January 29, 2014

It seems so wrong that something so beautiful should be hidden. Whether it’s a blood-red tulip covered in a surprise snow storm in April or a beautiful memory of a friendship forgotten in grief.

My mother used to tell me a story about a woman she’d known in her own youth. She died at an early age, this woman. But she’d been my mother’s best friend and closer than a sister.

It pained my mother to speak of her, but I could never get enough of the story. I once found an old faded picture in an album. My father cautioned me never to show it my mother, for it would only serve to make her cry.

She was beautiful, with soft dark hair and porcelain skin. She stood in a garden, laughing with a younger version of my mother and a man I’d seen in other pictures. My mother’s brother, an uncle whom I’d never met.

The story my mother told was always the same, about how the woman had convinced my mother to tell the truth. My mother had breast cancer as a young woman and she’d been ready to die. Her friend had discovered the truth by accident and had convinced my mother to tell the truth. Eventually, she’d received treatment, thanks to her friend and she’d been able to marry my father.

I once begged my father to tell me the story about her death and why it made my mother sad to think about her. He’d been reluctant to tell me since the woman had been a good friend of his as well.

But he’d wanted me to know more about her and why she’d mattered so much. So he told me. The woman had found herself in a situation where she knew of a man who wanted to kill my mother’s brother. My father told me that the woman and my uncle had once been together, and that they loved each other despite their differences.

She went to my uncle to tell him of the threat, but he had his pride and he turned her away. She followed him and begged for him to believe her. He gave in and told her that she needed to leave, that she needed to be safe.

She agreed, only because she was frightened of the man who wanted to kill my uncle. He put her on a plane for a private island, and she told him that she loved him before she left.

The plane had been piloted by someone who worked for the man and he shot the woman just after the plane took off. My uncle was devastated and once the threat had been taken care of, he left town.

My father says my mother gets letters from him still. He says that he will never return home until he is ready to be buried beside the woman who’d lost her life for him.

My father and mother loved her dearly and still grieve for her now. Which is why I suppose they named me for her.

I often wonder why my mother does not speak of her more. One would think she’d be desperate to pass on her memory to the daughter she’d named her for. But the only words I hear of her are the one story and what I can beg from my father.

It seems so wrong that a woman such as her should be forgotten and lost in my mother’s memories. She was beautiful, both in body and in spirit. Why should her memory be hidden like the tulips in my great-grandmother’s garden during a snowstorm?

Perhaps I should seek out the uncle who loved her so deeply, that nearly twenty years after her death, he has yet to return to the place she once lived.

But if it pains my mother to speak of it, then I would think it would be twice as painful for him. Or maybe it would help to speak of her?

My father says that it is foolish. That my mother doesn’t talk about her because it hurts to remember what could have been. That she might have had a sister, and that they might have raised a family together. He warns me to leave my uncle alone, that his memories are not to be used to serve my curiosity.

And I’m left to wonder why Elizabeth Webber touched my family so deeply in the time they knew her and how she would have changed my life if she’d lived.

Rated NC-17

When Gia Campbell had suggested the game, Elizabeth had been slightly intoxicated. All right–she’d been smashed. Otherwise, she never would have agreed.

Well she might have–just not in front of her best friends.

Find a guy. Sleep with him. No names.

It couldn’t be that hard, right? Elizabeth had known a lot of guys in her life–they were almost always horny. Always looking for sex.

All she’d have to do is dress up, head into a bar and the guys should take care of the rest of it.

Gia, anticipating the fact that they’d probably pull out once they were sober, had made them sign contracts. Basically, they’d had to sign their name stating they’d do it on a napkin. Damn Gia–she’d have to be a law student.

Gia had assigned them separate places to look. She’d given herself Club 101, Carly had gotten Luke’s, Brenda the Outback and Elizabeth…?

Elizabeth had gotten Jake’s, a bar on the docks that all the dockworkers went to after work. Gia had thought she was making Elizabeth’s job difficult–but Gia also didn’t know that Elizabeth was a regular there and good friends with the woman who owned it.

Elizabeth tightened the robe around her waist and pursed her lips as she perused her closet. Skirts–you never wore those to a bar. Even if you were looking for a one-night stand. It was easy access for guys who didn’t know better.

And she’d met a lot of guys who didn’t know better.

See, Elizabeth liked sex. She knew that in most circles, that probably made her slut, but she didn’t really care. She was twenty-one, in college, on her own and carried at least three condoms everywhere she went. She was responsible about it and as long as no one got hurt–

Well, what were a few one-night stands?

Elizabeth’s best friends had no idea about this little hobby of hers. She wasn’t sure why she’d never told them. It wasn’t like they were saints. Carly Benson alone had probably beaten her in the number of guys they’d slept with. Gia had just broken up with her boyfriend and was going a little wild. Brenda was usually restrained, but you get enough tequila in her–watch out.

Elizabeth was the youngest in the group and considered the little sister. Maybe that’s why she never confided in them.

But after tonight? Maybe she could prove she wasn’t as innocent as they liked to believe.

She pushed aside a pair of jeans and pulled the leather pants she’d bought on a whim a few months ago. She grinned and headed to the other side of the closet where she flipped through her tank tops and dug out the black one she’d stopped wearing when it’d shrunk a size too small in the washer.

The phone rang as Elizabeth was arranging her brown curls in a casual disarray. She reached out with one hand and clicked the speaker phone.

“Hello?” she asked, picking up the cover up and applying a light coat to her face.

“Webber, it’s me,” Gia’s voice wafted through the room. “Just making sure you’re not chickening out.”

Elizabeth smirked as she applied the smoky gray eye shadow. “Not a chance. Since when I have I backed down from something I’d said I do?”

“Well–”

“Don’t bring up that again,” Elizabeth groaned. She closed the eye shadow and picked up the eye liner. “Lucky Spencer was an idiot. There was no way I was going to date him.”

“All right, fair enough. So, you’re going to go through with this?” Gia asked, her voice a little doubtful.

Elizabeth just shook her head. “I’m not a virgin, Gia. I can handle a one-night stand, you know.”

“You know…” Gia hesitated. “About safety and all that.”

Elizabeth almost burst out laughing. They really did think she was an innocent little girl. “Of course, Gia.”

“Well, it’s just Brenda was making a big stink about dragging you into this plan and I was feeling a little bad. I mean, you haven’t been with a lot of guys–”

“What makes you say that?” Elizabeth asked, leaning forward to apply the mascara. She set it back on the dresser and studied her reflection in the mirror.

Gia didn’t reply right away–seemed a little stunned actually. “Elizabeth. What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked finally.

“Exactly what I meant to say,” Elizabeth reply, digging through a pile of make up to retrieve just the right shade of red. “I’m not some innocent little girl the three of you need to lead around because you feel sorry for me.”

“We…We never–ever–thought of you like that,” Gia said, firmly.

Elizabeth snorted. “Could have fooled me.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Gia told her. “You don’t have to do this to prove yourself.”

“I’m not doing this to prove myself,” Elizabeth retorted. She capped the lipstick and fluffed her hair out once more. She studied her reflection again and seemed satisfied with what she saw. “I’m doing this because it’s Saturday night.” She paused and then went into for the kill. “And I do this every Saturday night.”

Before Gia could manage a reply, Elizabeth swiftly hit the disconnect button and jerked her leather jacket off the back of a chair. She pulled it on and flipped her hair out from underneath the collar. She was pissed now–she’d never had confirmation of her friends’ pity for her–but Gia had just validated her thoughts.

—————-

“Hey, Liz,” Jake said as Elizabeth slipped onto a bar stool in front of her. “Can’t say I’m surprised you’re back again.”

Elizabeth smiled. “You know I love this place. I’d much rather go here than some stuffy old club like the Outback or Club 101.”

Jake smiled proudly. “I do have a unique establishment, don’t I?”

“You do,” Elizabeth agreed. She looked around and frowned. The bar was usually packed by this time of night. Instead, there were a few men at the bar and a couple at the pool table. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, the Quartermaines gave their workers the day off,” Jake supplied. “I don’t know why–but they’re not coming in here to work off steam.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth shrugged. Just made her job a little more challenging. She gave the bartender and owner a bright smile. “The usual.”

Jake slid a bottle of beer across the counter and sighed. “You know, a bright and intelligent girl could be doing so much more with her life.”

“I am,” Elizabeth said, defensively. “I’m going to school and I’ve got a job. I just like to blow off steam every once in a while.” She slid off the barstool and perused the bar again looking for a likely candidate. A smile crossed her face as she found her prey. He was familiar–like she’d seen him somewhere outside the bar. He was in the back, playing pool at a table by himself.

Elizabeth licked her lips as she studied his form leaning over the table, lining up another shot. Short spiky dark blonde hair, muscular forearms. She’d be willing to bet any amount of money that the rest of him looked just as yummy.

Jake shook her head in amusement as Elizabeth Webber took her jacket off, slung it over her left arm and headed over to Jason Morgan’s pool table, beer in hand.

She’d seen Elizabeth’s look of determination and knew that when Elizabeth decided she wanted something–

She almost always got it.

—————-

Elizabeth set the beer on a nearby table and put the jacket over the back of one of the chairs. “I don’t suppose there’s room for one more,” she said.

