

Daniel knew who “they” were. The Feds. “How do you know that?” he quietly asked.

“I was contacted by a former agent recently. A man named Larkin. He wanted to sell me some information,” he explained. “The Feds have someone planted in my organization, and this person tipped them off about you. When your mother dies, Child Services will be all over you. It is only a matter of time before they find something to have you arrested for. Then they’re going to offer you a deal: Rat me out or they’re going to send you to juvenile hall.”

“But I haven’t done anything,” Daniel stated in disbelief.

“You work for me. That alone is a crime in this city. And, if they have to, they will just plant something on you. Drugs in your locker at school. A gun, maybe.”

“I won’t sell you out,” the teen stated insistently.

“I know. And I can’t hide you in the city until you turn eighteen,” he sighed. “You’ve seen things, Danny. You know things that could put me away from the rest of my life. The Feds know that. I won’t let them use you. I want you to get a haircut. Lose the earring. Get yourself some new clothes. Something a Danny Jackson wouldn’t wear. And be on a buss out of town by midnight.”

“I’m not leaving my mother,” he stated insistently. “As long as she lives, I stay.”

“She wouldn’t do the same for you,” Cordova snapped in anger. “She would leave you in a heartbeat. I don’t think you understand something, Danny. I am involved with some very dangerous people. They would just as soon kill you before running the risk of you getting close to the cops.”

“I’m not leaving my mother,” he repeated on an insistent voice.

 

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Chapter 2

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“He’s staying for his mother,” Agent Ford announced, retrieving the file he had laid down earlier. “She’s dying.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Roy DiLucca snapped. He sat behind Luke Spencer’s desk, warily eying his former “employer”. “My days with the agency are over and done with.”

“Just a fair warning, Roy,” the man stated. “I like you. I’ve always liked you. But I know that you have gotten close to Sonny Corinthos.”

“What does Sonny have to do with James Cordova?”

“They’re old friends,” Ford revealed. “Your friend and Cordova go back a long, long way. When we bring him down, it is possible he may start talking about Corinthos. I just don’t want you close to Corinthos when the hammer falls.”

Suspicion touched Roy then, and he decreed. “Sonny made a deal that has him free and clear of the past. Or maybe. . .You are not telling me this as a ‘warning’ for my safety, are you? You are hoping that I will go strait to Sonny with this information. You want me to tell him in the hopes that he will reach out to Cordova and get caught in the crossfire.”

Ford smiled without emotion, insisting, “You have become rather paranoid, haven’t you?”

“No. I just learned how to play the game,” he assured. “If the hammer falls, as you put it, then your entire case revolves around whether or not a teenage kid turns evidence on a mob boss. That is shaky ground and will never hold water with a real judge.”

“Cordova made a huge mistake,” Ford snapped. “He let the kid get too close. That boy can bring him down, and I will stop at nothing to see it done. Even if I have to beat the truth out of Daniel Jackson. He’s a kid. It won’t take much to scare him. He’ll talk in the end.”

“Or he’ll take the fall?” Roy demanded in anger. He had seen too much of this in his days with the Feds.

“Just consider yourself warned. Stay away from Corinthos for the next few weeks.”

Roy merely nodded, watching as the other man left the room. A part of him raged against what was about to happen. Another kid on the merge of taking a terrible fall thanks to the people he use to work for.

He belatedly saw the photo lying on the floor. He moved to retrieve it, realizing it had fallen from Ford’s file. A single name was scribbled across the back. Daniel Jackson. He turned it in his hand, studying the face that stared back at him.

This case sounded like something his old “friend” Larkin would pull. He had helped Larkin back another kid into a corner many, many years ago. Leo Bedford had taken the fall instead of testifying. And now his old agency friends were doing it to another kid. Jackson’s life would be ruined either way.

Roy didn’t want to think of what would happen to the kid if he didn’t talk. Or if he did.

For a moment, he considered calling Sonny Corinthos and telling him all that he knew. But he decided against it. Sonny was in the middle of a turf war with his nemesis Joseph Sorel. He didn’t need this added burden.

“Not this time, Ford,” he sighed sadly, looking at the photo one last time before tossing it into the trash.

The only person likely to get burned on this one was Daniel Jackson.

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Chapter 3

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St. Mary’s Hospice

New Orleans, Louisiana

 

“Mom? How are you feeling today?”

Melanie Jackson forced her eyes to focus on speaker. It took her a moment gather her composure. She had been in and out of consciousness all day. But she had still been alert enough to see the look on the faces of her doctors and nurses. It had been grim. She was dying. But she wouldn’t go yet. She had one last thing to do.

“Mom?” the voice sounded again, and a concerned hand touched her hair.

“Danny,” she sighed in relief and joy when her gaze finally focused enough to see his face. She reached a shaking hand out to cup his cheek, noticing, “You cut your hair.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, touching the short ends of his hair. “James was on my case about it.”

“Cordova,” she sighed, letting her weak arm fall back to the bed. “I guess he told you about the money I borrowed? It was for you, Danny. I needed it to hire a P.I. I had to find someone. For you.”

“You’re not making any sense, Mom,” he stated in a worried voice. “Why don’t you just rest for awhile.”

Her gaze drifted to the open Bible lying on the nightstand beside her bed. “Read to me,” she pleaded. “The passages I marked.”

He reached for the Bible. Religion had never been a big part of their lives, but his mother seemed to have found some comfort in it since her illness.

Taking the Bible, he began reading the verses she had highlighted, “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge; and though I have all faith so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing. Love beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Love never ends. But where there be prophecies, they shall fail. Where there be tongues, they shall cease. Where there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly--”

“Through a glass, darkly,” she interrupted.

“I never understood why you liked that verse so much,” he stated. “I remember that you use to say it all the time when I was younger.”

“Because it describes me,” she admitted sadly. “It means you are looking through a dark window. You can’t see clearly. The image is distorted, so things appear differently than they really are. I’m that way, Daniel.”

“No, your not, Mom,” he disagreed.

“But I am. The first time I heard that verse, your father said it to me,” she admitted.

He stood then, turning his back to her. She caught his hand, pulling him back to her side. “You use to ask about him often when you were a child. But you stopped a few years ago. Why?”

With a sigh, he admitted, “I realized he left us and asking only made it harder for you.”

“And that is your dark glass,” she whispered hoarsely. “You see him as the man who left you. But the truth is. . .he never knew.”

The words momentarily stunned him. Finally finding his voice, he stammered, “W-What?”

“I never told him,” she repeated. “He never knew he had a son.”

“Why didn’t you tell him? Or me?”

“Because I was afraid,” Melanie admitted, her face eerily pale. “I was. . .afraid for you. . .and him. . .If he ever knew. . .I was only trying to. . .protect you both. I was. . .scared you would. . .search for him. That you would leave me. My locket,” she requested, struggling to sit up in the bed.

“Don’t,” he gently ordered, worried over her frail condition. “Don’t sit up and don’t try to talk anymore.”

“I’m so sorry,” she sighed, gasping for breath. “I should have. . .told you both. I feared for you then, if he had known. Now. . .I fear for you. . .because he doesn’t know. The PI. . .I hired found him. He’s in Port Charles, New York. My locket,” she wheezed. “It. . .explains. . .everything.”

“I’ll get it,” he vowed, standing from the bed and walking to the dresser. He pulled open the drawer and reached inside, opening her jewelry box and retrieving the gold, heart-shaped locket. His mother had worn it all of her life. She had never taken it off or left her home without it with her.

“The answers. . .are. . .inside,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering slightly, and then closing.

He stood in stunned shock for a moment, watching in disbelief as her heart monitor flat lined. “Mom,” he whispered, racing back to the bed and frantically punching the nurse’s call button. “Come on, Mama, don’t do this. Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Mama!”

The door burst open then as several nurses and Dr. Faller entered. He turned to the doctor, tears streaming down his face as he ordered, “Do something! You can’t let her die! Not now. Do something!”

“I can’t,” Faller sighed. “She signed a DNR order this morning. She’s gone, Daniel. Let her go.”

“But you don’t understand,” he whispered in anguish.

“Yes, I do,” Faller tried to offer what comfort he could with those words. He reached up to flip off the heart monitor to end the constant whine of it. He quietly quoted a time of death to the nurse before resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder, stating, “I’ll give you a little time to say good-bye.”

Daniel watched as the doctor and nurses exited the room, turning back to his mother’s peaceful face. He slowly opened the locket, already knowing what was waiting him inside. A picture of him as a baby and one of his mother stared back at him.

His mother had said the locket held the answers to his questions about his father.

Gently touching her cheek, he wept, “You never told me his name, Mama. You never told me his name.”

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Chapter 4

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FBI Agent Candice “Candy” Nelson stood in the doorway and watched Daniel Jackson with sad eyes. The badge that she kept hidden in a secret pocket in her jacket literally burned her this day.

The agency had been trying to bring Cordova down for years, and she had been planted as a waitress in one of his bars in the hopes that she could get close enough to bust him. She had never managed to get in his good graces. Instead, the only people she had managed to befriend had been Melanie and Daniel Jackson.

It had been an act at first. She knew the kid was close to Cordova and getting close to his sick mother had helped her cause. But the act had soon faded into a reality. She had genuinely came to care for Melanie and had mourned her passing. She had gone with Daniel just that morning to help scatter her ashes into the Mississippi River. It had always been her request. Melanie had once told her that the only time she had been truly happy had been on riverboat, floating down that river. She hoped her friend would find some peace now.

God knew, she never would again. Especially after what she had just done. Child Services were on their way to take Daniel into custody. She had called them after the small, private ceremony. Her superior officers hadn’t been pleased that she had not called them the day Melanie died, but she had felt Danny needed to say a proper good-bye.

But she could not waste any more time on this one. James Cordova had managed to keep Melanie’s death quiet from the authorities up until now, and she had a sneaky suspicion that he was about to send the boy underground. So she had taken action.

Sometimes she wished she had never told the agency about Daniel. They were going to use him against Cordova because he was the only one that they could use. Cordova had his close friends and partners, but they had managed to stay as untouchable from the law as Cordova himself had proven to be. But Daniel. . .He had gotten close enough to James to bring him down, and now they had the opportunity to use that.

And the Feds would use him, even though she knew it would be no use. She had come to realize that he would never sell Cordova out. He would take the fall instead. He would either be sent to juvenile hall for the next two years. Or something would surface that would send him to prison.

He wouldn’t last long in either place, she though with a shudder. He was too young. Too innocent to the ways of the men he would meet there. She knew his life had never been easy, but nothing he had seen on the streets would prepare him for the next two years with the monsters he was about to spend them with.

She studied him from the safety of the shadows. He sat on his mother’s bed, her jewelry box in front of him. Melanie had loved that box for some reason. She had never let it out of her sight for too long. It wasn’t the most beautiful or spacious. In fact, the inside was rather tiny. There was a compartment on the bottom that called for a key to open it, but Melanie had confided to her that she had bought the box second hand and had never owned the key to it.

Daniel looked up then, smiling as he called, “Look what I found, Candy.”

She entered the room and sit down beside him, forcing herself to smile at his enthusiasm. She took the picture he held out, studying it. His mother’s young, smiling face stared back at him. As well as a man she had never seen before.

