Scorned by fallinangelz21

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty


In moments of absolute honesty, Brenda would admit that a part of her enjoyed having two men fight over her. The posturing and swaggering gave her an ego boost and reminded her that even if she was a complete screw up in romance, hell in life, two people wanted her enough to make complete asses of themselves for her favor. In the past, she had refused to take any blame or responsibility for the actions of two grown men, no matter how much her own choices contributed to their quarrel.

This moment, however, was different. Guilt overwhelmed her as Jax glowered-hurt and confusion making his tan skin seem sallow. Sonny's arms were still wrapped around her. Their embrace making them appear like a pair of teenage lovers caught by a parent. Her days spent in the hospital bed had been riddled with fantasies about making Jax regret his extended trip to Europe and his abandonment when she needed him, but throwing Sonny in his face? That had never crossed her mind.

Even so, she could barely move on her own. Settling for shifting away from Sonny on the couch, she licked her lips and stated the painfully obvious, "Jax. You're home."

"That's right," Jax's accent seemed more pronounced after their time apart. Warily, Brenda watched him saunter across the landing and bounce with a mask of cocky arrogance down the two steps to the plush cream carpet of the living room. He didn't look at Brenda, keeping his eternal rival firmly in the crosshair of his disdainful gaze. "I am home. And you're trespassing, so why don't you leave."

"Please, Jax," Sonny drawled easily, his dimples deepened in a wicked grin. "It's not trespassing when you're invited."

"It is after I've told you to leave."

"I'm Brenda's guest, so until she tells me-"

"Sonny, I think you should leave," Brenda said suddenly and despite her injuries moved far too quickly to stand. Her ribs shrieked in pain and she pitched forward. Sonny caught her and instantly cradled her against his side. She would have been grateful if she hadn't been so certain-even through the tears of pain that blurred her vision-that half his overprotectiveness was a show for Jax. When she could breathe again, she pushed at his hands. "I'm fine."

"No you're not," he murmured, keeping an arm loosely around her waist as she maneuvered around the couch.

"What the hell happened?" Jax demanded, fairly snatching her from his rival despite the sincerity of his concern. He examined her face, touching her with cool fingers that should have soothed, but only served to make her feel like a prized possession. A damaged prize he had to fix. "Who did this to you? Corinthos?"

"Me?" the mobster's dark eyes burned black as he snorted in scorn. "I'm the one who took care of her while you were flying all over the world robbing someone of their livelihood."

"At least I leave people alive to miss it," Jax countered, his cutting words flying directly over Brenda's head. "Every person you touch ends up maimed or dead."

"And every person you touch ends up alone and vulnerable," Sonny retorted. "Why don't you do Brenda a favor, Candy Boy. Go back to wherever the hell you were while she was hurt and stick with raiding empires."

"Sonny," Brenda drew a deep breath and steeled herself against the angry throb of her ribs. The pounding spread up her spine to pulse through her head. She could almost feel the satin sheets and soft comfort of her bed and wanted to throw a tantrum just to get up there. "Sonny, thank you for bringing me home, but I really think you should go."

"Brenda-."

"You heard her, Corinthos. Get out," Jax crowed, his arm tightened possessively around Brenda's waist like some coveted prize he'd just won.

The mob boss pursed his lips and the glare he shot his adversary was full of venom. Some men would have meekly admitted defeat, but not Sonny Corinthos. No, the boss of the eastern seaboard, merely shook his head and sauntered to her side. His footfalls were muffled by the thick carpet and when he stopped just in front of her, Brenda looked away.

"If you need anything, you let me know," he said. Not a request, but a demand that she come to him if she needed him and a promise that he'd be there. In truth she appreciated it, but once again her former lover showed his great prowess in ignoring her wishes and abiding by his own desires. Indignation at his refusal to leave sparked in her eyes. Jax didn't let her speak.

"I'll be taking care of whatever Brenda needs, Sonny. Not you," he vowed. The mob boss' gaze never left Brenda's face as he made his way slowly to the door. Despite herself, something in her begged to follow.

At the door, Sonny paused. Obsidian lifted to pacific blue and Brenda imagined she felt Jax flinch. The mobster opened his mouth as if to speak, but a mirthless grin replaced his words. A burst of air that might have passed for a laugh escaped his lips and then he was gone. Brenda wanted to feel relieved, but Jax was all over her.

"What happened?" he murmured, his voice soft and caring-enough to make any woman swoon.

She pushed at his hands. "It's nothing. I fell down the stairs. Stupid," she muttered as she tried to free herself from his concern.

"Why didn't you call me?"

Brenda shook her head and started moving toward the steps that would take her to sanctuary. "I didn't want to bother you."

"Bother me? How could a phone call from the woman I love bother me?" Jax demanded incredulously. He tried to pull her close again, but she shrugged away from him.

"Jax, please," she said, despising the needy tone in her voice. "I just want to go to bed."

"Let me help you-."

"No!" she cried, finally reaching the landing and grabbing the newel post like an anchor. Jax's face was a mask of confusion and surprise. Brenda's heart constricted painfully in her chest. This wasn't fair, but despite her guilt, she didn't want him. Not touching her, not helping her, not holding her in bed. She just wanted to be alone. "No, Jax, I don't-don't want your help. I just...I want to go to bed for about a week."

"I just got home-."

"And I broke ribs," she stared at him, aghast. "I kicked Sonny out, what more do you want from me?"

"Want from you? Brenda, I don't understand. I just want to fix this," he said, stepping closer. Close enough to touch her arm and she took a painful step up the first stair to evade him. Tears of pain and frustration muddied her vision. "I want to help you. To fix-."

"I'm not some plaything you can fix, Jax," Brenda whispered. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she wished the headache away. Wished that Jax had stayed in Europe for one more day. Wished she understood what she was feeling. Swiping at the tear that spilled down her cheek she met Jax's gaze. "Just...leave me alone, Jax. Please."

For a long moment, he considered her request. "Why do I get the feeling you're not just talking about tonight?"

"Because you're a very perceptive man," she let out a sharp burst of air from a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Another tear left a trail of silver on her skin. "And because I'm not being very subtle."

"You know...I should have known," Jax shook his head and turned a reproachful gaze on her.

Wary, Brenda claimed another step. "Known what?"

"That you wanted Corinthos. It was too easy, you know. I mean, you went to him first when you came back to town. When you're in trouble he's the man you turn to."

"It's hard to turn to you when you're in the middle of a wedding or halfway around the world," she chided and immediately felt the wave of guilt wash over her, nearly dousing her anger. "And this has nothing to do with Sonny. This is about me."

"The hell it is."

"Excuse me?" she stared, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, did you just try to tell me what I'm thinking? Because if you did, you're more of a chauvinist pig than Sonny and I didn't think that was possible."

"Brenda-."

"Don't," she held up a warning hand and started her slow ascent, back pressed tight against the wall for support. "Don't stand there and insult me by trying to tell me I'm wrong. I'm a toy to you, Jax. A plaything."

A shadow of hurt passed over his face. "You're more than that. I love you."

"You love the idea of me. You love that I chose you over Sonny. You love that you won. And maybe..." she sighed, but her throat closed convulsively and the throbbing in her head tormented her as tears began to fall more rapidly. "Maybe it's all my fault. I-I'll take the blame, Jax."

He was quiet for a moment. With his attention focused on the door-the last spot Sonny had stood-all he offered her was his profile. She watched him, holding her breath as he blinked rapidly. Fighting tears, she guessed.

"You should," he finally hissed. Anger and betrayal dripping from the words. Before she could blink, he stalked to the door, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor so loudly, she winced.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving you alone," he growled. "After all, that's what you want. Until Sonny can make it back here."

When the door slammed behind him, Brenda stared at it for a few minutes. Shock coursed through her. She hadn't expected Jax to just...give up. If she wasn't in so much pain and if she didn't know with absolute conviction that Sonny had at least five guards surrounding the property, she would have been upset. Cried, had a tantrum, threw things.

But the tears staining her cheeks dried and disappeared. The dull throb of her head had long since turned to piercing agony. Slowly, she descended the steps and made her way to the front door. Flipping the lock, she turned around and retraced her path. The stairs loomed ahead, stretching into infinity. Gritting her teeth, she mounted the first one and began the climb to the safe haven of her bed. Maybe tomorrow she'd feel the regret and guilt she knew should be crippling her. Sorrow would overwhelm her as Jax's last words echoed through her head.

Maybe tomorrow she wouldn't feel so...relieved.

~*~


Summoned.

Sammy Tagliotti curled his lip in disgust. He was not a man to be summoned. When he was younger, working his way up the ladder in the family, he had allowed others to summon him. Those days long since over, he was particularly annoyed that someone he'd imprisoned-someone in his control-had the audacity to...summon him.

"What does Ms. Matthews want?" Sammy growled as he pushed through the camouflaged door in the safe house. One could never be too safe. Corinthos had eyes everywhere and in the three weeks since he'd taken Courtney into custody, the mob boss's search for her had only intensified.

"I think she probably wants ta know what you've got planned for her," Skid grumbled in an unusual showing of disrespect. Sammy raised a brow. It seemed to be the day for strange occurrences.

"Really. Sounds like you want to know as well, Skid," he sneered at the moniker, putting the flunky in his place. The other man had the decency to shuffle his feet.

"Well, yeah, Boss. I mean, I been guarding her for weeks and as fun as it was at first...I wanna know what's goin' on," he said apologetically.

"I imagine you do," Sammy replied, brushing past the guard and into the captive's room. He shut the door without addressing Skid any further. He'd been planning on explaining things to his men when he thought Ms. Matthews was ready. Now, after his show of disrespect, Skid could wait a little longer.

The room was dim and it took a brief moment for his eyes to adjust to the change. In her agitated state, Courtney took full advantage.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" she demanded, striding up to poke Sammy's chest. Anger flared white hot in his gut, but he kept his features neutral. "You've had me stuck down here like a rat for weeks and I want to know why. Now."

"Sit down, Ms. Matthews."

"Like hell I-."

"Sit down!" he ordered. Courtney blinked, swallowed and finally had the presence of mind to park her ass on the battered sofa against the wall. Sammy folded his hands, squeezed the fingers together to regain the fragment of control he let slip away. He drew a deep breath and began to leisurely stroll across the room. "Now. You're useful to me, Ms. Matthews. Useful, but expendable. Keep that in mind the next time you decide to summon me. Now to your question. Did you know that Ms. Webber has moved into Mr. Morgan's penthouse?"

Sammy ceased his pacing and turned to study the bottle blond. Even in the dim light he noted the pallor to her skin, the way her hands curled into tight fists. Courtney's voice was ragged when she finally spoke. "Elizabeth lived with Jason before. It didn't last. She still left him."

"Things seem to be different this time. Your attack on Ms. Barrett and the assassination of the punk you hired to rape Ms. Webber seems to have brought them closer."

"Why are you telling me this?" she demanded in a strained whisper.

"To test you," he replied honestly. "Morgan is your weakness and you're no good to me with weaknesses."

"What do you want from me?" Courtney asked again. Her shoulders fell a little. Sammy knew defeat was nearly overwhelming her. After weeks of isolation, the fight had drained from her. "I've already given you all the information I have-"

"And I appreciate that," he assured her. Relishing the false security he gave her when he sat beside her on the couch, he spoke almost gently. "But I need more."

"Sonny and Jason will shoot me the second they see me," she pleaded with him. "I don't know what you expect me to do."

"Use the information you have," he explained. "There are files I want to see. Files in the cental Corinthos-Morgan warehouse and you're going to get them for me."

His voice was soft, persuasive and Courtney was too self-involved to realize this snake would give you kiss before it swallowed you whole. Sniffling, she turned her wide blue eyes on him. "What if I can't?"

Sammy rose and moved to the door. "You will."

"But what if-."

"If you don't..." he paused, hand on the doorknob. His lips curved in an amused smile. Trust. Hope. It was written all over her face. He was her salvation, whether she liked it or not. He shrugged. "If you don't...it's a mistake you'll only make once."

The door closed with resounding finality. Skid waited like an eager puppy on the other side.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Sammy repeated, barely glancing his way.

"So, what happens now?"

Sighing with impatience, Sammy curled his fist in the pocket of his tailored suit. With infinite control that hid his disdain, he graced Skid by actually looking him in the eye. "Ms. Matthews is going to the warehouse tonight."

"And?"

"And she'll either get the files I'm curious about or she'll kill Mr. Morgan and Ms. Webber in a fit of jealous rage," Sammy lifted a shoulder. "Either way, it's progress."

~*~


Snow. Fluffly flakes fell quietly to the ground, blanketing the everyday dirt and grime that stuck to the docks like a messy glue. Light from the streetlamps penetrated only half as far as a clear night and in the shadows of the warehouse, Elizabeth Webber was in her own private world.

"You know...I think I like this," she murmured. Her nose and cheeks-nipped by the December wind-glowed pink in the moonlight. Shadows played over Jason's face, but she caught a hint of a smile before he claimed her mouth again. He didn't just kiss her; he drank from her lips, pulling her up on her toes until her feet almost left the ground. The temperature hovered just above freezing but wrapped in Jason's arms Elizabeth felt swollen and warm, like liquid heat.

A gasp escaped her lips and she sucked in air like a woman starved as he worked his way up her jaw. His breath was hot and made fire dance low in her belly. Forget heat. She was going to melt.

"Yeah, I think this was a really good idea," Jason's whisper bordered on a growl that made her knees weak with desire. With her eyes closed, she sought out his mouth, eager to taste him-as if she hadn't already memorized everything about him.

The 'idea' wasn't anything more than an impromptu ride on the cliffs. They ended up at the warehouse as an afterthought. Jason's focus had been fragmented for weeks and she missed him, physically and emotionally. A separation borne of business demands, not avoidance. Someone had been tampering with shipments. Security had to be increased and Sonny wanted Jason to see to it personally, much to Elizabeth's annoyance. Why bother with the multitude of guards if Jason had to do everything himself?

But she wasted little time on thoughts of her brother. Those were for another night, another day when her lover wasn't doing the most incredible things to her body. Jason guided them deeper into the shadows, his attention never wavering from her mouth. She met the wall with a soft thud.

"Sorry," he muttered against her lips. Even that short lack of contact made her anxious and she squirmed against him.

"Just kiss me," she demanded and tugged him closer. He happily obliged, pulling her flush against him. He wanted her. She could feel it through the denim of his jeans when he rocked against her. The ache between her thighs arced in pleasure bordering pain.

Suddenly, kissing him was no longer enough. The urge to run her artist's fingers over his broad chest. Already she itched to feel the warmth of his skin. Ripping the gloves from her hands, she dropped them, not hearing the quiet slap as leather hit cement. Being with Jason made her realize one thing more acutely than anything else. As much as she loved him-which was more than she'd ever loved anything or anybody-she lusted for him nearly as much.

Sometimes all he had to do was whisper in her ear. The words were inconsequential. Wherever they were, she'd want him, be hot and wet and ready for him in seconds. Tugging at the zipper of his jacket, she had her hands at the button of his jeans when he stopped her.

"Ja-," she tried to cry, but he dipped his tongue past her lips, and she fell into another toe-curling kiss as he guided her hands above her head. The rough brick scratched her knuckles and her leather jacket strained across her chest, torturing the tight nipples buried by layers. He held her hands above her, drawing her closer and tighter against him as he continued the assault on her mouth. If she didn't get a breath, she might pass out.

She felt a knee wedge between her legs and Jason's strong thigh pressed intimately against her center. He swallowed her cry, only to relinquish her mouth a moment later. When he began treating her neck to the same thorough attention, Elizabeth didn't think she'd care if she announced what they were doing to the entire harbor. Just as long as he didn't stop.

Jason had no intention of stopping. With his gloves still on, he traced her arms, slowly working his way down, finding all the sensitive spots-even through the leather-that made Elizabeth writhe and struggle to get closer. Skirting the swell of her breasts, he popped the first button of her jacket, then the next until the flaps fell open. One hand slipped under her sweater, molding to the curve of her ribcage, before daring higher.

Moaning in appreciation, Elizabeth hooked her leg around Jason's, bringing them closer in a carnal urge that had to be sated. Her small fingers tunneled through his thick sandy hair and pulled his mouth back to hers, thanking him for his touch with her lips and tongue.

A car rumbled to life just then. Out of sight but close enough to make Jason pause and pull back, but his lips still moved over hers when he panted her name. "Elizabeth."

His tone held warning, regret and she whimpered in frustration. "Don't stop, Jason. Please."

"Anybody could s-see us," he tried to reason, but his voice hitched when she rocked against him, holding herself tight against his already throbbing arousal. His hand grew bolder beneath the sweater, cupping her firm breast and strumming the nipple gently.

"Since when do you care what other people think?" she demanded, arching into his hand, to feel him against her completely.

"I don't. But you...I mean," he stammered and Elizabeth grinned. Jason cursed and tore his hand away from her breast, his hand searching blindly beside her as he kissed her. Then all of a sudden, he was lifting her and she wrapped her legs around his waist to help. They stumbled through the warehouse door and down a hallway.

With no finesse or concern for what might be on the other side, they crashed through a doorway into a dark office. With one arm, Jason sent pens, papers and what Elizabeth thought might be the phone careening to the floor before he set her on the wood surface of a desk. Instantly, she fought with his jacket as he struggled with hers. Her entire body was pulsing with need. Small sounds of encouragement escaped her lips. With his jacket gone, Jason ripped his gloves off with his teeth, then pulled Elizabeth's sweater over her head.

The air in the office was warm, but goosebumps broke out over her naked flesh as Jason's fingertips brushed lightly down her arms, over her shoulders and along the line of her spine to the small of her back. His lips dusted her throat, working higher to the sensitive spot beneath her jaw. In an instant the mood shifted, slowed. She wouldn't be left wanting anything. There was no rush for completion.

Her arms felt sluggish as she moved them to pull on Jasons long sleeved black shirt. Carelessly, she threw it aside and her hands sought out his naked, warm flesh. Muscles rippled under her fingers, his chest rose and fell on ragged breaths that matched her own.

They moved together on instinct. Jason hands expertly finding every sensitive spot of pleasure on Elizabeths body. Laying her back on the desk, he worked the button of her jeans, the zipper, and then in one motion she was naked beneath him, clad only in her bra. Some part of her mind that wasnt fogged by lust and pleasure urged her to touch him. When his hand teased over her inner thighs, making her moan, she wanted to hear the same from him. To give as she was getting.

He moved higher, brushing the soft, sensitive flesh at her core and givng a sound of encouragement when she lifted her hips in response. He slipped a finger inside of her and she heard his ragged sigh. With effort, she lifted her heavy lids and caught his gaze. A fiery blue that made her sweat before his mouth came crashing down on hers. She tugged on him, wanting to feel the weight of his body and then finally managed to unbutton his jeans.

Jason... she began, but she didnt get any further. Her lips wouldnt form the words.

Tell me what you want, he whispered urgently. Her small hands traveled blindly lower, cupping his hard length through his boxer briefs. He nipped her earlobe. Elizabeth-.

You, Jason...I need you, she gasped as he pushed deeper inside her, the hot coil of need tightening almost painfully. I want you. Inside me. Please, I-.

Her voice broke as a wave of pleasure swept over her, but Jason drew his hand away, leaving her aching for him. Complete satisfaction was not to be hers just yet and she nearly cried in frustration until she felt him move between her thighs. Just a brush of contact, teasing her before slipping past her wet folds. With a sigh of pure relief, she wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him deeper, to fill her.

Dipping his head while they slowly began to move, Jason nuzzled her nipple through the thin, silky fabric of her bra. Elizabeth arched against his mouth, stifling a moan. He scoured the nipple with his teeth and she couldnt hold back her sharp cry. When his mouth found hers, she could feel his smile.

You like it when I scream? she panted, her hands traveling low to dig her nails into the firm flesh of his ass.

Why do you think I took you up to the cliff roads so often, he countered, moving more swiftly inside her and muffling her response with his lips. His tongue explored her mouth as they sped blindly together. All thought melted away once more as Jason pushed her higher, daring her to reach the top before he did. In the end, they toppled over almost at the same time, Elizabeth reeling from the pleasure as Jason joined her.

~*~


Seconds, minutes, hours later, Jason didnt know how much time had passed when Elizabeth moved slightly beneath him. Lifting his head from the pillow of her neck and hair, he studied her face. You okay?

Oh yeah, she replied without hesitation, a grin blossoming on her face. Her fingertips were warm as she took his face and kissed him. Damn, she was amazing. He wanted her like this. All the time. Her contented sigh, made his nerves sing and his pulse quicken.

As she looked around the room, however, her smile faded. A blush spread over her cheeks. Oh my god, Jason-whos desk is this?

Jason frowned and glanced around the office. Well, damn...I'm not sure, he grinned as a look of horror made her eyes wide. The blush deepened to a fiery red. Its mine.

Jason! she cried in relief. Annoyed, she punched his shoulder. You jerk.

Sorry, he chuckled, brushing her hair off her forehead. The damp strands glistened in the moonlight that peaked through the half closed blinds. You just...youre beautiful when you blush like...that.

Elizabeths eyes widened again and he marveled at the flush to her cheeks, the way he always surprised her when he told the honest truth. She didnt have to be blushing though, she was beautiful to him no matter what she looked like. Tentatively, she lifted her chin, bringing their lips together in another gentle caress. Her voice was soft, breathy with promise when she whispered. Take me home, Jason. I want to make love to you, again.

He didnt need any further encouragement. Searching for her clothes first, he busied himself with finding his shirt while she got dressed. When he finally found the missing item, tucked in a corner behind a potted plant he didnt remember ever watering, and pulled it over his head, Elizabeth was pulling on her jeans. He felt a twinge of disappointment.

I just need to-.

Do what you came here for in the first place? she suggested with a smirk. Nodding her head she gestured to the mess theyd made. Ill just clean this up.

You dont have to, he replied, coming to her side and wrapping an arm around her waist. Pressing a kiss to her temple he whispered. You could come with me.

Wed be here all night, she shook her head and extracted herself from his embrace. Her body felt languid, but empty without him near.

That wouldnt be so bad.

Until the morning when the workers arrived and we were still naked on your desk, she grinned at his tortured sigh. He was almost out the door when he turned and grabbed her hand, pulling her to him and kissing her. His lips lingered on hers and she felt that coil inside her begin to tighten again. Damn this man.

Ill be right back, he promised.

Elizabeth could only nod, senses reeling, as he disappeared down the dark hallway. Expelling a huge breath, she turned back to the office. Papers and files were scattered across the floor. Rolling her eyes, she flipped a switch and took a moment to adjust to the darkness. Part of her couldnt believe shed just made love to Jason Morgan on his desk in the warehouse. The other part of her, the part that always wanted him, always ached for him, was surprised they hadnt done it sooner.

Jason must have kept his desk fairly bare, because in only a few minutes, everything was back in its place. He still hadnt returned. Absently, she shrugged into her jacket, taking her time with the buttons as she looked around the room. There really wasnt much there. A water starved plant. A couple uncomfortable looking chairs. Four tall filing cabinets. And then another door. Curious, Elizabeth went to it and pushed it open, even though instinct warned her not to poke her nose around Jasons business. She neednt have worried.

The door opened into another office. Much more spacious and obviously better kept. Leather chairs, a huge mahogany desk flanked by stylish wood paneled file cabinets and a plant that was actually green. Sonnys office, she realized at the exact moment she saw the framed picture of Carly and Michael perched on the edge of his desk. Her footsteps were muffled as she entered the room by thick carpeting. Gingerly, she picked up the family photo, tracing the smiling faces. Carly had left Sonny weeks ago. Michael hadnt been over to see Jason at all. The happy family was gone. Her stomach twinged and she didnt understand the sudden feeling of loss or the lingering question that drifted around it.

Would you have a framed picture of me in here, Sonny? she asked the room. If you had known...