Jason Morgan looked, ready to say no when his eyes connected first with the black leather pants. His gaze seemed locked on the waist of the woman and the tight as a second skin pants. He finally drug his eyes past her breasts encased in a small–very–small black tank top and looked her face. The expectant look in her smoky blue eyes, the generous lips painted a dark red that just begged to be kissed off.

“Sure,” he found himself saying. He grinned quickly, indicating the rack of pool cues. “I’m always in the mood to win.”

She raised one dark slim eyebrow and put a hand on her hips. “Are you?” she asked. “Well, I hate losing,” she remarked as she selected one of the cues. She took out of the rack and picked up the chalk to rub it on top. She met his eyes. “And I never lose.”

Jason broke away from her eyes to rack the balls. There was just something incredible about this woman who had just showed up at his table. Most patrons knew who he was and didn’t come near him. He was Jason Morgan, Sonny Corinthos’ right hand man. The hitman and enforcer for the mob.

Whether this woman didn’t recognize him or didn’t care who he was–it was something different, that’s for sure.

“You can break,” he said after a few moments. She smirked and slid past him, relishing in the sharp intake of breath she heard as her bottom brushed the front of his jeans for a few minutes.

This was almost too easy.

They played in silence for the most part. Elizabeth made sure to brush past him a few more times, slid her fingers suggestively up and down the pool cue. She could hear him swallowing almost every time it was her turn.

But then he turned the tables. After one of her turns, he brushed in front of her–his back coming in contact with her breasts and she’d had to struggle not to gasp in pleasure. The mere sight of this man had aroused her, but she needed to downplay it.

She wanted to be the one in charge and it just wouldn’t work if he knew just how much he was affecting her.

As the game neared its end–they were both competing heavily, at this point either one of them could win–Elizabeth leaned against the table and watched him line up another shot. “You know,” she said, “what would make this more fun?”

Jason made his shot and looked up at the vixen who’d been driving him insane the entire night. “And what would that be?” he asked.

“Raising the stakes,” Elizabeth replied. He lined up another shot, having sunk a ball in the previous turn.

Jason missed the shot and straightened. She didn’t say anything at first as she studied the table to make her next shot. She found it and started to move past him. Jason gripped the left hip, stilling her movement and planting her right in front of him, pressed up against him. Her eyes flared a little as she realized exactly how much the stakes were raised already. “What did you have in mind?” he murmured.

She licked her lips, drawing his eyes to her mouth again. “If I win,” she began, tilting her head back to look up at him, “I get a ride.”

“A ride?” Jason repeated, knowing exactly what she meant and loving the idea. An idea sparked in him and he smirked. “All right. And if I win, I get to take you for a ride.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up in a little smile and she nodded. “Sounds fair.”

Ten minutes later, Jason sank the winning shot and straightened up. “I guess I win.”

Elizabeth glared at the table. “I can’t believe this. I’ve never lost at pool before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Jason teased. “So, you want that ride?”

Elizabeth finished her beer and grabbed her jacket. “Definitely.”

He took her hand and Elizabeth frowned when he led her past the stairs and towards the front doors. He pushed open the door and suddenly Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

The man had a motorcycle. That was his big “ride.”

Shit. She should have tried harder. She should have known it wasn’t going to be easy. She’d taken it for granted that he’d be a pushover.

Shit shit shit.

He pulled a helmet off the back and handed it to her. “Here.” When Elizabeth reached out for it, he held it back. “Wait.”

Elizabeth sighed impatiently. She was already going to lose this game–that’s what she got for letting for hormones lead the way. “What?”

“I never got your name,” Jason said.

Elizabeth shrugged. This night was a loss–might as well as toss it completely down the drain. “Elizabeth.”

“Just Elizabeth?” Jason asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Elizabeth replied. She waited for a few seconds before she sighed again, “What’s your name?”

Jason hesitated. There was every possibility that the second he gave his first name, it might connect in her mind.

And he’d lose whatever leverage he had.

He was never one to lie to anyone so he said it. “Jason.”

Elizabeth nodded and understanding dawned in her eyes. “Now I know where I know you.”

He frowned. “Oh, really.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth replied. “You were at Emily Quartermaine’s graduation party this spring. She’s a year a head of me in school, but we had a class together.”

Shit. This girl was only twenty-one. And a friend of his baby sister’s to boot. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

“We didn’t really know each other all that well,” Elizabeth continued. “But she knew Brenda and Brenda drug me along for the ride.”

And she knew Brenda Barrett. This just didn’t seem to be Jason’s night.

Elizabeth frowned. “So, you reneging on your offer?” she asked.

“What?” Jason asked, tuning back in to her. “What do you mean?”

She held her hand out for the helmet. “Aren’t we supposed to be going somewhere?” she asked pointedly. “I mean, I don’t especially know where, but you seemed to have a destination in mind.”

He had. His penthouse. But he was beginning to reconsider the idea. He hesitated another moment and looked down at her.

Wait–why should he? She’d made it blatantly obvious what she wanted. The whole ride wager–well, if that hadn’t convinced him, the way she’d been looking or the way she’d been holding the pool cue all night definitely tipped him off.

She was over eighteen–over twenty-one. She appeared to know what she was doing and it wasn’t like he was going to force her to do anything. They were both adults.

He handed her the helmet. “I think I have a way to make both of us happy,” he told her.

Elizabeth smirked and took the helmet from him. “Oh, really?” she asked, looking up at him.

In one swift movement, his hand snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. He searched her eyes for any sign that she didn’t want him this close or for any sign of hesitancy. When he didn’t find one, he grinned and leaned down.

She tilted her head up even further to meet his lips. It crossed her mind just before their lips made contacts that she’d already broke two of Gia’s rules. They’d exchanged names.

And she was definitely emotionally involved now.

They kissed with a fierce intensity, exploring each other’s mouths, fighting for control. The helmet dropped to the ground as Elizabeth threaded her fingers through his dark blonde hair. His mouth devoured hers greedily, his hands at the small of her back, holding her close.

When the need for oxygen became too much to ignore, they broke away, each sucking in air.

When Elizabeth felt calm enough to speak, she asked, “So…your place or mine?”

He swept the helmet from the ground, and handed it to her. “My place.”

She hooked the chin strap and swung her leg over the seat and scooted up behind him, letting her hands trail of the muscles of his chest.

“Hey, watch where you’re putting those,” he chastised, turning the engine on. “We want to make it there in one piece, don’t we?”

—————-

Jason closed the door behind them as Elizabeth looked around his apartment–or penthouse, as it clearly was. It was nearly bare–a few pieces of furniture and a pool table.

She frowned. Jason lived in Harborview Towers. Sonny Corinthos lived here, too. It was always in the papers–

Oh.

She turned to look at him. “You’re Jason Morgan, aren’t you?” she asked.

He looked away for a second before meeting her gaze and holding it. “Yeah.”

She bit her lip and only hesitated for a second. “Webber.”

“What?” Jason asked, confused.

“That’s my last name,” Elizabeth replied. “Elizabeth Webber.”

“Oh.” Jason searched his mind for the name. Now that he thought about it, Brenda Barrett had mentioned her a few times. Mainly as a girl she’d met through Gia Campbell. The girl was supposed to be young and kind of innocent. Brenda had often remarked that she was taking her under her wing.

He found himself wondering how her friends had ever got the idea that Elizabeth was innocent.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by the feeling of her small hands on his chest. “So,” she asked, “Are you going to stand there staring into space all night or–”

She never finished her thought as he took her arms and held them at her sides while he devoured her mouth again. She kissed him back just as hard–eradicating any thoughts that might be lingering in his mind about what Elizabeth had wanted to do tonight.

He let go of her arms and they wound tightly around his neck, trying to pull him even closer to her body. He broke away from her mouth and trailed his mouth down her jaw line to her neck and finally her collarbone. She tilted back to give him better access and when she got frustrated by the clothing between them, she pushed him away.

“What–” Jason was cut off when Elizabeth reached for the hem of his shirt and jerked it over his head. She let it fall to the floor as she leaned forward to kiss his chest. Her lips closed over his nipple and he tensed, threading her fingers in her curls.

After a few moments of that delicious torture, Elizabeth pulled away again and crossed her arms to pull off her tank top. It was Jason’s turn to have a little fun and he pulled towards the couch, going slowly so that she could change her mind if she wanted to.

She didn’t and let him lay her gently on the leather couch. He was over her in a second, adjusting himself so he wasn’t crushing her. When he was comfortable, he leaned down and took one of her nipples in his mouth. She almost bucked right off the couch, but he held her down with one of his hands as he suckled.

“Oh, god,” Elizabeth moaned, squirming a little under his ministrations. Jason switched sides and lavished the same amount of attention to her other breast.

After a few more minutes, Jason raised himself up and captured her mouth in a soft kiss before pulling away. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, kissing the side of her neck.

Elizabeth would have said something but he was pulling her pants off and she was too interested in what came next. She was getting a little antsy. Foreplay was nice and all, but she was becoming way too hot to concentrate anything else but the thought of—

Jason’s finger pushed inside of her, effectively breaking into Elizabeth’s thoughts. He stroked her—soft at first but as her moans got louder and she got closer, he slipped another finger in and kept his eyes on her as she closed her eyes and cried out. “Oh–J–Jason!”