“Who is this?” she asked.

“I. . .I think he’s my father,” he admitted. “Look at the back. He has the exact same initials as the inscription on my Mom’s locket. And I found the picture in her box. Why else would it be there if it didn’t have some significance to her? And look, she is wearing the locket in that picture. She said that the locket was the key to finding my father. Maybe this picture is the other key. My father was man who gave her the necklace, I bet. He had the inscription put on the back. The initials are the same.”

“You’re reaching, Danny,” she tried to reason with him. “Sure he has the same initials as the inscription on your mother’s locket, but you have no real proof. One picture hardly proves anything.”

He looked away, refusing to let her dampen his spirits. He had a locket, a picture with a name on the back, and a town. Port Charles. Candy didn’t know that, though, and he had no intentions of telling her. It would be better for James when he disappeared if no one knew where he was heading.

He reached for the locket again, comparing the initials with the name on the back of the photo. Melanie would not have lied about something like this. She wasn’t perfect, he had always known that, but this she would not lie about.

She had loved him and his father, and he took some comfort in that. He had always known that, even in those times that he had wished the worst on her.

Like when one of her drunken boyfriends would beat the hell out of both of them and run out with the grocery money. Or when her drug-dealing pals would get her arrested.

It hadn’t always been that way, though. When he had been younger, things had been good. Or at least in his child’s eye view of the world, they had seemed good. In reality, his mother had been working two and three jobs just to make ends meet. They had lived in slummy apartments and barely scraped by.

Perhaps that was why she had gotten involved with so many jerks. Men who had introduced her to the world of drugs. She had used and dealt at times. And he had hated every moment of it. Sometimes he had even hated her. But most of all, he had hated his absentee father.

By the age of thirteen, they had been living in an abandoned house near the docks. He had taken a risk one day and tried to steal some rich guy’s wallet. In retrospect, that had been one of the best things that had ever happened to him. That “rich man” had been James Cordova.

James had given him a job and let them live rent-free in the small apartment over one of his clubs. He had thought everything would go back to being good then. Melanie had all but stopped using drugs, but she had been sick a lot. He had convinced her to see a doctor, and that was when she had received her death warrant. She had full-blown AIDS. She had gone so long without treatment that there had been little the doctors could do for her by then.

Now she was gone. And he was alone. He had to leave New Orleans for James’ sake. He wouldn’t turn on his friends. He owed the man more than that.

So he would take his new found knowledge and go to the town of Port Charles. He would find himself some type of work. Then he would see if the man in the photo lived there. He had a name, maybe he could get an address from a phone book. Then he would know for certain.

He started in surprise when a woman he had never seen walked through the door and into the bedroom. She briefly flashed him some sort of ID, stating, “I am Shelly Gray from the Department of Child Services. Are you Daniel Jackson?”

“Excuse me, lady, but you can’t just barge in here!” he snapped. “This is a private place and--”

“We have orders to take you into protective custody, Daniel,” she interrupted. “We understand that your mother recently died and you have no other living family. We will place you in a temporary foster home for tonight until. . .”

Daniel tuned her out, quietly cursing his luck. Of all the worst time to be busted my Social Services! Or had he been, he suspiciously thought. James thought the Feds had someone planted in his organization. It looked liked he was right.

“I need to pack a few things,” he requested, mustering his best innocent look. “If you will allow me to?”

“Under my supervision,” the guard dog of a woman insisted.

“Sure,” he agreed, standing from his mother’s bed. He quickly put the locket and picture back into the jewelry box and tucked it under his arm. Turning to Candy, he requested, “Do you have some type of suitcase I could use?”

“I will go down stairs and see,” she agreed, surprised by how well he seemed to be taking this.

He waited until Candy had left the apartment before leading Gray to his small bedroom. “Would you hand me the backpack from my closet?”

“I suppose so,” Gray sighed, moving to the closet and opening the door. “Where is it?”

“It’s right there,” he insisted, walking up behind her. She took a step closer to the inside of the closet. He took the advantage, forcing her into the closet and slamming the door behind her. He braced his hips against the door long enough to pull the dresser over, wedging it against the door.

From the inside of the closet, Gray banged loudly on the wood, demanding that he let her out. Daniel reached under the bed then and pulled out his duffel bag. He had packed his belongings the day of his chat with Cordova, now he was thankful he had. He took only a moment to jerk open his top dresser drawer and retrieved the fake ID’s James had presented him with. He stuffed them and the jewelry box into the bag, tightening the drawstrings and tossing it over his shoulder.

He raced down the stairs and burst into the bar, nearly knocking over a table in his haste and drawing the attention of a stunned Candy. She quickly hung up her cell phone, an expression on her face that looked almost like guilt to him.

“The battle-ax is locked in my closet,” he stated. “Let her out in a few hours. I’ll be out of the city by then.”

“I can’t let you go, Danny,” she began.

“Not without this, anyway,” a new voice added. Both turned as James Cordova entered his establishment, an envelope in his hand and a grim look on his face. He walked strait to Daniel, taking him by the arm and leading him to a more private corner. “Someone has reported you to Social Services, already. I just got a call from one of my informants. They’re sending--”

“The bulldog lady,” he finished. “Yeah, I know. She’s camping out in my closet as we speak. I’m sorry I put you in this position. But I’m leaving.”

“I wished you didn’t have to,” Cordova stated honestly, holding out the envelope to him. “It’s enough money to get you to where ever you’re headed. You know, I could make a few calls. I got friends who owe me.”

“And the Feds know that and they will be looking for me to show up there,” he insisted. “Look, you don’t need to worry about me. And I’m not taking your money. I’ve got plenty of my own. My mom told me where I could find my father and that is where I am headed.”

“You’re old man?” he asked in surprise. “That’s a surprise. Where is he?”

“Port Charles, New York. If I hurry, I can make the next buss north.”

“Port Charles?” he stated in surprise. “I got a friend there. A man named Sonny Corinthos. You get into trouble, look him up, you hear?”

“I will,” he promised, extending his hand. “I guess this is good-bye.”

Cordova ignored his hand, hugging him instead. “Take care, Danny. Keep in touch if you can.”

Daniel nodded, swallowing past the lump of emotion in his throat. He was losing all his family. His mother was gone forever. He had to leave his home and his friends. It would be a risk to try to keep in constant contact with James.

He was surprised to realize how scared he was. Scared of what he was losing. And what he might find in Port Charles.

“I’ll send you a postcard,” he joked, clamping the man on the back as he walked past him and out of the establishment for good.

Cordova watched him leave, sadness welling in his chest. Damn, he would miss that kid. But right now he had something else to deal with. There was a traitor in his organization, and he was about to smoke that person out.

Turning back to Candy, he smiled and stated, “I hope he makes it to Mexico City without too much trouble. My friends there will take good care of him.”

“You’re sending him to Mexico then?” she asked. “Uh, my shift is almost over, but the social services woman is still upstairs and--”

“Take off,” he insisted. “I will see to it that she gets out in a few hours.”

Candy nodded, gathering her purse and scurrying from the bar. James watched her leave before reaching for his cell phone. He had three suspects in mind as his traitor. He had told the first he was sending Danny to California. The other he had told Canada. And he had told her Mexico. He had his people stationed at the train station. Now he just had to wait and see where the cops put up their surveillance.

Quickly dialing a number, he smiled when the voice on the other end answered. “Sonny, my old friend! How are you?” he asked, pausing for the reply. “Yes, it’s James. Listen, I have a favor to ask of you. . .”

***************

Chapter 5

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Luke Spencer looked back and forth between the fake ID and the kid that stood in his office. Jack Ryan--if that was his real name--wanted a job as a stockman. He doubted the kid was old enough to even know what liquor smelled like. He felt bad for the kid. There was an edge about him. A hint of desperation that lingered in his eyes. He knew that feeling all too well. He had lived it himself once.

Yes, he felt bad for the kid, but he’d feel even worse for himself if he lost his liquor license for employing a minor in his bar.

He studied the ID that proclaimed Jack Ryan to be a twenty-two year old. “This is good,” he suddenly praised. “In fact, this is the best damn fake ID I have ever seen in my life.”

“Fake?” Daniel tried to bluff. “That is not fake.”

“Sure, it is, kid,” Luke decreed, tossing it into the trash behind his desk. “I mean, it is a great one, but I can smell a fake a mile away.”

Daniel released a tired sigh. He was busted, and he knew it. Cordova had taught him early on that you couldn’t kid a kidder. Spencer obviously knew the ropes. “Can I have the ID back?”

“No way,” Luke laughed. “Sorry, kid, but I can’t let you use that to get a job at some unsuspecting bar. A place could get shut down for hiring minors.”

“I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble,” he admitted. “I just need a job.”

Luke sighed heavily, studying the boy. Yes, he felt bad for him. But there was nothing he could go. “Sorry, kid. I can’t hire you.”

“You going to call the cops on me?” Daniel hesitantly asked.

Luke roared with laughter then, pointing out, “I’m not too friendly with the cops, kid. Just don’t pull this stunt elsewhere, you hear?”

“Sure,” he agreed, turning to leave. The door swung open as he reached it and he nearly collided with a beautiful young blonde woman. “Excuse me.”

“No, I’m the one who needs to apologize,” Felicia Jones laughed. “I didn’t know Luke had company.”

“I was just leaving,” Daniel assured, stepping past her and leaving the office.

“I’m sorry,” Felicia apologized. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No,” Luke insisted, the wheels turning in his mind. There was something vaguely familiar about that kid. The boy looked like someone he knew. . .he just couldn’t put his finger on who exactly. “What can I do for you?”

“Mac is taking the girls to the movies tonight,” she began. “I was thinking that maybe we could get together.”

“Actually, I already have plans tonight. I am going over to Laura’s to visit with my daughter,” he stated evasively, refusing to meet her eyes. He wasn’t sure what had been between them in the past, but he did know that it was over.

Since his divorce, he and Felicia had “dated” for the past six months. But he was quickly learning that there was no magic there. Not like there had been with Laura. . .

Laura. His beautiful, sweet Laura. Why had be ever let her go? Why had he signed those blasted divorce papers?

“Then how about now?” Felicia interrupted his thoughts. “We could go something this afternoon.”

“I. . .I’ve got a ton of paper work,” he stated, knowing how lame that sounded even to his own ears. Luke Spencer and paper work were words that rarely went together.

“Luke,” Roy DiLucca called, entering his office and stopping short. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not. I was just leaving,” Felicia snapped, standing and brushing past Roy on her way out.

“Trouble?” an amused Roy asked.

“I like you, DiLucca, but shut up,” he sighed. “What do you want?”

“Sonny is on the line,” he stated hesitantly. “He wants to talk to you?”

“Corinthos?” he asked with raised eyebrows. They had not been on good terms in a long time. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what this man wanted with him now. Picking up the phone, he barked, “Hello, Sonny. How is mob life treating you these days?”

“I’m looking for someone, Spencer,” Sonny Corinthos stated seriously. “A kid. He’s tall, blonde hair. Might be using an alias with Daniel or Ryan or Jackson somewhere in it.”

“And what makes you think I can help you on that one?” Luke asked, his suspicious eyes falling to the fake ID lying in his trash can.

