You only see what your eyes want to see
How can life be what you want it to be
You’re frozen
When your heart’s not open
You’re so consumed with how much you get
You waste your time with hate and regret
You’re broken
When your heart’s not open
– Frozen, Madonna

---

Saturday, January 15, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“You know, I could get used to this,” Elizabeth decided as Jason carried her towards the sofa. “But it would probably be harder to serve chili if you were always carrying me everywhere.”

Jason laughed, carefully lowering her to the cushions, making sure he didn’t brush her feet up against anything. The cuts and scrapes looked better this morning, but she hadn’t been able to put any weight on them. Hopefully by the time Monday rolled around—

Jason disappeared into the kitchen and emerged a little while later with coffee in one hand and a hot chocolate in the other. “Here—”

“Thank you.” He sat next to her, and she brushed her fingertips under his cheek where there was still a small cut and bruise from whatever he had hit his head on the night before. “How’s your head? You were out for so long—”

“It’s fine. I’ve got a hard head.” Jason caught her hand and kissed it. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Okay, well that’s not going to happen.” She studied the rapidly melting whipped cream as it sunk into the dark chocolate. “Um, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about but I don’t really know…how.”

Jason stretched his arm across the back of the sofa, angling his body towards her. “You can talk to me about anything. You know that.”

“I do. It’s—” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Last night. Um, we didn’t—” Her cheeks heated and she looked away. “We didn’t use anything.” She glanced up quickly to see his smile fade.

“No. We—” He grimaced, sat up and set his coffee on the table. “I’m sorry—”

“I didn’t—I didn’t bring that up because you did anything wrong. And it’s—last night wasn’t like the other times, so it’s fine—”

“It’s not—”

“Hey.” Elizabeth felt suddenly at ease with the conversation—maybe because Jason seemed flustered, and it made her feel better. “It’s both of us, right? Just because you have more experience—and it’s okay. I just—want us to be careful. I thought, on Monday, I could make an appointment and go on the pill.” She paused. “So, you know, we can be spontaneous and all.”

“I—” Jason scratched the end of his brow with his thumb. “I’m usually—I haven’t been with anyone since Robin,” he said suddenly, and she frowned. “You don’t have to worry—”

“No, and I wasn’t. Jason, it’s just something that happened, and I don’t want to be stupid about it, you know? So we’ll just be more careful until I’m good, and then we can do what we want when we want.”

“What if—” Jason made a face, then forced out the rest of it. “What if it’s—I mean, is it the wrong time? I—”

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was asking. “Oh. Um. No, we’re probably okay.” Probably.

“What if it’s not?”

Oh, God, wasn’t that a thought? She tightened her hands around the mug. “Then we deal with that, I guess, but there’s no point in worrying about it until we have to.” She saw the question in his eyes and realized he wouldn’t ask it. “And by deal with it, I guess we’d talk about what it meant. I, um, guess you probably want kids. Right? Or at least one. After—I mean you were such—I’m sorry.” Elizabeth shook her head. “We don’t have to talk about it.” They’d barely been together for three weeks—but then again, they’d been married for nearly the entirety of their relationship— you had to start talking about these kinds of conversations when you got married—this is why you didn’t just drift into marriage—

“I hadn’t let myself think about it,” Jason said finally. He sat back again, reached for one of her hands. “But, I guess, yeah. I’d want to.” His eyes searched hers. “But you don’t.”

“Not yet. No. I just—there’s so much I want to see and to do, and I know that kids don’t have to slow you down, but I always wondered if maybe my mom felt like that — you know, if she had done all the things she wanted to do before she had me or my sister, would she have…” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “But maybe one day. I guess.” It was the first time she felt the age difference between them. He was seven years older than her, and maybe he wouldn’t want to wait around three or four years until she wanted to have kids—and what if she didn’t want them then—

“I get that. And you know, talking with your grandmother last week — I thought about the places I’ve read about. I always thought I’d go one day, but I never did. I’ve been to the Caribbean for Sonny. And South America. Paris. But there’s a lot more out there.” He tipped his head. “I don’t blame you for wanting to wait to have kids. You’re…I mean we don’t talk about it, but you’re eighteen—” His mouth tightened, and he hesitated. “I don’t—I only really remember the last four years, so I don’t notice it. But—”

“Four years of being an adult,” Elizabeth said, and he nodded. “Yeah, I get it. It’s not that I don’t want them. I just…know there’s a lot more I want to do first. And I don’t want to ever be my mother, looking at a baby, and thinking of all the opportunities they cost me—”

“That wouldn’t be you,” he told her softly. “Hey. Can you look at me?”

She met his eyes. “It might.”

“No, it wouldn’t. You wouldn’t punish a child who never asked to be here in the first place,” he told her. “You know what’s it like. You’d never do that.”

“Yeah. I guess not.” She took a deep breath, then swiped at her eyes. “Why are we even talking about this?”

“Because we were irresponsible last night. It’s my fault—” She opened her mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “It is. And we both agree now isn’t a good time, so we’re on the same page.” He leaned forward, kissed her gently. “The rest can wait, okay?”