He watched her orgasm wash over her and withdrew her fingers. She whimpered and opened her eyes, her breathing still heavy. “Jason–”

“Hold on,” he told her. “I just have to go upstairs–”

“No, no,” Elizabeth argued. She sat up a little and searched the room desperately. “My purse,” she told him.

He was back in a matter of seconds, but had taken the time to shed his jeans and boxers. The condom was in place when he slid back between her legs. Her legs raised instinctively to cradle him. “Are you sure?” he asked for the first time, meeting her eyes.

She nodded. “Definitely,” she promised. One of her arms was around his neck, the other on his back and Elizabeth moaned as he slid inside of her. “Oh, good lord,” she breathed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. He thrust inside her again and she raised her hips to meet him. They eventually found a rhythm and she clutched at his back as her second orgasm of the night drew closer.

“Oh, my god,” she moaned. Elizabeth bit her lip and closed her eyes again.

She tried to hold back, tried to wait for him, but it proved impossible. “Sweet leaping Je–sus,” Elizabeth cried out.

He chuckled and thrust once more before finding his release as well. Spent, he collapsed on top of her for a few seconds. He raised his head and brought one of his hands up to push her sweaty hair off her forehead. “So.”

Elizabeth gave him a tired smile. “So.”

“I figure we could go upstairs,” he told her. She frowned when he pulled out of her. He stood and disposed of the condom before holding his hand out to her. Elizabeth stood, a little self-conscious. “Because, you know, you still have two more condoms,” he continued. “And the bed’s a little more comfortable.”

Elizabeth grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

She grabbed her purse and laughed as Jason hooked an arm under knees and swept her into his arms. “Swept right off my feet,” she drawled as he headed for the stairs.

“I knew you were trouble the second I laid eyes on you,” he mused.

Elizabeth sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, thinking she could spend the rest of her life contently wrapped in his arms. “Yeah, well, I don’t think you quite mind the kind of trouble I’m going to cause you.”

The promise in her voice made him grin. “Oh, I think I think we’re going to cause a lot of trouble together.”

“Sounds good to me,” she laughed as he kicked his bedroom door open.

Prompt: Stay

When he’d first followed the tiny VW Bug, Officer Jason Morgan had no idea that he was about to pull over the very irate pregnant wife of the police commissioner, Ric Lansing.

And now her car had quit and Mrs–Miss Webber, he automatically corrected, was very much in labor.

“Okay, just–just stay right there,” Jason told her. He ripped his radio off his belt. “Dispatch, I need bus at my location. Now.”

“What’s the emergency officer?” a crackling voice came back over the static.

“I’ve got a female in labor,” Jason replied. He stepped towards Elizabeth Webber and kneeled in front of her. “How far along are you, ma’am?”

“Eight months,” Elizabeth bit her lip and tightened her hand around her steering wheel. “Oh man, oh man, this really hurts.”

“Keep her calm, officer. Bus is en route. ETA twenty minutes.”

He hooked the radio back on his belt and took a deep breath. “I–I, uh, never been in this situation before Miss Webber. Do–do you know how close you are to delivery?”

“Do I look like a doctor?” she screeched.

“Okay, maybe I should just get you in my car and get you to the hospital myself,” Jason said hesitantly. He reached for her hand. “Miss Webber?”

She took his hand and just as he started to pull her to her feet, another contraction slammed into her and she nearly hit the ground. Jason braced her weight in his arms and kept her standing. “Keep a hold on me, okay?”

Elizabeth nodded fervently and bit her lip as they started to move towards his police car. Jason took his radio back out. “Dispatch, cancel that bus. The female seems to be in advanced labor and I am transporting her to the hospital.”

“Ten-four.”

He settled her in the passenger side of his car just as another contraction ripped through her. “Oh God, they’re coming so fast, that’s not good!” In her pain, she gripped his arm so tightly he nearly yelped. “I don’t think I’m going to make it to the hospital,” Elizabeth whimpered.

“Y-you have to, Miss Webber. I’m not equipped to deliver a baby,” Jason said, panicked.

“M-maybe you should see if the baby’s coming,” Elizabeth suggested.

Jason paled. “Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m in a position to kid?” Elizabeth demanded. “You’re a cop, you’re supposed to…like help me aren’t you?”

“Uh yeah.” Jason swore under his breath and made a promise to never pull over another female driver for the rest of his career. He reached for her legs and maneuvered them out of the car. “So…I just look right?”

“I don’t know, this is my first kid,” Elizabeth retorted.

“Right, right.” Jason hooked his fingers on the buttons of her jeans and slid the zipper down. “This feels so wrong,” he muttered. He tugged the jeans over her hips.

“Okay, what am I looking for?” Jason asked her, not wanting to look down there unless he absolutely had to.

“A baby’s head,” Elizabeth said with a glare. “Look, this isn’t exactly the my idea of the perfect delivery–you know–a strange man looking at my goodies so why don’t you just cut the shy act and help me, okay?”

“Right.” Jason glanced and closed his eyes. “So I think the kid’s gonna have your hair color.”

Elizabeth blinked. “What?”

“Dark hair I mean…I see the baby,” Jason told her. “Okay, okay…I can do this. I’ve seen it on television, you know?”

“Oh dear God,” Elizabeth wailed. Another contraction wracked her body and she started to cry. “Oh, I really wanted drugs. I want drugs!”

Realizing that he would have to deliver this baby, Jason took a deep breath and yanked her jeans and panties all the way down. He tugged off her sneakers and now she was nude from the waist down. “Okay, I think if you push with the contractions–that’s supposed to help, right?”

“I think so,” Elizabeth grunted.

“So…next one, you’re going to push,” Jason nodded decisively. He reached into his glove compartment and took out a bottle of water. “You want some of this?”

She nodded eagerly reached for it. She downed half the bottle in one thirsty gulp. “This isn’t fair,” she whimpered. “This was supposed to be a happy day with me and Ric and our families and instead I’m on the side of the road with a police officer I don’t even know…”

“Well, Miss Webber, this isn’t my idea of a good day either but I’m going to do my best for you and your baby,” Jason promised her.

“Oh…oh…ow, here it goes again,” Elizabeth moaned.

“Okay, now is a good time to push,” Jason told her. “Go!”

Elizabeth grunted and after a few more minutes, the head pulled through. Jason braced his hands on it, keeping it steady. “The head’s out,” he reported. “Keep pushing, Elizabeth, I hear once the shoulders are out, it’s all down hill from there.”

Her face red and sweaty, Elizabeth gritted her teeth and gave one more push, forcing the baby’s shoulders out. Jason easily slid the rest of the baby’s body out and cradled the slimy little body against his uniform. “It’s a boy,” he told her with a smile as Elizabeth’s son started to wail. “Reminds me of you already.”

Elizabeth’s tears started again in full force as she reached for her son. Jason hesitated. “The umbilical cord,” he told her. “We need to cut it and there’s placenta and stuff, right?”

“Right,” Elizabeth nodded. She sat up and took off her shirt, revealing a tank top underneath. “Here–he needs to stay warm.”

Jason took it from her and wrapped the baby in it. “I need the first aid kit from the glove compartment. “There are some scissors in there.”

A few moments later, he’d cut the cord and the placenta had been disposed off. He managed to get her jeans back on and handed her the baby. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

—

A few hours later, Jason knocked on her open hospital door. His uniform was gone–replaced by jeans and a t-shirt. “Miss Webber?”

“Officer Morgan,” Elizabeth said with a smile. She had her son in her arms and a pretty brunette was seated next to her. “Emily, this is the cop that delivered Steven.”

“Oh, thank God you were there,” the girl named Emily declared. “The doctors say that both Elizabeth and Steven are in great health.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t screw it up,” Jason remarked honestly. “But I think I’ve sworn off female drivers for the rest of my life.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Have you seen your husband yet, ma’am?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “If that jackass comes within five miles of this room, I’ll kill him. And…call me, Elizabeth?” Her blue eyes sparkled. “After all…you’ve seen me half-naked.”

Prompt: Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

Furious, she pressed on the gas pedal, spurring her much abused car to leap ahead a little bit.

“No good son of a bitch,” she muttered. She ignored the stop sign and sped ahead, angry words hissing through her teeth like steam rising from a tea kettle. “When I find him, I’ll kill him.”

Ignoring the blares of the horns and the yells of outraged drivers, Elizabeth Webber breezed through a red light.

Predictably, she soon noticed the familiar red flashing lights behind her. “Is there no justice?” she screeched. Pulling the car to a sudden and abrupt halt, the police car behind her was forced to swerve off the road in order to avoid crashing into the back of her ancient hatchback.

She threw the car into park and launched herself out of the car, murder on her mind. “Do you have a problem?” she demanded, hotly.

The police officer threw open his door and stalked towards her, his blue eyes cold as ice. “Have you lost your mind lady?”

“Yes!” Elizabeth threw her hands up in the air. “Yes! Can’t you tell? I only broke a thousand traffic laws back there! Obviously I’m in a hurry!”

“You were going fifty in a twenty, you lunatic,” the officer growled. “You ran three stop signs and two red lights. Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”

“To take a baseball bat to my husband’s knees,” Elizabeth hissed. She reached inside her car and withdrew the object in question. A good old fashioned wooden bat. The officer took a step back and she rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, the only person I’m going to be injuring is that fuck ass.”