A distant crash made her drop the picture to the floor. The hairs on her neck lifted and cold fear swept away the residual wisps of pleasure still tickling her nerves. The sound had come from the warehouse, from the direction Jason just disappeared. Without thinking to search the offices for a gun, she took off after the sound.

In the blackness, the hallways felt like a maze, winding around dark corner after dark corner. Her eyes once again had to adjust, this time to the dark and when the outline of the metal shelves of a storage room took focus, their stark edges did little to comfort her. In the span of two minutes, she'd come down from her euphoric high to wallow in apprehension and dread. The crash had echoed in her head for what felt like an eternity, but all too soon the silence became deafening. She wanted to call out. To shout Jasons name, but something was stuck in her throat.

Suddenly, she pitched forward. Landing with an oomph as the wind momentarily left her lungs. The ground beneath her was uneven and...warm.

Squinting in the dark, she made out the broad shoulders and the scent of leather surrounded her. The fear shed been carrying with her morphed into terror as she pushed herself to her knees. With agonizing slowness, she let her gaze wander higher, past the strong chest and the neck to the face she knew shed find but desperately didnt want to see. Elizabeths heart skipped a beat, then two as she quit breathing altogether. Even in the dark, she could see her hands shake as she touched his face.

Jason? she whispered, not daring to speak louder. Her fingers swept over his brow and into his hair. He was so still, especially compared to the man of only minutes ago that had carried her into the warehouse to make love to her. "Jason!"

She brought her face close to his and to her small relief, she felt the shallow rush of air as he breathed. But then she noticed a slickness beneath her fingers, a wet warmth that she didnt have to see to identify. Bile choked her.

Blood.

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty-One


Elizabeth hated blood. No matter where she saw it or how often, it caught her offguard and left her defenseless. The color wasn't right. Always blacker or redder or thicker than the movies, sticking to everything, staining her hands and clothes. And now it was Jason's.

"I...Oh God. Jason," she whispered frantically. Fumbling in the dark she searched for a pulse and pressed her fingers to his throat. Where the steady thrum of his heart should be, silence echoed. Squelching the cry of panic that burned her throat, she lowered her face to his, her cheek almost flush against his lips. When the first hint of shallow breath feathered across her skin, she nearly choked on a shaky sigh of relief. He was alive. For a moment, she allowed herself the luxury of dropping her head to his chest, palm pressed protectively over the faint beat of his heart.

A sound, a scraping of something heavy over cement, emanated from the back of the warehouse. Elizabeth tensed, her fingers curling into Jason's shirt. Straining, she listened for what felt like an eternity, but heard no other sound. A torrent of delayed thoughts raced through her mind. Had he been attacked? Was he supposed to be dead? Were they alone?

"Jason. Wake up," she whispered urgently and shook him slightly. He didn't move, showed no sign of having heard her at all. Elizabeth sat back on her heels and cursed in frustration, dragging her fingers through her hair. With him unconscious, the best she'd be able to do was make him sit up. There was no way she'd be able to move him from this room or even get him off the floor. Curling her fingers around the butter soft leather of his jacket, Elizabeth begged him. "Please, Jason. I need you to wake up. Please, I-."

His cell phone. A calm cooled her nerves slightly-the side effect of any ray of hope. Jason always had that damn cell phone. She started searching his pockets, first his jacket, both inside and out. She'd find the phone, call 911 and have Jason safely at General Hospital in no time. He'd be okay. He'd survived gunshot wounds, for God's sake, a cut on the head was nothing. Elizabeth focused on that, ignoring the panic that built with each second Jason's eyes remained closed. Motionless. Tears, liquid fear, burned behind her eyes, but she fiercely blinked them away. The phone was not in his jacket. She swallowed and started to search his pants. Before she got any further, he moved.

"Jason?"

He mumbled something unintelligible and his hand brushed against hers, closing loosely over her wrist, then tightening as if he'd found something solid to anchor him. The tears fought harder to spill down her cheeks. So did Elizabeth. Rising on her knees, she took the hand that gripped her wrist and covered it with both her own. Hesitantly, not wanting to cause him any pain, she touched his face. "Open your eyes, Jason."

In the dark, she barely saw the slight flutter of his eyelashes. But the movement was there. Elizabeth held her breath, offering prayer after prayer that she'd see the familiar blue eyes she knew so well with each passing second. Instead, Jason's face contorted in a spasm of pain and he turned into her touch. The momentum shifted and he started to roll to his knees.

"Here let me..."she tried awkwardly in the darkness to help him. Not for the first time, Elizabeth realized just how much Jason dwarfed her in size, weight, strength. She felt useless as he struggled first to his knees, than half crawled to the nearest shelf to lean against it. He never let go of her hand.

Elizabeth perched beside him, watching over him as he fought to open his eyes and keep them that way. He still hadn't uttered a word. "Jason...are you o-okay?"

The question felt stupid. She knew he wasn't okay. The cut above his eyebrow was still oozing blood. She tried to convince herself she'd seen worse. A gunshot wound was worse.

Jason mumbled something she couldn't make out and gingerly touched the cut on his forehead. When his fingers came away bloody, he looked confused.

"Jason," she tried again.

His gaze slid to her slowly, and his eyes widened like seeing her surprised him, even though he was still clinging to her hand. "Elizabeth."

His voice barely carried the short distance between them and her heart constricted in her chest. This wasn't just a cut on the forehead. Even in the dim light she could see him struggle to focus, no matter how steadily he gazed at her face. Touching him again, she sighed. "It's me. I'm right here."

"You okay?" he forced the words out carefully and slowly, gripping her hand tighter.

"I'm fine," she promised, aching for him. To hold him, kiss him, promise he'd be okay. Everything he always did for her. "I'm okay, but you...do you remember what happened?"

His eyes drifted shut, stayed that way for a minute too long and she thought she'd lost him again. Then he grimaced and let his head rest against the shelf. "I don't...I don't know."

She nodded, expecting as much, but hoping for more. The warehouse was almost eerily silent around them. Whoever had been there, whoever had tried-and succeeded-to hurt Jason had vanished. The knowledge eased her mind a little. Unfortunately, she still had no idea how to get Jason off the floor and out of the cold building.

"Can you stand?"she asked, dragging his attention away from some far distant point over her shoulder in the blackness. He blinked once, twice as if weighing the question.

Wordlessly, he pushed himself off the shelf, leaning on Elizabeth far more than he ever had when he'd been shot. They struggled together, getting him to his feet with an ease that, while awkward, was smoother than he'd found a sitting position only moments ago.

The dark hallways of the building stretched out in front of her like a foreign maze. She wasn't sure how she'd found the room Jason had been in, but she was fairly certain she'd never find her way back to the bike.

"Damn," she whispered. The bike. Jason was in no position to drive and she'd couldn't control the machine without him.

They stopped to rest and he sagged against the wall. Elizabeth took his face in her hands and tried to catch his dazed gaze. "Jason? You have your cell phone, right? We need to call someone to get us to the hospital-"

In a blur of speed, her back was suddenly pressed against the wall, the full weight of Jason's body holding her in place. His hands gripped her hips with a concentrated strength.

"No hospitals," he ground out through clenched teeth, either with anger or against the pain that was trying to drag him under. For the first time since he woke up, she saw fire in his eyes. They blazed only inches from her face, his chest brushed against hers with every ragged breath.

"You need to get some help, Jason. I think you have a concussion-"

"I don't care," he growled fiercely, blinking rapidly. "No hospitals. I can't-I won't-"

"You don't have to stay," she promised softly. Breathing was difficult with him this close, practically on top of her in his determination to stay out of the hospital. "I know you hate it, but someone needs to take care of you."

"I want...I want you to take care of me," he murmured. Whatever spark had spurred the burst of strength and focus began to sputter and flare out. Instead of pinning her to the wall, he now leaned on her for help in staying upright. Her heart broke at the defeat in his tone. The rare admission of weakness and dependence didn't belong on his lips.

Her arms found their way around his neck, pulling him close. "I just want someone to make sure you're gonna live. Like Bobbie did when you got shot, remember?"

Weakly, he nodded, his forehead coming to rest on her shoulder. "I remember."

"I promise, Jason. I won't make you stay," she nudged him, so he looked at her. His eyes still held a shred of apprehension. God, seeing him like this was going to make her lose control all together. She'd be a weeping mess. Clearing her throat, she vowed. "I promise."

He swallowed noisily and pushed himself away from her, crashing against the wall and sinking to the floor. The hand that found hers and pressed the cell phone into it shook.

"Who do you want me to call?" she asked, touching his face, encouraging him to look at her. Jason sighed and wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

"I trust you," he whispered and turned his face into her palm. She felt his lips brush a kiss over her skin. Sucking her lip between her teeth, she cast her gaze downward to hide the tear that slipped past her lashes.

Absently she flipped the phone open, her attention mostly focused on Jason's every small movement. He trusted her to do this for him, to help him and she prayed she didn't disappoint him.

Dragging her thumb over Jason's cheek, she was comforted by the warmth and the scrape of stubble. She counted the rings. One, two, three...click.

"Hello?"

"Brenda," Elizabeth said softly, gaze still focused on Jason. "We need your help."

~*~


Sonny slammed the phone back into the cradle. Scowling at the world, he stalked to the bar and poured himself a finger of bourbon. Then made it a double.

"Where the hell is Jason?" he asked aloud.

Johnny looked up from the documents Benny had dropped by an hour earlier. He'd be the first to admit this was not his usual expertise. Give him a mark to tail, a charge to protect, hell have him arrested and he knew what to do. Playing the role of the boss' punching bag was something new.

Clearing his throat he glanced around the impersonal, unfamiliar penthouse suite at the PC hotel. "I have no idea."

"Well, he's not answering his phone."

"Maybe he shut it off," he offered.

"He never shuts it off," Sonny argued.

"Wasn't he going out with Elizabeth tonight?" Johnny suggested and immediately cringed. Jason probably was out with Elizabeth. And if his phone was turned off... Hazarding a glace at Sonny, the bodyguard watched him turn a deeper shade of pissed off. Aww, shit. "Look, Boss. Just tell me what the problem is and I'll take care of it."

The mobster muttered under his breath and paced the room a few more feet. "Did you read the file?"

"Yeah."

"Benny has traced the contaminated shipments back all the way to the original warehouse they were packaged in," he took a seat in the armchair in front of the fire. "Six different crates, six different origins. Nothing connecting them."

"Which means, whoever is trying to fuck with us is local," Johnny nodded and flipped absently through a few pages. More for something to do rather than a need to check facts. "From this it doesn't look like Benny has any idea why."

"I've had Jason looking into that. As of yesterday he hadn't found anything," Sonny explained, rolling the crystal glass between his palms. Johnny watched, taking in the tense set of his shoulders. Frowning, he glanced back at the folder. He'd been with the organization long enough to know that this wasn't unusual. Someone was always messing with shipments, trying to frame them for one reason or another.

"Boss, if you don't mind me asking, why is this getting to you so much?" he held his breath, waiting for the explosion. Sonny disappointed him.

"What?" his brow furrowed in genuine confusion.

"Well, this kind of stuff, it happens all the time. Not that we should just sit back and take it, ya know, but...is there something else going on that I don't know about?"

Sonny glanced up from the glass and met Johnny's gaze. "You think I'm losing it, don't you. It wasn't a question."

"No, I..." Johnny stammered. He could feel his face redden. This meeting was going from bad to ungodly awful and he'd only been there twenty minutes. Where the hell was Jason? The enforcer knew to just keep his mouth shut. Maybe that wasn't just his personality, the guard mused. Maybe it was a survival tactic.

"I don't blame you," Sonny sighed and leaned back in the chair. Johnny started. Frowned. In all his years working for the man, he didn't think he'd ever heard his boss...apologize. "I'm acting irrational. I know this. I'm letting...letting what happened with Carly cloud my judgement."

"I wouldn't go that far. And it's not every day a man leaves his-," if he could have bit his tongue off at that moment, it would have been too late. Johnny closed his eyes, and cursed under his breath.

"Leaves his wife?" Sonny supplied, disgust evident in his voice. "You gonna add the part about his ex-fiance returning from the dead?"

"I shouldn't have said anything," Johnny assured him. Flipping open the file again, he scanned it for something, anything he could say that wouldn't be about his boss' personal life.

"Or how about the part where his supposed sister turns out to be a con who was playing him from the start," Sonny continued, ignoring Johnny's attempt to end the conversation. Sonny rose from his chair and stalked to the window. "Actually no. My favorite part is where the guy finds out he really does have a sister. Someone he already likes and respects. Someone right under his nose all along. Who now, wants nothing to do with him.

"Yeah," he continued as if tasting the idea for quality. "Yeah, I think I like that one the best. It doesn't get more pathetic than that, does it, Johnny."

"Boss, I-"Johnny stammered.

"Yeah?"

Aw hell. Scowling, the guard looked at his watch. "Can I go find Jason?"

~*~


Carly awoke with a start. For a moment, her surroundings mystified her. Moonlight played over the sheets, coaxing the satin to shimmer a cold, blood red. She shivered, then jumped when the phone shrieked. Scrambling over Sonny's empty side of the bed, she dove for the receiver.

"H-hello?" she mumbled, pushing a lock of hair from her eyes.
This felt wrong, answering the phone in the middle of the night was Sonny's territory. It was always business anyway.

The line was silent, but someone was there. Carly could feel it. Setting aside her reservations, she put as much authority into her demand as possible. "Who is this?"

"Carly? Carly, listen to me."

"Courtney?" she frowned as a wave of surprised and anger swept through her. "What the hell are you doing? You've got a lot of nerve trying to-"

"Shut up and listen to me," the woman ordered. Carly's knuckles turned white as she gripped the phone tighter. She owed Courtney Matthews nothing. Less than nothing, she owed her a phone call to Sonny and an lead on where to find the backstabbing tramp.

But Sonny wasn't very high on her list at the moment.

"Talk."

"Jason's in trouble. He was at the warehouse and something went wrong."

"W-what?" Carly sat up straighter. The last clouds of sleep breezing through her mind. "How do you know this? Where is he?"

"I think...I think he's at the hospital. Elizabeth was with him," Courtney's voice turned bitter.

Carly frowned. "Look, what are you calling me for? What am I supposed to do? Just because Sonny and I are...having problems, doesn't mean I'm going to side with the woman who conned both of us for months."

"Jason wasn't supposed to be there," the other woman continued as if she hadn't heard a word Carly said. "He wasn't supposed to get hurt. I would never want that. You have to believe me, Carly. You have to go make sure he's okay."

"If Elizabeth is with him-"

"Since when do you trust Elizabeth?" Courtney demanded. The strained whisper grew more intense. "You and I both know that twit is only going to get Jason killed. She's not good enough for him."

"But he loves her," Carly almost choked on the word. Manicured nails pierced through the sheet and scoured her thigh as she clenched her fist.

"Just go make sure he's okay," Courtney begged. "Please, I'm running out of time. You were always nice to me and I just...I need to know."

"I'll go," Carly promised. A bitter taste made it hard to swallow as she felt herself losing out to her dislike of Elizabeth. Damned if she'd let Courtney know, though. "But not for you. For my best friend."

~*~


Brenda blew softly over the rim of her Styrofoam coffee cup and took a tentative sip. With a grimace, she swallowed the bitter liquid and reached for her fifth sugar packet. The hospital cafeteria was out of cream and she really wasn't a fan of the battery acid they served anyway. However, as she watched Elizabeth nervously pace the entire length of the ER waiting area one more time, she realized she was going to need the sludge. Her feet ached just watching her friend.

"You know, sitting down isn't going to hurt anything," Brenda drawled, curling up in the stuffed blue arm chair and tucking her feet beneath her. "I'm sure they're working as fast as they can. Why don't you sit down and give my feet a rest."

With a sigh, Elizabeth braced her hands on her hips and slowly came to a halt. With nervous energy snapping off her small frame, she turned and strode purposefully to the matching blue couch and sat down. Brenda bit down a smile. The gesture might as well have been a business arrangement for all the relaxing Elizabeth did. Back rigid, hands clasped between her knees, she simply stared at the closed doorway Jason had disappeared through half an hour ago.

"Sweetie, the doctors said he was going to be fine," Brenda reminded the other woman, gently squeezing her shoulder.

"I know," Elizabeth murmured, unmoved.

"And Jason's got a really hard head anyway," she continued. The small smile Elizabeth offered her was hardly encouraging. Tsking sympathetically, Brenda uncurled herself in the chair and leaned towards the younger woman. "Is there something you weren't telling me? Like...oh, I don't know, a knife wound or bullet hole I didn't see?"

"No," Elizabeth shook her head and tried to relax into the couch. Brenda sighed. Subtle humor was falling on deaf ears. Elizabeth rubbed her fingers over her forehead. "No, just the cut on his forehead. I'm being stupid, aren't I?"

"You're allowed to be worried."

"Yeah, but I've seen worse than this. The way I'm acting you'd think he was bleeding to death or something," she grumbled.

Brenda hesitated before leaning against the arm of the chair. Even though her ribs had healed, she still favored them and expected pain whenever she came into contact with anything harder than her bed at the cottage. "Maybe you could tell me what happened. Just to make the wait go faster."

"I don't know what happened," Elizabeth shrugged and her lip found its way between her teeth. Brenda watched her gnaw at it. At least she wasn't wearing a hole in the floor anymore. "Jason and I were out, on his bike and we had to stop by the warehouse for something. I was cleaning up his office and I heard this crash-"

"Wait, why were you cleaning up his office?" she frowned. The other brunette's cheeks flamed red.

"We, um...kinda got distracted," Elizabeth admitted, staring very hard at the sterile white tiling on the floor. Brenda cocked her head, studying the younger woman. Embarrassment flowed from her in waves.

"Distracted...oh my God!" she gasped and reeled back in the chair. Eyes wide, she jabbed a finger in Elizabeth's direction. Her whisper was a conspiratorial hiss that carried through the entire lobby. "You and Jason had sex at the warehouse!"

Elizabeth batted the accusatory finger away. If possible her face burned redder and Brenda couldn't hold back the giggles that made her sound and feel like a thirteen year old. "Shut up, Brenda!"

"Oh, don't try to deny it. It's written all over that blush of yours," she smirked. Folding her arms over her chest she studied the other woman. "Wow. I'm impressed. I never would have... It had to have been your idea, though. Jason doesn't strike me as the type."

"Really," Elizabeth drawled, apparently resigned to the fact that she was going to be teased mercilessly. Brenda's smile widened at the victory.

"Yes, really," she insisted, cupping her knee with her clasped hands. "I've known Jason a long time and he doesn't like to share. Jason is the type to hide you away in his bedroom with the curtains drawn and keep you all to himself."

"Like a princess in a tower?" Elizabeth offered, her cheeks still pink but warming to the conversation.

"I think he'd make it worth your while," Brenda raised a sly eyebrow and watched Elizabeth's face flush red all over again. Tapping a perfectly manicured nail against her shin, she couldn't help shaking her head in disbelief. "At the warehouse. On his desk. Damn. You know you've ruined every assumption I've had about Jason, right?"

"Brenda-"

"No, seriously. If I ever go to the warehouse again, I'm not going to be able to think of anything else and I'll start giggling and Jason will ask why and then I'll make some kind of comment that will embarrass the hell out of him and he'll turn all red just like you are right now," she rambled, watching Elizabeth dissolve into a fit of silent giggles.

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation," she laughed.

"Beats the hell out of pacing, doesn't it?" when Elizabeth quieted and looked her way, Brenda merely raised an eyebrow. "Feel better?"

"A little, yes," she admitted. Her smile shifted from laughter to something bittersweet. "Thank you."

Brenda shrugged. She'd had all the thanks she needed in hearing the other woman laugh. Hell, she should be thanking Elizabeth for giving her something to laugh about.

"You know, I didn't even ask," the younger woman interrupted, pulling Brenda out of her thoughts before she could sink too deeply. "How are you? I haven't talked to you in a few days. Is Jax still calling everyday?"

"Yes," she scowled. "Leave it to him to leave and then be the one to keep calling."

"Have you talked to him?"

"No," she stated shortly. Her stomach twisted in knots. She didn't want to talk to Jax, but admitting it, actually embracing being alone picked at her most entrenched fears. "No, I haven't talked to him and I don't want to. I'm tired of being treated like some stupid toy."

"You don't think Jax loves you?"

"No, not...not the way I...not the way Jason loves you," she confessed in a rush of nervous air. Plastering a smile on her face, she rubbed her suddenly sweaty palms on the thighs of her navy blue yoga pants. "But enough about me, let's talk more about you and Jason christening his desk."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh no, I think we talked about that more than enough. Besides, the last thing Jason needs is another thing for you to harass him about. Troublemaker."

Brenda laughed, still expecting the familiar twinge of pain in her ribs and enjoying it even more when she didn't feel it. The giggles were contagious and soon both women were gasping for breath.

Wiping a tear from her eye and without even thinking, Brenda blurted out a question she'd been toying with since her cell phone had shrilling summoned her attention. "Speaking of how much Jason adores me, why didn't you call Sonny?"

Elizabeth's laughter quieted immediately and she swallowed. She considered her words carefully as the silence grew. Brenda wanted to kick herself. They'd avoided being depressed and worried for an entire ten minutes and in one word she'd gone and ruined it. Elizabeth chewed on her lip again. "Sonny's not exactly...easy to persuade."

"Don't be nice. He's impossible," Brenda corrected. "It's his way or no way."

"Right," she agreed. "Jason was...he had enough to deal with without Sonny trying to dictate everything. He doesn't want to be here anyway. The only reason he let me even call you was because I promised he wouldn't have to stay."

"I'm afraid he's going to have to," a new voice cut into the conversation. Both women jumped to their feet and Brenda had to whirl around to face Monica Quartermaine. Doctor Monica Quartermaine. Lines of stress pulled on the corners of her mouth and Brenda's stomach churned with foreboding. She felt Elizabeth sidle up beside her and she had an overwhelming urge to reach for the younger woman's hand.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Jason's in no condition to leave the hospital," Monica continued. The doctor's usual compassion was barely visible beneath the front of cool detachment and authority she held on to so steadfastly.

Elizabeth lifted her chin, defiance that demanded admiration sparked in her eyes. "I promised-"

"I don't really care what you promised," Monica interrupted. "Jason's not going anywhere."

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty-Two


Doctor Monica Quartermaine clutched her clipboard to her chest, her mouth set in a firm line. Elizabeth regarded her cooly, trying to judge how hard she was going to have to push to get past the older woman. She licked her lips.

"Why exactly is Jason not going anywhere?" she asked. Simple. To the point. Almost nicely. Completely masking the indignation already making her pulse race.

"He has a severe concussion," Monica clipped, speaking as if both Elizabeth and Brenda were either too stupid or too stubborn to listen to reason. "The cut on his forehead is superficial, but he's going to need constant supervision for the next 24 hours. He needs to stay were qualified staff can watch him."

"I see," Elizabeth digested that for a moment. Folding her arms over her chest, she looked past the doctor. The door to the ER was no longer closed, but a curtain hid Jason from her view. Her jaw ticked. "So...he needs an IV or some kind of medication, right?"

"I..." Monica faltered, glanced at Brenda, but the other woman just shrugged. Elizabeth ignored it and continued to hold Monica with a steady, calm gaze. The doctor cleared her throat and regained her authoritative tone. "No. We've given him some painkillers. The concussion will wear off and he'll be fine. Provided he's woken up every hour and watched closely."

"And I can't do that from the penthouse because..." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest of Monica's excuses as to why she was somehow too inept to take care of Jason. Why they'd given him drugs when she knew he'd rather suffer twice the pain.

"You're a waitress, Elizabeth," Monica tsked and Elizabeth's spine went rigid. She'd heard that tone so many times before, but practice did not make perfect. Growing up, she'd barely tolerated being patronized by the people she considered family. She sure as hell wasn't going to take it now. Not when Jason needed her to fight for him.