“Because I know a kid came in asking about a job at your bar,” Sonny stated. “This is my town, Spencer. I know everything that happens here. Is the kid still there?”

“He was here,” Luke admitted. “But I didn’t give him a job, so he left and I have no idea where he went.”

Roy listened to the end of the unusual conversation, watching as Luke hung the phone up. “What was that about?”

“The hell if I know,” he sighed. “Corinthos is trying to track down some kid. He was in here earlier looking for a job. Using a fake ID, might I add.”

“What does Sonny want with him?”

“I didn’t ask. Who knows. Maybe the kid owes him money or something,” he sighed, reaching for the ID and tossing it to DiLucca.

Roy caught it, a surprised expression flashing across his face. It couldn’t be. . .but it was! He recognized the picture from the one Agent Ford had shown him last week. He even remembered the name. Daniel Jackson. The kid that his “old friends” were trying to use against mobster Cordova. They had hopes that Jackson’s testimony could also hurt Sonny, and if Sonny was looking for him--

“Dammit!” Roy snapped, throwing the document down on the desk. “Where did the kid go?”

“I don’t know--” Luke began, but Roy was already storming out of his office before he could finish. He retrieved the forged driver’s license from his desk top, staring at the photo that look back at him. If only he could remember where he had seen that face.

***************

Chapter 6

***************

Daniel Jackson entered the small diner that proclaimed its name to be “Kelly’s”, moving to the counter and sitting down wearily. His efforts to find work in Port Charles had not gone well. He was tired and discouraged and running out of money. He was homesick, too. More than anything, he wanted to go home. But what had been his home was no longer there.

His mother was gone. His home was gone. And, in many ways, James was gone, too. He couldn’t even contact his friend without running the risk of the authorities knowing about it.

“Can I get you something, honey?” Tammy asked, jarring him from his thoughts.

Daniel forced a smile, asking, “I bet you wouldn’t have any shrimp gumbo lying around the place, would you?”

“I’m afraid not,” Tammy replied.

“Then how about a cheeseburger. With ketchup,” he added. “Lots of ketchup. Fries and a coke.”

“Sure,” Tammy agreed, walking back to the kitchen. A local newspaper lay at the end of the counter and he stood and reached for it, turning around and bumping into someone.

“Watch were you’re going,” Maxie Jones scolded, looking down in disgust at the milkshake that was spilled on her new skirt.

Daniel reached for a handful of napkins, awkwardly trying to wipe the chocolate stain from her clothing. “I’m so sorry. Look, I will pay to have this cleaned or buy you something new.”

Maxie started to reply, but the words died in her throat when she looked up at him, really seeing him for the first time. Her breath caught in her throat. He was beautiful. He had perhaps the most perfect face she had ever seen. Even more handsome than Lucky Spencer, and she had never thought anyone could be that.

She realized he was still talking to her, and she stammered, “W-What?”

“Your skirt,” Daniel repeated. “I ruined it.”

“No,” she stated in a rush. “Really, you didn’t. I’m sure it will wash out.”

“A minute ago you biting my head off,” he reminded. “Now everything is cool?”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she hastily assured. “In fact, I think it was me who ran into you. So. . .I haven’t seen you in Kelly’s before.”

“I just moved to town,” he answered, reclaiming his seat and quietly inviting her to take the stool beside him.

“My name is Maxie,” she introduced herself, extending her hand to him.

He shook it, considering using one of his alias, but deciding against it. “I’m Daniel,” he stated.

“You just moved to town,” she reminded. “So does that mean that you will be going to school here?”

“Actually, I’m looking for work,” he evasively replied.

“Hi, Maxie, I’m sorry we’re late,” a voice interrupted and Daniel turned to see a man and a woman walking towards them.

“Hi, Mac. Mom,” she greeted them both. They had planned on meeting this afternoon and celebrating the fact that she had made honor roll against this semester.

“Who’s your friend?” Felicia curiously asked, noting for the first time the hard way the boy was studying Mac.

Forcing his attention back to the woman, he smiled in recognition, “It’s good to see you again, Ma’am.”

“You two have met?” Mac Scorpio asked, his suspicious nature kicking in.

“We didn’t actually meet earlier. We just bumped into one another at Mr. Spencer’s office.”

He knew he had said something wrong then. Tension of the like he had never felt before flowed between the three people. Maxie stood abruptly then, slamming her glass down on the counter.

“I don’t think I want anything to eat today,” she announced, rudely pushing past her mom and racing from the diner.

“Maxie!” Felicia called, rushing after her.

Daniel watched them leave. He turned back to Scorpio then, defiant blue eyes clashing with equally stubborn blue ones. “Was it something I said?” he asked.

Mac shook his head in the face of the boy’s cocky arrogance. Just what he needed. Another punk to contend with in his town. “You don’t look twenty-one. What were you doing in Spencer’s bar?”

“What’s it to you?”

“It’s my job,” Mac replied, parting his jacket to reveal the badge that clung to his belt.

“You’re a cop!” Daniel exploded.

“Yes,” Mac smiled in the face of the accusation. “Do you have any identification on you, son?”

“Don’t call me that,” he hissed, a hint of anger sparkling in his eyes. Of all the worst luck! A cop. He had to go and cross paths with a cop!

He could see the suspicion in Scorpio’s eyes. This man would neither like nor trust him, and in his position, that could be very, very dangerous.

“I haven’t done anything,” he replied. “You wouldn’t be harassing me, would you, Officer?”

“Cheeseburger--with ketchup--and fries,” Tammy declared, exiting the kitchen and sitting the plate in front of him.

Daniel purposely turned his back on the man. Mac was not that easily put off, though. He moved to the end of the bar and sat down, his eyes glued to the kid.

Jackson could literally feel the eyes of the cop following his every move. He half expected to be recognized and arrested at any second. Coming here had been a mistake. He was realizing that now.

He ate as quickly as possible, leaving half his fries behind. He left money on the counter to cover his bill and a small tip. He couldn’t afford much though, he realized with a worried sigh as he counted what money was left in his wallet. He didn’t have enough to get him a buss ticket across town, much less *out* of town. He needed money and he needed to get out of Port Charles as fast as possible. Before the good cop over there hauled him in.

Mac watched as the kid snatched up his jacket and hurried from the diner. He had a bad feeling about that boy. A very bad one. The kid was trouble and he would stop him before he got started. With that thought in mind, he stood and followed him from Kelly’s.

***************

Chapter 7

***************

“Felicia?”

Felicia Jones turned at the sound of her name, quickly wiping a tear from her cheek. She had thought she was alone on the docks and had given into the urge to have a good cry. She was startled to see her friend and confidant Chloe Morgan there.

“What is wrong?” Chloe asked, racing to her side. “Why are you crying?”

“Maxie and I had another argument,” she admitted. “Over Luke.”

Chloe released a compassionate sigh, taking her friend’s hand and leading her to a nearby bench. They sat down together and she hesitantly asked, “Maxie still hasn’t accepted Luke? But you two have been seeing one another for months now.”

“Maxie will never accept Luke,” Felicia admitted sadly. “Not that it will probably matter in the near future, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Luke is pushing me away,” she spoke, her voice breaking. “I can feel it.”

“Maybe he is just worried over your relationship with your daughters,” Chloe tried to rationalize. “He could just be giving you a little space so that you can work things out with Maxie and Georgie.”

“No,” she insisted. “I think he is losing interest in me. I don’t know what to do, Chloe. I. . .I think I have fallen in love with him.”

“Then hold onto him,” the other woman insisted. “Don’t make the mistake that I made with Jax. Do not let yourself lose the man you love.”

“What about you?” she asked in concern. “How are you holding up? I know it is has been difficult for you. You lost Jax and had that terrible experience with Stefan Cassadine.”

“I don’t even want to talk about that horrible man,” Chloe decreed. “I detest him. He put me through so much. He nearly cost me my eyesight. And the time I could have spent winning back Jax’s love was wasted on being his prisoner. I blame him for everything that is wrong in my life right now.”

“Speak of the devil and out he pops,” Felicia warned, watching as Stefan stepped from the boat launch and onto the docks. He walked toward them.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Cassadine spoke in his distinguished, cultured voice. “May I speak with you privately, Chloe.”

“No,” Felicia answered rudely.

“It’s okay,” Chloe assured her friend. “Go talk to your daughter. I will be fine.”

Felicia nodded, reluctantly leaving the two alone.

“It is good to see you again,” Stefan hesitantly began. He tried to keep the insecurity from showing in his eyes. He had cared so much for her. He cared still.

Chloe had been the first woman--the *only* woman--in his romantic life who had tried to understand him. She had tried to learn about who and what he really was. In the end, she had learned she did not like who he was. Much like his mother, Chloe had deemed him unworthy of love.

Bringing her to his island in Greece had been a costly error, in hindsight. She had gotten close to him. Too close. He had let her into his heart and his life. But once his sins had came to life, she had turned against him.

“What do you want?” Chloe demanded.

“I wanted to see how you were feeling? And I was hoping I could convince you to have dinner with me.”

“Go to Hell,” she snapped.

He caught her arm before she could walk away from him. With a sigh, he stated, “I am already there. I miss you, Chloe. I am sorry for what I did. Truly, deeply sorry,”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

From the top of the stairs, Daniel ducked back into the shadows when he heard the loud voice. Curiously, he glanced down at the couple fighting. He listened only half-heartedly to their argument.

The blonde was obviously ticked at something Rich Man had done. Daniel could tell he was rich even from this distance. Suits like that cost more money than he had seen all at one time. The blonde stormed off then, and Rich Man stood alone on the docks, looking dejected.

“Easy mark,” Daniel thought with a confident smile.

He quietly slipped down the stairs, timing his move to perfection. He stepped into Rich Man’s path right as he turned, ensuring their collision.

“I am so sorry,” he began, reaching out to steady the man. His hand easily snatched Rich Man’s wallet, slipping it into his pocket before the man could even regain his own composure.

“Nonsense. I should apologize,” a clearly distracted Stefan assured. “It was I who ran into you.”

“Or that is what he wants you to think,” a new voice called, and both men turned to see Mac Scorpio standing at the top of the steps.

Daniel groaned inwardly, already looking around for an easy escape. Blasted cops, he quietly swore.

“Commissioner,” Stefan greeted.

“Mr. Cassadine,” he returned, walking down the steps. “Where’s your wallet.”

“It’s right. . .” he began, but his voice trailed off as he found his pocket empty. “My wallet it missing.”

“Imagine that,” Mac sarcastically drawled, his accusing eyes trained to the boy. “Care to show me what is in your jacket pockets?”

“You care to tell me what I have done that warrants a search?” Daniel challenged. “Is walking by the water a crime in this town?”

“It is when you steal from our citizens while on that ‘walk’.”

“Did you steal my wallet?” Cassadine demanded, his eyes blazing fury. He was angry with his mother. With himself. With Chloe. But in that moment, the boy made an excellent scapegoat for his rage.

Daniel took a hesitant step back, unnerved by fury he saw in Rich Man. He had seen coldness like that before. Usually in the men that Cordova associated with. But he had never seen it directed entirely at him before.

