General Hospital fic
Slightly old fic, written and posted on the tq_ficathon a couple of months ago. I don't know who on my flist watches General Hospital, or would be interested in this fic (well, aside from one, but she's already read it *waves to to minervafan*) But I figured I'd post it anyway, if for nothing else but to prove I'm not dead.

Title: Iconoclasm
Author: inyron
Rating: PG
Characters: Dillon, Tracy, Luke
Notes: Thanks to minervafan for the advice.
Summary: Disillusionment on a late spring's day.


Lulu told both he and Milo at once, breath hitching, and tears rolling down her cheeks. "will never date anyone," she was saying, "all love does is hurt you." Wasn't true, Dillon knew that wasn't true, he had lived it. But if the rest of what she was saying was true, then maybe he didn't know anything at all. Milo was stuttering useless stupid platitudes, and Dillon knew he should say something, anything, but he couldn't. "Ihavetogo," he finally spit out, standing up and spinning around to see Georgie standing there, eyes wide, looking lost carrying a rapidly cooling plate of fries. He knew she overheard, and as their shocked eyes met for a moment, he flashed back to last Halloween when they dressed up as Bonnie and Clyde, partners in crime.

Dillon never had a father. The overpowering figure throughout his childhood was his mother, beautiful, strong, and taking shit from no one. And everything he had really learned about relationships growing up, everything he brought to Georgie when he was sixteen, he had really learned from the movies, where flowers and wine and big dance numbers meant true love, and the only men who hurt women were the bad ones, who were always defeated in the end.

He thought about Georgie, about Lulu. Wondered if there was any possible circumstance under which he would hurt them, intentionally physically hurt them. He thought of that night in the boathouse when he was convinced Georgie had cheated on him, that other night, weeks later when he finally confronted Lulu with her lie. But the idea of turning that anger into physical violence just made him sick in his stomach.

They were both there when he arrived, drinking and sitting together as usual, and when did this happen? he wondered. When did they start becoming a real married couple?

"I just saw Lulu at Kelly's," he said, voice shaking. His mother sighed deeply, and Luke took a swig of whatever alcohol he had in his glass. He looked generally disheveled and stressed, but what Dillon said didn't appear to sink in until a few seconds later, when he choked at the back end of the liquid. "Oh, Christ," he finally spit out, looking annoyed, annoyed of all the things in the world.

"Dillon," his mother said with a warning tone, "this is none of your business."

Dillon never had a father. And he never particularly missed having one, at least not until Luke Spencer came into his life. Luke was brave, and amazing, and exciting, and so fun. And whenever he helped Luke with something, Luke would smile at him, or pat him on the back, or make an approving comment, and Dillon just craved more. He was self-aware enough to realize he was looking to Luke as his male role, and craving his approval as a father figure, but what was the problem with that? If there was anyone he wanted to grow up to be like, it was Luke Spencer. And somewhere between dressing up for Stefan Cassadine's funeral, and helping him rob the Quartermaine family's estate, Luke had to have realized it too. And he didn't mind, of course he didn't mind. Why else would he have known he could count on Dillon for scheme after crazy scheme? Under what other circumstances could he have had the balls to go up to Dillon and ask him for help *seducing his mother* for an elaborate trick? Dillon should have laughed him out of the room, but he didn't, and maybe that didn't have as much to do with the free hotel room and the adrenaline high of a well-acted stunt. Maybe it had more to do with a twisted sense of rightness- the same one he felt when he chased after Lulu, the one that said this would be getting him what he really wished for.

"How is this not my business?" he asked harshly. Luke turned to him, annoyance sprouting into anger, but his mother cut in first. "It was between Luke and Laura, Dillon, and they got over it years before you were even conceived."

"Luke can be incredibly smooth," Georgie had said. "I'm sure he can handle your mother." Of course he could. Luke was part of a legendary couple, wasn't he? Everyone knew Luke and Laura; they were romantic royalty in Port Charles. Of everyone he could be sending his mother into the arms of, surely…

"You," Dillon said, voice shaking, staring down Luke's anger, "You are married to my mother."

Of all the men Tracy Quartermaine was with, in New York City or in Europe, Dillon couldn't remember one who wasn't in her pocket, that she couldn't eat alive at any time.

"If you ever-" Dillon started, and Luke's look turned to annoyance again, tinged with disgust. "For God's sake, Dillon," his mother cut in again. "You have no idea what you're talking about." She turned to Luke. "Just go. I'll have a talk with him." Luke flicked one last annoyed glance at Dillon, exchanged a weird (what was that, tenderness?) look with Tracy, then stalked off through the back door, posture stiff, never turning around.