"Yeah, you're right, Doctor Quartermaine. I'm a waitress. A lowly, minimum wage waitress. No where near as smart or powerful or wealthy as you," she smiled sweetly. Claiming one step, she had to lift her chin to look the doctor in the eye. "And yet somehow I managed to take care of your son when I found him shot and bleeding to death in the snow. I may not live up to the Hardy legacy, but, well I'm not really a Hardy am I?"

Confusion darkened Monica's brow. "What are you-"

"I made Jason a promise. And unless Jason's...bleeding to death on the operating table, I'm keeping that promise," Elizabeth vowed, her voice shaking with barely suppressed nerves and anger. How dare this woman, who claimed she wanted to know Jason so desperately sit there and make decisions for him? Monica didn't know him at all. Muttering her disgust, she brushed past the woman before she said anything she'd really regret.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" the doctor demanded, grabbing Elizabeth's arm and spinning her around. "I've already made up my mind, Elizabeth. I know you care about my son and you're more than welcome to spend the night with him here, but he's staying in the hospital."

"Why? So you can make up for the stellar reception he got when he woke up after the accident?" she fired back, her eyes wide and accusatory.

"Oh, shit," Brenda groaned softly and looked away.

The expression on the doctor's face might have been comical if there hadn't been tears in her eyes. Elizabeth winced internally, but held her ground as Monica's lips thinned and went white. "How dare you. You don't know the first thing about Jason's accident. You didn't even know him."

"You're right, I don't...I didn't. But I do know what it did to him," Elizabeth challenged. Her throat burned suddenly and she couldn't swallow. Later, she'd probably feel guilty for playing her hand like this, but right now, she wasn't important. All that mattered was getting Jason out of the hospital like she promised. Gesturing around them, Elizabeth did her best to reign in her emotions. "He hates this place, Monica. Everything about it from the lights to the smell-everything. I'm not making him stay in a place he hates."

"Even at a risk to his health," Monica demanded, hackles still raised.

"What risk?" Elizabeth countered. "I have to watch him, right? Make sure he wakes up every hour, that he can carry on a conversation? I can do that. I'm not going to drop him off at the penthouse and go out clubbing with Brenda."

"I-I think I should stay out of this," Brenda tried to say, but neither woman heard her.

"If you care about Jason, you'll do what's best for him," the doctor insisted.

"No, it's because I love Jason that I'm getting him the hell out of here and taking him home," she cried. Frustrated tears pricked at her eyes and she looked away, blinking furiously. The Quartermaine's were impossible. No wonder Jason hated going to that house. "You don't get it, do you? Being in this place is a nightmare for him. It brings back every insecurity he has and if you knew him at all, you'd understand that."

"I don't believe this," Monica scoffed in awed disgust. "First, you challenge my medical decision about Jason's health. Then you persecute me about the accident which you admit to knowing nothing about and now you tell me I'm completely clueless when it comes to my own son."

"I don't give a damn if I've hurt your feelings. This isn't about you," Elizabeth declared. Resigned, she turned on her heel. Monica obviously didn't have a good reason-a life threatening reason- to make Jason stay and she didn't care to stand there and futility argue with the woman. Over her shoulder, she carelessly called. "Unless Jason's going to die if he sets foot outside this hospital, I'm taking him home."

Brenda's wary gaze had jumped from Elizabeth to Monica, back and forth like a game of tennis as the women traded insults. Now, as the doctor moved to strike back, she steeled her resolve and grabbed the older woman's arm.

"Monica, don't," she warned.

"Oh you're in on this, too?" she demanded, spinning around and pulling her arm from Brenda's grasp. "I thought you were staying out of this. Or...that maybe you'd understand. You were there, Brenda, you-"

"She's not a Quartermaine, Monica," she replied, ignoring snide remark. Reaching again to touch the other woman's arm, her hand closed into a fist around empty air when the doctor took a step back. Deliberately, she added. "This isn't some scheme to undermine you or hurt you."

"Oh really," Monica scoffed, but some venom in her voice had dwindled. The mask of professionalism began to crumble and the scared, desperate woman peaked through. "And I suppose she thought I'd laugh at her insinuation that our concern for Jason after the accident somehow ruined his life."

"No, I think she's probably going to feel really guilty about that one," Brenda muttered. Fighting with a Quartermaine had always made her uneasy. Four years away hadn't changed that and and already her stomach was tying itself in knots. Rubbing at her forehead absently, she studied the older woman. "Monica, be honest with yourself. Does Jason really need to stay here? Or are you just trying to take the opportunity to have him near you?"

Brenda held her breath as she waited to see if she'd stepped over some imaginary boundary. The Quartermaine's had been family to her once, but maybe that had changed. Four years was a long time. Maybe too long to be gone and expect to be allowed to comment on such personal family landmines.

Then Monica sighed and lifted her chin. The stark wall over Brenda's shoulder suddenly held the doctor's rapt attention. Her voice was harsh and strained. "I did treat her like one of the family, didn't I? That remark about her waitressing was probably uncalled for."

"Yeah, well...she got you back," Brenda quipped and the older woman grimaced. "Look, if Jason's life is really in danger, Elizabeth will listen. But don't turn this into some attempt to take care of the son that has pushed you away. I don't think I have to tell you, he won't thank you for it."

Silence fairly echoed in the waiting area, blanketing everything in a cocoon that made her ears buzz as Brenda waited for the doctor to respond. Finally the older woman cleared her throat, a mask of detached professionalism slipping back over her features, but her voice was still raw.

"Elizabeth will probably do just fine taking care of him," she conceded quietly. "So,if you don't mind, I've got other rounds to do and I'd rather not see her when she comes out. Just tell her to make sure Jason wakes up every hour. She needs to ask him questions he actually has to answer with more than a yes or no. If he doesn't respond, she needs to call us, not you or Sonny or one of the guards."

"I'll tell her," Brenda promised. As the doctor started to return to her other commitments, she felt compelled to add something. Even though she was beginning to understand much more why Jason chose to separate himself from the Quartermaines, he was still part of the family in Monica's eyes. "I'm sure Jason will be fine."

Monica paused at the hallway and gave a brief nod. When she was out of earshot, Brenda released a huge sigh of relief. "That went...well."

~*~


Sonny Corinthos sat in his rented suite at the Port Charles hotel-alone. The solitary state was becoming all too familiar and it made him nervous. Solitude gave him too much time to think. He'd agonize over Elizabeth and his nonexistent relationship with his own flesh and blood. Then Carly and his failed marriage. Even though the damn union had been dissolved twice already, the bitter sting of failure still made him bleed. Inevitably, his thoughts settled on Brenda. Nearly three weeks had passed since he last spoke to her and he was unnerved by how much the silence bothered him. Unnerved, but not surprised. Brenda Barrett was his drug. His Achilles heel. He was damned tired of focusing so much on his weak spots.

The phone, perched within easy reach of the overstuffed couch, rang and he picked it up on the first shrill cry. Thinking it was Jason finally calling him back, he barked a greeting. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Um...at home?" a feminine voice responded with surprise and more than a little sarcasm.

"Brenda?" Sonny sat up turned on the table lamp. Speak of the devil and she shall call.

"Yeah, it's me," she confirmed. "Is that how you always answer the phone? Not really the way to win friends and influence people, Corinthos."

"I've, uh, been trying to get a hold of Jason all night," he stumbled, falling all over himself in his attempt to explain. "What's-why are you... Is something wrong?"

On the other end of the line, he heard her sigh. Her voice was soft and calm, but the underlying tone of weariness didn't escape him. "Sort of. Jason's at the hospital."

"What happened?" he demanded, his thoughts instantly jumping to his sister and trying to predict the new calamity that had befallen her. "Is Elizabeth okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine," Brenda assured him. "It's not Elizabeth this time. It's Jason. There was an accident at the warehouse and he-somehow he ended up with a concussion."

"Why didn't anybody call me?" he demanded.

"Sonny, quit worrying about yourself for a second-."

"I'm not-."

"And get down here to support your friend and your sister," Brenda continued, impatience increasing with every word. "She's already had to fight with Monica to get Jason released and she'll probably be upset with me for calling you, but I thought you should know. Last I checked, you considered them family."

Stung by her hostility, Sonny's indignant protestations faded away, unspoken. Running a hand through his unruly hair, he nodded to the empty apartment. "I'll be there in five minutes."

"Good," came the short reply. He wasn't surprised when the connection immediately died. Carefully, he replaced the phone in the cradle. Paranoia was his curse. It had been following him for days, weeks, ever since his world started to unravel and all the people he considered family had shifted and changed. As best as he could, he ignored the fear that he was being phased out of his own life. Chalked up the feelings to his own delusions. Now, he was no longer so sure.

Something had to change. Either things needed to shift back, or he needed to shift with it.

~*


Did death look like this?

Elizabeth hovered at the foot of the padded exam table Jason lay on and stared. The doctors hadn't yet had time to remove his clothes and put on one of those scratchy, thin hospital gowns. A heart monitor beeped at his side, connected by a clip pinching his finger to find a pulse. That was it. The only sign that Jason Morgan still lived and breathed in this reality. Closing her eyes, she listened to the steady, strong beat of his heart and pushed down the hysteria fighting to erupt to the surface.

He'd do this for me.

The mantra-running on a continuous loop in her head-had been there since she first set off down the dark hallways of the warehouse after she heard the crash. Not that she needed the encouragement to stay at Jason's side, to fight anybody and anything for him when he couldn't. No, Elizabeth did that willingly, eagerly.

The mantra was to keep her from breaking down and sobbing.

Seeing him like this wasn't right. A great sense of injustice pervaded her senses. Jason Morgan was invincible. Despite dragging him out of the snow and willing him to live, Elizabeth never doubted for a second that he'd pull through. And when he did, she'd somehow managed to convince herself that she'd never see him like that again. That he'd never need her to so literally save his life.

The echo of her thick soled boots against the white tiled floor of the emergency room was both a hollow thud and an impossibly loud cannon. Moving from the foot of the table to his side, Elizabeth never took her eyes from Jason's still face. With a gentle hand, she brushed cool fingers against his cheek, inexplicable relief comforting her at the warmth of his skin.

"Jason?" she spoke his name, unsure as to what the question might be. Even more uncertain of the answer. The beep of the heart monitor made it hard to focus. "Jason, can you open your eyes for me? Can you hear me?"

The prone figure on the table moved. His head lulled slightly towards her touch and his fingers brushed against her hip. The electronic pulse of the monitor changed its pattern and sped up.

Elizabeth clasped the hand at her hip gently and squeezed. "Now would be a really great time to wake up, Jason. I'm kind of letting my imagination run wild here." She meant her voice to be light and airy, full of self-deprecation at her own silliness, but even to her own ears she sounded scared. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "I really want to get you out of here. I don't think Monica will let me win round two."

Jason sighed and made a soft sound of discomfort. Elizabeth dragged her thumb over his face, caressing his lips and jaw, willing him to wake up despite the concussion and the pain medication. A raw, edgy gnawing ate at her, pushing her to speed this up and get him out of the emergency room before someone came back and told them she had no choice but to make him stay.

Finally, with eyes still closed, Jason spoke. "Elizabeth."

"I'm right here," she promised, bending to speak directly into his ear. Her lips brushed the shell as she encouraged him. "Open your eyes, Jason. I want to take you home."

Almost imperceptibly, Jason nodded. Eyes still closed, and with more than a little of Elizabeth's help, he awkwardly, leveraged himself to a sitting position. Slouched against her, he slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the sudden light.

"My head...hurts," he said, pain encasing every word. Elizabeth winced at the vulnerability in the confession.

"You've got a concussion," she murmured, turning just enough to look him in the eye. The pupils were dilated, unfocused. Gently, she touched his forehead and smoothed away the lines of concentration and pain. "But you'll be okay. I guess the painkillers weren't that strong."

"They gave me drugs?" he demanded an edge of anger making his words sharp. The arm draped around her shoulder tightened, bringing her flush against his chest.

"I didn't know," she promised, trying to hold his faltering gaze. "Jason, I-"

"Why did you...let them?" his teeth were clenched, either to help him focus or in anger. His breathing sped up, becoming shallow and ragged. "Elizabeth, why-"

"I didn't. Jason, listen to me," she took his face between her palms, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her handle on the situation was deteriorating as quickly as his. The pain, confusion and vulnerability in his eyes squeezed at her heart. It would be so easy to lose it now, so simple to just collapse in his arms. But she had his attention, his hope was riding on her. Swallowing, she suppressed her hysteria. "I didn't let them do anything. I promise you. I didn't know. I wouldn't do that to you, okay?"

Jason's resolve faltered and broke. With a sigh of surrender he dropped his chin, his forehead met hers. The arms that had been holding him to her in desperation now wrapped gently around her, cradling her to his side.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as his cheek grazed hers and he nuzzled her hair. Elizabeth closed her eyes held him tight, drawing strength from the solid form beneath her arms. His words were muffled as he buried his face in her neck. "I'm sorry, I just...my head-hurts. And I can't-"

"I know, I know," she murmured next to his ear. Threading her fingers through his short, thick hair, she held him close and whispered words of promise. "I'm taking you home and I'm going to take care of you. So, don't be sorry. Just...trust me."

"I do," he promised, his voice thick. With Herculean effort, he lifted his head and graced Elizabeth with a glimpse of the beautiful blue eyes she loved. "Sometimes I-I think...you're the only one I trust."

~*~


Brenda wasn't prepared for Sonny's arrival. She'd been sitting pleasantly in the waiting room, flipping through an ancient issue of People when all of a sudden, she felt him. That overwhelming awareness that made it nearly impossible for her to concentrate. A tightness in her throat made it hard to swallow. Damn him.

"Brenda," the soft, smooth baritone caressed her nerves and made her shiver. As soon as the pleasurable sensation ended, annoyance replaced it. Nice, safe and comfortable.

"Sonny," she greeted him coolly, keeping her eyes focused on the glossy pages of the magazine. "You got here fast."

"I told you five minutes," he shrugged. Without waiting for an invitation he took a seat next to her. Probably just as well, since she wasn't going to ask him anyway. "So, what's going on?"

"Well, Elizabeth's in with Jason right now. Waiting for him to wake up," Brenda replied as nonchalantly as possible. He was sitting too close. The warmth of his body bled through the rumpled silk suit she could see out of the corner of her eye.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded.

With a sigh she tossed the magazine to the end table. Turning her head just slightly, she caught a glimpse of his face. Concern, worry, and apprehension were etched across his features. "I don't really know. Elizabeth called me from Jason's cell phone. They were at the warehouse and Jason was hurt. I came, we brought Jason here. He's got a severe concussion and Elizabeth had to fight Monica to get him out of the hospital, but as soon as Jason's up to it, she's taking him home."

"E-Elizabeth didn't say what happened?"

"I'm not sure she knows," Brenda admitted. Despite every promise she'd made to herself in the past three weeks of lonely, sleepless nights, she felt herself warming not only to the conversation, but the man as well. "And if she does, she's not talking."

"Do you think she'd hide it from me?" he asked.

"Well, the world does revolve around you, doesn't it, Sonny," she sighed with unveiled sarcasm. Nervous energy propelled her to her feet and she paced a few steps away from him.

"Brenda, look at me," Sonny said suddenly, completely out of the blue and her feet nearly tangled in themselves in her surprise. She stiffened and caught her tongue between her teeth. The stubborn streak that had been encouraging her to avoid him now berated her for letting him dictate her actions. Swallowing, she turned to his command, lifting her eyes and meeting his defiantly.

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't...I don't know what you mean? she faltered. Her indignation held as he assessed her face. The ebony eyes she still dreamed about searched every pore, every line he'd missed in the past four years. In a rare moment since her return, she felt the full weight of his gaze. She shivered.

"On the phone you were...distant. And now, you won't...won't even look at me," he murmured. A troubled line appeared between his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Brenda all but deflated, her walls nothing but playing cards. Thick and strong when examined straight on and flimsy as paper when looked at from the side. But still, she tried to maintain. "Nothing's wrong, Sonny. I'm just...worried about Jason. I already had my turn being the center of the medical attention."

"Brenda-"

"Please, don't," she pleaded. Now was not the time to get into the plethora of reasons why she'd been avoiding him for the past three weeks. Despite dreams-both of night and day-that centered around him, she had to be strong. For once in her life she was going to be strong.

"You've been avoiding me for weeks," he admonished, but gently, with more confusion than ire.

"I know but...Now is not the time, Sonny, " she decisively stated the thought that had been rolling through her brain.

"Is there ever going to be a time?" he asked quietly. The question held no demands or hidden meanings. Sonny really wanted to know if she'd ever talk to him again, like she used to. Or at the very least, he needed to know why.

And she couldn't tell him.

Her chocolate brown eyes met his and held, wishing she could be honest. Explain in a way he'd both understand and accept. Clearing her throat, she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sonny-"

"Brenda, can you help me here?" Elizabeth's voice cut through the silent staredown and Brenda blinked. The connection with Sonny lost, she turned and quickly focused all her attention on Elizabeth. The younger woman flashed her a smile that didn't last. "Thanks. I... Sonny."

"Elizabeth," the mobster nodded. Brenda winced internally as her former lover tried unsuccessfully to mask the raw hope of seeing his estranged sister.

"What are you doing here?" she asked warily.

"I called him," Brenda explained. Almost eager for the distraction, Elizabeth tore her gaze away from her brother. Accusation blazed in her eyes.

"I have this under control, Brenda," she whispered urgently. "It wasn't necessary for-."

"Elizabeth, I'm not going to try to take over," Sonny cut in quietly. Throwing his hands out to his sides, he shrugged. "But I can help. I want to be a part of this. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it."

Brenda held her breath as the younger woman regarded her brother with a mixture of distrust and hope. Absently, Elizabeth chewed her lip and when she finally spoke, it was to the floor at Sonny's feet, rather than to the man himself. "I think it might help...it might be easier if you helped me with Jason. He's got a concussion and Brenda and I aren't really-"

"Whatever you need," Sonny murmured. Without another word, he took Brenda's place, sharing the semi-conscious enforcer's weight with his sister. For a moment, everyone hesitated, glancing nervously at each other until the awkward silence spurred Brenda to speak.

"Okay, Right. Well...let's get out of here before Monica gets back," she nodded decisively and turned on her heel, not waiting to see if the others followed her lead. They'd either get in the elevator together, or she'd have a nice, peaceful ride away from the tension whlie they caught up to her. Either way, Brenda had spent more than enough time in hospitals.

In the shadows of a darkened hallway, someone did wait and watch, however. With tears in her eyes, Carly stood witness as the last facade of her family crumble to dust. The greatest fears she secretly harbored had come to pass. Elizabeth Webber had replaced her. Probably long before she even realized the woman was a threat. And Brenda. Brenda Barrett. What a fool she'd been to ever think Sonny wouldn't go back to her. The woman was a force of nature. Hurricane Carly didn't rate.

A sob escaped her lips that she tried to hide behind laughter. She had the answers they probably wanted. How ironic. For once, nobody would be shouting at her to go upstairs or to shut up. This time, she could be valuable and necessary instead of a pleasant diversion to bide the time between crises.

"They never wanted my help before," she whispered. Finally, squeezing her eyes shut and banishing the image of the happy family from her mind, she turned on her heel and stalked down the quiet hall. Angrily, she swiped at the tears that fell determinedly down her face. "Fuck them. They can figure this out on their own."

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty-Three


Brenda bounced her house keys off her thigh in an erratic symphony. The jingle echoed in the crisp night air, effectively alerting the entire world to her presence. The guards scattered around the property swiveled their clandestine gazes towards the walkway, breathing a sigh of relief when they saw not only their charge, but also their employer ambling up the path. Briefings on the warehouse attack had spread quickly through the ranks. The guards throughout the organization buzzed with something near paranoia. Nobody took Jason Morgan down. It just didn't happen. The enforcer's incapacitation sparked fury and fear into the forefront of every man's mind as they watched the duo now nearing the small porch. The keys still clanged like a brass band in the night. Brenda didn't even realize she was making noise at all until Sonny gently took her hand.

"Do you have to do that?" he questioned, not unkindly. His brow furrowed and the heat of his touch bled through her coat to warm her wrist. Swallowing, Brenda curled her fingers into a fist around the keys and shrugged away from his grasp.

"I...sorry," she muttered. Sucking her lip between her teeth she focused on the steps that led to the door. Just a few more feet and she could quit trying so damn hard to keep her distance. Especially when she couldn't even figure out why staying aloof was so important and when it was so hard to-

"Are you sure you're okay out here?" once again Sonny cut through her thoughts. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she stifled a sigh. Not looking at him would be difficult. Turning around to face him would be worse.

Tilting her head back to the star filled heavens, she nodded. "I'm fine out here. I like it."

"You're alone."

"For the first time ever," she agreed with unmasked pride. A smile touched her lips and the compulsion to glance Sonny's way won out. Even if it was only a glance. "It's nice. Amazing, really. That I can do it. I've always-There's never been a time when it was just me."

They'd reached the front door and this time the jangling of the keys was a sign of use. Brenda crossed the threshold, her footfalls making light slaps on the hardwood floor. The cottage felt new or at the very least different. The furniture, carpet, windows...even the paint felt like it belonged. Belonged to her.

"You...like being alone?" Sonny's voice, close and soft, wrapped around her. Turning, she found herself nearly in his embrace. She hadn't heard him cross the floor. The inner door was still open, allowing the cool November wind to sneak inside. When she shivered, she pretended it was about the cold. He brought a hand up to cup her elbow, his thumb moving slowly over the thick black leather sleeve. She probably shouldn't have felt it, but his touch bled through.

"It's new," she finally whispered. His nearness warmed her and she bit her lip again. Keeping her gaze over his shoulder, she did her best to find the cold. "New is good. Keeps me from getting bored. You know how much trouble I can get into when I've got nothing to do."

His chuckle was low and husky, while his gaze never left her face. There was a certain gleam to his eyes, one she thought she recognized in the moonlight. For a moment, she bristled, ready to pull away from some attempt at seduction, but when she darted a quick glance his way, he wasn't looking at her anymore.


"I don't know how to be alone," he admitted. "But I always end up that way. I think it's my fault, but uh...I haven't figured out how to stop it."

"Is that why you drove me home yourself?" she asked, the words tumbling past her lips without hesitation. Her cheeks colored pink with humiliation and remorse. Sonny's ebony eyes met hers for the briefest of moments before she evaded him yet again. Her fingers, though, sought him out, lightly touching the warm wool of his overcoat. Almost instantly, his cologne, so familiar and comforting washed over her. Licking her lips, she stammered an apology. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I-"

"What way? I worry about you," he interrupted. The grip on her elbow tightened and she took a half step closer. Her knuckles brushed the front of his shirt, curling tighter into the coat. "Out here. Alone."

"You've got half your guards surrounding this place, Sonny. You don't have to worry about me," she smiled lightly, but the feet she ordered to move away and the fists she demanded unclench ignored her. With the smallest shift she allowed herself to study his face out of the corner of her eye. Something akin to awe sparkled in the coal black of his eyes. His other hand crept up to brush a lock of hair off her forehead. Lingered on the smooth olive skin. Drawing a shuddery breath, her voice whispered across his lips. "Especially right now, you know? I mean, Jason...Jason's the one who's been hurt. Elizabeth is the real target in whatever this mess is."

"Didn't stop you from getting pushed down a flight of stairs," he challenged, anger entering his voice for the first time since they'd begun the strange dance that she found them in. Floating, anchorless in the middle of the landing. No where to hide, nothing to lean against for support. Except Sonny, his arms wrapped around her, hanging on tight.