He reached forward and grasped the bat. “Give me it,” he directed.

“No.” She yanked it back. “That son of a bitch is going to know pain when I’m done with him!”

“Okay, okay.” He set his notepad on the top of her car. “Look, I can see that you’re very angry but that’s no reason to put the lives of everyone else on road at risk.”

Elizabeth hesitated, her eyes darting back to the last intersection she’d just come through. “Sorry.”

“Well…sorry’s not going to be good enough.” The officer reached behind him and she paled, seeing he was going for his handcuffs.

“Look, okay maybe I was a little out of hand, you know? I was pissed–a-and just going on instinct.” Elizabeth set the baseball bat down on the road. “I’ll take the ticket, the fine whatever–”

“I’m sorry, Mrs.–”

“Miss Webber, I didn’t take his name,” she retorted. Taking a deep breath. “Okay, I know I’m probably guilty of reckless driving and all of that good stuff and you have every right to be mad at me because I’ve been acting like a serious madwoman but really–there’s no need to…” she swallowed hard, her eyes trained on the silver bracelet-shaped objects in his hands.

“It’s the law–”

“He’s been cheating on me,” Elizabeth said desperately, “And it’s with my sister, you know? I mean, that’s going to piss anyone off, right?”

“Well, yeah–”

“And it’s been going on since before we were married. And that’s like five years we’re talking about,” Elizabeth continued, her words coming quickly, her face becoming flushed from the strain. “Seriously, if you run my license and my name–I have no tickets, no record, really.”

With a sigh, the officer tucked the cuffs back into his pocket and pulled the cap off his head, wiping his forehead with his forearm. “Here’s what I’m going to do, Miss Webber. I’m going to take your word on it. You don’t seem like the type to do this kind of driving normally, okay? Just…do me a favor and go home.”

Elizabeth sighed and ran her hands through her hair, the sides of her bulk coat parting, revealing her to be in an advanced state of pregnancy. “I don’t have a home,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry–what?”

“I don’t have a home,” Elizabeth bit out, her eyes flashing. “He locked me out of the house.”

“Okay, we’ll just get a locksmith–”

“You obviously don’t know who my husband is–” her eyes flicked down to the little name tag beneath his badge, “–Officer Morgan.”

Officer Jason Morgan frowned. He knew from the moment she’d leapt out of the car that she’d looked familiar. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth agreed with a bemused smile. “You probably know him.”

“Commissioner Richard Lansing,” they said together.

“Okay…” Jason cocked his head to the side. “Okay, so what about a friend’s house?”

“The only friend I had in this godforsaken town was my sister–and if I go there, you’d better believe someone’s not coming out.”

“Well…we’ve got another problem.” He gestured to where her car had just conked out. She’d left it running but it had just…stopped. With a loud huff.

“Oh…no…” Elizabeth sat down, her legs dangling into the street. She turned the ignition off and then tried to start again. “Come on–ow!”

Concerned he started forward at her outcry of pain. “Are you okay?”

“Must be Murphy’s Law,” Elizabeth said through clenched teeth. She took a few deep breaths. “You know–where everything that can go wrong…will go wrong?”

“Yeah?”

“My water just broke.”

“Oh. Well…shit.”

Timeline & Inspiration

Set vaguely after Elizabeth left the penthouse in 2002, like close to the end of the year in November or December but it’s not really important. This was written as Canvas Flash Fiction Challenge, written in 60 minutes. The prompt was: Power is the ability to walk away from something you desire to protect someone you love. It’s kind of crazy to look back and see how much shorter my Flash Fiction 60 minute entries were. I’m much faster now, LOL.

Banner

“I’m sorry.”

“Goodbye.”

They were words that had ceased to have meaning for Elizabeth Webber. She’d heard them so many times over the past three years. From her parents. From her friends. From everyone in her life.

Her mother was sorry they missed her ballet recital–Sarah had to go shopping for her Homecoming dress. Her father was sorry he’d missed the concert in which she had a Christmas solo–Steven had a ice hockey game.

Her parents were always sorry when they passed her over for Sarah and Steven. They were always apologetic and they tried to find ways to make it up to her. Mostly through gifts and money.

Material possessions and money became the way Elizabeth measured her parents love. The more she received, the more they loved her. It didn’t matter that they never said they loved her or that they were always too busy with Sarah and Steven to really care about her.

They’d said goodbye when leaving her at the Johnsons. They’d been offered the chance of a lifetime–to take care of soldiers in Bosnia. They’d always wanted to make a difference. Steven was in college by the time this happened, Sarah a senior in high school and Elizabeth a sophomore.

They’d only be gone a year–they’d keep in touch.

She didn’t see them again. A year in Bosnia led to one in Switzerland which led to two in Russia. After that, they decided they preferred Europe and were going to stay. Steven and Sarah decided they preferred Europe as well.

Elizabeth Webber lived alone in a cold and drafty studio. Her only family–her grandmother Audrey Hardy—had a massive coronary on Christmas Eve and died in the early hours of December 27.

She had no one else in the small town of Port Charles, save for a few friends and a couple of former friends.

She’d been sitting at Audrey’s bedside when she heard the news that Brenda Barrett and Jasper Jacks had fled the jurisdiction. Jax couldn’t be prosecuted for the murder of Luis Alcazar and Brenda wouldn’t have to testify.

She’d been making the funeral arrangements for Audrey when the murder charges were dropped and the divorce for both Jax and Brenda came through. Skye had a change of heart or something along those lines and had granted the divorce. Jason Morgan signed the divorce papers when it became clear Brenda wasn’t returning.

She was packing up Audrey’s house when she heard that Courtney Quartermaine was pregnant.

And that was the final piece of news that sealed her decision. Courtney Quartermaine was pregnant and she’d been sleeping with Jason for a little over a month. She said the baby was his.

It didn’t matter that even Elizabeth could tell the other woman was lying–that she couldn’t be sure if AJ or Jason were the father.

Jason didn’t think so. He believed Courtney.

Carly Corinthos had decided that she didn’t want Courtney and Jason together after all and came to tell Elizabeth that Sonny had blown a gasket when Courtney turned up pregnant. He’d all but ordered Jason to marry Courtney.

Carly told Elizabeth that Jason had argued very logically that the baby could be AJ’s. And Sonny had countered with a threat.

Carly had filed for divorce and came to tell Elizabeth that she was sorry for the way she’d treated her after Sonny had faked his death. Carly said that Elizabeth had had a right to know.

She asked Elizabeth if there was anyway to change Elizabeth’s mind–if maybe she’d try and give Jason another chance.

Elizabeth explained very simply that she couldn’t do that. She confided that she still loved Jason very much, but he was no longer the man she’d fallen in love with. The man that never would have slept with Courtney while they were each still married. The man that would never have let Sonny Corinthos order him around.

She couldn’t give their relationship another chance. No matter how much she loved Jason, she wouldn’t allow herself to settle for a shadow of the man he’d used to be.

She’d done that once before and it hadn’t worked out. She wouldn’t compromise who she was again.

She’d walked away from something she desired to protect someone she loved.

Herself.

And she wasn’t going to turn around.

The day Jason Morgan married for the second time, Elizabeth Webber got a flight to Venice, Italy.

Timeline & Inspiration

This was a response to the Flash Fiction challenges at The Canvas in October 2002. The prompt was “missing in action” and is set very shortly after Elizabeth left the penthouse in October 2002. She was pulled briefly into the Spencer drama where Luke had disappeared following Laura’s breakdown, and Lucky was trying to find him.

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Elizabeth Webber shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she stood at a pay phone on the docks. She’d been on hold for ten minutes and had already had to feed more money into the machine. “Come on,” she muttered.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jason stalking towards her and she grimaced. He must have found out what she was up to. Knowing it wouldn’t do any good, she turned her body away to give her more time.

“Yes. I need two bus tickets to Atlantic City. Right. Atlantic–yes, tonight. As soon as possible–directly–” the phone was jerked out of her hands and she was roughly turned around.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s a little late to be interested in my activities, don’t you think?”

He didn’t even flinch. “That’s a low blow.”

“Too bad,” Elizabeth snapped. She turned back to the phone, already digging in her pocket for more money. She really needed a cell phone. “How’d you find out anyway?”

“One of the waitresses at Kelly’s,” Jason replied.

Elizabeth turned back around and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because Marisa would just jumping to tell you I was leaving town. How’d you really find out?”

“One of the waitresses came up to Courtney and told her.”

“Oh, you were with Courtney. There’s a surprise,” Elizabeth remarked. “Do you have a problem with me leaving or something? Because it’s a little late to act like you give a damn.”

“Elizabeth, you can’t just go to Atlantic City with Lucky Spencer to…” Jason stopped. “Why are you going with Lucky?”

Elizabeth frowned. “Wait a second. You’re all worked up just because I’m going with Lucky…not because we’re going to look for Luke?”

“You’re looking for Luke,” Jason repeated. “Are you insane?”

“No,” Elizabeth said, defensively. “You know what? Go back to Courtney. The big bad stalker’s probably attacking her at this second.”

“That’s not funny,” Jason said, his expression dark.