It shouldn't hurt. After everything that had happened last summer (begging and screaming and hatred, and oh, it would never be the same, and it never was. Luke never asked him for anything ever again, even though Dillon had got over it, and would still do anything he asked, couldn't he see?) and everything he had just learned (and what kind of man would do that? Dillon still couldn't even conceive) it shouldn't hurt to see Luke dismiss him so completely, but it still cut him to his heart.

"Sweetheart," his mom was saying, sitting down, "Luke went through all of this years ago, he went through it with Lucky, and now he's going through it with Lulu. You really don't need to get involved. It has nothing to do with us."

"How can it have nothing to do with us," Dillon asked incredulously. "You are- I mean, you- you're sleeping with him now, right?" His mom raised an eyebrow. "You're like, a real married couple."

"Again, Dillon, this has nothing to do with you," his mother said, but there was a softness in her eyes, an acknowledgement.

Dillon had never really seen his mother act the way she had been since Luke came back this last time. Not through his whole life. It was obvious what it was, finally. It was love.

All love does is hurt you. Lulu had said. He saw Laura Baldwin in his mind's eye, bruised and beaten cowering on a floor. He saw Luke and Laura gazing lovingly into each other's eyes, saying their vows for their wedding in the Quartermaine rose garden. Well, their fake wedding, because Luke was unwilling to let his mother go. He saw Luke, looking at his mother, reflecting that same softness, that love, a gaze he had never seen Luke direct at Skye.

"It has everything to do with me," Dillon said. "He's dangerous." His voice was cracking horribly now, but he was beyond caring.

"Luke is not a danger to me," his mother said firmly, but Dillon shook his head.

"How can you say that?"

"Dillon," she said, "I've known about Luke and Laura and what happened between them for years and years. A lot of the town knew, back then."

Dillon shook his head uncomprehendingly. "Then how can you have-"

"Married him?" she cut in, with an upward quirk of her lips.

The dam burst, and tears began to fall. "I'm sorry," Dillon said, "I'm so sorry." He felt like he was five years old, in front of his mother to receive punishment for spilling punch down one of her party dresses, or sneaking out when he shouldn't have. "I don't know why, I never should've let him talk me into it."

He never felt right or settled that night, but he and Georgie had still drank the champagne and made love on the bed. And somewhere else in the hotel, his mother was drunk and being preyed on by Luke Spencer.

"You're right, you know," his mother said with a forced lightness, her hands laid on his shoulders now, a light squeeze that felt like a full on hug. "You shouldn't have done that. We're supposed to work together. We're supposed to be a team. And I'd really appreciate it if you had my back. But I think what went wrong between us happened long before that night." (We're supposed to be a team, he had told his mother, as she lied to him, and left him to fend for himself amongst the Quartermaines. He had never forgiven her for that, though now he couldn't imagine what his life would be like if she hadn't.) "But you have to give me some credit, Dillon, do you really think I would have stayed married to Luke past a month if I hadn't wanted to? Trust me, I could have walked away and kept that money any time."

It was what he wanted to hear, but it still didn't make anything better. "Why did you?" he asked her. "Why did you stay married to him, if you knew, all this time- what he was capable of?"

"I knew what he did," Tracy said, "and I knew after that he stuck it out with Laura, feeling the guilt and self-flagellating by trying to live a family life he was never suited for. He would never let himself do anything like that again, because he knows the cost of trying to make it up. Besides," she added, trying to smile, "don't you think I can take care of myself?" And he did, of course, since she was his mother, she was Tracy Quartermaine, she was the strongest person he knew. And yet… And yet, she shouldn't have to be.

"You deserve better," he told her. "You don't deserve a, a man like that, who would do something like that."

"Maybe I do," she said, "But Luke- well, Luke is the one I love, sometimes in spite of myself, because sometimes we just don't get a choice in the matter. And sometimes," she continued kindly, "parents, just like children, are allowed to make these choices for themselves, and children just don't get a say."

It wasn't enough, or at least it didn't feel like enough, but it would have to do, because this wasn't over, and probably wouldn't be over for a long time. She and Luke were committed to each other, and Luke was here in the house as permanently as anything with Luke was. She was Mrs. Spencer now, for real. It was everything he couldn't even imagine enough to wish for two or three years ago, but he could barely stand to think of it now. His mother leaned over now, and gave her a proper hug, and he told her all of this through the tears he left on her silk jacket.

He left the house again twenty minutes later, for college, for Kelly's, for his own life, and he wondered what he would say when he ran into Lulu again. Maybe he didn't have the right to say anything to her, because for all of his worries, she was the one living out the worst-case scenario. But in some way, he wondered if maybe he could have some insight into some of what she might be going through. Because after all, if these were your parents, then what kind of a person did that make you?