"I'm fine," she promised, clinging to him that much tighter. Her heart constricted in her chest, its beat pulsing throughout her body. Frustrated tears pooled in her eyes. This was exactly what she'd been guarding herself from all night. Keeping his at armslength. Protecting the fragile world she was trying to create for herself. Everything in her screamed to pull away.

"I know," he nodded, pulling a face that clearly depicted the lie of his own words. The strain in his voice caused a small wave of satisfaction in the only remote corner of her mind that wasn't struggling to comprehend all that was happening. At least Sonny seemed just as confused. "I just...I lost you once. I know things aren't the same, but Brenda...don't make me try to survive it again. I won't."

Words of reassurance struggled to form in her mind, but Brenda couldn't make her lips speak them. She wanted to be angry, to fight against the hold Sonny had on her. She didn't need him in her life, she didn't want him beyond his friendship. Years ago...years and years ago she'd given that up. It had been a choice. Her choice and she had to live with it.

But he wasn't playing fair. She squeezed her eyes shut. He was bringing up the past and he wasn't angry. The temper she'd seen so many times, cringed from more than once, was nowhere to be found. His depthless eyes held nothing more than a quiet desperation. At that moment, she didn't know if they were windows into Sonny's soul, or just a mirror of her own.

"Sonny, I don't...I don't know what..." she stammered, vaguely aware of her fists clenching tighter around the black wool coat. Warmth spread down her back as he slowly wrapped an arm around her waist, abandoning the crook of her arm for something more intimate. Opening her eyes, she found herself paralyzed by the nearness of him. His lips were a whisper from hers, his eyes drinking in her face. Her breath hitched. "I don't know what's happening."

"We never did," he murmured. "It always just...happened."

"And we never..." she drifted closer, too close and her lips brushed his. For a moment, time stopped and they hovered. A breathless space separated them for an instant before they fell, mouths crashing against each other. He tasted the same, she rediscovered first. Dark and rich, like the coffee he sold or the brandy he always had on hand. Riding on a momentum that had been building since she stepped out of the church into the rain, she tugged on the lapels of his coat. When that didn't bring him close enough, her shaking fingers unclenched from the fabric and framed his face. The connection continued, desperate and confused. Time fell away and Brenda couldn't have guessed how long they held each other, trapped in a kiss neither could continue or break.

The very air shook when they finally drew another breath. A lonely gulp of air that brought her crashing back to reality. Her fingers still shook when she drew them away. With her eyes closed, she tried to find her balance.

"That was..." Sonny's tried to speak, his voice barely a rasp in the stillness of the night. Brenda's numb fingers flitted over his shoulders, then down the lapels of his coat as she tried to find her equlibrium. He drew another tight breath. "That was..."

About time? A mistake? Inevitable? Brenda pursed her lips and forced her eyes open. No resolve rushed in to save her, but she didn't have the strength to define what had happened. Words were too fleeting. Lifting her lashes slowly, she summoned her courage and looked him in the eye. That was probably really bad timing.

She watched him carefully for denial or disagreement, but his ebony eyes flashed in the moonlight with only a guarded acceptance. With effort, he nodded his head. Probably.

"I mean...if we were to...try to go back..." she stammered and took a hesitant step away from the warmth of his closeness. Sonny's hands slid quietly from her back to rest lightly on her hips. Brenda's rested her hands lightly on his. "We can't go back. What we had was...is-"

"Gone," Sonny nodded and stepped back, dropping his hands to his sides. Shadow covered his face and she couldn't read him anymore save for the inflection of his tone. But it was empty, his voice utterly void of any emotion. His footsteps still failed to emit any sound as he moved toward the door. "It would be dangerous. Especially now."

"You need to, um...focus on whoever, uh...tried to ki-hurt Jason tonight. It's more important," she frowned and nodded. Away from him, standing in the middle of her landing, everything felt too surreal. "And...Carly."

"And Jax," he added. She wondered if he knew Jax was as completely out of her life as Carly was from his.

"Um...thank you for the ride home," Brenda quirked a smile and cast her eyes toward the floor.

"Anytime," he replied softly. She held her breath, waiting for something she couldn't define. Waves of cold air continued to seep through the semi-open door. Remembering the warmth of his embrace, she felt a sudden stab of fear. On reflex she wrapped her arms around her torso. Almost in pain, she called out to him.

"Sonny wait What are we..." the chill in the air ceased. Eyes wide, she tore her gaze away from the floor, seeking his familiar sihloette at the door. He was gone. The door shut firmly in behind him. Alone. She was alone. Tears flooded her eyes and she sunk to her knees on the landing.

Covering her face with her hands, she struggled to breathe. Even with the solid floor beneath her, Brenda's world seemed to tilt mercilessly. She would fall. In the end, with or without Sonny, she was certain to fall.

A whisper saved her voice from echoing throughout the empty apartment on a sob. "What are we doing? What am I doing?"

~*~


Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned against the headboard of Jason's bed. With firm determination she willed herself to sleep. Just a few minutes would be enough. All she'd allow herself, really. Jason shifted against her, half of his face pressed against her stomach; his even breaths an affirmation of his own slumber. Without hesitation, her eyes drifted open and found the shadowed outline of a strong arm, draped across her hips to curl beneath her. A feeling of invincibility crested inside her and she almost laughed at her own foolishness. Jason was asleep, so deeply unconscious she almost doubted her ability to wake him when the current hour was up. And yet, she felt safe. Always safe when he had his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly.

Sifting her fingers through his hair-careful to avoid the tender wound just above his left ear-she closed her eyes again. Tension and fatigue waged a war in her body. While a part of her ached to curl up in Jason's arms and steal a few minutes of sleep with him, the other demanded her attention. She had to be on guard. To protect both of them while he couldn't. With a resigned sigh, her hands moved down the nape of his neck and over his bare shoulders. Artists fingers gently sculpting the firm curves of muscle and flesh. She was no good with clay. Her classes at PCU had taught her that much before she quit, but Jason...he could inspire her in just about anything.

Even fear, she admitted and grimaced. Her exploring fingers found a knot of tension just below his shoulderblade and she worked it absently. In perfect recall she saw Jason, body obscured by shadow, lying on the floor of warehouse. Helpless and vulnerable. For a split second the terror that death had finally caught up with him had paralyzed her, but then she'd been able to ignore it. Fear of the unknown was useless. Being with Jason taught her that. 'What ifs' didn't belong in her world anymore...at least not where his life was concerned. It was a conscious choice she made. Don't think about tomorrow.

And she didn't. Admirable really, considering the series of violent surprises that seemed to lurk around every corner. Threats to her happiness were never in short supply, with or without Jason. Taking a breath that barely made it past her tight throat, Elizabeth tried to banish the nagging at her gut. The fear, she forced herself to recognize. There it was. Despite her best denials, she was afraid.

When Jason woke up-not just for a few moments before drifting back to unconsciousness, but really woke up-what would he do? Push her away? Leave her locked in the penthouse under house arrest and guarded key? He'd done it before when a threat hit too close to home. Too close to her. The queasy knot twisted low in her belly. No matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore it, the fear wouldn't go away. Elizabeth could face just about anything and survive, but not that. Not again. She was done living her life without him. If he tried to push her away she'd--

The alarm buzzed on the nightstand and Elizabeth's eyes flew open. She'd been dozing. No where close to sleep, but her eyes had fallen shut of their own accord. With an absent swipe, she flicked it off, already focused on Jason. In sleep, his face was so peaceful, softer. It was mostly...his mouth, she decided, tracing his lips with a light touch. Full and perfect. Unmarred by stress and tension and worry.

"Jason," she murmured, letting her knuckles dance over the rough stubble on his cheek. He stirred, burying his face more fully into her side. His mouth grazed her exposed skin where her black tank top had ridden up and she couldn't stifle a gasp at the surprise contact. Thoughts of fear and the future melted away as he tightened his hold on her. She felt the full weight of his chest against her thighs. All hard muscle and warm flesh. She bit her lip and squirmed. Weren't there laws that prohibited a man from having this much power over a woman? Especially in his sleep. Swallowing, she nudged his shoulder and tried again. "Jason...are you awake?"

With his face still pressed against her side, his reply was muffled. The gentle fingers caressing his cheek stroked more firmly. He needed to look at her, she had to see his eyes. They'd been unfocused and cloudy at the last hour. She didn't know if that was from the pain killers or the concussion, but she hoped when he finally opened those baby blues, they'd be the ones she recognized. "Jason...Jason can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I'm...I'm awake," he mumbled, without moving. Elizabeth sighed. Guilt nagged at her. She wanted to let him sleep so badly. After the fight she had with Monica, however, she'd be damned if she let anything happen to him. "How do you feel?"

"Like the pain-killers are wearing off," he growled. Propping and elbow against the mattress he shifted his weight off her body. Part of her missed his comforting weight, but she smiled anyway. He hadn't moved on his own like that all night. She didn't want him in pain, but she knew he'd take it over the incapacitating sedatives.

Drawing a slow, deep breath that shuddered out uncontrolled, Jason pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. He uttered a curse and let his head fall to Elizabeth's hip. "What time is it?"

She glanced at the clock. "Late. Or early, I guess. 4:30." He fell silent at her side again and the quiet lengthened. A twinge of disappointment pricked at her that she immediately tried to stifle. Sleep was good. Just because the pain-killers weren't dragging him down anymore didn't mean the concussion wouldn't. Monica had said it was severe. In a move as natural as second nature, she touched him again. Her fingers played through the soft, silky hairs at the nape of his neck. Closing her eyes, she almost drifted off to sleep herself when he moved. She jumped as he took her hand.

"Elizabeth," he murmured her name so softly she barely heard the husky rasp of his voice, even in the quiet of the room. His fingers tightened around hers and he continued without lifting his head. "Elizabeth, have you slept at all?"

"I'm fine," she quickly assured him, squeezing his hand.

An uncontrolled yelp escaped her lips as she suddenly found herself yanked down beside Jason, nose to nose, eye to eye. Using the grip on her hand and a surprising burst of strength she hadn't expected him to have, he'd tucked her securely against him. His eyes were open now, slowly taking in her face. A calloused thumb traced her cheekbone, then lingered on her lips, making her shiver. His gaze followed the leisurely movements until finally meeting her questioning expression. "That's not what I asked."

"I've slept...a little," she assured him. His brow lifted, disbelief etched plainly over his features. In a gesture meant to soothe, she touched his temple, trailed her fingers down the side of his face and over his shoulder to rest on his bare arm. "I want to take care of you."

"I know," he admitted. Already, his eyelids were starting to fall. Whatever energy he had was fading fast. Without putting up any fight, he rested his forehead against hers and let his eyes close. God, she loved him. Prevalent in her mind, the power of it took her breath away. She loved him so much. More than mere words could ever express.

And she needed to take care of him. Laying like this, snug against his side, his heartbeat matching hers, Elizabeth would never be able to keep her eyes open. Sighing, she struggled to sit, only to be impeded by a heavy arm wrapped around her waist. Jason held her, his eyes still closed. "Jason-"

"Sleep with me," he murmured, his words almost slurred with his fatigue.

"I'm not going anywhere, I just need to sit up," she tried, but he held her firm. She'd turned her head, so his face was pillowed in her hair, his mouth against her ear.

"Please," he whispered, that voice-quietly demanding even in semi-consciousness-touched every nerve in her body, making her melt. Oh hell, she stifled a groan. She could never say no to a 'please' from him. Sighing, she snuggled closer to him. His lips feathered over her temple in a light kiss. Truth be told, she preferred this. The nearness to him. The feeling that if she held on tight enough, kept him close enough, he could never push her away again and nothing could come between them. Maybe he'd believe then, what she believed every day. That the only place she'd ever be safe was right here. In his bed, in his arms where even in sleep he was strong enough for both of them.

"Thanks," he sighed, barely forming the word on a breath of air. "You know I love you, right."

He wasn't asking, but she felt compelled to answer him anyway. She traced a pattern over his bicep. "Yes. I love you, too."

"Did you know...I dream...about marrying you?" the words dragged out as sleep pulled him further under. Her hand froze on his arm. Even in the dark, she knew her eyes were as wide as his were closed. Marry her. Marry her? Her throat closed and she struggled to swallow.

"You don't-don't dream," she put a smile in her words, even tried to laugh but nothing came.

"No," he agreed. "I don't." Silence fell over the room for such a long time, Elizabeth imagined he'd finally fallen back to sleep. The last words on the cusp of slumber... He couldn't have been serious. Probably wouldn't even remember uttering them when he woke up and the concussion abated. Her chest relaxed and she drew a breath. There was no way he'd meant that as any sort of...she paused. Proposal? Butterflies fluttered in stomach. All the air she could intake caught in her lungs and she was glad she was lying down. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to relax. He hadn't meant that. Not the way it sounded. Relief and disappointment warred equally with each other until he shifted by her side, only slightly, and whispered again.

"I'd want that to be more than a dream, anyway."

~*~


With crackly, hysterical energy, Courtney paced her small room. Seven steps one way, seven steps the other. Over and over in an endless pattern that had served to numb her brain many times during the past few weeks. This time, no matter how hard she tried, the panic only built in her chest until shallow survival breaths barely eked through her tightly closed throat.

"I might have killed him," she whispered aloud, not for the first time. Anguished, she stopped in the center of the room and pushed shaking fingers through her disheveled hair. "Oh my God, I he might be dead."

"He's not," a sharp, uncaring voice assured her. Whirling, she faced the door. The room's lack of size brought her almost nose to nose with her captor. Startled, she blinked.

"What?"

"I'm assuming you're muttering about Morgan," Sammy replied evenly, tapping a thick file against his thigh. Boredom colored his sigh and he flipped open the folder and focused his attention on the top document. "You didn't kill him. I think you overestimate yourself."

"He wasn't moving-"

"Who cares? Jason Morgan's alive and well and tucked up safely in his penthouse with little Nurse Webber to take care of him," Sammy paused a moment to study some fact more closely, then looked up to lock Courtney in his penetrating gaze. "Now if you had killed him that would have at least made things interesting."

"What do you want?" she mumbled, fear and desperation obliterating all her previous experience playing the con game. Tears blinded her and she stumbled to the couch she'd called a bed. Tucking herself in a ball, she wrapped her arms around her knees. "What the hell do you want with me?"

"I was right. You do overestimate yourself," Sammy replied with a shake of his head, snapping the folder shut. Confidence oozed from the very fabric of his tailored suit. "I don't want anything with you. You're simply useful to me because you know what you're doing."

"I don't understand."

"That's nothing new," he smirked. A touch of indignation fought its way through the chaos that was her mind and she scowled. Sammy didn't even flinch. "I don't need you, Ms. Matthews. I'm only slightly impressed that you tricked Corinthos and managed to infiltrate his stronghold. You're useful to me simply because you've already done what I need you to do."

"Why should I keep helping you?" she asked, bravery accompanied the indignation and she shot to her feet. His tone, his posture, is utter nonchalance only served to aggravate her already fried nerves. "You keep me here like a-a-a rat in a cage and expect me to cater to your every demand. I could refuse, you know."

The glare he fixed her with was worse than the indifference she'd been fighting to usurp. "That would be incredibly stupid. Even for you. Would you prefer I shove you out into the street so Morgan can put a bullet between your eyes."

"He wouldn't do that," she replied quickly with utter conviction. She'd made some mistakes with Jason. Hurting Elizabeth hadn't been her brightest move, but even with that...he couldn't kill her. Women were held above in his world. With all the mistakes Carly had made in the past, he'd never kill her for something like this. Not over a little...jealousy on her part.

Sammy's face dissolved into a robust laugh. Courtney felt her cheeks color. "Oh, he wouldn't? Why? Because you're a woman? Because you're weak? Because you manipulated your way into his bed for one night? Miss Matthews, when you finally get past these delusions you've created for yourself you'll realize the precarious position you're in. I'm your only hope. I'm keeping you alive. If not for me, Morgan would have ended your life the second he was done beating that thug you hired to rape Miss Webber into an early grave."

It wasn't true. Sammy just didn't understand. Courtney closed her eyes and fought with the bile rising in her throat. Breathing was already enough of a problem without wracking heaves threatening to overwhelm her. She could admit it now, Jason wasn't in love with her. That had been her foolish wish, one she naively clung to for far too long. But he wouldn't kill her. Too weary to stand any longer, she lowered herself to the far end of the couch, away from Sammy Tagliatti and his derisive gaze. Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against her knees. "What do you-what am I helping you do to?"

"It's business," he replied briskly, as if that was all the more she needed to know. Fine. She was his mindless automaton. She'd never expected more from him, but she needed something. The smallest crumb would be better than nothing.

"If you gave me a clue as to what I'm supposed to be looking for when I break into the warehouse, I might be able to get you more information," Courtney challenged.

"Would you impart that information to Carly Corinthos as well? Or are you planning on limiting your conversations with her to warnings about her friends?" Sammy asked quietly. Courtney had no response as her stomach knotted in apprehension. He knew. How could he know? She'd used a phone in the back of the warehouse. Discreet, quiet. The guard hadn't seen her...had he?

Sammy rose gracefully to his feet and crossed the short distance to the door. His posture was relaxed, composed, controlled as always. If he was upset by her contact with Carly, he made no show of it. In the doorway he paused and regarded her with a backwards glance over his shoulder. In the dim light his profile blurred with the shadowed hallway outside. "Corinthos is weak. He's been slipping for years. The ruthlessness that used to impress me is gone. It's business. Either he comes out unscathed or I take over. Simple as that. Even you should understand. I'm testing his resources."

"Why are you telling me?" she asked, even though she'd all but demanded the information.

She could see the smirk pull the corners of his mouth upward. Glancing about the room, he shrugged. "It might make things more...interesting."

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty-Four


Muttering a curse, Jason threw the pencil to the desk in frustration. Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, he fought against the pressure beating steadily against his skull. It came in waves that made him nauseous and respite only came when he concentrated on breathing. The longer the feeling lasted, the harder the fury swept through him. His fingers curled into fists and ground against his eye sockets. He was going to find whoever did this and beat their skull against one of the cement pilings by the pier until they screamed. They didn't have to bleed, just writhe in agony until he felt better. Then when he felt better, he'd do it again and-

"Jason?"

Jason jerked his fists away from his face like he'd been caught doing something illegal. Elizabeth was hovering at the foot of the stairs. Even ten feet away at his desk he could feel how badly she wanted to come to him. His skin tingled where the soft, cool touch of her fingers would touch his brow. He could see the searching, undemanding look of compassion in her eyes as she tried to soothe the headache that wouldn't go away. For two days, she'd been a constant by his side as he struggled first through the haze of painkillers, then the unrelenting agony of the concussion. He loved her for every second of it. So many times, he found himself wondering if the past three years had been some kind of hallucination and he was really still lying on the couch in her studio, sweating feverishly through a gunshot wound that had yet to heal.

But his head hadn't pounded like this when he'd been shot. His vision hadn't blurred and clouded with gray whenever the light hit his eyes just right. His body had suffered before-muscles protested and screamed when he tried to move from the couch just to look out the window. Staying still, recovering, hadn't been an issue because he couldn't move no matter how badly he wanted to. The monotony of laying on that couch every day had nearly driven him insane, but at least then it made sense. Now, today, his limbs moved. There was no debilitating hole in his side to hold him back and yet he still felt like an invalid. Move too fast and the dizziness nearly sent him to his knees. Too slow and his vision grew hazy and the world started to slow down exponentially until he didn't know if he was standing or sitting or laying in a vulnerable heap on the floor.

"Jason, are you alright?" Elizabeth braved one step closer. No, I'm not fucking alright. He wanted to yell, and the fact that she had prepared herself for it simply by staying away kept him from uttering a sound. Closing his eyes, he drew a deep breath; calming his stomach and forcing the throb in his head to abate.

"I'm...fine," he ground out, his teeth gritted in concentration. He couldn't take it out on her. He wouldn't. No matter how angry he was, Elizabeth didn't need to see it-or him-like this. Moving too quickly, he turned and stood. The desk chair rolled away from him, hitting the door with a solid thud. The world tilted in front of him and he grabbed at the edge of the table in panic to merely remain on his feet. He would not pass out. Elizabeth closed the gap between them by a few more worried steps. He shot her a look of warning he never wanted her to see and she stopped. Fuck, he was scaring her. Convulsively, he swallowed and forced his jaw to unlock. "Really...Elizabeth. I'm okay."

It wasn't really a lie. He was okay. Better than he'd been yesterday or the night before when the painkillers were still making him feel drunk and out of control. Hell, if he popped one of the Viccodin he knew were safely tucked away in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom upstairs, he'd probably feel better. Completely sedated, but the headache would lessen. No freaking way.

Elizabeth didn't say anything, didn't even sigh. Instead, she just waited. Jason forced his feet to move and close the gap between them. How did he make her understand? With an unexplicable sadness he realized she probably already did. She had to tilt her head to meet his eye. When he put his hands on her shoulders, the slightness of her frame caught him offguard. With considerable effort, he denied himself the comfort of wrapping his arms around her and leaning on her strength.

"I need to go to the warehouse," he said instead of what he really meant. I need to get the hell out of this fucking penthouse. He wasn't lying. Not really. It had been two days and there were things he had to take care of.

"Okay," she replied, lowering her eyes. Her hand crept up to cover his own on her shoulder. Small fingers found their way between his larger ones and gripped tightly-the only outward sign of how badly she wanted to refuse.

"I won't be gone long," he assured her.

"Sure," she shrugged. Guilt overwhelmed him suddenly and he wrapped his free hand around her, bringing her tight against his chest. The move surprised her enough for her to look at him. Dark blue eyes that always appeared warm, searched his face even as she relaxed against him. He brought her hand to his lips, kissed the gentle, porcelain fingers that brought peace whenever they touched him.

"Elizabeth, I'm better," he whispered, his voice thick with the constant pain in his head and the strange melancholy catching in his throat.

"I know you are," she promised.

"But my head still hurts. I'm...angry and if I don't get out of here, I'm going to take it out on you," he admitted, dragging his thumb across her knuckles as he clutched her hand to his chest. A new wave of pain burned behind his eyes and he winced.

"Jason-"

"I don't want to do that. I can't," he uttered through clenched teeth. His eyes burned as he struggled to read whatever she might try to shield him from. "You're being so careful with me and I hate it. Watching you tiptoe around me like I'm some bomb you're waiting to see explode-"

Her brow furrowed with indignation. "That's not how I feel, Jason. I'm not afraid of you."

"I know," he sighed, and lowered his forehead to rest against hers. "But I see you-"

"I get that you're frustrated. You don't have to shield me from that," she continued, cupping his jaw with her small hand.

"I have to shield everybody from that," he vowed.

"Jason-"

Before she could continue and her tear cloaked voice compelled him to stay and tarnish the most perfect thing he'd ever had in his life, he pulled away. His jacket hung in the closet and he wasted no time in extracting it and searching for his keys. At the door, he faltered. Was he really so close to the edge? His nerves were frayed, almost breaking. His skin itched to feel fresh air, see the sky, hear the waves break on wooden struts of the docks. He should ask her to come with him. Part of him demanded he extend the invitation.

But he really did have work to do. His job. For Sonny. No, not for Sonny, for himself. Jason had to do this for himself.

"Elizabeth-"

"Will you do one thing for me?" she asked. A real question. Not a thinly veiled demand like he'd expect from Carly, but an honest request.

"Anything," he promised.

"Let one of the guys drive you. Don't take your bike...yet," he faced her then, one hand still holding the doorway open to his escape. The arms he'd just held were wrapped tightly around her middle, holding herself together. "I know you feel better, but I just...I mean, I believe you, Jason. I trust you. You trusted me to take care of you and the least I can do is give that back to you, I promise. But today, can you please just-"

Something finally snapped. Ignoring the dizziness he knew would hit him, Jason abandoned the door and closed the distance between them in two great strides. For once, he dropped the careful control he always had around her and used the height and weight and strength he possessed. With one hand burying itself deep in her chestnut hair, the other twined securely around her waist, he brought her mouth to his. When was the last time he'd kissed her? It felt like a lifetime. She responded to him beautifully, her soft lips parting to pull him deeper. Maybe this was all he needed. Just this show of dominance so he could convince himself that even with an M-16 going off in his head on a continuous loop, he could still take care of her, protect her. Protect them both. His grip tightened in her hair and he tried to pull her closer, to consume her. Swaying slightly on his feet, his body rocked as the back of his thighs met the desk. Elizabeth lost what little balance she had and fell against his chest, jarring them both enough to break apart.