Port Charles was a mistake. He had been a fool to come here, and it was about to cost him. He took another step backwards, preparing to break and run.

“Watch were you’re going, kid,” Roy DiLucca snapped, bumping into him from behind. “Commissioner. Cassadine. You two tag-teaming against tourists these days?”

“Stay out of this, DiLucca,” Mac insisted.

“Gladly. Oh, by the way, here you go, Stefan,” he stated, tossing an object to him.

Cassadine caught it, his surprise measuring both Scorpio’s and Daniel’s as he stated, “This is my wallet. Where did you get this?”

“It was lying at the boat launch,” he covered smoothly. “You must have dropped it earlier.”

“Is everything there?” a still suspicious Mac asked.

Stefan unfolded his wallet, revealing a stack of one-hundred dollar bills that made Daniel’s mouth hang open. The man called DiLucca gave him a sharp look, and he quickly glanced away from the wad of cash.

“Yes, everything appears to be in place,” he stated, turning to Daniel. “My apologies, young man. I was wrong to accuse you.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged.

Mac scowled in anger. He knew the kid had tried to steal Cassadine’s wallet. But what he didn’t know was why Roy DiLucca of all people was covering for him. With a sigh of irritation, he turned and walked away.

Daniel watched as the cop disappeared around the corner. Rich Man apologized a second time before excusing himself as well, leaving him alone on the docks with the man who had just saved his neck.

“Did you see the wad of money on that guy?”

“Don’t even think about trying that again,” Roy angrily stated.

Daniel turned back to him, cautiously eying the other man. He didn’t look like a pick-pocket, but his move had been incredible. He had never even felt this man take the wallet from his jacket pocket.

“You’ve got some pretty good moves,” he pointed out.

“And you were sloppy,” Roy felt the need to state.

“I’m out of practice,” Jackson admitted. “Look. . .thanks for the save. I do appreciate it. I guess I should be going.”

“Not yet, Daniel,” he stopped him by stepping in path and cutting him off.

A hint of fear touched the boy’s face as he asked, “How did you know my name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he stated, glancing past the boy to see three men walking in their direction.

Daniel turned and followed his gaze, cursing under his breath. He had been around Cordova’s people long enough to know “their own kind” when he saw one. The man in the middle was obviously the leader, the other two his followers.

“Thanks for the call,” Jason Morgan began.

“Yeah. Good work, Roy,” Sonny Corinthos praised as he stopped in front of the kid, eying him. So this was the boy James was willing to risk everything to keep safe. He didn’t look like much to Sonny. Arrogant. Cocky. Defiant. But James had warned him about that.

It was all a cover, his friend had said. Inside lay a scared, lonely kid who needed help.

“Johnny, escort out friend back to my warehouse.”

Daniel jerked away when the bodyguard reached for his arm.

“Relax, kid,” Sonny insisted. “I’m a friend of James.”

“Who?” he asked.

Corinthos laughed at that. “Your loyalty is admirable, but not necessary. James as in Cordova. My name is Sonny Corinthos.”

Jackson nodded then, but distrust still lingered in his eyes. “James mentioned you a couple of times.”

“Good. Then you know you can trust me, right?”

“I know James trusts you,” he hesitantly admitted. “And I guess that is enough for me, as well.”

“Good,” Sonny nodded. “Then let’s go.”

***************

Chapter 8

***************

“Give him some money and buy him a buss ticket out of town,” Roy DiLucca insisted. He, Jason, and Sonny were alone in Sonny’s warehouse office.

Roy could see Daniel Jackson through the glass in the office door. He stood outside the office. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the conversation, but close enough for them to keep an eye on him. Johnny stood with him, making small talk.

“I agree,” Jason Morgan stated. “You have enough trouble as it is, Sonny. Sorel maybe behind bars, but he is still running his organization from inside the PCPD. And he will send someone after you, eventually. You don’t need to be brought into Cordova’s mess right now.”

“I can’t do that,” Sonny replied. “I promised James I would help this kid. And let’s just say that I owe him one.”

“Mac Scorpio was all over that kid on the docks,” Roy reminded. “Getting him out of town would be helping him right now.”

“James seems confident that the kid won’t leave Port Charles anytime soon,” Corinthos admitted. “He says Daniel thinks his father is here in town, and he won’t leave without finding the man. And I promised that I would do what I could to keep the kid safe and off the streets.”

“Exactly how much did Cordova tell you?” DiLucca inquired.

Sonny eyed the other man. Roy obviously knew more than he was saying. “If you’ve got something to say, Roy, then say it.”

He sighed heavily then. He had not wanted to tell his friend about the Feds being after Cordova and Jackson. But it looked like he may have no other choice now. “My old agency is tightening the screws on Cordova and they want the kid to use as leverage.”

“I know,” Corinthos stated simply. “James explained everything to me over the phone the other day. He doesn’t want me to get involved with his end, though. He says he has it handled. All he wants is for me to look after his friend.”

“But that could get you arrested,” Roy insisted. “The people I use to work for probably have his picture all over the place by now. They want him, Sonny, and they are not going to stop until they find him. If Scorpio figures out who the kid is, then he would just as soon arrest both you and him!”

“They’ve got no legal reason to arrest me or him,” Sonny disagreed. “He ran away from home, technically. That is not a criminal offense.”

“But the Feds want him to testify against Cordova,” Roy snapped. “And they hope that testimony will lead to Cordova incriminating you in the process. You were his business partner once. Let’s be frank, the kid is dead either way. If he doesn’t turn evidence, they find a reason to throw the book at him. If he does, Cordova’s associates will kill him before the trial.”

“They have to find him first,” Sonny reminded.

“And where do you think they will look?” Jason demanded. “They will look for anyone who Cordova trusts. These people are not stupid, Sonny. They know that Cordova sent him away, and they know that he probably entrusted one of his friends with his well-being. They will look at you.”

“What am I suppose to do?!” Corinthos shouted back. “I owe James. He is my friend and I made a promise to him that I would look after Daniel while he is in Port Charles. And I will. I won’t let the kid end up on the streets or worse!”

“I’ll do it,” Roy volunteered then.

“Do what?” Morgan asked.

“I’ll look after him,” he sighed in defeat. “He can stay with me. I’ll say he is the son of a long lost friend or something.”

“I don’t want you involved,” Sonny insisted.

“Better me than you. The Feds will never look for him at my place. It will take the suspicion off of you and you can concentrate on Sorel instead.”

“It could work,” Jason hedged. “Roy could look after the kid. Cordova would be free to deal with his own problems. And no one could tie it back to you.”

*And Daniel Jackson won’t end up like Leo,* Roy thought, glancing back to the kid. The Feds wouldn’t be able to use him. Or destroy him if they couldn’t find a use for him.

Sonny nodded his agreement after careful consideration. The three men stepped outside of the office then and moved towards the teen.

Daniel listened as they explained their plan for him. He was more than a little surprised by them. He had thought James’ friend might give him a lift out of town. . .but this. This was completely unexpected. He carefully studied the man called Roy DiLucca, asking, “Why are you doing this for me? You don’t know me or James?”

“I am trying to help Sonny out of a difficult situation,” he insisted. “But there will be rules if you stay with me. First off, I checked your ID’s a minute ago. You’ll use the one lists you as Daniel Ryan. A nice, sixteen year old from Michigan. You’ll tell people that your mother was an old friend of mine, and you are staying with me while she is over-seas. You will enroll in school to take any suspicion off about your age.”

“There is a little thing called a transfer record that schools expect,” Daniel left obliged to remind. “How are you going to by-pass that one?”

“Records can be forged,” Jason reminded. “I’ll see to it that it gets done. School is a good idea, Roy. It is the last place the Feds would probably look for him.”

“And I will keep looking for work,” Daniel assured. “I’ll carry my weight, Landlord.”

“You just stay out of trouble,” Roy insisted. “No fighting. No drinking. No drugs. And if you really want a job, I will talk to my lady friend about getting you hired on at Kelly’s. They could use a busboy. Do we have a deal?”

Daniel hesitated then. He had planned to blow this town tonight. But now. . .Now he had a second chance here. He almost wished he could kiss James Cordova right now. Thanks to the man, he had a way to stay. And a chance to connect with his father.

His luck had certainly taken a major turn for the better. Corinthos on his side was good. But he had also had a chance encounter today that could prove to change everything for him.

He no longer had to search for his father. He knew the man was Port Charles. He had already met him earlier that day. Luck. Fate. It didn’t matter what he called it. All that mattered was that his father was near, and he had the opportunity to get to know him now. And that was worth any price.

He extended his hand and Roy accepted it. “Deal,” Jackson vowed.

***************

Chapter 9

***************

Roy DiLucca entered his small apartment, the smell of frozen pizza greeting him. Daniel Jackson had been living with him for nearly six weeks now, and he was surprised by how well the transaction had been between them.

The kid was easy to like once he had spent time with him. To his credit, Daniel had kept his end of their deal so far. He had enrolled in Port Charles’ high school. He had kept his grades up and stayed out of trouble.

Often Roy sensed certain insecurities in him, though. He went out of his way to ensure that he wasn’t under-foot. He never asked for anything. Never watched too much TV or played his music too loud. He didn’t stay out late or use the phone.

Roy sensed that the kid was trying to ensure that he wasn’t any “trouble” to him. It was unnerving sometimes how he acted more mature than half of the adults Roy knew. He had taken a real shine to Daniel and tried as hard as he could to make him feel at home here.

As far as he knew, Jackson had made no real friends except Maxie Jones. But he spent a good deal of his time avoiding her step-father Mac Scorpio at all costs. Not that he blamed Danny for that.

And he had kept his promise and found work. With Roy’s help, that was. His girlfriend Bobbie Spencer had given Daniel work as a busboy at his suggestion.

Bobbie had not entirely believed his explanation about Daniel being an “old friend”. But her distrust about Melissa Bedford had almost broken them up once. And while she did not accepted all of his story about the kid, she had agreed not to pressed him on the matter.

Daniel had used his earning wisely. He insisted on paying Roy rent, although it was not necessary. He also bought all of his clothes and most of his own food.

“The pizza smells good,” Roy stated, startling Jackson. He sat on the floor, his schoolbooks sprawled across the coffee table. Daniel was an unusual mixture of teen and adult. An old soul trapped in a young body, perhaps. Or just a kid too use to having a wealth of responsibility shoved off on him. It had made him old too soon. He had never had a chance to be young, and the thought made Roy sad.

“You’re welcome to share it with me,” Daniel generously offered, motioning to the left over food on the plate beside him. “I just wanted a little something to eat before I went to work.”

“I thought you had tonight off?” Roy stated.

“Luke called and asked if I could come in,” he stated. “Something about a big rush tonight.”

“Oh, God, will he be cooking?” Roy groaned. “Eat well before you go. I don’t want him killing you with his food.”

Daniel laughed, a rare sound from him. “Is he that bad?”

“Yes,” he insisted. “But you and he seem to get along, so maybe he won’t try to poison you after all.”

“I think he’s forgiven me for the fake ID thing,” Jackson admitted, stuffing his schoolbooks back into his backpack. He stood then, asking, “Do you want the pizza or should I toss it on the way out?”