“I think it’s hysterical,” Elizabeth muttered. She began fishing through her purse. “I know I have change in here somewhere… You know what really irritates me? You guard her personally. That’s what so infuriating. I get shot at, my life’s actually in danger and you stick me in a penthouse, but aww…Skipper gets a little scared by some heavy breathing and there goes Super Jase–off to save the day!”

“What are you talking about?” Jason demanded. “Are you jealous?”

She looked up from her purse, her eyes blazing. “Jealous? Jealous? You self-centered pig!” She put the purse on the ledge of the pay phone and shoved at him. He didn’t move an inch, but she got her point across. “You think I’d be jealous of that little…that little twit?” she raged.

“Then what’s wrong?” Jason asked, throwing his arms up in frustration. “You’re not making sense!”

“Why are you the only one that can protect her?” Elizabeth demanded. “Why does she get you when I got a nameless guard? What? Does she mean more? Are you in love with her? You sleeping with her? Was AJ actually right?”

“You know you don’t really think that.”

“Then why does Courtney get your personal attention? Why?” Elizabeth asked. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. You’re not my boyfriend–and I don’t give a damn how you spend your time.” She grabbed her purse and stalked away.

He followed her and grabbed her arm. “You can’t just go searching for a fugitive, Elizabeth.”

She whirled around and shoved him again. “You know what, Jason? Go to hell! The only reason you care is because I’m doing something that doesn’t involve you! You’re the one who’s jealous–you came here all upset at me because I’m going somewhere with Lucky–and then you go and accuse me of being jealous of Courtney? Make up your damn mind!”

“That’s not it and you know it. Don’t you know how dangerous–”

“Oh, shut up!” she groaned. “I don’t think looking for Lucky’s father is any more dangerous than being with you, so just save your breath and go back to Courtney. I’m sure she saw her shadow or something.”

“Will you stop that?”

“Stop what?” Elizabeth demanded. “Jason, it’s too late to act like you care about who I see and who I’m with. You had your shot and you blew it. You’re the one who never called, who never came home, who let me worry for no good reason.”

“We’re back to that?”

Elizabeth was positively hysterical with rage now. “You knew I was worried sick–you knew I was scared for you and you let me sit in that penthouse wondering if you were dead or alive while you and Sonny were out there perpetuating a lie, so don’t act like you’re innocent. This was never about Sonny faking his death and you not telling me–this was about you making me feel like I was worth next to shit in your life. Well, you know what? I’m through–I’m through waiting around for you to wake up and see what you’re missing–you let me walk away so you deal with that. I have some phone calls to make.”

He let go of her arm and stepped back. “Just…just be careful.”

The anger seemed to drain out of her body as she just stared at him. “You really are an idiot aren’t you?”

“What did I do now?” he asked, irritated.

“You always do this!” she cried. “You make me think you care and then you just stop–you shut down. What is wrong with you?”

“What? I’ve made it clear I don’t agree with this–but you’re going to do what you want anyway!”

“Damn right I am, but–” Elizabeth just stopped and shook her head. “Fine. Just remember something–when you’re done protecting Courtney and taking care of Carly and doing what Sonny tells you…and you go home to that empty penthouse of yours…remember that it’s no one’s fault but your own.” She turned around then and stalked away.

Prompt: Coffee, tea, or me

Elizabeth Webber shoved the coffee pot into its place and glared at nothing in particular. After an entire day of working, she was more than ready to call it a night and sleep for a week. She hated this job and she hated Port Charles. She should have never moved here. What had she been thinking? Trying to connect to a sister and grandmother who quite clearly didn’t want her here?

She checked the clock. Ten minutes until closing. She could do this. The diner was nearly empty anyway. A couple in one corner and one man—drinking coffee in the courtyard.

She bypassed the couple–she was in no mood to deal with young love–and breezed out of the doors—in time to see the explosion.

The man drinking coffee in the courtyard had been alone when Elizabeth had served him. Now, a brunette was sitting across from him and a blonde was in the brunette’s face. Both were arguing bitterly and the man seemed to content to let them kill each other.

Elizabeth almost walked back in–but she found herself curious. The trio hadn’t noticed her appearance, so she crossed her arms and leaned back to enjoy the drama.

She learned the brunette was Robin, the blonde Carly and the man Jason. The blonde seemed to be blunt, bordering on the crude while Robin the brunette was sweetly cutting. Every word that came out of her mouth could be interpreted about a dozen ways. The man, Jason, wasn’t speaking at all. In fact, he seemed to be ignoring their presence.

Elizabeth discovered that Jason had been in relationships with both of them at one point or another. He had a son with Carly and had broken up with both of them–which meant he was single, Elizabeth decided, looking over the muscular blonde Adonis. Not a bad thing.

Robin accused Carly of wrecking her life and anyone else’s that came along while Carly accused her of betraying Jason. Robin said something along the lines of Carly being a slut which Carly laughed off.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow as Robin called Carly insane and was pleasantly surprised when Robin brought up the son that apparently wasn’t Jason’s after all. Just as Robin finished telling Carly that she should take her son and leave town, Jason suddenly sat forward.

He told Robin in no certain terms that she was never to mention Michael’s name again. Carly smiled gleefully until Jason turned to her and told her to go home to Sonny. Robin stood and left, throwing a hurt glance towards Jason. Carly seemed to back off after the Sonny comment and left.

Amused, Elizabeth came forward with the coffee pot. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No.” Jason looked up. “How long were you standing there?”

“I came out just as Carly showed up,” Elizabeth replied. She pulled out her order pad and scribbled the amount. “Sounds like you have your hands full.” She put the check in the table. “You ever get them squared away? Give me a call.” She grinned at him and headed back into Kelly’s, her cell phone number in a circle underneath the amount of his check.

+12

January 27, 2014

All of the old stories from the Song Fiction category are available under the ‘Short Stories’ section. I reread them, and got a kick out of how often I used the same type of dialogue to reunite Jason and Elizabeth in the 2002-04 years. I thought about how much better Cry Ophelia would have been if I hadn’t been trying to insert Jason/Liz reunion stuff in there.

The new revised Shadows has been started and I’m pleased at how it’s coming along, since it’s the first fanfiction I’ve written in almost four years, and the first fiction writing I’ve done in almost a year. I’m moving over the short stories and series mostly, but I think I’ll move over I Shall Believe and Sanctuary first, of my completed long term stories.

I’m putting together Spotify playlists of some of the songs I featured in my stories, but several of them are not available through that program. I’m looking into alternate, legal options.

Timeline

This is an episode tag to April 18, 2006. During the quarantine in February of 2006, Robin had been stunned to learn that her father, Robert, was still alive. He’d been believed dead in an explosion in 1991. Anna had returned from the dead in 2003, but she’d been given amnesia to explain her absence. Robert never lost his memory, but willingly stayed dead for over a decade. Robin and Robert struggled to rebuild their relationship at first.

This is also set in the early days of Robin and Patrick’s relationship, before they were official.

Inspiration

Around this time same, I had listened to a song by Lindsay Lohan (do not laugh, I will find out).

The foundation of Robin Soltini Scorpio’s life was that her parents had loved her above all else. Even after their death, their love was something she could wrap around her and use it to protect her from the harsh realities of her world.

And when she’d been granted a miracle with her mother’s return from the death, she’d never dared to think that her father could have survived. If he had, he would have returned to her.

It was the one certainty that Robin had allowed in her life.

I wait for the postman to bring me a letter

After the disastrous confrontation on the docks during which Robin reaffirmed the belief that if Robert Scorpio had ever loved her, he no longer did. He had been in town, had intended on leaving again without once letting her know he was there.

She hadn’t listened to his excuses, to his explanations. She didn’t want to hear them again. There would never be any words that would justify what he had done to her and to her memory of her beloved father.

She almost wished he’d stayed dead so that Robin could have clung to the illusion that he loved her.

I wait for the good Lord to make me feel better

Robin returned to the hospital and disappeared into the lab to catch up on various projects that had gone abandoned while she had dealt with Noah Drake’s transplant and the fall out that had occurred thereafter.

“Normal people go home after their shift is over.”

Robin glanced up at the familiar voice of her cousin Georgie. “Since when have I been normal?” she asked quietly.

“Since the twelfth of never,” Georgie said with a smile. “I wanted to let you know that your dad was in town today to extradite Luke back to the Markham Islands. I couldn’t come any earlier because there was a command performance at the mansion but I thought you should know.”

“Thanks, but I ran into him on the docks,” Robin said dismissively. She adjusted the slide under her microscope.

And I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders

“Ah.” Georgie slid her hands into the back of her pockets. “Sometimes I think about tracking down my real father and asking why he left me and Maxie.” She shrugged. “But then I realize I have Mac and you know what?”

“What?” Robin sighed. She made a note in her file.

“The lack isn’t in me or Maxie. It’s in him,” Georgie said.

A family in crisis that only grows older

“It must be nice,” Robin mused softly. “To have that certainty.” She smiled briefly at her cousin and Georgie was struck by the emptiness in the expression. “There’s always been so much about my life that’s unpredictable and uncontrollable but the one belief I had that I could never be shaken was that my father loved me.”

“He does, Robin,” Georgie said. “But—”

“I appreciate you coming by,” Robin interrupted. “But I really have work to do.”

Why’d you have to go

She avoided all contact for the rest of her shift and for the first time since returning to work after her suspension, Robin left the hospital when her shift ended.