In the silence, the only sound was their commingled breath. Whatever had happened, Jason had stepped away from that edge. He still itched to get out of the confining walls around him, but something had abated. The dizziness was still there, the vision slightly blurred around the edges, but he wasn't pushing so hard to stay focused. He felt the rise of Elizabeth's chest as she took a breath.

"Was...was that me or the concussion?" she whispered, the barest hint of a smile in her eyes. The corners of his mouth pulled upward.

"Uh...a little of both," he replied breathlessly. Her lips were red and a little swollen from his bruising kiss. The words to ask if he'd hurt her jumped immediately to his tongue, but he checked the sentiment. She didn't want to hear that. Swallowing, he dragged his thumb over her cheek, his fingers still buried in her hair. He'd promise her anything. "I'll have someone drive me. I won't stay out too long."

"I know you'll be fine, Jason. You don't have to come back for my sake."

"Oh, it would be all for me, believe me," he murmured before dragging another kiss from her lips. Refusing to relinquish her until he had absolutely no choice, Jason tugged Elizabeth with him as he pushed away from the desk and started backing toward the door. Maybe he didn't need to go to the warehouse. Maybe he should just take her upstairs, take her to bed and stay there for another two days. If he wanted fresh air he could opened a damned window. Leaning against the doorframe, he held her there, extending the kiss, reveling in the taste of her mouth. Yeah, going back to bed sounded like a really good idea.

Damn, he groaned inwardly. He really did have things to do at the warehouse. The brilliant excuse now became an utter nuisance as he pressed one last kiss to Elizabeth's mouth before sighing and pulling away. Her forehead fell to his chest, the only sounds of the apartment or the hallway being that of their slightly erratic breathing.

"So are you going or staying?" Elizabeth asked and curled her fingers around his biceps. Jason swallowed and tried to speak. He was dizzy again, whether from kissing Elizabeth or the concussion, he didn't know. Absently, his hands meandered to her waist and casually held her. She turned her face into his chest, nudging him with her nose. "Jason?"

"I'm...thinking," he teased and closed his eyes against the blur of colors that came with the throb at his temples. Elizabeth chuckled and lifted her head. Jason knew now would be an excellent time to open his eyes. The perfect opportunity to prove that he was fine and more than capable of going out, but he felt so good at that moment, he didn't want to ruin it with the inevitably spinning room on the other side of his lids.

"Well, let me make it easy for you, Mr. Decisive," she teased. "I have to go to Kelly's this afternoon. Bobby must think I've fled the country or something."

"You're going to go to work?" he cracked one eye open.

"No, just checking in," she pulled away from him even though he still hadn't moved. Running her fingers through her tousled hair, she nodded toward the elevator. "You better get going."

"Are you kicking me out?" he demanded, opening both eyes and narrowing them at her. The flippant challenge in her eyes was worth the suddenly intensified throb of pain.

"Yeah, Morgan," she sauntered up to him, bracing one hand on the door, the other on her hip. Jason's gaze drifted to the delicate curve of her waist, cursing the paperwork at the warehouse. "Get the hell out."

He smirked and slowly straightened to his full height. Her eyes never left his face and by the time he stood completely upright, towering over her, her chin was once again tilted upward. Deliberately, he kissed her lips once more, then the tip of her nose. "You've been hanging out with Brenda too much. I'll see you later."

"Mmm," she murmured in what he could only guess was agreement. Leaving the door for her to close, Jason walked carefully to the elevator. The eternal pulse of the headache echoing with each step, but duller, further away. The elevator doors were open and he was almost gone before he heard her call his name.

"Jason?" she cried and he turned in time to see her swallow the apprehension and warnings begging to come out. He didn't say anything, simply waited for whatever she needed to express. The pounding in his head intensified minutely. She took a step into the hallway. "Please. Be careful."

He nodded in acquiescence and paused only a moment before adding a quiet. "You too." Elizabeth took her turn to nod and Jason held her gaze for one more brief moment before slipping into the elevator and letting the doors fall quietly shut. The pain stayed at bay as the floors ticked by and he almost didn't have to concentrate to keep breathing.

~*~


Carly rearranged the hem of her black wrap skirt for the fourth time in fifteen minutes and shifted on the couch. Jason's office was empty, practically bare and the leather covered monstrosity that served as furniture was stiff and unforgiving. She'd almost perched on the desk, but something about that didn't feel right. In the thirty seconds she'd hovered in the doorway to the spartan room, she'd realized she had no idea where she stood with the man who'd been her best friend since...well, since as long as she could remember.

Damn, Elizabeth. Carly pinched her lips together and kept from uttering the curse aloud. A very familiar anger swept through her, touching every nerve until her face was flushed and the tips of her fingers tingled. She'd known. Always known that Elizabeth was dangerous. For every barb Carly threw at her, every derisive jab she made at the petite brunette, underneath she'd known it wasn't about protecting Jason. She would have claimed until the end of time that her hatred of Elizabeth Webber was entirely about the welfare of Jason's too trusting heart, but in truth (that strange little phenomenon Carly rarely associated herself with) she'd been protecting herself.

Elizabeth wasn't Robin. Sure, she'd walk away from Jason at the drop of a hat, break his heart into a million pieces, make promises she never intended to keep and stomp all over his feelings. Carly had watched her do that countless times. The problem with Elizabeth was that she loved Jason Morgan. For all of Robin's promises of love and understanding, what the little wench had really wanted was Jason Quartermaine in the hot Jason Morgan wrapper. A nice, safe life beneath the guise of a bad boy.

In the end, Robin had no stamina. The little angel couldn't deal and she'd split. Not without delivering a final parting blow that ruined everything. An old wound, long scarred over, split open almost as fresh and new as the day the truth about Michael came out. If only that stupid bitch had kept her mouth shut, Elizabeth Webber might not even be a factor. Carly could have started a real life with Jason, made a real family. One that would last. Dragging her perfectly manicured nails over the armrest, she squirmed. The damage was done. Elizabeth kept coming back. Any hope that girl would be out of her life for good evaporated the minute Carly had arrived at the hospital and witnessed Jason's vigil at her bedside after Courtney's juvenile prank. If only that stupid girl had been better about covering her tracks. She huffed in frustration. In hindsight, she would have been content to carry on as before with that con-artist playing the part of family. Hell, she would have helped Courtney get Jason if she'd known what the past month would bring. Her entire world was falling apart-had fallen apart-and it could all be traced back to Elizabeth.

Anger and remorse reached its peak the moment Jason opened the office door. Carly's stilletto heels hit the floor with a resounding thwack that echoed through the small space. He winced and his eyes slowly found their way to her face. Fury propelled her to her feet and she cut the space between them down to nothing in a two strides.

"Where's your watchdog?" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. In a distant part of her mind she couldn't tap into, something begged her not to start this way. To save the rage for later on or another day altogether when Jason wasn't still reeling from the concussion. As usual, that something was ignored. "Or did the little angel let you out on your own?"

Jason stared at her for a moment, working through what she'd said. Closing his eyes, he scrubbed at his face and tried to move to the other side of the desk. Carly took a step closer, blocking his way. When he sighed, she bristled and his words merely acted like salt to her already stinging wounds. "Elizabeth's...not here. And she's not my watchdog, she's my-"

"Girlfriend, lover, confidant...yeah, yeah, I know what she is to you, Jason," she waved a hand at him dismissively. Her stomach turned at the description she'd just given. "It's practically tattooed to your forhead how completely whipped you are."


"What are you doing here?" he asked, confusion creasing a line deep into his brow.

"Oh, so I need an invitation now to see my best friend? Is that something new Princess Purity came up with or are you just caving to her demands before she even makes them?" Carly snapped each word off with venom dripping from her lips. This hadn't been her plan, but every barb felt good and prompted more. She'd been searching for someone to blame, a place to put every hurt feeling in what had happened to her life over the past few weeks. Sonny had already suffered a great deal of her wrath. Brenda seemed to know better than to get in her way. But Jason and Elizabeth...they lived right across the hall from her. Living together every day. Happy. While she was miserable.

Jason shook his head, slowly and with an effort that probably pained him. Brushing past her, he sank to the couch and covered his eyes with one hand. "Carly-"

"Don't 'Carly' me, like I'm some two-year-old you have to humor. I have every right-"

"Shut up, Carly!" he bellowed without even lifting the hand from his eyes. The abrupt order surprised her into silence for a moment. He used that to get another word in. "What...Do you want? And if you really came here hoping to piss me off by insulting Elizabeth, you did and now you can leave."

"I..." she swallowed the angry retort with effort. Ducking her head, she tucked a blonde lock behind her ear and pursed her lips, inhaling through her nose. She spoke again with effort. "I came to see how you were doing. I heard about...about what happened and I just wanted to know you were okay."

Jason opened his eyes, his expression softened slightly. "I'm fine, Carly."

"You don't look fine," she replied and meant it. His normally tan skin was pale by comparison. The confidence with which he'd always moved was marred by a hesitancy, a pain that he seemed to push through. "Maybe Monica shouldn't have let Elizabeth insult her and overthrow her diagnosis. Maybe you should have stayed in the hospital-"

"Maybe you shouldn't talk about things you know nothing about," a new, feminine voice interrupted her and hit the frayed ends of every exposed nerve she had. Carly bristled and turned to the doorway, already knowing who she'd find. Brenda Barrett, hand draped dramatically over the doorknob and arching a perfect eyebrow. Perfect. Everything about that bitch radiated perfection. Dimly, she was aware of a low groan from Jason before she rounded on the former model.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded.

The brunette moved smoothly into the room, perching casually on the edge of Jason's desk. Carly's cheeks flamed red at the familiar move. Brenda shrugged. "I was in the area and thought I'd see if Jason were here. Or Sonny. I haven't seen either of them for a couple days. Since we brought Jason back to the penthouse. How're you doing, Jase?"

"Fine," he muttered, still holding his head in his hands, refusing to look at either woman.

"You look better," she mused. Leaning towards Carly like a fellow conspirator she added. "He actually looks much better. The other night, he was so out of it. The only person he'd even talk to was Elizabeth."

"Brenda-," Jason warned, but without the usual menace in his tone.

In that instant, what little balance was left in Carly's world shifted and she could feel herself slipping from the familiar ground she was used to walking on. Jason hated Brenda. Had always disliked the woman and it was a fact Carly had clinged to when the supposed dead woman surfaced in town. Jason-her best friend-would back her up on this when Sonny started to waver. Jason wouldn't leave her or pitch her to the side for the brunette like every other person in town would. But that one word. Simply saying her rival's name in the same tone, the same patronizing, bemused acceptance with which he'd always addressed her snapped that last frayed cord holding her life together.

Caroline Benson could compete with Elizabeth Webber or Brenda Barrett. But she could never handle them both.

Her anger eclipsed the usual snide and catty comments she would have made. A deadly calm wrapped around her but did nothing to protect her. Unconscious of what exactly she was going to say, Carly turned back to Jason. "I came to see that you were okay. I'm...glad you are. Goodbye."

Without pausing to see if he looked at her or if he would ask her to stay, Carly shouldered her purse and stalked out the door. Tears burned at her eyes like a fiery rain, but she managed to make it to the waiting limo and into the quiet sanctuary of the back seat before she started to cry. Hot, angry tears that did nothing to appease the anguish in her soul. Elizabeth, Brenda, Sonny, Jason...

*~*


Elizabeth wasn't worried. Sliding the cue stick purposefully between her fingers, she executed a mildly difficult shot and felt a twinge of satisfaction as the bright red ball landed in the pocket with a solid thunk. Without pausing, she surveyed the table, eyes darting over the green felt. When she found her next shot, she recalled the pointers Jason had given her, lined up... and missed the shot completely. A loose curl escaped her hastily thrown together pony tail and she huffed. The strand fluttered around her temple before obstinately falling over her eye once again. Not worried, she reminded herself as she abandoned the game and returned the cue stick to the wall bracket.

"Just tired," she muttered to the empty penthouse as she sank into the cushions of the leather couch. The lightheadedness, the queasy stomach and the nagging way Jason's expression as he told her to be careful made her breath catch were all a result of sleep deprivation. Who could blame her? The past two nights, she'd been awake on the hour. At the time, the schedule hadn't seemed like a hardship. Now, alone and able to catch a moment by herself, the past 48 hours came back like a tidal wave. Three years, she discovered, was a long time. Enough time to forget exactly how scared she could be when Jason was utterly vulnerable. His life hadn't been in danger this time, but it was wrong to see him like that. Brought down to his knees by something still unknown.

She'd meant to only lean her head against the back of the couch and rest her eyes for a moment, but soon Elizabeth was startled out of a hazy dream state by an insistent knock at the solid front door. Without thinking, without questioning, she scrambled to her feet and flipped the dead bolt.

"Sonny," she blinked, completely caught off guard. She hadn't a clue who could have been at the door, but her brother had never entered her mind as a likely candidate. Her surprise doubled. She'd just thought of him as her brother.

Sonny's hand was still poised to deliver another knock to the door. Taking his time, he moved it to brace himself against the doorframe. Glancing first at the ground, then a point over Elizabeth shoulder before finally looking her in the eye, he cleared his throat. "Elizabeth. I'm ah...looking for Jason."

"He's not here," her mouth seemed to be working on automatic pilot, while her brain tried to catch up.

Mistakes.

Opening the door without asking who it was. Offering up Jason's whereabouts unbidden. Not checking to see that Max or Steven or Philip or whoever was supposed to be protecting her was still stationed in the hallway. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Everything okay?" Sonny asked immediately. Surprising them both, Elizabeth found herself nodding and opening the door wider, ushering her brother into the spacious living room with a careless gesture. The mobster started, his steps hesitant as he crossed the threshold.

"I'm just tired," she replied and shut the door securely, locking them both in the penthouse with a flip of the dead bolt. Nodding once at the door, she felt better. She'd screwed up the first part, but she was excellent at fortifying the homefront. Sonny had meandered his way to the pool table, studying the random layout of the brightly colored spheres, and keeping his back to her. Elizabeth stayed at the desk, crossed her arms over her chest in a protective gesture that was completely subconscious. "Jason's at the warehouse."

Sonny lifted his head from, his gaze traveling to some point on the wall. Still not ready to face him head on, Elizabeth was grateful for full view of his back when he spoke again. "I didn't know he was, ah...feeling that much better?"

A rueful smile tugged fractionally at the corners of her mouth. "He's not, really. But you know Jason. He wasn't made to be shut up in some penthouse like a prisoner."

"Yeah," he nodded thoughtfully, now staring out the balcony window as if mesmerized by the view of the harbor stories below. Elizabeth's head tilted slightly as she tried to picture what he might be seeing. The rooftops of the warehouses, the docks, the ships, the water. It all stretched out below them. A completely different world. One she'd stared at often enough since she'd been living here. Her shoulders relaxed suddenly, making it far easier to breathe. She liked the view. She'd missed it when she left.

Sonny turned suddenly and began heading toward her. Alarm had her tense again, waiting for him to get closer, but her brother's steps faltered. "I can go. If Jason's at the warehouse, there's no...no reason for me to be here."

"You don't have to leave," she found herself saying, once again surprised that her mouth saw fit to utter words her brain had yet to even consider. Her cheeks colored pink and she lowered her gaze. The fingers of her right hand found their way to the loose tendrils of hair at the base of her neck. "I mean, not because of me. If you have business to discuss...don't let me keep you, of course. I don't want to-to become a problem or...cause problems or-"

"Elizabeth," Sonny sighed and claimed a few more steps. "You're not a problem. I just...I know I make you uncomfortable. And I don't want you to-to feel that way."

"I'm no picnic for you either," she mused, shrugging one shoulder. Casting a furtive glance his way, she came further into the room to the couch. Tucking herself into the far end, she swallowed her anxiety and gazed expectantly at him. "And the only person right now who doesn't make me uncomfortable is Jason, so...don't feel bad."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I," she murmured. Her brother finally took the invitation she still didn't understand and sat gingerly on the edge of the couch. Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from rambling in the silence. The feeling of backsliding, of regressing to the girl she'd been a month ago, swept over her. She did not want to go back there. Sonny was going to be in her life; would have been regardless of blood ties and mysterious pasts that she'd probably never get all the answers to. He was Jason's best friend and business partner. Once she'd been fine with it. Things shouldn't change this much, this quickly.

"You know...the last time the two of us sat on this couch, I think it was right after Jason found you hiding in the closet," Sonny flashed his dimples at his hands, studying them intently. The smile came to her face instantly, borne of embarrassment.

"God, did I really do that?" she shook her head. She had. Oh yes, she'd hidden in Jason Morgan's closet, cluching a leather jacket that a stupid, naive boy had stolen. A lifetime ago. Two lifetimes. "So much has changed since then. Jason and I, you and I. You and Carly. And...Brenda."

The air in the room noticably changed and Elizabeth would have cursed her motor-mouth if she hadn't been trying to tip the scales of scrutiny away from herself. The dimples disappeared slowly and were replaced by a tight tick of the mobster's jaw. Seconds passed and stretched into a full minute before her brother chose to speak again.

"Does Brenda...make you uncomfortable too?"

She frowned. Not the first thing she'd been expecting to spark from the mention of the formerly 'dead' woman's name. She shrugged. "Brenda doesn't demand anything of me. She never knew me as...as anything other than who I am. Now. Today."

"Good," he replied thickly. "That's good. Brenda was always good at...seeing the truth in people. And liking them anyway. No matter how...bad for her it may be." His eyes swiveled in her direction. "She's...you're a lot like her. In that way."

Elizabeth smiled softly. "From anybody else I'd be expecting the 'you're being reckless' speech, but I kinda don't think I'm going to hear that from you, am I?"

"No. Definitely not," Sonny nodded and chuckled. "Because I know you're not stupid, Elizabeth. You know exactly what you're doing. It took me...and Jason...a long time to understand that. Even longer to accept that you wanted to take the risk. I think Jason's better at that than I am."

Elizabeth smirked at first. Until she realized her brother was serious. It had taken Jason years to get it through his head that she wanted to be a part of his life-no matter what the cost. She found imagining someone worse, someone more convinced their life was best lived alone, nearly impossible.

But she'd crashed that wedding that wasn't. All those years ago when Brenda Barrett had been nothing more than a model, Sonny Corinthos a mysterious criminal and Jason Morgan her best friend's brother. Elizabeth had almost been too enamored with Lucky to really pay attention, but she knew what happened. How many lives were changed on that one, single day.

"I think what Jason realized is that sometimes..." she paused, searching for the right words. Sonny was staring at his hands again, listening, but refusing to look. Selective blindness. If he couldn't see it, maybe it wouldn't hurt as much. She knew the feeling. "I think he realized that there's a kind of pain that's worse than physical. That by trying to protect everybody, he was doing more damage than the violence he's always so worried about. And not just to other people. I think Jason was tired of being in pain. Of missing someone for no good reason."

Sonny lifted his gaze then, away from his hands but still not acknowledging her. This was probably not what he came for, she knew, but despite everything going on in her head, the pain she'd felt for so long-the pain of missing Jason when he was standing right in front of her-was gone. Life still kicked her when she was down, but she could breathe again. Right now, Sonny was suffocating in something. While she couldn't identify the cause, she recognized the pain. Nobody, no matter what they had done, deserved that.

Swallowing, she offered up one more truth. One that scared the hell out of Jason, but resonated deeply enough to bring him to her. "In the end, none of it matters. Jason and I have been connected since the night he saved me at Jake's. The world saw it before we did. They'll keep seeing it. Even if we stop."

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty-Five


Brenda stared through the open doorway to Jasons office. Slow and steady, she drummed her nails over the lacquered desktop and fought with the unfamiliar and surprising feeling of remorse over getting the better of Carly Corinthos. Pulling her lip between her teeth, she swivelled her head in the direction of the couch.

You know, I think I feel bad.

Jason shook his head and a short breath that she thought might be a laugh escaped his lips. Yeah right.

No really, she insisted, ceasing the fingernail drum solo and leaning back on her hands. Appraising the door once again she nodded slowly. I do feel bad. I didnt come here to harass her.

Then what are you doing here? Jason asked as he wearily rose from the couch and making his way toward her.

Looking for Elizabeth, actually, she replied.

As he slumped into the oversized chair behind the desk, Jason raised a brow and looked pointedly around his office. Shes not here.

So I see, Brenda nodded absently. The remorse was still eating at her, but there was something else. Carly had been so...out of line. For all the claims she made to be Jasons best friend she treated him like crap. Without thinking, she blurted. Why do you let her treat you like that? Better yet, why do you let her treat Elizabeth like that?

What?

Carly. Why do you let her talk to you the way she does? Brenda asked, tearing her attention away from the door and leveling the enforcer with what she hoped was a very demanding and no-nonsense gaze.

For a moment, Jason looked like he might answer. Then with a familiar shake of his head, he reached for a pile of invoices near her crossed legs. Brenda, I dont want to have this conversation with you.

Well, I do, she stated emphatically, slapping her hand down on the pile of invoices and leaning closer. His blue eyes widened in surprise. Elizabeth is about the only friend I have in Port Charles right now and Im really curious to know why her boyfriend lets his best friend treat her like trash.

Jason grimaced and Brenda waited for a response, but all she received was silence.

What?

Boyfriend? he tasted the word and obviously didnt like what he found.

Shrugging her shoulders, Brenda huffed. Yes, boyfriend. Whats wrong with that?

Nothing, I just-.

Thats what you are to Elizabeth, right?

Yeah, I guess, I just never-.

I mean, I shouldnt say fiancee or husband unless theres another trip to Vegas I dont know about.

With a shudder, he shook his head. No Vegas.

Well then, I think boyfriend... suddenly she stopped and laughed. A quick, frustrated sound that once again had Jasons raising his eyebrows. Dont try to change the subject, Morgan.

Whatever. You dont seem to need my help, he muttered, reaching for the invoices shed momentarily removed her hand from. Not so fast, she thought, slamming her palm back on the stack of coffee numbers.

Jason, I asked you a serious question and I want an answer. Why do you let-.

Because if I try to stop her, Carlyll quit throwing all her bullshit on me and actually go after Elizabeth. Its easier to let her rant and get it out of her system before she goes and attacks my girlfriend, alright? His voice had grown louder and Brenda actually swayed away from him in surprise. The invoices were free and Jason took the opportunity to snatch them off the desk before she could react.

Rubbing at his forehead absently, he started to study the figures, but Brenda wasnt fooled. The familiar frustration she usually harbored toward him-or used to, before Luis Alcazar-had flared up quite nicely during the argument. Now, with that little nugget of information hed so loudly bestowed on her, she felt it drain away.

Oh. I see. That...makes sense, she admitted, toying with the pens thrown haphazardly into a heavy pewter holder that she was willing to bet money Jason hadnt picked out. Her brow furrowed. Thats actually, really sweet of you. To take all that from Carly just to protect Elizabeth.

Yeah well...Im used to it, Jason muttered in response, but when she glanced at him, she saw the lines in his face had softened, even if only slightly. And Elizabeth has enough to deal with. Right now especially.

Didnt they all? Brenda nodded absently and went back to her pen. It was a nice pen. No Mount Blanc, but still very nice. Some inner compulsion moved her to look up. The door to Sonnys office loomed large and solid, filling her field of vision. Suddenly, she could feel the ghost of his kiss on her lips, warm and soft, but strong at the same time. With a pang of longing she dropped her gaze. Shit. This was definitely not what shed come for. Why was she always putting herself in these situations? She knew very well there was a better chance Elizabeth was at Kellys than the warehouse and yet she came here first.