“Leave it,” Roy insisted. “You want a ride to Kelly’s?”

“It’s a nice night. I think I will just walk,” he assured.

“Be careful!” Roy called as he left the apartment. Geez, he sounded like a father again. A father. . .

Sonny had related to them that, according to Cordova, Daniel was looking for his father in Port Charles. Yet he had said nothing to Roy about it.

Did Daniel know who he was? Had he found him yet? Did the kid even know where to look? Maybe it was time he broached the subject with him.

***************

Chapter 10

***************

“I thought you said tonight was suppose to be busy?” Daniel reminded, glancing around the deserted restaurant. “I guess word got out that you were cooking, huh?”

“That’s not funny!” Luke shouted from the kitchen. “Did Roy put you up to saying that?”

“No. He just warned me about your food,” he called back, claiming a seat at the counter.

Spencer came out of the kitchen then, a soda in hand. “Here,” he insisted, handing him the canned drink. “It is dead tonight, isn’t it?”

“The last two customers were over an hour ago and they ran when they heard you in the kitchen,” Jackson stated.

“Well, I tried to warn Barbara Jean, but she insisted that I look after the place tonight. And that I call you in,” Luke confided. “I think she had some big romantic plans for Roy this evening.”

“And she wanted me out of the house,” he finished. “I guess I do put a crimp in their romantic life, huh?”

“Well, I’m sure Roy doesn’t mind. I mean, with you being such a good friend of his and all,” Luke stated pointedly.

Daniel looked away then, refusing to meet his eyes. Roy had told the lie convincingly. Most had accepted the tale while others had not cared one way or the other who he was and what his connection to Roy might be. Bobbie had her suspicions, though. He had seen it in her eyes, but she had not pressed DiLucca on the matter. But Luke hadn’t believed a word of it, and made it more than obvious.

“So,” Spencer continued. “You’re from, uh, Minnesota, was it?”

“Michigan.”

“Yeah, right. Detroit. Funny, but I could have sworn that the ID you pulled in my office a few weeks back said your were from California. You do get around, Daniel. If that is even your name.”

“It is. Daniel Ryan,” he insisted. “From Detroit, Michigan.”

“And you’re mom was an old friend of Roy’s from way back when. Yeah, I’ve heard it before,” Luke insisted. “Look, kid, I am not out to bust you or anything. Just stop trying to play me for a fool. Now, I know that you’ve got a string of very realistic fake IDs. Professionally done, might I add. So that would tell me you were connected. Sonny Corinthos was looking for you a few weeks back, so that just enforces my belief that you’ve got low friends in high places. But Corinthos hasn’t killed you yet, so you must be on his side. Roy is covering for you, so you must be a nice enough kid. And you sure ain’t from anywhere North of the Mason-Dixon Line. It’s the accent, Danny. A little too slow on the drawl, shall we say. I’d say the Deep South. My first guess would have been Texas, but Tammy said you want to add shrimp gumbo to the menu, so I will go with Louisiana instead. How right am I?”

“Frighteningly accurate,” he admitted. “New Orleans.”

“The Big Easy,” Luke sighed. “Home of some great blues music.”

“No, no,” he disagreed. “We don’t have some good music. We have the *best* blues music in the country.”

“You’ve never seen my collection,” Luke assured. He was quiet for a moment, but then asked, “Who did you work for in New Orleans?”

“James Cordova,” he admitted.

“Cordova?” Luke grunted. “How’d a nice kid like you get mixed up with the likes of him.”

“Then you know him?”

“I’m heard of him,” Luke stated. “He and Sonny use to be partners in a little shipping venture. You see, Sonny and I go back. There’s alot of history in this town, kid.”

“I’m getting that,” he laughed. “And I use to call New Orleans ‘Sin City’. I’m starting to think it has nothing on Port Charles. So, have you ever been to New Orleans before?”

Luke’s comment was cut off as the door opened and a woman with a little girl entered. “Daddy!” the girl called, racing to Spencer.

“How’s my little Lulu?” he laughed, picking her up and hugging her. “Hello, Laura. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she assured, nodding to Daniel. “We were on our way home and Lulu started pleading with me for a milkshake.”

“Milkshake?” he repeated, tickling the girl. “I can make one of those. . .I think.”

“Why don’t you let me?” Daniel volunteered. “She’s too cute to have you give her food poison.”

Laura laughed at that, watching as the young man took her daughter from Luke and led her back towards the kitchen. “He has your number,” she pointed out. “Who is he, by the way?”

“A friend of Roy’s or something,” he shrugged. “Bobbie gave him a job to help him out.”

“He looks so familiar,” Laura stated.

“You know, I’ve thought the exact same thing,” Spencer admitted. “Since the first day I saw him. He reminds me of someone. I just can’t figure out who.”

“I know,” Laura agreed. “It seems like I should recognize him from somewhere. It’s the face. Or the eyes, one. I’ve seen them before.”

“Well, maybe you will have better luck figuring it out than I did,” he laughed. “So, how have you been?”

“Good,” she insisted with a radiant smile. “My work is going great. And Lulu is good. I’m really happy, Luke.”

“I’m glad,” he assured. “Are you, uh, seeing anyone these days?”

“You mean men?” she coyly asked. “Well, aside from my two beautiful son. . .No. I haven’t really had time for dating.”

“I miss you,” he spoke the words softly. They had the affect on her he had hoped for. He could see it in her eyes. God, did he dare dream that she missed him as much as he did her?

He reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “Laura, I--”

“I should have known you were cooking. No one is here,” Felicia Jones announced as she bounced through the door. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Laura jerked her hand away from his touch, turning to the other woman and assuring, “You didn’t. In fact, I should be going.”

“Laura,” he stated softly, but she ignored him.

“Lulu, honey, are you ready to go?” she called loudly.

Daniel stepped from the kitchen then, leading the girl. She stopped sipping her milkshake long enough to kiss Luke and whisper, “Bye, bye, Daddy.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, ruffling her hair.

Felicia waited until Laura and her daughter were out of the restaurant before stating, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were seeing Lulu tonight or I wouldn’t have stopped by.”

“It’s okay,” he assured. “Laura surprised me by bringing her by.”

“Well, I have another surprise for you,” she stated. “Close up early and come with me.”

“I can’t,” he disagreed. “Bobbie asked me to watch the place tonight.”

“Luke, you have no customers,” she stated the obvious. “And Daniel can close up, right, Danny?”

“Sure,” he agreed. “I can lock up, boss. No problem.”

“I’d prefer not to,” Spencer stated on a low voice. “The kid’s still a little new here. I’d hate to leave him alone.”

“Fine,” she agreed, turning to leave. “Give me a call, if you want to.”

Spencer groaned as she walked out of the door, running a hand through his hair. “Could that have gone any worse?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It depends on which one you are romancing. Laura or Felicia?”

“Laura is my ex-wife. We’ve got two kids together. That is all there is between us.”

“Not that you wouldn’t take more if she offered,” Daniel pressed.

“We have a history together. A long and complicated one. Of course I still care about her. I always will.”

“And the other one?”

“She’s a. . .friend.”

“A friend with a cop for an ex. Maxie explained it to me,” Daniel stated at the questioning look he got from the other man. “And I’ve had the *pleasure* of meeting him myself.”

“Aw, the good Commissioner Scorpio,” the sighed. “What did you think of him?”

“He didn’t seem that bad,” he shrugged. “What’s the deal with him, anyway?”

“He blames me for breaking up his happy home with Felicia.”

“But she got involved with you of her own free will,” Daniel stated. “It seems like more of his anger should be directed at her.”

“Why do you care about Mac Scorpio?” Luke suddenly asked.

“No reason,” he insisted, nervously wiping the counter.

“I think I know,” Luke stated. “It’s about Maxie, right? You’re friends with her.”

“Something like that,” he mumbled.

“Let’s close up early,” Luke announced.

“Whatever you want, boss,” Daniel agreed. “I’ll lock up if you want me to.”

“I’ll help,” he promised. “Then we will find something to amuse us for a few more hours. I doubt Bobbie and Roy would care to be interrupted right now. In fact, I just might let you hear my fabulous blues collection.”

***************

Chapter 11

***************

“I just can’t believe that you have *the* best blues collection in the country,” Daniel laughed as he and Luke Spencer walked through the crisp night air.

Luke started to reply as they rounded the corner, but the sound of loud voices cut him off. He stopped the boy by resting a hand on his arm. They stood at the top of the stairs, watching as the Cassadines argued on the docks below.

“Does everyone come here to fight?” Daniel curiously inquired.

“No. Just the blood suckers.”

“No need to hide in the shadows, Luke,” Helena Cassadine suddenly called out. “We will let you and your little friend pass.”

“Aw, the walking dead,” Luke sighed as he and Jackson walked down the steps and moved towards Helena, Stefan, and Nikolas. “Always a pleasure to see you.”

Helena made no comment to that, her attention seemed glued to the face of the boy that walked beside Spencer. Luke noticed her stare, and warned, “Be care, kid. She eats the young.”

“No need to be rude,” she chastised.

Luke turned to Daniel then, stating, “You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the town royalty yet, have you? That is the Queen Of The Damned right there, best known as The Wicked Witch Of Greece. Next to her is her son, Count Vlad. And that is Little Vlad,” he decreed, pointing to Nikolas. “That’s Count Vlad’s nephew. No, his son. No, make that his nephew. I never can keep up with it. They’re a confusing lot. Very. . .Greek.”

“Our encounters grow tiresome, Spencer,” Stefan finally spoke. “This is a family matter, if you do not mind.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” Luke assured. “Come on, Danny. Let’s get out of here. They bite when the moon is full.”

Nikolas stepped aside as the two walked past him. He turned back to his family and stated, “I will not do this with you again tonight. Good-bye.”

Stefan was surprised that Helena let her grandson leave with no disagreement. He belatedly realized Nikolas no longer held her attention. Instead, she stared after Spencer and the boy.

“Interested in obtaining a new towel boy, Mother?” he taunted, following her gaze. “I’m shocked. Even he is a bit young for you.”

When she made no comment, Stefan realized he had struck a nerve. His mother could be so easily read at times. “He is a handsome boy, isn’t he? I met him a few weeks past,” he continued to taunt. “There is something about him. He is. . .familiar looking, isn’t he?”

“I haven’t a clue what you mean,” she forced the lie past her suddenly dry throat.

“Of course you do, Mother. He reminds you of someone, too, doesn’t he? He certainly reminds me of someone,” Stefan softly admitted. “But have no fear, I will figure it out eventually. I always do.”

Helena refused to reply for fear that he might see what she was feeling. It would be much too dangerous for Stefan to know her thoughts this night.

She couldn’t imagine what *he* was doing here. How did he find this town? Why had he came? The mere notion of Daniel Jackson frightened her. Why was he with Spencer? What did be know? How much had his mother told him?

His mother, she thought with an inward shudder. Daniel Jackson had grown up to be the living, breathing image of his mother.

***************

Chapter 12

***************

It was close to one o’clock in the morning when Daniel slipped back into the dark apartment. He was starving, he belatedly realized. He moved to the kitchen and began raiding the refrigerator.

“You’re coming in late tonight.”

