I told you this workshop thing would be messy. I figured out what I wanted to do with Fool Me Twice, but for it to work, I have to rewrite Jason’s entire return (and edit some of the intervening 2015-17 because I did not watch all of that foolishness). So I wrote the first draft until I wrote myself into a corner.
And then today, I think…I think I figured out how to tie all together, make Jason’s return an actual umbrella story that might affect more people and use more GH history. I don’t know. You let me know.
So you can still enjoy the first collection of scenes, but we’re starting over. So…
This was written in 32 minutes. No spell check or editing.
Somewhere in Port Charles
Andre Maddox managed a tight smile at the olive-skinned, dark-haired man who sat behind a dark mahogany desk. Even before the man spoke, Andre knew his words would be tinged with a thick accent.
He had had it with Greeks.
It had been another Greek, one who had ushered him into an office such as this almost six years ago with an offer. To continue his research, to take it even further than he had dreamed, to have all the resources of the World Security Bureau at his fingertips, an unlimited budget.
And no FDA or stringent federal regulations to hold him back.
So Andre had closed his eyes. Looked the other way. Ignored the signs.
Sold his soul to Mephistopheles in a Faustian pact.
The Greek body man in his dark black suit stood and tipped his head towards the open office door. “He is waiting for you, Doctor.”
Andre stepped over threshold into the office and frowned. He did not recognize the man sititing behind the desk, perusing paerwork, a pair of half-moon glasses perched at the edge of his known His hair might have been a sandy brown at one time, but it was salt and pepper now. His cheeks chiseled, his eyes dark.
Another Cassadine slithering from the cracks of the earth. If Andre had thought he was free with the deaths of Helena and her brother-in-law….he was obviously mistaken.
“Pardon me,” Andre said coolly when the man did not raise his head. “You summoned me.”
“Yes.” The man set aside the paperwork, placed his pen carefully on top, and removed his glasses. “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice. I apologize for the mysterious nature of my missive and the…poor accomodations. I had little choice.” The man tipped his head. “You see, I have been dead for many years, and I am not quite yet ready to come back to life.”
Cassadines. Andre snorted, lowered himself into a seat in front of the desk. “You said you were interested in my research—”
“Yes, in ending it.” The man was unsmiling. “You have done what you set out to do. You’ve successfully mapped memories from one person to another. Removed memories from a third person. Created a trigger to assist in the retrieval of one’s memory. What is left?”
Andre sucked in a deep breath. “I…have test subjects in the field. The long-term impact—”
The man shook his head. “Did you never wonder at the identity of the men brought to you? Why you were asked to proceed as you have?”
“I—” Andre clenched his fists in his lap. “I don’t ask questions that don’t need to be answered.”
“Fair enough. Let me introduce myself then, so that we may be clear. My name is Stefan Cassadine. My mother was Helena Cassadine. I have spent the majority of my adult life sweeping up after her curses and her vendettas. And this is one that must come to an end.”
Andre just stared at the man for a long moment. He, of course, knew of Stefan Cassadine. One did not go into busienss with the Cassadines without learning something. But Stefan Cassadine had been dead for fifteen years. Where had he been? And why was he here now? “Sir. Mr. Cassadine—”
“You are currently treating Jacob Webber.” Stefan Cassadine picked up the pen, tapped it against his palm. “Does it not trouble you to be the reason for his therapy?”
“I am not—”
“Did you not help my mother plant false suggestions in his head? Allow her to give him instructions? Place the trigger in his mind so that he could carry them out?”
Andre hesitated, nodded reluctantly. “I developed the technology. The method. I did not—Helena had another researcher do the actual work. I was—I was horrified when I realized Jake—I’ve tried to help him.”
“Yes, yes, you’ve been quite good to the boy. Even as you lie to him about his father.”
“Mr. Cassadine, I’m not sure you understand what I was doing with my research—”
“Did you never wonder at the machinations of my mother? What she could possibly want with Jacob Webber? Jason Morgan?” Stefan raised his brow. “Robert Frank?”
Andre waited a moment. “I didn’t ask.”
“That was not my question, but I’ll allow it.” Stefan leaned forward. “Truth be told, I might have allowed this to continue. Allowed you to continue carrying out your research, playing with the minds of people I could care less for. But your project has intercepted my own plans, and I cannot allow anything to come between me and what I want most in the world.”
“Valentin Cassadine murdered my nephew and stole his inheritance. Cast my grand-nephew into the streets. I have been waiting for the right moment, the right way to deal with him. I wanted to know if he was in league with my mother.”
“I never saw Valentin—”
“Last week, he sent Ava Jerome to the clinic in Russia where my mother has kept Jason Morgan drugged in a coma for the better part of five years.” Stefan smirked. “Until six months ago. When I countermanded the orders and changed his medication. I wanted to know what Valentin knew. He knows about the clinic. He must be involved.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand—”
“When Jason Morgan makes his way back to Port Charles—and he will—I intend to tell him exactly what my mother had planned. And why he lost five years of his life. Why his son was stolen from him.” Stefan raised his brows. “And I will be sure to tell him who helped Helena do so.”
Andre drew in a sharp breath. “Wait—”
“And if you think running is going to change anything, perhaps that is because you don’t know Jason Morgan. There is no where you will hide that he will not find you.”
Andre shoved himself to his feet. “You’re crazier than your mother—I don’t have to listen to this—”
“My mother had a long list of enemies. Luke Spencer was always near the top, and so I understand why people simply accepted that she stole Jake to torture Luke. But did no one ask why Helena allowed Jake to be found? Why she simply gave up?”
“She was dying,” Andre said, but even those words felt false to him. The Helena he’d known, the Helena he had sold his soul to—
She never would have sacrificed a piece of her plan without a reason. “She planted that trigger—”
“She sent Jake Webber back to his mother because she knew Elizabeth Webber was lying—or thought she was lying about the identity of Andrew Cain.” Stefan sighed, a bit wistfully. “The only person my mother hated as much as Laura Spencer was that poor girl, though she never did much to deserve it. So my mother set out to destroy her.”
“Wait..” Andre shook his head. “Your mother—she did this—she did all of this—because of Elizabeth Webber?”
“Of course.” Stefan snorted with derision. “Did you really think Victor Cassadine kidnapped Jason Morgan to be his bodyguard? What nonsense is that. She stole him to punish Elizabeth, just as she took Elizabeth’s son. And then…”
“She had me map her memories,” Andre murmured, as his stomach pitched. “Where did—I knew she had a plan for them—”
“You can either help me discover what my mother had planned, what Valentin had to do with it, and why it meant my nephew had to die,” Stefan said with a cool smile, “or I’ll set Jason Morgan free myself.”