Dammit, she muttered, slipping off the desk and moving toward the door.

You okay?

Jasons concern for her, a concern he wasnt ordered to have, was still foreign and it surprised her enough that she only made it a single step away from the desk.

Im...fine, she lied, knowing full well he would see right through her. Jason Morgan, the human lie detector. Well, Ill be fine. Do you know where Elizabeth is?

She said she was going to Kellys, he offered. The appraising gaze that used to drive her insane was actually comforting in this moment as he looked at her like he actually cared.

Thanks, she nodded and commanded her feet to carry her to the door. Hesitating, she placed a hand on the knob, inadvertently mirroring the entrance shed made with so much more confidence. Jason, if I screwed things up with Carly, Im sorry. Seriously. I...dont want to make things tougher on you right now.

Its okay, he assured her, mildly convincing. Absently he laid the invoices on the desk and thumbed through the edges. There was sadness in his voice when he continued. Carly would have yelled at me whether you were here or not. And shell keep yelling at me, probably.

Why?

Because its what she does. Because of Elizabeth. Because I dont hate you and Im not... he paused and the pages stilled.

Youre not what?

I dont blame you for Sonny walking out on her. Carly knows that and I think...shes scared.

Of what? Me and Sonny? Brenda tried to scoff, but the tears that stung her eyes contradicted her light tone.

Of being replaced, Jason explained. She thinks you and Elizabeth are shoving her out of her world.

Well, she should be an adult and get over it.

This time Jason laughed and it was just as hollow as her own. The regret in his tone carried an edge of dread as well. Carly doesnt get over things. She plows through them and destroys them.

~*~


Wow. How long had it been?

Kelly's didn't look any different, but Elizabeth felt like she was seeing it with new eyes. The rickety tables, checkered table cloths, and worn counter all seemed older. The floor she'd swept and scrubbed so many times creaked as she shifted her weight nervously, a building quirk she'd never noticed in all the years she'd waitressed there.

Closing her eyes briefly, she tried just to listen to the still familiar bustle of people, the drone of the jukebox as it kicked out another over saturated top 40 hit and the faint sizzle of food on the grill in the kitchen. A veil had been lifted from her eyes when she found out she was Sonny's sister. The world was brighter, harsher and she felt more alone in it than she had before. She was the same, but...different. Somewhere, in some way she'd changed and the Elizabeth she was now didn't quite fit into the life she'd made for herself.

In a small way, she mused with a sigh as she opened her eyes, it was the rape all over again. Time to reinvent, rediscover and redefine who she was. She'd done it before and she had no doubt she could do it again, but damn she was tired of trying to fit.

A snap decision flashed through her mind and Elizabeth chose to go with her gut. Bobbie sat at the counter, studying a ledger and scowling every few seconds as she punched numbers into a calculator and furiously erased a figure here, adjusted a cipher there.

"Lukes been in the till again?" Elizabeth asked dryly, sidling up to the counter and leaning on it, rather than claiming a seat. Even that was too much of a connection.

"Elizabeth," Bobbie's very real smile had the brunette grinning in response. "It's been too long, sweetie. How're you doing?"

"I'm good," Elizabeth nodded. I'm Sonny Corinthos' sister and my entire life is a lie. I've got a psycho blond throwing me in freezers and trying to steal my boyfriend. Clenching her hands into fists she forced the smile wider and repeated. "I'm good."

The smile apparently sucked. Bobbie's brow furrowed in concern and she toyed with the pencil. "Are you sure? Because you don't need to come back until you're ready. You've...had a rough couple weeks."

I've had a rough life. Elizabeth nodded. "Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about. I think I'm...No, I know I'm not coming back, Bobbie."

The older redhead started and the pencil slipped quietly from her fingers to nestle in the binding of the ledger. "Not coming back? But why?"

"I...I've been doing this since high school, Bobbie. I'm older now. There are things I want to do," she tried to explain in a way that sounded legitimate without actually having to say she just couldn't handle being in the diner anymore. That the smell and the sounds and the way everything never ever changed made her want to tear her hair out at the moment. The only person who understood feelings like that was battling a lingering concussion in a warehouse down the docks.

"What kind of things...if you don't mind my asking," Bobbie pressed with such genuine concern and interest Elizabeth felt a lump swell in her throat.

"Well, painting of course. Travel. I...don't have any set plans I just feel...It's time for me to move on," she fiddled with the belt of her leather jacket and looked away from those caring brown eyes that probably saw too much. "A lot has happened in the past few weeks."

"I've heard. You're living with Jason again."

It wasn't a question and the smile that touched Elizabeth's lips this time wasn't forced. "Yeah. It's working a little better this time than the last."

Bobbie pursed her lips in thought, letting her eyes drift back down to the ledger. When she looked at Elizabeth again, tears made the gaze glossy. "Well then. Don't be a stranger. I demand that you stop in to see me here or at the hospital."

"I will," she laughed with relief, no longer fighting the tears that stung her eyes.

Impulsive to the end, Bobbie jumped from the stool and pulled Elizabeth into an embrace. "And try to get Jason in here, too. He was always really good with these stupid books."

"Oh yeah, he's quite the accountant," she grinned, returning the fierce hug. After the older redhead had released her and returned to her books, Elizabeth turned back to the diner, still smiling. She'd made a decision, moved forward. Toward what, she had no idea, but at least it was something. At least she was taking control of her life. At least-

"Elizabeth."

Oh shit.

Audrey Hardy hovered just inside the doorway, her familiar face fixed in a confused, forced smile. Elizabeth licked her lips. The older woman wasn't supposed to be back from her trip yet, was she? After a brief mental calculation, she realized she couldn't even remember where her grandmother had been.

"Did I...did I hear right? Are you seeing Jason Morgan again?"

She opened her mouth to answer her...Grams? Grandmother? Audrey? Mrs. Hardy? What the hell did she call this woman. In one short moment, all her confidence shattered and she was lost again. She hadn't been expecting this. Not now. Not today. Her family had ignored her for most of her life and now, when she really wanted solitude, she was trapped.

Eventually, she would have talked to the woman she'd called Grams for her entire life. The woman who had been lying to her-whether inadvertently or on purpose-for her entire life. Just what was she supposed to say?

"Uh...yeah. Yes, you-you did, Gra-um. Jason and I are back together," she confirmed with a sharp nod. She swallowed and her throat was dry and scratchy.

"I see," the older woman replied with obvious disappointment. Despite her own discomfort, Elizabeth bristled with indignation.

"Yeah, I know you don't approve, but I really don't care," she muttered tersely. Crossing her arms in front of her, she felt herself slipping into the familiar role of defending Jason. "I love Jason and no matter what you think of him, he loves me. A lot."

"Oh, Elizabeth, I know he loves you," Audrey sighed and moved closer, placing a warm hand on the younger woman's leather clad arm. Elizabeth froze and blinked in surprise. "It's not Jason that worries me. It's what he does. His life...it's so-"

"Dangerous, immoral, criminal, unethical, illegal," Elizabeth rattled off the labels with a shrug of her shoulder. "Am I forgetting anything?"

"I just want you to be safe."

"Jason keeps me safe. Perfectly safe," she retorted. Which was a perfect lie. Elizabeth felt totally safe with Jason, but he couldn't protect her from every danger in his world. Good thing she didn't care. "And even if he couldn't, he'd try. That's enough."

Audrey's sympathetic expression morphed a little. The edges grew harder for a moment and she opened her mouth as if to speak, but in the end, only sighed. "Can you do something for me, Elizabeth?"

What can I possibly owe you after a lifetime of lies, Elizabeth wondered, but again she shrugged. Audrey moistened her lips.

"Please be careful. I think Jason's life puts you in far too much danger, but I...I believe you when you tell me he loves you," she opened her arms and without waiting for a sign of acquiescence, embraced the younger woman. Elizabeth stiffened, swamped by the fragrance of magnolias and talcum powder she'd grown up with.

Closing her eyes, she held back the tears that burned at her eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Audrey was supposed to fight her and Elizabeth was supposed to be able to feel righteous in her dismissal of the woman from her life. She'd go her separate way and then it wouldn't hurt so much. The chasm between her life before and her life now wouldn't matter.

Elizabeth was suddenly angry at Audrey for not being what she expected. Sniffing, she pulled away and hastily swiped at her dry eyes.

"You should. Jason's my...he's my family," she landed heavily on the word, hoping-fearing-her grandmother's reaction would give away at least a glimmer of the past.

But Audrey merely nodded as if it pained her to agree. Not because Elizabeth had alluded to some hidden past secret, but because the woman who used to be her grandmother was trying to accept that the girl she still considered a granddaughter was dating a mobster.

The walls of the diner started to close in on them, squeezing the air out of the room and Elizabeth's throat convulsed. Muttering a cursory farewell, she nearly sprinted for the exit, leaving a bewildered and worried older nurse standing in the middle of Kelly's.

~*~


Jason blinked at the invoices spread neatly on the desk in front of him. The figures blurred and smudged interminably, refusing to take any kind of shape he could read. Muttering a curse, he pressed his thumb and forefinger to his eyes. The work had been an exercise in futility for nearly an hour and yet he was still at the warehouse. The headache that had chased him out of the penthouse had dulled to a low pulse that radiated from the base of his skull. Far from pleasant, but nothing like the torture he'd endured even six hours ago.

Giving up for the night was his only option. Shrugging into his jacket, he flipped the lights, tossing the building into premature night. Only six o'clock and the early December evening was dark as midnight. The brisk air held the promise of snow as it nipped his cheeks. Nudging the door shut with one heel, he barely registered the telling double click of the automatic lock before heading for the docks. Even before he could see it, the echo of frigid water crashing against the wooden beams thrust deep into the harbor floor, accompanied the night. In another month, a sheet of ice would cover everything and the harbor would be silent. Still.

Exactly what he wanted.

Right now, the pounding in his head, the constant stream of violence that shadowed every breath he and Elizabeth took colored his existence. The pit of loss and regret smoldering in his gut hadn't dissipated after Elizabeth came back into his life. It had only morphed into anxiety that fate was screwing with them all and would soon permanently drown them.

He was tired of it.

Dried leaves crunched under his boots as he rounded the bend and ducked beneath a low hanging tree branch he'd passed countless times. Nights like these used to be few and far between; reserved for the scattered moments the gasp he sucked in between clenched teeth was one gasp too many stepping on Death's toes. Nights like these the bike shop seemed like a paradise akin to the oases of Africa he used to read to Michael about.

But the bike shop had burned down and even on nights like these, Jason didn't really want to go back. He hadn't belonged to that docile world. The monotony stifled him and he probably would have ended up driving his bike off the cliff roads just for the rush. Stupid, dangerous way of thinking, but life had to be worth living. Not just existing from day to day for someone else. No, it was better to exist with someone else, because of someone else...

Elizabeth.

There she sat, on the bench he'd found her on so many times in their varied and complicated past. From the top of the stairs he watched her, able to make out her profile in the glow of the streetlight. Even from his vantage point, he could feel the sorrow swallowing her small frame. For the moment, he studied her, taking in the steady rise and fall of her chest, the dry eyes and tightly clasped hands. This one time out of a thousand, he didn't rush to her side, panic choking him at the very thought she might be in pain, the urge to fix it and bring a smile to her face the only thought in his brain. He was starting to accept that sometimes he was helpless.

Heavy footfalls reverberated loudly in the still night air as he announced his presence to the harbor. Elizabeth noticed, a melancholy smile touching her lips as she watched him descend the steps. Rather than rush to meet him, she lingered just in front of the bench, hands still tightly entwined.

"Hey."

"Hi," she nodded and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Gazing somewhat longingly at the water, she sighed. "How did you know to find me here?"

"I didn't," he admitted, never taking his eyes off her. How was Kellys?

I quit.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. You did?

It felt like the right thing to do, she responded softly, her attention still focused on the water. Something had happened, changed. She was carrying something on those small shoulders that wanted to pull her down and claim her. Something heavier than the strain of taking care of him for the past few days or the constant threat dangling over their heads.

"Elizabeth?"

Silent, she faced him once more, eyes luminous with unshed tears. His heart thumped painfully in his chest, breaking with helplessness. Her cheeks were pink from exposure to the cold and as she reached out her hand to him, the first of those tears spilled down the smooth surface.

"I'm so tired of this," she whispered, frustration emanating from her in waves even as she wrapped her arms around him beneath the flaps of his leather jacket.

"Tired of what?" he murmured, his own arms easily enveloping her, protecting her from the cold and hopefully whatever else was after her.

"Everything," the vow was muffled as she rested her forehead against his chest. He felt her nails through the fabric of his t-shirt as she clenched her fists. "I want to be happy. I should be happy. I'm with you. After so long, I'm finally, really with you and...and..."

"And?"

"And now everything else is broken," she sniffed and abruptly pushed away, pacing back to the bench and sitting down to stare at the bleak harbor again.

Casually, almost hesitantly, Jason moved to join her. Shoulder to shoulder, he took her hand in his, absently dragging his thumb over the chilled flesh. "What happened?"

After a moment of silence, her soft sigh preceded an equally subdued voice. "Audrey was at Kelly's."

Jason didn't understand at first, but then he noticed how foreign Elizabeth sounded calling the elder nurse by her name. Grams. Grandma. Grandmother. Everything the woman used to be, but now, to Elizabeth, wasn't. "Did you two...have a fight?"

"No," she replied immediately, her free hand curling over his knee as she turned to look at him. "You know what? I'm sorry. Let's just forget it."

The change in her was so sudden, Jason faltered once again. "Elizabeth, what-forget what?"

The hand he still held in his own was stiff and cold even as she squeezed it reassuringly. "You don't need to worry about this now. I mean, you've got a concussion. I-I don't need to make it worse by bringing up something you don't want to talk about anyway."

Jason closed his eyes. She was moving too fast and he couldn't follow her thoughts. Shaking his head once, he faced her more completely, settling his free hand on her shoulder. "Okay, first...don't do that. Don't try to protect me so much that you shut me out."

Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. "Jason, I-"

"I like that you worry about me, but when something is hurting you, I need to know," he pressed. Catching a lock of auburn hair between his thumb and forefinger he reveled in the texture. It was harder, he realized suddenly, to love Elizabeth than to be her friend. When they'd been friends, just friends, he could have told her anything without this fear choking him. Expelling a quick breath he forged ahead. "So just...forget about the concussion. What is it you think I don't want to talk about?"

"My...being Sonny's sister," she admitted with reluctance.

Jason frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"I found the birth certificate in your desk," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I wasn't snooping, I swear. I was just looking for a pen and I...found it. You hadn't mentioned it and I...I figured it was too weird for you and now as I'm explaining this it sounds really stupid and silly but I-"

Her hands had wiggled free of his grip and were working feverishly through her hair, with the hem of her jacket, anything to keep her distracted. A smile touched his mouth as he first watched her, then gently trapped her hands in his own. "Elizabeth. Hey, look at me." She lifted her rueful gaze to his, her face still flushed with cold and embarrassment. "You being Sonny's sister doesn't change how I feel about you. Sonny gave me the birth certificate and I said I'd hang onto it. I wasn't trying to hide it, I just...wanted to give you some time to get used to the idea or until I had something more to offer you besides a slip of paper. Now just...talk to me. Tell me what's really bothering you."

"When Audrey and I talked we-we didn't fight," Elizabeth said softly after a moment of silence. Her eyes once again welled with tears. "She acted like nothing had changed. And I...I didn't say anything. I guess to her, nothing is different, but I...I don't know. I was hoping for...something. Some sign that she knows about me or has answers or can give..."

Her gaze had dropped once again to the wooden planks below their feet. Dipping his head, Jason caught her eye. "Give you what?"

"Somewhere to belong. Some...sense of who I am," she said, barely a whisper. The pit in his stomach tightened. On a sigh, his eyes drifted shut. Jason knew he didn't say all the things he should most of the time. Hell, his lack of communication skills had been part of their problem in the past, but he had thought-hoped-that he'd at least made it clear how important she was to him. How she fit so perfectly in his life.

"Elizabeth..." he began. Adrenaline surged through him, making his fingers tingle and become numb. Oh yeah, this was a rush. Just not exactly the kind he enjoyed. Turning slightly, he tightened his grip on her hand. I know I don't say...all the things I should. I'm not good at it...words or making you feel important."

Elizabeth frowned. "Jason, that's not what I-"

"No, just let me-let me say this," he swallowed thickly, trying to draw a full breath around his heart in his throat. "I don't have any of the answers you're looking for. About your past. But I know who you are. You belong...you fit right here with me. No birth certificate can change that. I will always be here for you. If that's what you want."

More tears welled in her eyes that Jason mistook for sorrow. Cursing his clumsy speech, he dropped her hand and pulled her into another embrace. When she didn't hesitate to lean into him and thread her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, the tightness in his chest loosened. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he whispered a fierce promise. "I will help you any way I can. Whatever you want, whatever you need I-"

Her lips, soft and warm against his despite the chill suddenly covered his own. She held him there, making no move to deepen the kiss. Soft palms covered his cheeks, cool fingers feathered over his temples. Briefly she pulled away, but before he could draw a breath, she returned.

"I love you," she sighed after finally breaking the contact. She didn't go far. Her breath brushed over his lips as she spoke. "And I know you love me. Don't ever think it's not enough, Jason."

"I don't," he frowned. Elizabeth was right. He was tired of this, too. All the walking on eggshells and questioning every gesture, every word. That wasn't them. Not the way they used to be.

"Okay. Then I promise to quit trying to protect you, if you promise to quit," she pressed another quick kiss to his lips and stroked his cheek. "Quit thinking you're not good enough for me."

But I'm not, he thought even as he felt his lips curve into a smile. He'd never be good enough for her. No one was. He could try though. Shifting her slight weight easily from the bench to his lap, he had to look up to meet her eye. "I can try."

"Promise?"

"I promise, he vowed, tightening his grip on her hips for emphasis. Unwavering, he held her gaze for a long moment. The rest of the world, dark and quiet as it was, faded even further into the background of Jasons conscious. With a gentle caress, he swept her hair behind her ear, lingering on her skin. His thumb swept her bottom lip and he felt her shiver. Her tongue swept out and grazed his thumb as she moistened the deep red flesh.

You wanna go back to the penthouse? he whispered softly.

Elizabeth nodded, turning her face into his palm. Yes. Take me home, Jason.

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty-Six


Throngs of Christmas shoppers bustled through all four levels of Wyndams. On level three at the moment, Elizabeth's feet ached and her temples throbbed-she was utterly exhausted. And having the time of her life. Christmas in Port Charles never failed to brighten her spirits. Yes, it was crazy and hectic and she still didn't have a clue as to what to get Jason, but something about the air, the way snow was always looming, warmed her in a way nothing else did.

"I'm telling you, Elizabeth. The key to shopping is building up your tolerance," Brenda quipped as she scanned the Nine West shoe display for something acceptable to her European influenced palate. "You have to get, like, shopping calluses."

Elizabeth chuckled as she draped her leather jacket on the nearest plush armchair and leaned against the back. "Shopping calluses?"

"Yes," Brenda nodded with authority and picked up a pair of square-toed, knee-high stiletto boots, appraising them carefully. "Stick with me and you'll never have to stifle another yawn in the lingerie section."

"You caught that?" Elizabeth smirked a little sheepishly.

"Not just that one," Brenda eyed her over the toe of a bright red slingback with brass studs around the sole. "You've been trying to hide it since we got to the second floor."

"I'm sorry," she offered. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I've been so tired. I promise I'm having fun."

"I'd blame Jason, but he's not even in town to keep you up at night," Her eyes fell to Elizabeth's empty hands. "And you've hardly bought anything!"

"Not all of us have hordes of cash from our illustrious modeling careers, Ms. Barrett," Elizabeth teased.

Brenda pursed her lips and moved on to the Manolo Blahnik evening shoes set up in an array of glitter and party favors in honor of New Year's Eve. "I've heard coffee importers are just as lucrative. Don't even try to tell me Jason didn't leave you a whole drawer of money plus at least two credit cards while he's away."

Elizabeth's hand strayed automatically to her purse. "Yeah, well..."

"Well what?"

"I'm not used to relying on anybody else for money," she shrugged. "I don't want to be this leech that just uses Jason for bank account."

"Oh my God," Brenda exclaimed, loud enough to draw disapproving looks from the two Wyndams associates busily arranging another table with what looked like Jimmy Choo latest designs.

"Brenda! Shh!" Elizabeth couldn't help the grin that touched her lips even as her cheeks grew warm at the unexpected attention.

"A leech? On what planet would Jason Morgan ever think you were a leech?" she continued, slightly more subdued, but still loud enough to entertain the entire shoe section. She pointed at Elizabeth with a leopard print Dolce & Gabbana metallic sandal. "That man would buy you the moon if you asked. Or these shoes."

"That's not-that's not the point," Elizabeth argued, stealing the shoe from Brenda's grasp. "I've never taken money from Jason and I don't want to start now when I'm currently unemployed."

"You're not unemployed, you're self-employed," Brenda frowned and crossed her arms. The bell sleeves of her white top hung gracefully at her sides. "You're painting for your first show."

"Oh God," Elizabeth as a wave of nausea swept over her for the third time that day. "Don't remind me."

"You're going to be fabulous," Brenda admonished with a wave of her hand, as if she was silly for doubting herself. "But even if you were sitting on your butt eating bon-bons every day watching Passions, Jason still wouldn't think you were a leech." The display of Valentino ballet shoes caught her eye and she added casually. "You're living with the guy. Hasn't the whole 'mine' and 'yours' concept lost some of its meaning anyway?"

Elizabeth swallowed and dropped her gaze to the high heeled sandal still clutched in her hand. Jason had left her enough money to buy a pair in every size and color if she wanted. If he came back from the island and found she'd bought out the entire shoe department at Wyndams, he wouldn't even bat an eye.

"Maybe when I sell a painting," she murmured, putting the sandal back on the display shelf. Brenda rolled her eyes, but let the subject drop.

"What are you getting Jason for Christmas?"

Elizabeth couldn't stifle her frustrated groan at the subject. Her perpetually queasy stomach did another somersault as she balefully studied the shoe display without seeing it. For a whole five minutes, she'd forgotten she still didn't have a present for Jason.

"Ooo, sounds like it's going well," Brenda drawled. Elizabeth looked up in time to catch her sympathetic smile. "I'm guessing you have no idea what to get him."

"Oh, I've thought of a million things I could get him," she shook her head. For weeks, she'd been wracking her brain, trying to come up with the perfect present. "Travel books, new motorcycle gloves. I even thought of doing a painting of Michael for him, but...none of them seem right."

"Sweetie, he's gonna love whatever you give him," Brenda assured her. "What does Jason like, what makes him happy? You should be able to figure something out from that, right?"

"Brenda, you know Jason. The stuff that makes him happy isn't stuff you can buy," Elizabeth traced the worn cuff of her leather jacket. After Jason had left the last time, she'd put the gift away. Looking at it had been too painful. Now, she wore it everywhere. It reminded her of the first Christmas she'd spent with him. The paper chains and the sad little tree that had been utterly perfect by the time they'd finished decorating it. She smiled. "He'd rather see a pine tree covered with snow in the woods than a tree in some room weighed down with ornaments and lights."

"What a Scrooge," Brenda sniffed in mock disdain. Elizabeth scoffed and took a half hearted swipe at her with the shoe that she had no problem dodging.

"Jason's not a Scrooge! The stuff he likes is just...well, it's what the holidays are supposed to be about, right? The spirit of the season, family-."

"Ooo, that's it!" Brenda clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling mischievously. Elizabeth didn't even have time to be wary before the former model continued. "You should give Jason a family for Christmas."