She went home to her apartment and went straight to the closet in her room and dug out the cardboard box that she had lugged from place to place for fifteen years.

Why’d you have to go

It had stayed with her in her Uncle Mac’s house, in her dorm rooms at Yale and the Sorbonne. In the cottage and the penthouse, in her apartment in Paris. Robin had dragged it everywhere because she needed the comfort it gave her.

Why’d you have to go

She tugged it out to the living room and poured herself a glass of wine, bringing the bottle out to the room with her.

Tonight, Robin Scorpio was going to get good and drunk. And she was going to destroy the memories in this box because man contained within no longer existed and she was beginning to believe he never had.

Daughter to father, daughter to father
I am broken but I am hoping

Three glasses of wine later, Robin had sorted through hundreds of photos, photos of Robert Scorpio and Anne Devane, young and old. She had collected these after their deaths, had scoured through her mother’s possessions, her father’s and her uncle’s to put together a complete picture of the parents she’d only had for seven years.

She’d wanted to remember every inch of them.

Daughter to father, daughter to father
I am crying, a part of me is dying and

She set the family portraits aside—those of her with her parents, with her father, with her mother. She put those that depicted Anna Devane alone in a separate pile.

The ones of Robert Scorpio went into a pile of its own. Along with newspaper clippings of his exploits in Port Charles, of his adventures and the days when he’d saved the world. Ticket stubs to movies and plays he’d taken her to; the wedding announcement from the Port Charles Herald when her parents had remarried. Those all went into a pile in front of the fireplace.

These are, these are
The confessions of a broken heart

Robin was struggling with a piece of firewood when someone knocked at her door. “Go away!” she called, stumbling as she finally managed to get the log set up. She reached for the box of matches and was about to strike the first one when the door opened.

“Look, Scorpio, I don’t have time for your avoidance issues—” Patrick Drake broke off when he saw the scene before him. Robin, surrounded by hundreds of photographs and mementos, tear stains on her cheeks, a match in her hand. “Oh.”

“Go away,” Robin sighed, too tired to deal with him. “Whatever grievance you have can wait until tomorrow.”

Patrick set the patient’s file on the coffee table and nodded. “Sure. It’s not cold enough for a fire, you know.”

And I wear all your old clothes, your polo sweater

Robin smiled faintly. “It’s not for warmth. I’m just getting rid of some things.” She lit the match and tossed it into the fireplace. She sighed when it didn’t catch hold.

“Obviously, you’ve never set the mood before,” Patrick said. He took the matches from her. “First you need some douse the firewood with some gasoline or accelerant so the flames will catch hold.”

Robin frowned and then stared at her half full glass of wine. Patrick followed her stare and then looked at the half-empty bottle of wine. The scene was beginning to come together for him.

Robin tossed the wine onto the firewood. “Will that work, you think?”

Wordlessly, Patrick struck another match and tossed it into the fireplace. This time the flames caught hold and ignited. Robin sank to her knees and reached for the first photo to toss in.

Patrick kneeled across from her and stopped her. “Robin—what happened?”

I dream of another you

“Nothing.” Robin tugged her hand from his grasp and tossed the photo in. They both watched the flames eat away at Robert Scorpio’s handsome face as he was dressed in a suit for his best friend Luke Spencer’s wedding.

“Yeah, I’ll believe that.” Patrick watched as she tossed another photo in, this time one of a very young girl and Robert. He surmised the girl was Robin. When she went for a third photo, he took her hand. “Why burn them?”

“Because these are just memories,” Robin said softly. “Memories of a man I made up in my head.” She tossed the third one in. “My father came back.”

The one who would never (never)
Leave me alone to pick up the pieces

Duh, Patrick wanted to say but he refrained. He wasn’t one for emotional conversations but Robin had stood by him when his father was at death’s door, he could attempt at least to do the same for her. “I guess it didn’t go well.”

“You’re right.” Robin reached for the bottle of wine and poured herself another glass. “But you’re always right, aren’t you?”

Not falling the easy trap, Patrick didn’t answer. “What happened?”

“He was never going to tell me.” Robin tossed half the glass back in one gulp. “Never going to tell me he was back. He was going to get Luke and then take off again.”

Not for the first time, Patrick wished he could put Robert Scorpio through a wall. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Robin took another photo, again of herself and her father. “He just confirmed what I’ve suspected all along.”

He watched her toss the photo in before asking, “What’s that?”

“I used to think I was just a poor judge of character,” Robin said instead. “That Sonny couldn’t stand by me because he was wrong or that Jason couldn’t love me enough because something was wrong with him. But now I know it’s not the people in my life.” Her empty eyes met his. “The lack is in me.”

A daddy to hold me, that’s what I needed

“No,” Patrick denied immediately. “Sonny and Jason are just idiots and your father sucks, Robin, but there is nothing wrong with you.”

She smiled, a twisted bitter smile. “It’s nice of you to say so but it’s okay because I understand now.” Another photo was eaten by the flames and the air in the apartment was beginning to smell acrid. “My mother loves me, I know that. But not quite enough to give up her adventurous life style.”

Another photo.

“Jason loved me, but never quite enough to stop sleeping with Carly or stop choosing her over me.”

Another photo.

“Sonny loved me, but only until I broke his rules to live by.”

Another photo.

“But my father—” Robin shook her head. “I thought I could always believe in that, always believe that when all else failed, I had my father’s love.”

She picked up a photo of herself and her father, taken shortly before the boat explosion. “But it seems I didn’t even have that.”

So why’d you have to go

He was out of his element here, he had no idea how to handle a woman in the midst of an emotional crisis, he’d never let himself get that close before. But it was beginning to dawn on Patrick that whatever he had with Robin was going to be completely different than what had come before.

“You have your uncle,” Patrick pointed out.

Robin sighed. “I do have my uncle. He’s my rock, the one person in my whole life I’ve ever been able to depend on.” She went to throw in another photo but Patrick took her hand.

“You’re upset right now but you shouldn’t burn anymore. You’ll only be sorry for it later.”

Robin shook her head. “No, I’ll be glad for it. I’ve been dragging this stupid box around for fifteen years because it was all I had of my parents, of our lives together. I thought what was inside was real, that it meant something to them—to him.” She ripped a photo in half and heaved them into the fire. “When I found my mother alive, I knew I’d been granted a miracle but I never once imagined my father was still alive too.”

“Why? I mean, wouldn’t it have been a logical assumption?”

She focused on him and the heartbreak in her eyes nearly broke him. “Because he loved me and he would have come back if he was alive. He never came back, so he was dead.”

Why’d you have to go

And then Robert Scorpio had shown up, alive and well without a trace of the amnesia that kept her mother from her. He could only imagine how that would have crushed her.

Before Robin could take another gulp of the wine, Patrick nipped the glass from her fingers and set it on the coffee table behind them. “Come here.”

Robin rolled her eyes but was too tired to fight Patrick as he pulled her towards him and set her in his lap. “I’m not that drunk,” she quipped.

“Ah, there’s the Dr. Scorpio I know and love,” Patrick returned. “Relax, no funny business.” He took a deep breath. “When my mother died and my father drowned himself in alcohol, I put away all the pictures of my parents. I put them in a box, like you, and I put them on a shelf. I took the box with me when I went to medical school and I would probably have them now if I hadn’t burned them one day.”

Robin closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest, she could feel his heart beating through his shirt. She felt safe and protected in his embrace and she wondered absently if she could stay here forever. “Why’d you burn them?”

“Because my father showed up to my med school graduation drunk and made a fool out of himself and of me.”

Why’d you have to go

There was a long silence and Robin swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“I was so angry at him for destroying that day, a day that my mother had been waiting for her whole life and never got to see.” He cleared his throat and forced himself to go on. “I was angry at him for destroying the memory I’d had of him until my mother died—the strong doctor who never let anything fail him. He was my hero, Robin, and I felt betrayed when he proved himself to be anything but.”

The parallels in their situations were so strong that Robin was quiet for a long moment. “My father didn’t know about me until I was seven but once he did know, he made all my dreams come true. He was a wonderful father, he was so funny and he was kind and he made me smile all the time. He made me feel safe and loved. And I thought that he would always feel that way to me.”

Daughter to father, daughter to father
I don’t know you, but I still want to

“You opened my eyes and made me see my father for the flawed person that he is,” Patrick said. “Because of you, I started to understand how my father could have lost himself after my mother died and because of you, I know that I don’t have to lose out on having my dad around for the rest of my life. People make mistakes, Robin, and they’re not infallible.”

She smiled, he felt the movement of her lips against his chest. “It’s not fair using that against me.”

“Since when do I play fair?” Patrick replied lightly.

“I’m more angry at my father for taking that memory of him away than I am at him for not coming back,” Robin admitted. “I’m angry that the way I remember my father isn’t the way he is now and that it’s likely that I’m still seeing him through the eyes of a seven year old girl who’d always wanted a father.”

“It’s hard not to measure up to how people want to see us,” Patrick said after a moment. “Knowing that you could never be what they need to you to be, no matter how much you want to.”

Robin didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Are you just talking about my father?” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” Patrick admitted. “But that’s another topic for a different time. Robin, your father has his reasons for doing what he did. You can’t change them and you can’t go back in time to when he was your hero. But he’s alive now. I’d give anything to be able to see my mother again, to talk to her, even if she had played dead for the last decade.”