The voice startled him, and he whirled around to see Roy standing in the doorway. “I was with Luke,” he explained. “He said you and Bobbie wanted to be alone tonight.”

“She was here earlier. She left a few hours ago. Cut me a piece of that pie, will you?” he requested, taking two glasses from the cabinet. He filled them both with milk and handed one to Daniel. “I got an interesting call tonight. Sonny says he has been in contact with James Cordova.”

“How is he?” he asked, handing Roy the plate with his piece of apple pie on it.

“He’s doing great, actually,” DiLucca stated. “He’s got the Feds off his back for the time being.”

“How?”

“As it turns out, they had someone planted inside his organization. A woman, I understand. Cordova was buying information off of someone and he managed to throw the suspicion onto their inside agent. He’s got them pointing fingers at one another right now,” Roy stated. “The Feds have pulled their people out and are re-evaluating everything they thought they knew about the case.”

“So what does that mean?” Daniel hedged.

“It means that they are calling the dogs off of Cordova right now. They don’t want to discredit themselves with this investigation. Or make it look like they are trying to trap him or that they have dirty agents within their organization. So, if they are not after him anymore, then they’re not after you.”

“Meaning you want me to go back to New Orleans,” he added.

“No,” Roy assured. “Just the opposite, in fact. Cordova doesn’t want you returning just yet. He wants to be sure they are completely off his back before anyone knows where you are. It just means that you have some breathing room now. And you know that you are free to stay here as long as you want. I enjoy having you around.”

“Thanks,” he smiled in gratitude and relief. “I don’t believe this. I thought I’d at least be laying low until I turned eighteen. But now. . .”

“Don’t get a head of yourself,” Roy advised. “You are still underage with no legal guardian. If anyone finds that out, Social Services can still put you in a foster home. This just means that the Feds won’t be pushing you to testify if they find you.”

“But this still gives me some breathing room,” he admitted with a relieved laugh.

Roy studied him for a moment, realization dawning on him. Daniel had came here in search of his father, and he had more than likely found him by now. He had just kept his distance because of the mess he was involved in.

“Cordova told Sonny about your father being in town,” he admitted, watching the varying emotions that played across the boy’s face. “Are you thinking of reaching out to him now?”

“I don’t know,” he honestly admitted. “When I was laying low, it was easy to rationalize why I shouldn’t tell him. I just repeated to myself that it wouldn’t be fair to drag him into my problems. Especially since they concerned the mob and the law. But now. . .”

“Now you have no reason not to tell him,” Roy acknowledged. “Have you located him yet?”

“Yes,” he admitted, reaching for his wallet. He opened it and produced a picture. He hesitated a moment, but then handed it to Roy. “The woman is my mother. I think you know who the man is, don’t you?”

“My God,” Roy whispered in disbelief, unable to take his eyes off the photo. The woman was undeniably Daniel’s mother. The resemblance was too strong to deny. And the man. . .Was it possible? Could *he* be Daniel’s father? “Are you sure about him?”

Daniel reached around his neck and pulled the locket from under his shirt. He unhooked it and handed it to Roy. “My mother told me that this was the key to finding my father. Look at the inscription on the back. The initials match. She never told me his name, but before she died, she did say that he was in Port Charles. And I found that in her jewelry box right after she died. So, yes, I think he could be my father.”

“Will you tell him?” Roy asked.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he stated honestly. “But I will ask that you not tell him.”

DiLucca sighed, stating, “It is your business. I’ll let you handle it ever how you see fit. But I hope you do decide to tell him. He should know. You‘re a good kid, Danny. Any father would be proud to claim you.”

“Thank you,” Danny stated sincerely. “For everything.”

Roy offered him a reassuring smile. He reached for the picture one last time, shaking his head in disbelief. This was the last thing he expected.

***************

Chapter 13

***************

“I don’t see the point in this,” Daniel complained, tugging at the tie that felt more like a noose around his neck.

“Consider it a boy’s night out, Sonny Corinthos’ style,” Roy laughed as they entered the Port Charles Grille. Carly and Bobbie were spending a mother/daughter evening together, so Sonny had offered to treat his close friends to dinner. The hostess approached them, and Roy spoke, “We’re here to meet Sonny Corinthos.”

“Right this way,” the young woman insisted, leading them to a private dining room were Sonny and Jason Morgan were waiting for them already.

“How does it fell to be free man of sorts,” Jason asked Daniel after the waiter had taken their order and left.

“Good,” he smiled in relief, flashing two perfect dimples.

“I talked to James again today,” Sonny put in. “He says it looks like he has the Feds completely off his back, but he still wants you to lay low for awhile.”

“Do you hear that?” a distracted Daniel suddenly asked.

“Hear what?” Roy inquired.

“I don’t know,” he answered, glancing around the room. “A ticking noise or something. It could be the clock, I guess.”

“More than likely,” Jason assured, glancing towards the huge wall clock that ticked over Daniel’s head.

“James wants to know if you need anything,” Corinthos stated.

“No, I-I’m fine,” a visibly distracted Daniel assured. He couldn’t believe the others didn’t hear that irritating noise.

Roy raised his glass of water then, toasting, “To freedom, Danny.”

“Here, here,” Jason joined in.

Sonny laughed, adding, “Every man in this room knows the relief of having the cops off of his back. Consider this night as our celebration to your freedom.”

“I will drink to that,” Daniel agreed, holding up his glass of water in a toast and taking a sip.

Two waiters interrupted then, entering the room and placing their food before them. Daniel ate quietly, listening to the conversation of the other men. He enjoyed their company. It was nice to feel as if he belonged somewhere. It was a wonderful evening. . .with the excepting of that irritating sound.

“Are you sure you don’t hear that?” he asked Roy.

“I don’t hear anything,” DiLucca turned to him, accidentally knocking over his wineglass in the process. He tried to catch it, but it tipped over, spilling across the table and into Daniel’s lap. He released a groan of irritation, apologizing, “I’m sorry. Look at the mess I made.”

Jackson reached for a napkin and brushed some of the red liquid from his pants. “Don’t sweat it. Besides, it’s your suit, anyway,” he joked.

“Thanks for reminding me,” he sighed, looking at the stained shirt and pants. “Maybe you should go to the men’s room and see if you can get some of the stain out before it sets in permanently.”

“Sure,” Jackson nodded, standing and leaving the private dining room. He turned in the direction of the men’s room, but was distracted by the sound of voices. Two men argued in the second private dining room next to theirs, and he belatedly recognized them as Nikolas and Stefan Cassadine.

“I came here to have a nice, quiet dinner with my mother,” Nikolas insisted, his voice echoing in the empty room. “I didn’t want to get into this with you again!”

“Nikolas, please,” Stefan pleaded, his voice rough with emotions. “I do not know how to reach you. To make you understand why I did what I did. I took no pleasure in hurting you, but Helena had me trapped. I was trying to protect you!”

“Cut the bull, Uncle,” he interrupted. “You were just trying to win a few more rounds against Helena. But I don’t care anymore. How do I make you realize that? I do not want to be the Cassadine Prince,” he stressed. “And I don’t want to hear your lies anymore.”

“I am not lying to you,” Stefan insisted. “And, please, do not say those things. You are meant to be the Prince, Nikolas. I devoted my life to raising you to be that. I devoted my life to loving you like you were my own son.”

“Then I guess you wasted your life, didn’t you?” the young man snapped coldly.

Stefan flinched as if he had been physically struck. Even from this distance, Daniel could see the pain those words had caused. And it filled him with fury. Perhaps because he knew that feeling. His mother’s old boyfriends had been more that willing to teach him the pain of a physical and a mental beating.

“Please, do not say that, Nikolas. You don’t mean it. You can’t.”

“But I can--”

“Why don’t you lay off,” Daniel surprised himself as well as the two men with his demand.

“This is a private conversation,” Nikolas turned to him as he stated. “You know nothing about this.”

Jackson hesitated then. He hadn’t meant to get involved in this squabble, but since he’d already put his foot in the door, he might as well finish it.

He stepped into the room then, walking to the young man with dark hair. They were almost the same height and he could look him dead in the eye.

“I will tell you what I know,” Jackson snapped. “I know that you are hurting someone who obviously cares about you and you are doing it on purpose. Now, that either makes you a spoiled brat or a heartless bastard.”

“Stay out of this,” Nikolas warned.

“Or what?” he challenged. “You’re going to use big words to scare me off? I grew up on the streets, my friend. You will have to do better than that against me.”

“No, I don’t have to do anything at all because I don’t care what you think of me. Or what he thinks,” Nikolas decreed, pointedly glancing at his uncle before strolling from the room.

Daniel watched him leave, incredulously shaking his head as he asked, “Did you raise him to be that ungrateful or is it a talent he’s acquired?”

“He was correct,” Stefan rose to the defense of his nephew. “You have no business in this conversation. It does not concern you.”

“You’re just going to take that off of him *and* defend him afterwards?” he asked in disbelief.

“His accusations hold merit. I have hurt him deeply.”

“Yeah, well, so what?” he shrugged. “This is the real world. Life stinks half the time but you live with it. Maybe you did hurt him, but you obviously care about him, too. That would matter to some people. I know it would matter a hell of alot to me.”

“Thank you,” Cassadine stated sincerely. Again, he was struck by the feeling that he knew this boy from somewhere. He was on the verge of asking him exactly who he was, but his comment was cut short by the screams.

***************

Chapter 14

***************

“He should be back by now,” Roy DiLucca stated, glancing towards the door of the dining room.

“Relax,” Jason insisted. “He probably just stopped to flirt with a pretty waitress or something.”

Sonny chuckled, adding, “You sound like his father, Roy.”

“Yeah, right,” he mumbled. Daniel’s father. . .No, it wasn’t him. But it was someone he knew all too well.

“I think I will call home and check on Michael. He had an earache this morning,” Sonny suddenly announced, reaching into his jacket pocket and retrieving his cell phone. He looked down at it and swore, “Damn. The battery is low.”

“Use mine,” Jason volunteered from the end of the table. He stood and walked to his employer, claiming the seat that belonged to Daniel. “It is new and a little tricky so I might have to show you. . .”

“I can figure out a phone,” Sonny insisted when the other man’s voice trailed off.

Jason held up a silencing hand, his attention drawn elsewhere. “I hear what Daniel was talking about,” he whispered, dropping to the floor. He lifted the tablecloth and look under the table, seeing nothing. But the noise was so nearby.

He froze for a moment, a sick feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he slowly turned to the chair. He gently laid it back, groaning, “Oh, God, it’s a bomb.”

“What?!” Sonny shouted. “Can you disarm it?”

“No,” Jason insisted, standing and grabbing Corinthos by the arm. “And we’ve got less than a minute. Get out of here! Go!”

“Daniel--” a worried Roy began. Jason grabbed him before he could protest anymore and pushed him from the room.

“Get out!” Morgan shouted to the stunned crowd. “It’s a bomb!”

***************

Chapter 15

***************

“Bomb?” Stefan Cassadine repeated the word that was being screamed from the main dining room. He took a step towards the door, but was blown back by the force of the explosion in the next room.

Daniel lost his balance as well, falling into the table. From above them, a light teetered dangerously from its wiring. He watched in horrible slow motion as the last wire broke and it crashed towards them.