Elizabeth blinked, her mind stuck on the odd declaration and failing to make the obvious leap. "A family. How would I-"

"A baby. You and Jason should have a baby."

She laughed. It was a completely natural reaction to Brenda's insane suggestion, but inside her stomach rolled and her chest constricted. "A baby? Just like that. I should give him a- You're crazy, you know that?"

"Actually, no, that was a big misunderstanding," Brenda replied, features set in a mask of utter seriousness, but her eyes sparkled.

"You should get a second opinion," Elizabeth insisted while her friend started to giggle. "I can't just give Jason a..."

"A baby," Brenda whispered. Elizabeth felt laughter bubble in her own chest despite the gnawing pit in her stomach. Her friend was joking. Obviously. And yet, the very idea of being pregnant, of carrying Jason's child filled her with a combined sense of elation and dread.

"Brenda!" Elizabeth hissed as the other woman continued the chant. "Will you stop!"

"Alright, alright," the former model pursed her lips to contain her laughter. Sliding her arm through Elizabeth's, she began to steer her away from the shoe section, barely giving her enough time to grab her jacket from the chair. "Wouldn't it be great though?"

"A-a baby?" Elizabeth's mouth was suddenly dry and she swallowed. Unconsciously, she tightened her grip on Brenda's arm. "I...I don't know."

Brenda stopped suddenly and faced Elizabeth. Sincerity replaced the humor that had been illuminating her eyes. "I'm kidding. You know that, right?"

Heat stung her cheeks and Elizabeth knew she was blushing. Leave it to her to not be able to keep up with Brenda's humor. She really needed to start sleeping more. "Of course I do."

"Because you've got that 'deer caught in the headlights' thing going on and I didn't mean to freak you out," she promised.

Elizabeth sighed, feeling foolish. "I promise, I'm not freaked out. I'm just...I haven't been sleeping and I didn't expect to miss Jason this much. I mean, he'd leave for months at a time before and I...I'm fine."

"Okay then. How about we call it a day and go back to my place," Brenda suggested, linking her arm with Elizabeth's once again and propelling them both down the wide aisle between Wyndamm's shoes and petites sections. "We can order pizza and watch some movies and figure out what you can give Jason for Christmas."

"I think I've got an idea, actually," Elizabeth smiled to herself, recalling that first perfect Christmas they'd shared at her studio. Hopefully this year they'd be able to skip the dramatics of a gunshot wound. The queasiness that Brenda's insistent talk of babies had aggravated diminished slightly, back to the slightly seasick sensation she'd gotten used to in the past few days. Ever since Jason and Sonny left for the island, she hadn't felt right. Even before that, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a good night's sleep. Briefly, she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Everything would be fine once Jason was back, safe and sound. Her life had to calm down eventually, didn't it?

"Are you still with me?"

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Elizabeth shook her head and focused on her friend.

"I was just wondering if Jason's Christmas present involved the color pink or blue," Brenda winked.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. The woman definitely needed a second opinion.

~*~


Jason closed the solid wooden door and the bells and whistles of slot machines and roulette wheels faded, but stubbornly lingered in the background. Sonny's office in the island's main casino was bigger and grander than the one he occupied in Port Charles. Plush cream carpet acted as a cushion under the thick soles of Jason's boots. No matter how many times he entered that office, he always had the nagging feeling he should wait just outside the door to avoid treading dirt all over the place.

The unease-residue from his time with the Quartermaines he supposed-only deepened the scowl already marring his features. Day number three had come and nearly gone on the island and they were no closer to finding out what the hell was going on with the casinos. Shipments of supplies had been waylaid and lost en route, causing menu changes and other minor annoyances that he really couldn't care less about. The guests still ate, didn't they? The three deposits of casino takings that had mysteriously disappeared were more disconcerting, but no matter how closely he examined the paperwork, the trail was ice cold here on the island. Benny would be able to find more in Port Charles, closer to all their records. Jason hated wasting time. With Elizabeth on the mainland alone and Courtney still on the loose, he hated this particular waste of time even more.

Silence blanketed the office. Sonny sat at his desk, intently studying a folder Jason was willing to bet contained nothing of any value. Hell, he was in the right place for it. Maybe he could go place a couple bets on how long it would take his partner to figure out how pointless this all was. For a few lengthy seconds, he waited for the other man to acknowledge his presence. He sighed. He cleared his throat. Nothing. In exasperation, he stalked to the front of the desk and rested his fists on the polished surface. "Sonny."

The mobster looked up, startled by the figure looming over him. "Jason. What did you-"

"Nothing, man. Not a thing," he declared, pushing himself forcefully away from the desk and pacing between the ostentatious leather office furniture. "Three days and I've found nothing."

"You're tired," Sonny nodded, needlessly stating the obvious.

"Yeah, I'm tired," Jason agreed, slouching gratefully onto one of the chairs and scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm tired of wasting time down here trying to find something that isn't there."

"Supplies aren't getting through. Money has been disappearing," Sonny ticked off the red flags that had prompted this trip south on his fingers. "And more than just the usual business losses. I can't just ignore it and hope it will go away. That's not how this works."

Jason's temper flared at the patronizing tone, but he continued to recline in the chair, his gaze focused on the blur of blades as the fan turned silently. "I know how things work, Sonny. You forget I ran this once by myself?"

Silence. "No. I didn't."

"What are we doing here? What do you think we're going to find?"

"There's got to be an explanation-"

"Yeah, I agree," he interrupted, tilting his head to meet the other man's gaze. "But I don't think the answer is down here. Do you?"

Another silence. This one punctuated by the abnormally high pitched bell that signalled a jackpot being hit on one of the nickel slots outside the door. The constant noise always gave Jason a headache which is why he so rarely dealt with casino business. It was crowded and garish-a completely different world of which he had no desire to play a part. Sonny, on the other hand, hadn't left the main hotel since they arrived, immersing himself in the lights and sound. A piece suddenly clicked into place and Jason sat up a little straighter. A man seeking a distraction would feel very comfortable in this environment. Eyes narrowed at his friend, he repeated his question. "Sonny. Do you?"

With a sigh the other man tossed the sheaf of papers to the desk and pressed his thumbs against his eyelids. His muttered answer was barely audible. "No, I don't."

"Then what the hell are we doing here, man? The mix ups with the supplies and the missing money are annoying, but that's it."

"Someone needs to...we need to keep a tighter reign on the business," Sonny protested feebly. Jason sighed and closed his eyes. Of all the times for his boss to decide he needed to be more involved, he had to pick right now. More pieces slipped into place and he felt like a fool for not picking up on it sooner. Carly was making his life-all of their lives-hell, with her custody demands and refusal of draft after draft of the divorce papers. Brenda's constant presence in Elizabeth and his lives wasn't making it any easier. Sonny was making a valiant effort to break his own mold and not immediately get back together with his former fiance, but the strain of having her around-of having her back but not even really speaking to her-was taking it's toll.

Then there was Elizabeth herself. Sonny walked on eggshells around her even now. Her past was a big question mark hanging over his head and Jason knew he loathed the lack of answers he could offer to his newly discovered sister.

"Look," he began again, trying a different, calmer tactic. "I get that Port Charles sucks for you right now. And if you want to...focus on things down here for awhile, that's fine. I'll take care of everything else. It's been pretty quiet up there and Elizabeth is spending a lot of time painting, so if I have to be gone a little more..."

"How's-how's Elizabeth doing? With the painting," Sonny's eyes lit up slightly and he leaned forward in his chair, latching on to the subject of his sister like a thirsty man craving water.

The corners of Jason's mouth curved sligthly and he shook his head. "I don't know man, I've been stuck down here."

The light died as quickly as it flared and Sonny leaned back in the chair and turned, gazing out the huge picture window overlooking the waterfront. The early afternoon sky was clear and blue. When the sun set later that day the view would be breathtaking. Normally, Jason enjoyed watching the sunsets on the island, but at the moment the only view he gave a damn about was back in Port Charles.

"This is all a front for something else. It's a distraction we need to stop so that we don't miss it when whoever is playing with us raises the stakes," the mobster finally said, keeping his gaze firmly planted on palm trees dotting the waterfront. Jason clenched his jaw, hoping a 'but' was coming to the sentence and he wouldn't have to start this conversation all over again. Not that he disagreed. Whoever was behind the supply mix-ups and delays and the money shortages was trying to distract them. It was an obvious ploy. Something to drag them away from Port Charles where the real potential for trouble waited. And yet here he sat. In freaking paradise, playing right into...someone's hands.

"But we've already spent enough time down here," Sonny continued, much to Jason's relief. "After the meeting tomorrow morning we'll get the hell out of here. We'll go...back."

"You don't have to," Jason offered. "I don't mind handling things on my own-"

"I've let you handle things on your own for too long," Sonny shook his head and swiveled back to look Jason in the eye. "You're damn good at running this whole operation, but it's my job. If I had been paying closer attention, maybe we wouldn't be sitting here right now wondering who had it out for us...maybe the mess with Courtney could have been avoided."

Old regret gnawed a hole in Jason's gut. "We've been through this, Sonny. Courtney was not your fault-"

"I should have known!" he thundered, slamming his palm on the desk top for emphasis. "I should have, should have pegged her as the con she is from the first moment I saw her. I never should have allowed Alexis to sway my judgement. I knew something was wrong then and I ignored it. It nearly cost Elizabeth her life. Now, I'm got that same feeling. Something is going on and I'm going to figure out what it is."

"I understand," Jason nodded, the vast distance separating him from Elizabeth causing a wave of anxiety and making it hard to breathe.

"This isn't just about hiding from my life, Jason," Sonny said quietly. "It's about making sure me and everybody else I love has a life at all."

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty-Seven


Elizabeth lay wide awake on the neatly made guest bed at Brenda's cottage. Idly, she glanced around the cozy room. The decorations weren't bad. Tasteful, with a flair of the European world her new friend had been immersed in for much of the past few years. A clock that might be an antique or just a really good reproduction ticked away the seconds, growing louder as time stretched on. Elizabeth's heartbeat started to echo the steady pulse and she squeezed her eyes shut against the mounting cacophony. Surging upright in an attempt to escape, the ever present nausea reared its ugly head and she wrapped her arms tight around her abdomen.

"You silly, silly girl," she muttered when the wave of sickness passed. Pressing a clammy hand to her forehead, she didn't have to wonder anymore if she had the flu or wasn't sleeping enough. Insomnia was definitely a problem and Brenda-without even knowing it-had been right.

She was pregnant.

Swallowing thickly, Elizabeth eased herself up on the bed, relaxing against the pillows. Expelling a shuddery breath, she lowered her gaze to her still very flat stomach. Okay, so she hadn't taken a test and she wasn't late enough to worry, but...she knew. Probably should have picked up on it sooner. Hesitating, she lightly placed a hand on her abdomen. She was a Webber, for pete's sake. Most of her childhood had revolved around hospitals and even with no formal training, she'd soaked up enough medical knowledge to understand that, well, a woman just knew. Once Brenda had hit her over the head with the obvious, of course. Her cheeks flushed pink at the vehement denials she'd thrown around that afternoon. When Brenda found out, a world class 'I told you so' was surely on her horizon. The woman didn't seem to be the type to let something go. Especially when she'd been so monumentally right.

"Oh God," she whispered, closing her eyes as twin tears coursed down her cheeks. This time, the twisting in her gut was good, old fashioned fear. Immediately, her thoughts went to Jason, wanting him next to her so she could curl up against him and just hide. With him, she could drop the strong, independent woman routine that so often felt like a transparent facade and just be the scared little girl she was.

But how could Jason fix this? How would he even react to this? Breathing shallowly through her nose, she rolled onto her side and tucked her knees up to her chest. Of course, there was the obvious answer. He'd be thrilled. Elizabeth had never forgotten the haunted look on his face the day she'd stumbled upon him on the docks, clutching Michael's little yellow cap in his hands. No man should have to look that lost, especially not Jason. No matter how much he loved her-and she believed he loved her a lot-there was a hole in his heart that she could never fill. That place was reserved for the child he desperately hoped to have-no matter how adamantly he claimed to never think about the future.

What if he wasn't thrilled, though? What if he thought the timing was bad or there was too much going on? This child might seem an incredible burden to him. He'd distanced himself from Elizabeth once because he didn't want the violence to touch her. As the mother of his child, she was now an even bigger target to his enemies. What would he do? Send her to the island for the next nine months to keep her safe? Protected and completely isolated from everything she loved and needed. Panic seized her. She'd be alone on the island, surrounded by guards and impersonal faces with nothing to do all day but imagine all the horrible ways Jason could be killed before he ever got to see his son or daughter.

Her already erratic breathing took a turn to hyperventilation and more tears dampened the pillow beneath her cheek. Eagerly, she reached for the shreds of hope and happiness that warmed her heart. A baby, a family with Jason was a dream she hadn't even known she'd wanted. When she pictured forever, Jason was always there, had been for years, but the sudden realization of that reality had seemed far off in the distant future. Jason would make an amazing father. Those threads of emotion elusively evaded her grasp and her mind kept returning to the dark fear that overwhelmed her.

How could she be a mother? How could she provide a family for a new little baby when everything she'd come to depend on had been a lie. She wasn't really a Webber. Even if Sonny couldn't explain it or give her the answers she desperately needed, she didn't doubt the birth certificate. If anything, the yellowed piece of paper gave her something tangible to count on, but it wasn't enough. Not for her and certainly not for her child.

No, she shook her head against the comforter and clenched her fists, she was in no position to be a mother. She'd probably set a record for speed in ruining her child's life.

Angrily, she pushed herself off the bed and stumbled to the door. The stairway and hall to the kitchen was a blur as tears continued to fall. Fumbling blind, Elizabeth started opening cabinets. God, she wanted Jason. But even as she ached for him, the thought of seeing him terrified her.

Snatching a heavy glass tumbler from a low shelf, she let the cabinet door slam shut. The sound echoed in the quiet cottage, but she barely noticed. A fog surrounding her, trapping her behind a tangible wall of panic where the rational part of her mind couldn't get to her. With a trembling hand she twisted the tap to fill the glass with water.

"Elizabeth?"

The glass fell from her hand and shattered in the sink as she whirled to face the kitchen entryway. A bleary-eyed, but very much awake Brenda had already surged forward at the destructive noise. "Oh my God, are you all right?"

"I-," Elizabeth choked, her voice thick with tears. Still startled, her gaze swept from Brenda to the shards of glass in the sink. Mortification burned through her like fire. "Oh Brenda, I'm so sorry, I-It slipped and I wanted some water. I didn't mean t-to wake you up."

"Hey, hey, stop. Just stop," Brenda admonished gently, grabbing Elizabeth's wrists before she could recklessly plunge her hands into the deadly mess in the sink. With a firm pull, she steered the two of them toward the living room. "It's just a glass, honey, nothing to cry over."

Elizabeth allowed the other woman to push her to the couch, immediately drawing her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms around her shins. Closing her eyes, she dropped her chin. Add embarrassment to the list of emotions waging a war for dominance within her.

After several seconds of silence she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Are you okay?" Brenda demanded, ignoring the apology. The couch beside her shifted, but Elizabeth didn't look up. "Those tears aren't over some stupid glass are they? Because I didn't even like them. Jax picked them out, no surprise there."

A smile teased the corner of Elizabeth's mouth and she lifted her head slightly, peering at her friend through eyelashes clumped with tears. "No," she said quietly. "No, I wasn't really crying over the glass. Not to begin with."

"What's wrong?"

Apparently, she wasn't done crying because a few more tears slid down her cheeks. Slowly, she swept them away. The fireplace loomed over Brenda's shoulder and Elizabeth stared at the place where the flames should be. "I was just...thinking about this afternoon...about your suggestion for Jason's Christmas present."

Brenda blinked and almost immediately her face fell. "Oh, don't tell me I put you on some biological clock freak out. I was kidding about the whole thing, really. You and Jason don't need to be in any hurry to have kids. You don't even have to have kids if you don't want-"

"You were right."

"What?" Brenda stopped and stared, her mouth slightly agape.

"I'm pregnant," Elizabeth whispered softly, for the first time out loud. The words lingered in the air for a moment as Brenda blinked several times, her eyes widening as the news penetrated.

"You're-"

"Pregnant," she repeated and cleared her throat. "You were right."

"I...oh my God," Brenda breathed in awe. The shock didn't last long and she leapt from the couch. "Why didn't you tell me? I can't believe you let me go on and on like that this afternoon. I must have sounded like such an idiot. Does Jason know? Well, of course he knows. I-"

"Jason doesn't know," Elizabeth murmured, still hugging her knees to her chest. Once again her friend stopped cold.

"He doesn't?"

"I haven't even taken a test, but...but I know," she explained, brushing away another tear. She felt sick and the pregnancy wasn't to blame. Brenda sunk once again to the cushion beside her, this time taking her hand. Elizabeth swallowed. "We've been, we were always careful...except once. But that's all it takes, right? I don't know what to tell Jason or how to tell him. I don't know what he's going to say."

"You think he won't be happy?" Brenda asked gently, leaning closer and brushing Elizabeth's auburn locks out of her face.

Tears stole her voice for a moment. "I don't-I don't know," she choked. "He loved being a father to Michael, but I...there's just so much going on and I'm already...he worries so much about me."

"He loves you," she reminded with a small smile. "He's allowed to worry."

"My life is so messed up," Elizabeth sniffed. "I have no business ruining someone elses."

"Elizabeth, stop it," Brenda chided, tightening her grip on her hand. "You're not going to ruin anything."

"But-"

"No, listen," the other woman demanded, her brown eyes wide and earnest even in the moonlight that filtered through the bay windows. "It's okay to be scared. Hell, I'd be terrified. But you don't have to do this alone. You have me and Sonny and I promise we'll help you.

"But even if we couldn't," she continued. "You have Jason. He's...he's going to be thrilled."

Elizabeth lifted a skeptical eyebrow that Brenda matched. "Don't argue with me, honey. Despite my best efforts I know Jason pretty well and starting a family with you is going to make his decade."

With a sigh, Elizabeth dropped her forehead to her knees. She wanted to be sure. Brenda's conviction was almost contagious. When she momentarily put aside her fear, Elizabeth couldn't think of a single legitimate reason why Jason wouldn't be happy.

Drawing a deep breath, she lifted her head and met Brenda's gaze. "I really hope...that you're right."

"Oh, I think we've established that I'm always right," her friend laughed, a mixture of obvious relief and the beginnings of what Elizabeth knew would be an overwhelming baby mania. Her friend was already more excited than she was. Wiping away the last of her tears she tried to ignore the remaining anxiety licking at her heart.

"Thank you, Brenda."

"Hey, what are friends for if not pointing out the obvious and using their incredibly strong women's intuition," Brenda waved a hand through the air grandly and relaxed against the cushions. "Do you want me to be there when you tell Jason? You know, for moral support."

For a moment, Elizabeth seriously considered it, if only to make sure she didn't chicken out at the last second. Jason might end up being out of the loop for weeks. The last thing he'd want, though, is to have his life laid open like a book for Brenda to read. Even if they were friends now. Eventually, she shook her head. "No, no, this is something I have to do myself."

"You'll be fine," she encouraged with a grin. "You'll be amazing."

Elizabeth returned the smile and nodded in agreement, wishing desperately that she truly believed it.

~*~


Courtney wrapped the threadbare white towel snuggly around her torso and stepped out of the shower stall. The bathroom connected to her cell wasn't half bad. Nothing fancy. No shiny brass fixtures and soft lighting, but considering the mess she'd gotten herself into, things could have been much worse.

Her wet hair dripped down her back to the carpeted floor, leaving dark spots as she padded to her bed and the clothes she'd left lying out. With a nervous glance, she scanned every corner of the room for the surveillance she knew had to be there. A man like Sammy Tagliatti wouldn't just leave her locked in a room. That wouldn't be thorough enough. The man was meticulous.

As usual, she never caught sight of a camera or even a stray wire. In a controlled frenzy she tugged on her clothes, hating the way her jeans and t-shirt stuck to her wet limbs.

She'd just pulled the shirt over her head when she heard the click of the door. A small scream escaped her lips as she whirled around in surprise.

"Don't you ever knock?" she demanded breathlessly.

Tagliatti raised an eyebrow and nudged the door shut behind him with his foot. "You've got nothing I haven't seen nor have any interest in."

Stung, she blinked. "Well, you sure know how to sweetalk a girl."

"You hardly qualify," he drawled dismissively. Tears of indignation stung at Courtney's eyes. She'd been enough for two Quartermaines, hadn't she?

"What do you want?" she demanded in a dull voice, snatching the discarded towel from the bed and blotting water from the ends of her hair. Frowning at the ragged ends she longed for a salon.

"I've got another job for you," he replied, casually sitting on the old couch. The entire room seemed to fade under his scrutinizing eye. As if the furniture knew it was lacking and should be embarrassed of it's very existence.

"I don't know what more I can possibly do," she argued in an uncharacteristic display of bravado. "I don't have access to anything but the shipping schedules and casino runs."

"You have access to the warehouse. That's enough for me," Sammy replied glibly.

When was this nightmare going to end? With a huff of frustration, she sank to the foot of the bed and held her face in her hands. A few months ago, Courtney had been sitting pretty on the biggest scam of her life. It had been going well. Maybe she should have known then it would all blow up in her face. Winning Sonny's trust had been too easy. Nothing in life ever came easy. And her heart had been broken in the process.

"What do you want me to do?" she whispered, ordering herself not to cry.

Her question was met with silence and she had to look up to see Tagliatti's ruthless smile.

"You're going to leave a surprise for Mr. Morgan and Mr. Corinthos."

"When?"

"Tonight," he replied, the Cheshire grin growing with every syllable. "If my sources can be believed, they'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Early."

"What is it?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. The gleam in Tagliatti's eyes scared her.

"Oh, nothing you need to worry about. You're just the courier," Tagliatti shrugged and rose from the couch, his long legs unfolding gracefully. Apparently their meeting was over. Courtney wasn't sorry to see him go. With every day that passed her captor frightened her more and more.

At the doorway he paused and she lifted her gaze from the worn carpet. The grin had depleted to a smirk, but it was no less menacing. "I think they'll get a bang out of it."

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty-Eight


"We should be landing in 90 minutes," Sonny announced, unbuttoning his beige suit jacket and relaxing in the luxury leather love seat on the other side of the private jet. Jason glanced up briefly, just long enough to see his friend undo the top button of his crisp white shirt, then returned his attention to his clasped hands. The heavy silence Sonny had entered fell on the cabin once again.

Tapping his fingers rapidly against the leather armrest, his gaze wandered idly over the fully stocked bar to the satellite television that wasn't on to the closed door leading to the cockpit. The room was small. Opulent, but small. The breath he'd just pulled in lodged for a moment in his lungs, frozen as claustrophobia threatened to drag him down.

Abruptly, he shifted, cleared his throat, searching for a distraction. "What's on your mind?"

"What?" Jason lifted his head again, blinking in surprise at the sudden break in the solitude.

"You're quiet. What's up?"

For a long second, the enforcer held his gaze, eyes narrowed and slightly suspicious. Finally, he stretched his legs out and leaned back against the cushioned seat. "There's nothing...up."

Sonny nodded and glanced at the rear of the plane. "Right."

For the first time, Jason noticed the tense set of the other man's shoulders. The pinched corners of his mouth and tightly clenched fists. Eyeing the enclosed space warily, he sighed.

"Can I ask you something?"

Immediately, Sonny zeroed in on Jason, focusing all his attention and intensity on the younger man. "Yeah."

"Do you...regret marrying Carly?" he held back the grimace of distaste. Admittedly, he'd been thinking it all weekend as his friend threw himself mercilessly into his work with the casino. He'd even been tempted-in moments of extreme impatience with the busy work-to call Sonny on it, but he'd always checked himself. Now here he was, on a plane 35,000 feet above solid ground for another hour and a half, asking about Carly, with no means of escape. Great.