Robin exhaled shakily and he could feel her tears, warm and wet on his shirt. “I’m sorry, I must seem so awful. I’m lucky, I know I am. I got my parents back and that doesn’t happen to everyone and instead of being happy and grateful, I’m being ridiculous and pitying myself—”

“That’s not true,” Patrick said. “And even if it were, there’s no handbook for how you have to feel. You get to do whatever you want. You want to be angry, be angry. Be happy, be sad, but don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not allowed to feel that way.”

“Careful, Dr. Drake,” Robin said softly. “I might begin to think there’s a heart beneath the lothario exterior.”

“There wasn’t before you.”

Daughter to father, daughter to father
Tell me the truth, did you ever love me

Flustered, Robin extricated herself from Patrick’s arms and started to gather the photos together again. “I should put these in an album or something,” she said. “And—you’re right. I’m upset right now and I’ll kick myself for burning these later.” She smiled though. “He did love me once. Even if it’s not true now, he loved me once and that’s—that’s enough.”

“He still loves you, Robin,” Patrick said hesitantly. “He just doesn’t know how to show it. You don’t make it easy on a man to tell you how he feels.”

Robin met his eyes, startled but looked away almost immediately. She wasn’t ready for what was reflected back at her. She shoved a pile of photos into the cardboard box. “Thank you for this, Patrick. I—thank you.”

“Will you talk to your father?” Patrick asked.

She hesitated and glanced towards the phone. “I could call him, I guess.” She chewed on her lower lip. “He gave me his cell phone number before he left the first time.”

“You should call him,” Patrick advised. “You have a second chance, it’d be a shame to blow it.”

Cause these are, these are
The confessions of a broken heart

Later, after Patrick had gone and Robin had put the box back in her closet, she hesitantly dialed the number Robert had pressed in her hand the day he’d left the hospital two months ago.

“Scorpio.”

I love you,

Robin smiled briefly. He still answered the phone the same way. “Dad?”

Robert’s voice changed. “Robin—I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“I’m angry at you, I don’t know how to change that,” Robin began painfully. “But I want to.”

I love you

“I’m sorry, Robin. I wish there were words—but the way you found out, it was not what I wanted. I thought a thousand times how it should go but that wasn’t it.”

I love you

Robin nodded, but he couldn’t see her. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

I, I love you

“‘The biggest reason I’m angry is because I have to see you as an adult now and not just as my dad. As a human who makes mistakes and makes decision I don’t agree with. Part of me—part of me just wants you to be the hero I knew when I was a kid.”

Daughter to father, daughter to father
I don’t know you, but I still want to

“And I wish I could be that for you, sweetheart. I wish that more than anything in the world.”

“Will you come and see me?” Robin asked hesitantly. “When you get your case wrapped up?”

Daughter to father, daughter to father
Tell me the truth

“The very second it’s over, I’ll book a plane ticket,” Robert promised. “And I’ll take a real leave of absence. Robin, I love you. I want you to know that, even if you don’t believe it.”

She didn’t believe it but maybe she would one day.

“I love you, too, Dad,” she answered softly.

Did you ever love me
Did you ever love me

“I have to go now, but I’ll call you again. And we’ll talk right?” Robert said.

“Yeah, call me again and I promise to answer this time,” Robin replied.

These are
The confessions of a broken heart

When Robert Scorpio stepped out of the gate three months later to visit Robin, this time, they had the reunion he’d wanted. She flew into his arms and he picked her up off the ground and twirled in her in a circle before setting her back on her feet. “You look well rested,” he said. He touched her tanned face.

Robin bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder where Patrick waited for them. “I just came back from a weekend at Martha’s Vineyard.”

Robert narrowed his eyes. “Oh, really,” he remarked with deliberate irritation.

Because she’d secretly dreamed of how Robert would have treated Stone and Jason, Robin giggled. She’d always wanted to bring her boyfriend home to her father.

“I’m glad you came,” Robin said softly.

“I’m glad you called,” Robert answered. He kissed her forehead, picked up his duffle. “Let’s go meet Dr. Drake.”

I wait for the postman to bring me a letter

Timeline

This is set in the summer of 2004, after Elizabeth had left Port Charles to have Cameron. On the show, she abruptly left Ric in April of 2004 when she overheard him taunting Sonny about being the better man and raising another man’s child. She decided that this was the last straw (yeah — this and not the other bullshit) and left. Rebecca Herbst was on maternity leave for about two months. When she returned, they’d closed off the Ric storyline. They divorced and didn’t revisit a romance for about a decade.

As for Jason, he was in flux at that point. His marriage to Courtney was on the rocks (they’d separated and she’d filed for divorce), but he hadn’t yet moved on to Sam.

Inspiration

I’m pretty sure that I wrote this while she was on the maternity leave. I know that I heard the song by Melissa Etheridge and wanted to write it. I hope you like it.

Banner Here

It’d been six months since she’d left Port Charles and in that time, she hadn’t been in contact with anyone she’d left behind. She’d preferred it that way and after her divorce came through—she quietly moved across country where her ex-husband would never find her. She rented a post office box in Nebraska for the alimony payments and once a week all the mail in that box was forwarded to her new home.

Whatever Ric’s faults had been, his alimony was generous and he even paid child support so Elizabeth Webber Lansing had bought a small home with two bedrooms—and a backyard. She’d never live in another apartment, she promised herself.

Her baby was four months old—a little girl she’d named Emma Audrey. Emily Audrey had been her first choice but the name had sounded slightly awkward to her ears and Emma had been the final decision.

She’d cut off all ties with her previous home and she thought that everyone else there had forgotten about her.

Which is why it surprised her when she caught a glimpse of Jason Morgan in San Diego.

I played the fool today

She decided it was a coincidence—that Jason was not looking for her and if anyone would look for her, it would not be her somewhat ex-boyfriend. It’d be Lucky or Emily.

She concluded that if it had been Jason—and she wasn’t even sure of that—he did not know that she lived in San Diego and even if he did—she wasn’t sure why he’d care enough to know, anyway—it would not matter to him.

And I just dream of vanishing into the crowd

Jason was there to find her, though. Emily was getting married—not to Nikolas as everyone had expected—but to Lucky Spencer and the only thing Emily wanted for her wedding was for Elizabeth to be her maid of honor.

Jason promised to bring her home. For his sister, for Elizabeth’s grandmother—for himself.

It hadn’t been difficult to get the address of the post office where Ric sent a monthly check. Once he’d located the post office in Nebraska, he’d paid handsomely for the information of Elizabeth’s current location.

It hadn’t been more than seventy-hours since he’d left Port Charles and he was standing in front of Elizabeth’s home, watching her sit on a blanket on her lawn with the baby cradled in her arms.

Longing for home again

She’d changed in the six months since she’d left—becoming a mother was just one of those changes. Her hair was longer—curlier than he remembered. Almost as curly as those days he’d spent in her studio healing from the gunshot wound. Had it been almost six years since that time?

She hadn’t lost all of the weight from the pregnancy but he didn’t think it looked to bad on her, actually. She had always been beautiful but being a mother had added something extra to that.

He didn’t call out to her at first—he knew that she’d left Port Charles to escape memories and no matter how much Emily wanted her home, he would not disturb her if she were happy here—happy being away from the misery her life there had given her.

But home is a feeling I buried in you

“Are you cold, Emma?” Elizabeth cooed. She tucked the pink blanket in more tightly around the squirming baby. “I can’t believe how fast the summer has gone. Before you know it, I’ll be decorating for Halloween. I found the cutest kitten costume for you.”

As if actually understanding her mother, Emma cooed and kicked her legs. “And then it’ll be Christmas. I used to have lots of Christmas decorations—but I had to leave those behind so we’ll be buying new ones and we’ll get a tree and you can pick what I’ll put on a top. A star or—an angel.” She held Emma up and smiled as Emma giggled. “Which would you rather have?”

“An angel’s supposed to watch over things.”

He didn’t know he’d actually spoken until she lowered Emma into her baby carrier and looked at him. Whether or not she was surprised at his presence, her face never changed.

I’m all right, I’m all right

“Jason. I didn’t think you knew where I was.”

He strode across the grass then and sat on the edge of the blanket, regretting the way the light had gone from her eyes with his arrival. “It wasn’t so hard to find you—once I found the PO Box in Lincoln.”

“I don’t want Ric to know where I am,” Elizabeth admitted. She started to put Emma’s various toys into her diaper bag. “It’s easier that way. Each check he sends, he sends with it a letter asking me to come back.”

“And you don’t plan on going back?”

“Not to him.”

“But you’d consider coming back?”

She looked up at him and frowned. “Why are you here, Jason? Why would you to go the trouble of finding me?”

It only hurts when I breathe

“Emily wants you to come home. She’s getting married and she wants you to be her maid of honor,” Jason informed her.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “She’s getting married? But—it’s so soon after Nikolas died—”

Jason sighed and looked away. “I didn’t realize—you left before—he’s not dead, Elizabeth.”

“He’s not?” Elizabeth asked, startled. She pressed her lips together firmly. “Don’t know why that doesn’t surprise me as much as it ought to. No one in Port Charles stays dead. Not Lucky, not Brenda Barrett, not Nikolas—not Sonny.” She shrugged and zipped the diaper bag shut. “So she and Nikolas are getting married.”