He pushed himself forward with a surge of strength, tacking Cassadine and knocking them both to the floor. They narrowly rolled free as the light crashed inches from them.

Daniel caught the other man by the collar and pushed him towards the safety of the wall. But it was not enough to protect them from the second explosion.

***************

Chapter 16

***************

Luke Spencer pushed his way through the crowd outside of the Port Charles Grille, fear gripping him like a vice. Laura had dropped Lulu off with him earlier that evening and told him that she was having dinner here tonight with her son Nikolas. And then he had heard the horrible report on the news.

An explosion at the Grille.

The blinding lights of ambulances and the screaming sound of the fire engine nearly shattered his nerves. The police were taping off the area. Firemen raced in and out of the building, evacuating the injured and loading them into awaiting ambulances.

He saw Mac Scorpio shouting orders and moved toward him.

“Not now, Spencer,” Mac warned, brushing past him. Luke turned and followed him.

Sonny Corinthos sat on the ground as a paramedic checked him out. Mac stopped in front of him, stating, “It was meant for you, wasn’t it, Corinthos?”

The man stood then, brushing some of the dust and grime from his suit. “Don’t blame this one on me! It is not my fault that your people can’t control Sorel!”

“Sorel is in prison!” Scorpio shouted back.

“And even that hasn’t stopped him!” Sonny reminded. “Or should I say, you haven’t stopped him from running his organization from inside your jailhouse!”

“This is your fault,” Luke decreed in anger. “Do you know that Laura was in there!”

“Laura?” Mac whispered in worry.

“Yes. How bad was it?” Spencer asked, terrified of the answer.

“The bomb was meant only for Sonny and his friends,” Mac explained. “It was only large enough to kill the ones in that room, and maybe hurt anyone in the next room. But the hostess assured me that no one was in the second dining room tonight.”

“There were two explosions,” Sonny disagreed. “I distinctively heard two.”

“The bomb set the back wall on fire. Unfortunately, the kitchen is directly behind that wall. The fire caused an explosion in there.”

“Luke!” a new voice sounded behind them. Spencer turned in relief at the sound of the voice.

“Laura,” he whispered softly, racing across the short distance and sweeping her into his arms for a crushing embrace. He held her as tightly as he could, burying his face in her soft hair as he whispered her name over and over. “I thought I had lost you.”

“You can’t lose me,” Laura vowed, cupping his face. “I am here. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you,” he whispered the tender words. “I never stopped.”

“Luke,” she sighed in wonder. “I--”

“Laura, thank God you are okay,” Mac interrupted then as he and Sonny walked towards them.

“I’m fine,” she assured. “And so is Nikolas. He’s looking for Stefan right now.”

“What about you, Corinthos?” Mac asked. “Is all your party accounted for?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I know Jason got out. But I lost him and Roy in the crowd. And Daniel. . .Luke, I don’t think Danny got out.”

***************

Chapter 16

***************

Stefan Cassadine rolled over with a groan, kicking a large piece of debris off of him in the process. He lay on his back for a second, desperately trying to clear his mind. He remembered arguing with Nikolas and then--

“Daniel,” he groaned, forcing his aching body to sit up. There was a dim light in the room and it offered him a view of his surroundings. Part of the ceiling and the wall had collapsed, blocking the door. The room was filled with so much dust and debris that he barely recognized anything.

“Daniel,” he called again.

“Over here,” he received the weak reply.

His vision started to focus then, and he saw the teenager. He was sitting up, his back propped against the wall. “Are you hurt?”

“Not too bad,” Daniel purposely lied. The truth was, he had been awake for at least twenty minutes. He had seen Cassadine across the room and had wanted to help the man, but he hadn’t been able to.

Stefan stood then and moved towards the blocked doorway. He started pulling at the debris that blocked their exit. “Come over here and give me a hand with this.”

Jackson took a deep, painful breath and tired to push himself to his feet. His knees gave way and he sank back to the floor.

“I need your assistance with this,” Cassadine repeated. “It is too heavy to move by myself.”

“I can’t. . .help you. . .” he admitted.

Stefan turned then. Something in the boy’s voice concerned him. He sounded too weak. He moved to Daniel then, kneeling beside him. He noticed how eerily pale the boy was, his lips an unnatural color. He visibly struggled with each breath.

“You are hurt,” he insisted.

“No,” Daniel shook his head. “Not like you think. I just can’t breath.”

“You could have rib injuries. A damaged lung,” Stefan pondered aloud.

“Help me sit up,” he requested. “That always helps.”

Stefan done as asked of him. He sat down beside the boy and helped him sit up. He let the teen lean against him for support. He had to hold the boy’s upper arms to keep him upright. His concern intensified then. He was too weak to even sit up on his own.

“That’s better,” Daniel lied, still struggling to breath.

“I’m sure they are looking for us,” he tried to assure. “Help will be here soon.”

Daniel tried to laugh, but it ended in a harsh, wheezing sound. “James always said I wanted to go out with a bang. I just never thought he meant literally.”

“Who’s James?” he asked.

“Friend. . .of mine.”

“Maybe you should lie back down,” Cassadine insisted in concern. “If you have internal injuries moving too much might make them worse.”

“Asthma,” he gasped. “I have asthma.”

“Then you should have an inhaler,” Stefan sighed in relief. “You must have some medication on you.”

Daniel shook his blonde head negatively. He didn’t have the strength to explained that it was hard to keep up doctor’s appointments when he was suppose to be staying out of sight. Besides, he hadn’t had an attack in years. His doctors in New Orleans had been pleased, stating that his condition seemed to be getting better with age.

“I should try digging us out,” Cassadine stated.

“Do you smell that?” he whispered on a struggling breath.

“Yes,” Stefan admitted, inhaling deeply. “It smells like gas. The explosion must have ruptured a line somewhere.”

Daniel glanced at the other man’s face, knowing what he would see there. They were in serious trouble now. He knew he couldn’t breathe those fumes for too long and stay conscious. That is, if he could keep breathing at all. And he was too weak to help dig them out.

“Go,” he insisted. “See if you can get out.”

The order stunned Cassadine for a moment. The boy was telling him to save himself, basically. And maybe if he dug hard enough he would find a way out. But the more he moved around, the more oxygen he would use up. And that would he a death sentence for this boy.

“They’re probably looking for us right now,” he tried to assure. “I think I will just wait things out with you.”

“So we die together?” Danny wheezed. “That’s stupid. Noble. . .but stupid.”

Stefan laughed at that, admitting, “I don’t believe anyone has ever called me that before.”

“Noble? Or stupid?”

“Which one do you think?” Stefan asked.

“Start digging,” Daniel pleaded. “Otherwise. . .your nephew. . .will have to feel guilty for the rest. . .of his life for the way he. . .talked to you.”

“And what of you?” Stefan inquired. “Your family must be worried over you.”

Jackson shook his head, each breath rattling in his chest. Stefan was starting to seriously worry for him. A fine sheen of sweat had popped out on his forehead and his eyelids were drooping. If he lost consciousness--

“Stay awake,” Cassadine ordered, giving the boy a slight shake. “Talk to me if you can.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing a priest right about now,” he forced the laugh. “I’ve long over due for a confession. I’d hate to go into the here after with a guilty conscience.”

“I’m no priest,” Stefan stated the obvious, “but I will hear your confession if it will keep you talking and awake.”

“Okay. I really did. . .try to steal your wallet that day,” Daniel admitted. “Roy was just covering for me.”

“If that is the worst thing you have done, I don’t think you have to worry,” Cassadine tried to assure. “My list of sins is much longer than that. Of course, you regret trying to steal from me, I am sure.”

“One of a thousand regrets,” he admitted sadly. “One. . .of a thousand.”

“We all have our regrets,” Stefan sighed. “I forgive you for the wallet. Does your conscience feel better now?”

“Not really,” he sighed. “My father. . .I meant to tell him. . .”

“Tell him what?” he pressed, concerned by how weak his voice sounded.

Daniel took a harsh breath, the weakness starting to get the better of him. His head fell back against the wall. All he wanted was to sleep.

“Daniel!” Stefan shouted in his ear, lightly slapping his cheek in an attempt to get a response from him. His eyes fluttered open again. “Keep talking. Tell me about your father. . .”

***************

Chapter 17

***************

“You need to go to the hospital,” Sonny insisted, eyeing the huge gash on the forehead of Roy DiLucca.

Roy ignored the words, asking instead, “Have you found Daniel yet?”

“Jason is still looking. He could be in the crowd somewhere,” Corinthos tried to assure. “Or maybe one of the ambulances took him onto the hospital.”

“I can’t find Stefan,” Nikolas Cassadine shouted as he raced towards the group.

“Pity,” Luke muttered sarcastically under his breath.

Laura moved from his side, taking her son’s hands and insisting, “I’m sure he is around here somewhere.”

“You don’t understand,” he rambled. “I was horrible to him earlier. I said things I did not mean. I was just so angry.”

“Where did you last see him?” Laura inquired.

“We were in the private dining room next to the one were the bomb was,” Nikolas revealed. “Oh, God, what if he was still in there when--”

“No,” Laura interrupted. “Don’t even think that.”

“Where is your friend?” Nikolas demanded, turning to Luke. “The blonde kid that I saw you with the other night. Where is he?!”

“What do you want with Danny?” Luke asked.

“He can tell me where Stefan is. He was with us in the room--”

“Daniel was in the next room?” Roy demanded. “Oh, no. No. Come with me, Luke.”

Spencer fell into step with him as they raced to where Mac Scorpio stood. “Two people were in the room next to ours,” Roy began. “Have you found them yet?”

“I was assured that no one was in that room,” Mac replied.

“It looks like Cassadine and Daniel might have been in there,” Luke stated. “Look, just send some of your boys in to check it out.”

“We’re pulling our people out,” Mac revealed. “There is a broken gas line. It isn’t safe for them in there right now.”

“You can’t do that!” Roy shouted. “How long would it take to search the room?”

“I’ve been in there,” Scorpio admitted. “Half a wall and part of the ceiling collapsed in that room. We’d have to dig out the rubble to get into it.”

“Then start digging,” DiLucca shouted.

“We can’t use the equipment because of the gas fumes. One spark could send the entire place up.”

“What if two people are still in there and you leave them to die?” Roy insisted, seeing the other man waver. “Can you live with that?”

“We will have to dig by hand,” Mac insisted. “I’ll start getting some people together.”

DiLucca nodded as he walked past him, turning to Spencer. “We’ll get Jason and Sonny’s people to give us a hand. Come on.”

“Whoa, slow down,” Luke ordered. “Listen, I like the kid, too, but leave this to the people who know what they are doing, Roy. We could just get in the way.”

“No,” Roy insisted. “We are going in there to help. Especially you.”

“Why me?”

In a furious voice, Roy decreed, “Because he is your son, dammit!”

***************

Chapter 18

***************

*He is your son, dammit.*

Your son. . .

“My son,” Luke shook his head in disbelief, pacing the waiting room of General Hospital. It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t.

He had joined in on the efforts to dig though the rubble hours ago. Amazingly, they had found both Cassadine and Daniel alive. Well, barely alive. Cassadine had been the least for wear, but Danny. . .He had a pulse, Luke had heard one of the paramedics say, but he was not breathing. They had still been working on him when they had loaded him into the ambulance and came here.