Sonny hadn't even blinked since he asked the question and the weight of his stare was tangible. Finally, slowly, he dragged a hand over his jaw, gaze falling to the floor. "I...which time?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "Any of them?"

Expelling a breath, he shrugged. "I don't know. With everything that's happened I guess...If I knew last summer how things were going to turn out-if I had known that-I wouldn't have gone through with the wedding, no."

If he had known Brenda was alive... The unspoken sentiment hung over the small cabin. Would he have ever married Carly, had he known the truth?

Not that it mattered, Jason dismissed the abstract 'what if'. What happened, happened and no amount of dissecting it could change that. Meticulously studying every aspect of the past couldn't alter the outcome and yet...he couldn't help it. Where he once acted on impulse, Jason found himself weighing his options. Would this move get him killed? If he ignored this threat, would it come back to haunt him and Elizabeth? How much of the business did she need to know about? How much did she deserve to know?

"Why do you ask?" Sonny inquired, interrupting his train of thought.

Jason hesitated. They why was pretty clear in his mind. Whether or not he wanted to discuss it with Sonny was a different story. So, he switched gears. "Do you think Carly was cut out for this life?"

Sonny frowned, but answered immediately. "The life, yes. Mine, no. With the right man, I think Carly can handle anything."

"Why not you?"

"Because I...because I can't give her what she wants," he shrugged, but the gesture was far from casual. Mountains had moved with more ease. "We're too much alike. Too demanding and unwilling to bend." When Jason's only response was an introspective nod, Sonny leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "What's with the questions?"

Jason met his gaze and purposely dodged the question. "You're the one who asked me what was on my mind."

"My failed marriage to Carly is the only thing you can think about?" he raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Not...necessarily your marriage," he replied carefully. His gaze dropped to the plush carpeted floor of the cabin, studying it until the individual fibers stood out in stark relief. He'd always assumed marriage, happily ever after, forever, just wasn't in the cards for him. Being with Elizabeth had changed that. Without even trying, thoughts of a future entered his conscious mind and lingered, teasing him with what could be. Even if Sonny and Carly's lives had fallen apart, the good moments he witnessed-and there were good moments-wouldn't leave him alone.

And then there was his almost proposal the night Elizabeth had dragged him out of the warehouse, bleeding and fading in and out of consciousness. Jason hadn't forgotten and he hadn't lied. Promises were made to be broken, but she made him want to vow forever.

With a deep breath, he lifted his gaze to find Sonny still staring at him intently, a knowing glint hidden behind open curiosity.

"What are you trying to say?" he asked quietly.

"I just..." Jason scowled and ran a hand through his spiky hair. Dammit, why did she have to be his sister? Two months ago, this conversation would have been so different. Not only for Sonny, but for him. He scoffed at traditions and rules and yet, asking for permission seemed mandatory. Asking Elizabeth to marry him without some sort of blessing from her family carried the stain of disrespect.

Not that he'd care if Sonny said no, of course.

"Spit it out, man," his friend insisted.

"I want to know what I'm getting into. I want to know what I'd be getting Elizabeth into," he said in a rush.

Sonny's jaw tightened, but he considered the statement. "You think, maybe, you and Elizabeth could fall apart like Carly and I?"

"Elizabeth is nothing like Carly."

"No. She's not," he quickly agreed. "But what my life did to her is the same thing yours would do to Elizabeth."

"I know," Jason replied softly, the words painful even to utter. He could try to ignore the facts, but he knew Sonny was right. She was all...wrong for the world he lived in. Or the world he lived in was wrong for her. She could deal with it and would. More than once she'd proven that, but why should she have to?

The answer came to him, not so much from himself, but from Elizabeth. She wanted to be in his life. She wanted him. Loved him. In words and gestures both blunt and subtle she'd let him know where she stood so many times he'd lost count. And he'd promised to quit thinking he didn't deserve her.

"Are you, ah, trying to tell me something here, Jason?" Sonny asked.

The corners of Jason's mouth curved in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. The temperature in the private jet seemed to escalate several degrees and Jason's pulse quickened. "I think you already know."

"Well, I want to hear you say it," Sonny challenged, matching Jason's grin with one of his own, while the hard glint never left his obsidian eyes.

"The night I got knocked out at the warehouse...I told Elizabeth I wanted to marry her," he admitted quietly, the smile fading into introspection. "I don't think she believes I meant it."

"Did you?"

Jason narrowed his eyes. "Of course. Otherwise I wouldn't have said it."

"I know, I know," Sonny murmured and leaned back in the chair. One hand covered his mouth, his eyes were downcast, making it impossible for Jason to gage his reaction. The older man crossed his ankle over his knee and slowly, his gaze lifted back to his friend. "So...are you going to do it?"

"Ask her to marry me?"

"Yes."

"You okay with that?" Jason asked evenly while his heart raced. He wanted Sonny to accept it, not so much for himself, but for Elizabeth's sake. With everything going on, the last thing she needed was a further rift between her and her brother.

Sonny laughed, making him blink in surprise. "You'd do it anyway, man. Even if I said no."

Jason nodded and smiled briefly. "Yeah, I would. But I respect you too much not to ask. And I don't want...my relationship with Elizabeth to hurt her relationship with her family."

The easy way he referred to Sonny as Elizabeth's family surprised both of them. The mob boss blew out a tight breath and licked his lips. "I think relationship is...a bit, ah, generous."

"Give her time, man," he offered. Sonny stared blankly into the space between them for a moment. Jason wasn't sure he'd even heard him until the other man nodded. Abruptly, he rose from his seat and quietly went to inquire about their progress with the pilot. A shaky burst of air slowly escaped from his lungs as he realized he'd been holding breath. Not exactly the time or the place Jason had expected to announce his plans for a future with Elizabeth, but he was strangely relieved Sonny had pressed him to talk. He'd admitted it, what he wanted-what he hoped for-and lived to tell the tale.

The brief conversation between his friend and the pilot ended and Sonny returned to the cabin. He didn't look at him as he poured brandy into a heavy crystal glass-completely impractical for the plane-and stared out a thick window to the bright blue horizon. Jason recognized the stance, the tension and the loneliness radiating from the man who'd been his mentor and best friend for the majority of his whole life.

It was like looking into a mirror, except one that reflected Jason's past rather than his present. The tables had been turned. The man who once had everything had lost what was most important while the loner with nothing to lose had everything he'd ever wanted at his fingertips.

Jason swallowed and looked away, but the image followed him, etched into his mind's eye with perfect recall. A pointed sense of dread enveloped him and he closed his eyes. He needed to get back to Elizabeth. Something was going to happen.

Jason could feel it.

~*~


Brenda idly paced back and forth in front of the large safety glass window that stood between her and a nursery full of tiny newborns. Every few seconds she'd stop and star at the pink and blue wrapped bundles. Some sleeping, some kicking their feet to the ceiling, and one fussing stubbornly as a nurse tried to gently calm it down. Her heart beat a little faster as her thoughts drifted to Elizabeth. In nine short little months one of those could belong to Jason and Elizabeth. They'd be parents. Brenda sucked in an awed breath.

God, she was jealous.

Oh, she'd be a horrible parent. She accepted this and knew it for fact as easily as she'd once believed Luis Alcazars claims that her illness required the slew of debilitating drugs he'd pumped her full of. The difference between that lie and this truth was that deep down in her soul, Brenda believed it.

People like her weren't meant to be mothers. She was too selfish, too prone to dramatics and upheaval. Hell, her last serious relationship had been with a sadistic drug lord and her dreams were currently being invaded by a mafia kingpin with a killer set of dimples and equally killer set of morals. She rolled her eyes and tore her gaze away from the nursery. Perfect parenting combination right there.

Still, despite her conviction of her own ineptitude, she wanted to be a mother. She felt that biological, nurturing gene tug at her heart whenever she saw a mother and child in the park, at Kelly's, or out shopping. Babies 'R' Us was quickly becoming her second favorite store at the mall-nothing would ever top Saks-and she had a feeling that if Elizabeth was pregnant, she'd be buying out the entire store for the child she planned on doting over.

Her gaze wandered back to the window and she turned in midpace and drew closer to the safety glass. Chocolate brown eyes scanning the cribs, she got lost in the pink and the blue. Girl or boy, she wondered. What would Jason's first born child be? If fate had any sense of humor it would be a girl. She smiled. Two women having Jason Morgan wrapped around their little fingers? Oh, that was just too priceless.

Brenda's mirth faltered slightly and she bit her lip. Elizabeth had been in with the OB/GYN-Dr. Meadows or something like that-for nearly an hour. A stab of anxiety propelled her away from the nursery window and toward the hall leading to the doctor's office. What if something was wrong? Elizabeth hadn't slept much the night before, worry keeping her wide awake. Not that Brenda had closed her eyes for more than a few minutes at a time.

How would she feel if she found herself unexpectedly pregnant? Well, that depended on the father, partly, she supposed. If it was Sonny's...

"Wow, where did that come from?" she murmured aloud, her eyes widening. But her mind continued down the perilous path that always led to her former lover. Once upon a time, she would have been overjoyed to carry Sonny's child. Now, she'd be happy just to know where the hell she stood with the man.

The door to Dr. Meadows office opened just down the hall and Brenda waited in an uncharacteristic show of patience as Elizabeth and the older woman exchanged a few last words.

"I want to see you in again in a couple of weeks," Dr. Meadows was saying, placing a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder and walking with her out into the hallway. Neither woman noticed Brenda.

"But everything's okay, right?" Elizabeth asked anxiously.

"Everything is fine," she assured her with a genuine smile. "Just take care of yourself and don't push yourself too hard. If what your grandmother says is true, you spend too much time worrying about everybody around you and ignoring your own health."

"My grandmother, right," Elizabeth echoed faintly.

"You've got a baby to think about now," the doctor continued firmly. "And you'll be just fine. See you soon."

"Soon," she nodded and turned slowly, walking in a daze down the hallway toward Brenda, not even noticing her until she nearly ran headlong into her. "Oh my god, Brenda...you surprised me."

"No kidding," she chuckled. Folding her arms, she tried in vain to suppress the knowing smile tugging at her lips. Crossing her arms to contain her excitement, she cocked her head. "So? What's the verdict?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant. Its official, I guess. Five weeks, from what Dr. Meadows could tell."

"And this is...is this going to be a good thing?" she put her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder in a gesture of support and bit her lip again anxiously.

"I...I don't know how I'm going to tell Jason, but..." she lifted thick, black lashes and even though her eyes were sparkling with tears, her mouth curved upward in a small smile. "Yeah, I think it's going to be a good thing."

"Ha!" Brenda exclaimed, pulling her friend into a hug. "I knew it! I knew you'd-"

"Come around?" she offered dryly, returning the embrace easily, before pulling away to brush tears from her cheeks.

"Well, yeah," she laughed. "You're baby is going to have a wonderful mother."

"I don't know about that," Elizabeth shook her head and her gaze drifted past Brenda's shoulder to the clearly visible nursery. Absently, she brought her hand to her flat stomach. The smile faltered and became wistful. "But he...or she will have the best father in the world."

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter Twenty-Nine


So, which one? Pink or blue?

Elizabeth paused, her fingers curled around the silk trim of a gorgeous pastel quilt and cast an apprehensive glance at her friend. Brenda was studying cribs along the back wall of Wyndams third floor infant section, shifting between two different designs painted equally pale shades of pink and blue.

How about yellow?

What? Why yellow? Brenda turned on her heel and made a face that left no room for interpretation as to her opinions on the color. Turning again and scanning the various crib models and colors, she shook her head. They dont have yellow.

White, then, Elizabeth rolled her eyes and started digging through the stack of blankets, more for something to keep her occupied than in search of something particular.

What do you have against pink and blue? her friend demanded, relentless as always in her single minded pursuits.

Nothing, Elizabeth sighed. I have nothing against pink and blue, butBrenda, I dont know if Im-if the baby is a boy or girl.

Oh. Right, realization dawned on Brendas face and she turned once again to study the cribs. For almost a full minute, blessed silence allowed Elizabeth to continue her perusal of the collection of receiving blankets.

When will you know?

Oh my God, Brenda, Elizabeth sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead. I-I dont know. A few months? Maybe?

Months? her jaw dropped incredulously.

You do know its going to take nine for the baby to get here, right?

Brenda pursed her lips and folded her arms over her chest. Yes, I know that, Elizabeth. I may not know much, but I am aware that human beings carry a child for nine months.

Well, technically 40 weeks, but-.

Wait, weeks? Brenda held up a hand and came to stand next to Elizabeth by the blanket display. You just said months-.

A frown creased the younger womans face. Well, yeah, but-.

So which is it, months or weeks?

Helpless, she stammered, her cheeks coloring at the sudden interrogation and onslaught of bewildering questions. Brenda its-what do you meanIts months and weeks, I-.

Honey, Im kidding, she took Elizabeths hands and stilled her fingers-nervously twisting one of the blankets into knots. A sympathetic smile played on her lips. You need to relax. This is supposed to be fun and youre tying yourself-and the blanket-in knots. I thought, you know, agreeing to come shopping with me meant you were getting used to the idea.

Elizabeth sighed and looked around the department. I am getting used to the idea.

But Brenda supplied.

But, she nodded and continued. I still havent told Jason and until I do, its just not going to feel

Real?

Something like that, she agreed, wandering between the displays to a rack of tiny dresses. The time and attention to detail on each garment amazed her. All those ruffles and sequins and pretty bows on a dress that some little girl would be able to wear once before growing out of it. Elizabeth smiled and traced a finger over the tiny pearl buttons. That little girl would be in heaven.

Would it be Jasons little girl?

Biting her lip, she turned away from the dresses and focused her attention on a nearly overflowing table of stuffed animals. Relief washed over her. Stuffed animals were safe. They didnt come with gender specifications.

Brenda sidled up beside her and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Okay. How about we do something to lighten the mood here?

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, disappointed in herself for failing to see the pure joy of the situation. Like what?

Lets pretendwere shopping for my baby, she suggested.

What.

No, Im serious. Well pretend its mine and that will get rid of some of the pressure.

Youre insane, Elizabeth laughed and shook her head.

Stories of my mental illness have been greatly exaggerated, Brenda intoned seriously, then dissolved into giggles. Elizabeth took the opportunity to face the cribs once again.

So whos the father of your bundle of joy? she asked, eyeing a dark mahogany crib with her artists interpretation.

Im a busy woman, you think I had time to waste on a man? Brenda scoffed and began scouring Wyndams collection of changing stations. I went to the finest fertility clinic and studied stacks of potential donors for the best genetic match to my ownsuperior qualities.

How hi-tech, Elizabeth laughed.

Hmm, yes, she nodded gravely. I was torn between a French Duke directly descended from Louis the 16th and the Sultan of Brunei.

My, my. Im suitably impressed. Who did you pick?

In the end, I went with the obvious choice, she sighed as if the weight of her decision cost her many sleepless nights. Elizabeth was struggling to hold back her peals of laughter from disturbing the rest of the shoppers on their level.

And who was that? she gasped.

Brad Pitt, her friend retorted, as if the choice were the most obvious one in the world. Elizabeth gave up her attempts to maintain her composure and doubled over in a fit of hysterical giggles. Brenda quickly lost control of her schooled expression and joined her. Not even the stern glare of a passing sales associate put a damper on their spirits.

Two hours and countless purchases later, Elizabeth and Brenda staggered through the spotless, glass double doors and gratefully unloaded their packages on the waiting guard. Crawling into the backseat of the limo, Elizabeth felt the overwhelming urge to curl up and take a nap.

That was exhausting, she yawned. The thought of snuggling under the covers and sleeping until Jason came home was so appealing, it almost brought tears to her eyes. Shopping with you is an extreme sport.

Brenda smiled, closing her eyes and leaning into the soft, leather cushions of the spacious interior. So Ive been told. A moment of silence passed and then the car roared to life-although with the insulation of the precision-made automobile, it was more of a gentle hum. Feel better?

Elizabeth hesitated, waiting for the unsettling dread to pit in her stomach, but it never did. Either Im getting used to it, or Im just too tired to worry anymore.

Good, she said, obviously satisfied. Shopping champions all that ails us.

Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth relaxed further into the seat and watched the streets of Port Charles fly by. Wyndams wasnt that far from Harborview Towers. Briefly, she wondered where Brenda planned on being dropped off. Part of her hoped the brunette would stay with her at the penthouse until Jason returned. The distraction was useful. Keeping the foreboding thoughts of impending motherhood seemed to be Brendas strong suit.

Eyelids drooping, she nearly missed the hospital as they drove past, but the brick building with its neon signs forced through her sleepiness and she came fully awake.

Oh damn, she groaned, scrambling over to Brendas bench and rapping on the divider between her and the driver. The jostling woke her friend from her semi-slumber.

What-whats wrong?

Nothing. I just forgot to pick up some of those prenatal vitamins Dr. Meadows prescribed for me, she quickly explained. The partition slid down and Maxs voice carried into the formerly quiet cabin.

Yes, Miss Webber?

Elizabeth, she corrected automatically. Can you turn around and take us back to the hospital? I need to stop at the pharmacy.

No problem, the partition whirred shut and Elizabeth slumped against the seat next to Brenda. The two women regarded each other a moment before the former model lifted an arm and rapped on the paneling above her head.

To the hospital, Jeeves, she commanded to the nearly empty car. One shared look later and hysterical laughter sent them both to the floor.

~*~


The limo pulled into its designated spot next to the Corinthos/Morgan warehouses and Sonny immediately reached for the latch to escape. Business, not claustrophobia, had him fleeing the luxury confines of the automobile. Mentally, he ticked through a To Do list hed put together on the plane to keep himself sane. Meet with Benny to discuss what little hed gleaned from his time on the island, find a new lawyer to draw up custody papers, order a Christmas tree for his suite at the hotel

Jason was going to ask Elizabeth to marry him.

His sure step faltered slightly as he approached the warehouse door and the revelation about his sister and his best friend invaded his carefully controlled conscious. The same thought had been doing that for hours, popping up when he least expected or wanted. Hed managed a good half hour without stewing over the ramifications of what Jason had revealed. Sonny had wanted to believe hed gotten over the shock and fully accepted themarriage.

Damn, he muttered, coming to a complete stop as his agitation keyed up another level.

Sonny? Jason was close behind him. Something wrong?

No, he immediately frowned and shook his head, forcing himself to not only open the door to his office in the warehouse, but actually step over the threshold and cross to the desk. Jason hadnt asked his permission and he wouldnt, even if Sonny admitted the marriage made him uncomfortable. Nothings wrong, Im justtrying to decide my next move.

Jason sighed and began prowling the office like a restless animal. I dont know what to tell you. We didnt find out anything important on the island.

Theyre having the same kind of troubles were having here, Sonny disagreed.

So what? We dont know whats going on up here either.

You wanna have a seat? he asked, unable to keep the edge from his voice. Jason paused in his pacing and raised an eyebrow.

You want me to stay? he asked, mildly incredulous.

Sonny was about to say yes and demand that his partner focus on business. The signs may not be glowing neon and seen from miles away, but they were there. Someone was playing with them and the sooner they figured out who, the sooner theyd take care of it. This part of the planning was usually what Jason excelled at and now here he was trying to weasel out of it.

But they didnt have a target, Sonny admitted grudgingly. No target meant no plan, no action, and if he was really honest with himself, he couldnt say if he wanted to keep Jason occupied with business for business sake, or to keep him away from his sister.

Sonny? Do I need to stay? Jason repeated, folding his arms across his broad chest and meeting the older mans eye with an ease few others possessed.

No. No you dont, he quickly responded. With a shake of his head, he snatched a silver pen from the desk and twirled it absently through his fingers. Youre right. We dont have anything to go on. Benny will have to do some checking for us, first.

Jason narrowed his eyes. That all?

Once again, anger sparked Sonnys retort. Stay, go. Go, stay. I said you could go, so go. What the hell do you want me to say?

I dont know, the enforcer shrugged, unperturbed by the hostility in his friends retort. But Ive never seen you this worked up over supply problems.

Iknow, he sighed, scrubbing at his face. His skin felt too tight and a headache was beginning to build at the base of his skull. Too many things in his life were out of his control. Carly, Jason, Elizabeth, the nameless, faceless threat looming over his business. And then there was Brenda. The knot of anxiety tightened in his gut. He didnt even know where begin figuring her out. Just-just get out of here before I give you a good reason to shoot me or something.

Jason smirked, but he didnt have to be told twice. Sonny had to bite his tongue to refrain from asking his friend where he was headed. Elizabeth. And that was something he really didnt need to know about. Maybe if he kept reminding himself that until two months ago, he had no idea Elizabeth was his sister, the need to throttle any guy who looked at her-even his best friend-would ebb.

Alone in his office, he rifled absently through a few papers. Chaos. It was everywhere and he could feel a mounting panic rise up in his chest. The same kind of pressure that built when he was stuck in a confined space and claustrophobia set in.

In the outer office, he heard Jason talking to one of the guards. Sonny struggled to remember which one had been positioned at the door. The fact that he couldnt just increased his agitation. Rising abruptly from his desk, he went to open the closed door and let some air into the room before he suffocated.

He neednt have worried.

Just as Sonnys hand touched the doorknob a deafening roar ripped through his office. He was allowed only a split second of realization-someone had planted a bomb in his warehouse-before he was thrown from his feet. In the brief moment that followed, where the world went first red then black, he heard the startled cries of his men in the outer office.

Then everything was silent.

~*~


Elizabeth stared at the bottle of prenatal vitamins as she and Brenda maneuvered their way through the bustling doctors and nurses of General Hospital. Like everything else shed touched that day, the unassuming plastic bottle seemed brand new and foreign. Objects around her, everyday things were becoming before the baby or after the baby. The sensation was unsettling, but no longer terrifying. And she had eight more months to work on the unsettling part.

A huge weight would lift from her shoulders as soon as she finally told Jason. His acceptance of the pregnancy was no longer a concern. His capacity to love their baby would probably surpass her own, she mused. Well, hed just have to share the secrets of being a perfect parent with her.

Okay, whats going on? Brenda asked, pulling Elizabeth out of her thoughts. They were nearing the ER on the lower level. They had to walk past it to reach the parking garage where the limo was waiting. Nurses and doctors that had only minutes ago been moving in an efficient, but calm bustle were now scattering, barking orders into phones as rooms were being prepped.

I have no idea, she shrugged, but a feeling of foreboding was already building deep within her. Car accident?

Brenda pursed her lips in response. After two unsuccessful tries, she managed to snag the attention of a young nursing student, arms overloaded with IV bags. Hey, whats with all the traffic? What happened?

An explosion, the young woman replied breathlessly, pushing an errant strand of hair away from wide eyes.

Brenda grabbed Elizabeths arm. An explosion? Where? Was anybody hurt?

The nursing student was already rushing on. On the docks. Ive got to get these to Dr. Quartermaine.

Hey wait-, Brenda tried, but the controlled chaos of the ER mounted to a fever pitch and the two women were lost in the shuffle. Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to dispel the rising panic. The docks werent a playground. There had to be a dozen different businesses that had the potential for explosions or accidents. It didnt have to be the Corinthos-Morgan warehouse. And even if it was, Jason and Sonny probably werent even back yet. They were safe and sound-

Do you think? Brenda whispered, her chocolate brown eyes locking on Elizabeths, filled with the same fear and worry she imagined was in her own. She swallowed and placed a hand over her belly. The gesture was unconscious, the need to protect instinctual. Which was good, because Elizabeth only had one concrete thought in her mind.

Yeah, I do, she choked on the fear that reared up with that admission. Tears stung her eyes as she watched the double doors the EMTs would soon be running through. At least she hoped theyd be running, because if they werent

Its Jason and Sonny.