“Nikolas fell in love with someone else. He had amnesia and when he finally got his memory back—he went back to Emily but the woman who’d taken care of him—he loved her.”

“That must have devastated Emily.”

“By the time Nikolas returned, Emily had moved past her grief and she was already—moving on in a sense.” Jason hesitated. “She’d changed while he was gone and neither of them were the people they’d been when they’d fallen love.”

I can’t ask for things to be still again

“I can understand that. Who is she marrying?”

“Lucky.” Jason shifted. “It’s in a few months—you wouldn’t have to decide right away but she wants you there and the only thing she wanted from me as wedding gift—was to find you.”

“I wish I could,” Elizabeth said softly. She held her finger out to Emma who curled her tiny hand around it. “But I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to return to Port Charles.”

“Ric would not be a problem for you—I’d see to that personally,” Jason pledged.

“It’s not Ric I’m worrying about. I can handle the letters he sends—because he’s been generous with alimony and child support and I don’t have to work. I can spend all my time with Emma.”

“Emma,” Jason repeated. He glanced at Elizabeth’s daughter who was studying him with her open brand of curiosity. The baby was tiny with creamy skin, wide blue eyes and light brown—almost blonde—hair. “She’s beautiful.”

“I wanted to name her Emily but the name didn’t go well with her middle name,” Elizabeth explained. “Emma Audrey Webber.”

“So if it’s not Ric you’re worried about—then what is it?”

I can’t ask if I could walk through the world in your eyes

“Old memories,” Elizabeth said briefly. She stood and swung the diaper bag over her shoulder before lifting Emma’s carrier into her arms. “Go home, Jason. Tell Emily that I love her and I wish her all the happiness in the world. But I can’t go back there.”

She turned towards the door and was almost there when he called out to her. She glanced over her shoulder. “What are you scared of?” he demanded.

Elizabeth pursed her lips and sighed. “Grab the blanket and come inside. The least I can do is feed you before you leave.”

Longing for home again

She put Emma down for her nap and beckoned Jason to join her in the kitchen. “I don’t have any beer—”

“Elizabeth, I don’t need—” He broke off. “Why won’t you come home?”

“This is my home now,” Elizabeth murmured. She started making two sandwiches—one pastrami and the other a simple bologna and cheese. “I worked hard to make this my home and I can’t—I can’t risk it.”

“Can’t risk what?” Jason leaned against the Formica counter and frowned at her. “Where’s the risk in going to her wedding?”

“Because I don’t like who I am in Port Charles,” Elizabeth said simply. “And you can’t change my mind about it. Give Emily my address and phone number if you like—I’d like to keep in touch with her. But please don’t think you can talk me out of staying here.”

He sighed heavily. “Elizabeth—”

“I’m finished talking about it.” She shoved the pastrami sandwich towards him. “It’s not as good as Kelly’s but it’ll do.” She hesitated. “So—I know what Emily, Lucky and Nikolas are doing. How about you?”

But home is a feeling I buried in you

“I’m divorced, too,” Jason offered. “We got divorced in April—around the time you left, actually. Courtney left town—she and Sonny had this—.argument and they don’t talk anymore.”

“That’s too bad.” Elizabeth shifted. “Sonny and Carly get back together?”

“No—they actually signed divorce papers,” Jason informed her. “Carly’s gone, too. She and Alcazar—they imploded and he’s—” he hesitated. “Gone,” he finally said. “Carly’s living in Florida—with Courtney actually.”

“Sonny?” Elizabeth asked. “Does he still see his boys?”

“Not as often as he’d like but yeah—he’s engaged to Sam.” Jason grimaced. “Not sure if I like that.”

I’m all right, I’m all right

Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, why not? I always liked her.”

“She talks a lot,” Jason said simply. “Too much—and she’s always asking me advice about Sonny. If she should do this, or do that—I know she wants to make him happy and all but—it’s just—irritating.”

“So—basically—you just listen to Sam talk, you work and you talk to Emily.” Elizabeth nodded. “Sounds—like you’re okay.”

He shrugged. “It makes the day go by faster. What about you? Is it just you and Emma?”

“If you’re asking if there’s someone in my life—no. No guys, no friends—I don’t need anyone else but Emma.”

“Why?” he asked bluntly.

“Because I had friends once—I had someone that I loved and it brought me nothing but pain. I left Port Charles to keep that from happening again and I just—I’m not interested in doing all of that again.”

It only hurts when I breathe

He sighed and pushed his plate away. “When I said I was here on Emily’s behalf—that was partially true.”

“Then what’s the rest of it?” Elizabeth asked briskly.

“I had to see for myself that you were okay.” He exhaled slowly. “Six months and no word—I’ve never gone that long without knowing.”

She frowned. “You were gone for a while year—”

“But I could ask Sonny if you were okay or Emily or hell, even Alexis. I knew when you faked your death, when you had your accident—about your wedding with Lucky—I was never out of touch with someone back home so six months was a long time.”

She stared at him. “I didn’t realize you’d thought of me so often.”

“All the time,” he admitted. He rounded the counter and stood in front of her. “I should have told you some of this when I came home the last time.”

I’m all right, I’m all right

“It would only have hurt me worse if I’d known,” Elizabeth said softly. “Because at least then—I could believe you didn’t care.”

“And thinking that I didn’t care hurts less than knowing that I do?” he asked—a little baffled.

“Because if you didn’t care—I wasn’t losing anything.” Her voice was shaky now and she hated him for doing this. For coming into her clean and private world and shaking it around—making her feel—making her remember. “Because if you didn’t care—losing you wouldn’t destroy me and—it didn’t. Because I knew I didn’t matter.”

He shook his head sharply. “No—that’s just not true. You did matter—you still matter—”

“No—I’m not doing this.” She turned away from him and left the kitchen. He followed her into the living room. “I want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving.”

It only hurts when I breathe

“Why?” Elizabeth spun around and jabbed a finger in his chest. “Why now? When I’m away from it all—when I’ve put it all behind me? Why do you do this now instead of five seconds after I walked out that door?”

“Because I didn’t think you cared anymore and if you didn’t care then I wasn’t losing anything.” Her own words were spit back in her face—and oh, how they stung.

“That’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not,” Jason agreed. “It wasn’t fair to feel that way then and it’s still not fair that we both feel that way now. When I came home that last time—I came home for you.”

My window through which nothing hides

She paled and stepped away. “No—that’s not true—you came home for Sonny—”

“I knew you weren’t with Lucky anymore and I thought enough time had passed that you were over him but you weren’t. And I’d already waited for two years—I didn’t think a few more months would change anything.”

“Jason—this is ridiculous—why are we rehashing things that happened two years ago? We had our chance and whatever was between us—it wasn’t enough to survive. You married Courtney. I married Ric. You have no right to come here and pretend like it’s the morning after I walked out on you—”

“I didn’t intend to say any of these things but I thought you should know the truth. I married Courtney, yes. But she didn’t understand me. She didn’t get me half as much as you did. She called the cops on her own brother and knocked me out to save Alcazar.”

“She did what?” Elizabeth asked, stunned. “Why would Courtney be anywhere near—how could you let her that close to a job?” she demanded. “Do the two of you have any sense?”

“Elizabeth—you are the only woman in my life who has never betrayed me and I think I finally figured out why that is.”

“Because I have the common sense that God gave a mule?” Elizabeth said dryly. “Jason—I don’t—”

“Because you know me and you know what would hurt me and you would never do anything to hurt me deliberately just like I would never do anything to hurt you deliberately.”

“That’s not true—Jason, you’re not being very clear here—”

And everything sings

“Do you remember the way we used to be?” Jason interrupted. His voice had changed—it was quiet now. “When we were in the studio and it was just the two of us.”

“We work when we’re alone—but other people screw it up,” Elizabeth said. She backed up from him and turned away.

“I felt safe there and I thought it was because no one knew I was there. But that wasn’t it at all. And when you were at the penthouse, it felt like a home to me.”

She turned back then, her guard down a little—her eyes wary. “It did?”

“But it was never the studio that made me feel safe or the penthouse that felt like home—it was you.”

‘Cause I’m counting the signs

“Jason—” Elizabeth trailed off uncertain. “I don’t know what you want from me—”

“I want you to tell me why you won’t come home,” he challenged.

“I told you.”

He stepped towards. “And this time—I want you to be honest with me.”

“It hurts,” Elizabeth whispered. “It hurts to be around you. It always has—but I thought I could make it okay—that if I could have your friendship—”

Cursing the miles in between

“Are we just friends?” Jason interrupted, “or do you want something more from me?”

She stared at him for a moment before answering. “Yeah—yeah, I do,” she breathed.

“Then come home. Just for a little while—just for Emily’s wedding.”

“What about after that?” Elizabeth asked cautiously.

Home is a feeling I buried in you

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “But I know that I don’t want to go another six months without seeing you.” He held a hand out to her. “Come home.”

I’m all right, I’m all right

“All right,” Elizabeth agreed, hesitantly. She took his hand and smiled faintly as he held it tightly. “I’ll come home.”

It only hurts when I breathe

+13

Author Archives: Melissa

January 29, 2014

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January 27, 2014

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