Roy DiLucca stepped from one of the small examining rooms then, Bobbie soothing a piece of tape over the stitches that had just been put into his forehead. The pair moved towards him.

“Have you heard anything?” Roy asked.

“Nothing,” Luke sighed. “Uh, Bobbie, would you see what you can find out for us, honey?”

“Sure,” his sister agreed, leaving the two men alone.

Roy sighed when the other man settled his angry blue gaze on him. “I guess you have a lot of questions for me, don’t you?”

“That is an understatement.”

“I can only tell you what he told me,” Roy stated, sitting down in a nearby chair and indicating for his friend to do the same. “Before his mother died, she told him that his father was in Port Charles. He found a picture of you and his mother in her things.”

“That’s it?” Luke stated in disbelief. “I don’t even know this kid! I have never seen him before he came here.”

“You are the man in that picture,” Roy assured, stopping as Bobbie and Dr. Tony Jones walked towards them.

Sonny Corinthos saw the doctor from across the room and moved closer to hear his verdict.

“He’s stable,” Tony answered the question in their eyes, an assuring smile on his face. “He appears to have a few bruised ribs, but no internal damage.”

“But he wasn’t breathing when they pulled him out,” Luke reminded, worry lingering in his face.

“Stefan Cassadine was kind enough to relate his asthma condition to us. He had a very serious attack, but we’ve given him a mild amount of medication to counteract that,” he assured, sitting down beside Roy. “Now, I understand that you are his temporary guardian. I need you to tell me what doctor in Detroit he used because I have to send for his medical records.”

“I don’t know,” Roy hesitantly revealed.

“Then I need you to get in touch with his mother. She‘s overseas, right?” he insisted. When the other man made no reply, he pressed on, “I don’t think you understand the severity of this, Roy. I don’t know what medication he is taking. I don’t know how serious his asthma is. And I don’t know what he might be allergic to. I could kill him if I give him the wrong medication. Now, I can’t just call every hospital in Michigan and ask for records on a Daniel Ryan--”

“Jackson,” Sonny spoke up. “Daniel Jackson is his name. He’s from New Orleans, Louisiana. Come with me. I know who to call to get his doctor’s name.”

“Jackson?” Luke repeated as the two men walked away. “Jackson is his real name?”

“I think his mother’s name was Melanie.”

“Oh, my God,” Luke whispered, running a hand through his hair. “Melanie Jackson. Oh, Roy, he looks just like her. I see it now.”

“Then you knew her,” Roy lightly accused.

“Back in Texas. Her stepfather owned this little bar I use to go to sometimes.”

“But you and Laura were still married,” Roy started, but broke off then. “You cheated on her.”

“We had a fight,” Spencer rationalized. “I went to the bar and got drunk. I woke up the next morning on Melanie’s couch. She swore nothing had happened.”

“But obviously it did,” Roy finished.

“I don’t believe this,” he sighed. “Daniel is Melanie Jackson’s kid.”

“Melanie?” Laura Spencer asked, startling both men. “That is a name from the past.”

“You know who we’re talking about?” Roy hesitantly asked.

“Of course I remember her,” Laura laughed. “A girl doesn’t easily forget one of her best friends.”

***************

Chapter 19

***************

Luke handed Laura the steaming cup of coffee, his eyes never leaving her face. He wanted her by his side, and he wanted her gone at the same time. Heaven help him, had he betrayed her with her friend Melanie? Was Daniel his son? And how did he tell her that?

“You should be home,” he reminded. “It’s late.”

“My mother is with Lulu,” she assured. “And I wanted to see how Nikolas was doing. I know he came here with Stefan.”

Luke sighed then. Nikolas. He had once been furious at Laura for having a child with another man and not telling him about it. Had be done the same to her now? Had he sired a son with her friend Melanie Jackson?

“I know what you are thinking about,” she sympathized, taking his hand. “It is so hard to believe. Melanie’s son in Port Charles. I never even knew she had a child.”

“Me, either,” he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“I can’t even recall her dating anyone. In fact, I always thought she had a crush on you,” she teased. “But judging by his age. . .Luke, she must have been pregnant with him when she left Texas and moved to New Orleans.”

“I know,” he nodded. “I, uh, I thought she called you a couple of times after she moved. She never mentioned anything?”

“No,” Laura sighed, confused. “It hurts me a bit. I always considered her a good friend. It seems like that is something she would have confided to me. It is so sad to know that she is gone now. And her poor son.”

“Laura, I have to tell you something,” he stated suddenly.

“Luke,” Roy called from across the room, motioning to him. He stood reluctantly and walked to his friend.

“What are you doing?” DiLucca hissed. “You can’t tell Laura about this right now. This Melanie was her friend. Listen to me, Luke: I promised Daniel I would not say anything to you about who he is. I just. . .after the explosion, I was so worried and I blurted it out. He is going to be furious with me for telling you. And Laura is going to be very hurt. Do not tell her until you know for sure. Talk to Daniel and sort this out with him first. Speaking of which, Tony just told me that he can have visitors. I think you should go first.”

Luke nodded, stepping around his friend. His long legs carried him down the polished halls and towards the small room. He pushed the curtain back silently, stopping at the sight of Stefan Cassadine standing over the bed.

Nurse Melissa Bedford stood near him, softly explaining, “His medical records were faxed to us earlier. Dr. Jones has been in contact with the last physician who treated him. We know how to best treat the asthma now. Dr. Jones gave him a mild sedative, so he will sleep for awhile longer.”

He cleared his throat loudly, prompting both to turn. Melissa quietly excused herself then.

“What are you doing here, Cassadine?” he snapped.

“The boy saved my life,” he replied. “During the explosion, he pushed me to safety. I wanted to check on him.”

“Then consider your good dead of the day to be done,” he sarcastically drawled.

Stefan moved to the head of the bed then. He reached a hand out to wipe a smudge of dirt from Daniel’s sleeping face. “The first time I saw him, I was struck by the feeling that I knew him from somewhere. That he appeared familiar to me. I haven’t been able to put that feeling aside. Does he remind you of anyone, Luke?” he purposely baited.

Luke stilled at the words. Stefan was acting like he knew. But there was no way, he tried to reassure himself. The man was just being his usual, antagonizing self.

“He reminds me of someone,” Stefan continued. “I just haven’t decided who yet--”

“It’s almost daylight,” Luke cheerfully interrupted. “Shouldn’t you fly back to your coffin? I hear your kind doesn’t do well in sunlight.”

“I will be seeing you,” he assured. Glancing back at Daniel, he added, “Both of you.”

“Stay away from him,” Spencer snapped before he could catch himself.

Stefan smiled coldly at that, then turned on his heal and walked away.

***************

Chapter 20

***************

Melissa Bedford stood at the nurse’s desk, scribbling several notes down on the charts before her. Someone cleared their voice behind her, and she turned to see Roy DiLucca.

“How is he, Melissa?” he asked.

“Daniel will be fine,” she assured, a hint of coldness in her voice. “He is resting comfortably right now. No thanks to you and your friends. He has asthma, Roy. That is a very serious medical condition. How could you not ensure that he went to every doctor’s appointment? You are his legal guardian, you should be the one making certain that he takes his medication every day. Otherwise, you might as well smother him with a pillow! You get the same desired effect as letting his condition go untreated.”

“I didn’t know he had asthma,” he insisted.

“How could you not know?!”

“Because up until a few weeks ago, I had never laid eyes on the kid before,” he hissed. With a sigh, he told her a quick version of the truth. Explaining that his old agency had been looking for Daniel in hopes of forcing his testimony. Or making him pay a terrible price if he chose to keep silent.

Melissa listened to the tale, sighing in disgust. “So, in other words, your friends want to do to that poor kid what they did to my brother? Force him to talk or send him to prison.”

“Yes. And, like Leo, Danny had no intentions of talking. I didn’t want to see them turn him into another Leo. He’s a good kid. I was just trying to keep him safe.”

“You wanted to protect him because you couldn’t protect my brother,” she realized, her anger fading. “Roy, we had to send for his medical records. Now everyone here knows who he really is. It is only a matter of time before the police identify him.”

“Not necessarily,” he hedged meaningfully.

“You want me to hide who he really is from the cops?” she whispered in a hushed tone. “You are asking me to break the law! Possibly even doctor medical records to change his name and social security number and--

“It is either that or let them arrest him! Do you want to see him end up like your brother?”

“That is not fair,” she snapped. “I. . .I can’t hide his identity from the police. But I won’t volunteer the information, either.”

“Thank you, Melissa--”

“Miss Bedford,” Stefan Cassadine interrupted, joining the pair. “I hope that you are enjoying your employment here at the hospital with us.”

“Yes, I am, Mr. Cassadine,” she assured. “I am very grateful that the administration agreed to hire me.”

“Please, call me Stefan,” he requested, smiling at the beautiful woman. “And it is we who are lucky to have your skills.”

“If you don’t mind,” Roy rudely butted in, “we are having a private conversation here.”

“By all mean, continue,” Stefan insisted, stepping away from the nurse’s station and turning to see his mother watching him.

“Interested in acquiring yourself another blonde bunny, my oh so predictable son?” Helena Cassadine taunted.

“Mother,” he greeted. “What brings you by at this hour? Concerned for my health? I am deeply touched.”

“I heard Nikolas was there when the explosion occurred. I wanted to ensure myself of his well being,” she told the lie convincingly. “I heard many people were injured.”

“Yes, but luckily no fatalities. Nikolas was unharmed. He has already returned to his cottage. But I was trapped for some time within the building after the explosion. I was with the boy who we saw with Luke Spencer the other night,” he intentionally taunted. “You recall, I am sure. The one you were so interested in.”

“I haven’t a clue what you are babbling about.”

“We had an interesting talk,” he continued his antagonizing.

“About what?” Helena could not help herself from asking.

“Family,” he replied. “We spoke of family.”

Helena felt herself pale at the words, stepping aside and allowing her son to pass. Daniel Jackson was proving to be more of a threat than she had ever anticipated. If Stefan ever learned the truth. . .She shuddered at the mere thought of that. If only she knew exactly how much the boy knew. What--if anything--had Melanie Jackson told her son?

She saw her manservant Andreas standing behind the nurses’ station and nodded for him to rejoin her. She had sent him over in the hope that he could eavesdrop on the conversation with the nurse and that dreadful Roy DiLucca. She needed to know what DiLucca’s connection to Daniel was.

“Did you hear anything useful?” she inquired.

“Yes, Madam,” he smiled triumphantly. “Mr. DiLucca is quite worried about the local authorities discovering the boy’s true identity.”

“Really,” she thoughtfully inquired, twirling her pearl necklace around her finger. “Andreas, I want you to find out all the information you can about Daniel Jackson. Any weakness he might have. A way to control him and, preferably, remove him from Port Charles permanently.”

“Yes, Madam,” he promised.

“If your investigation turns up any criminal past he is running from, then make sure the local authorities receive an anonymous tip about his presence here in town. Daniel Jackson is a problem that we must solve. As swiftly and finally as possible.”

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