“Okay.” Elizabeth nodded. “I’ll make the appointment, and we won’t be stupid again.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He stroked her leg, then got to his feet. “I have to make a few calls. I want to check on Max. You want something to eat?”

“Yeah. I’m actually starving,” she admitted. “I didn’t eat much last night at dinner. Too nervous.”

“I’ll be back.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Bobbie set down her purse and smiled at Tammy. “Hey. How’s business this morning?”

“Not bad, not bad.” Tammy handed her the receipts and the accounting book. “We’re going to need to advertise for another full-time waitress,” she told Bobbie.

Bobbie frowned, tipped her head. “Are we losing someone?”

“I haven’t heard back officially, but—” Tammy checked the coffee pots, eying the levels in each. “I imagine Elizabeth will be giving her notice soon. Her classes start this week, and I can’t see her balancing work, classes, her art, and a new marriage—”

Bobbie set down her pencil. “She’s managed before—”

“Oh. Well, yeah, but it’s different now, and I want to see her spend a bit more time on herself, you know?” The pretty blonde focused on Bobbie. “What, you don’t think so?”

“I just—I’d hate to see her give up her job without a better plan. She’s, uh, well, a lot of marriages end in divorce the first year.” She grimaced. “And I should know that they end in divorce even after the first year.”

“There’s a point, but it’s not like she’s married to the local idiot at the dive bar.” Tammy frowned. “I thought you liked Jason. You don’t think they got what it takes?”

“I think,” Bobbie said carefully, thinking of the conversation she’d had with her daughter a few days earlier, “that even the best relationships can hit a bump in the road. I do like Jason, but Elizabeth’s awfully young—”

“That gave me pause, I’ll tell ya,” Tammy said. She planted one hand on her hip, the other on the counter. “But the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. I mean, on one hand, I’d love to see her go out and have a wild couple of years. I think maybe she’d benefit from it. But who’s to say she can’t still have that? It’s not like Jason Morgan’s the sedate kind of guy. She was just talking the other day about plans they got to go traveling this summer—another reason I think she’s considering her two-week notice.”

“Traveling?”

“Oh, yeah. And man, I’m a bit envious. They’re both young. He’s got money and she’s got a list of all these places she wants to see for the art. And apparently he wants to go to Egypt.” Tammy grinned. “It was nice, listening to her. She sounded excited. And she’s had too much tragedy in her life.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“He’s good for her. And she’s good for him. Makes him smile. Keeps him light. Don’t you think?”

“I had trouble adjusting to the idea,” Bobbie admitted. “Because it was supposed to be my nephew for Elizabeth. And maybe it was harder to let go of that than I thought.” And it still took her breath away sometimes to think of the bright, brash, vibrant life lost. Oh, where Lucky might have gone in life if he’d just had the chance?

Where would her BJ have gone?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. I just—I wasn’t even talking about losing Lucky, though, yeah. I was talking about what happened to her before.” Tammy paused. “Lucky came to visit me once when I was still walking the streets.”

Bobbie blinked. “What?”

“Sweetest thing. He was starting to have feelings for Elizabeth and wanted to make them go away. Because of what she’d been through,” Tammy continued. “He didn’t want to hurt or scare her. I sent him away, of course. He was underage for one thing, and for another, I think it might have helped her to see a life past what happened to her.”

“That’s certainly true.” Bobbie exhaled slowly. “I just worry. There’s so much out there they don’t know about yet. And so much that could go wrong.” So much damage Carly could do with a child that was biologically Jason’s, which was what Bobbie feared was happening. Carly might be content to let the situation lie for now but she wouldn’t forever. Bobbie didn’t want to see Elizabeth walk Robin’s path.

“That’s true for anyone, Bobbie. I think they’ll surprise you. But, like I said, I just want to be ready when she gives notice.”

“Yes, of course.” Bobbie put her things back into her purse. “You know, I’ll take the books with me today, Tammy. I have somewhere to be.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason brought out another mug of hot chocolate and a bagel, along with a new cup of coffee for himself. “I made some calls,” he told her, “And I figured you’d want to know that Max is recovering.” He settled himself back on the sofa, draping her legs over his lap. “Doc says it’ll be a full recovery. He got lucky.”

“Good.”

They didn’t talk about it again until she’d finished her food and set the empty plate on the coffee table, but she could tell his mind was somewhere else. On their conversation earlier? She hoped not.

“About last night—” Jason said, then broke off. “Not that—I mean, at the restaurant. The limo—I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth frowned. “For what?”

He traced the edges of her knee through her sweatpants, not meeting her eyes. “It was my fault.”

“Jason—”

“I want to blame Sonny. I do,” he added, “but he’s not the reason last night happened.” Jason cleared his throat. “I didn’t check the car.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, taking in Jason’s words. Remembering the night before as he’d hustled her out of the club and into the waiting limo. “You mean to make sure it was Max driving.”

“Yeah. If I’d done that—if I’d done the sweep I’m supposed to do—” Now Jason met her eyes. “That’s what happened to Lily, you know. They were celebrating at Luke’s and Sonny had too much to drink. She took the keys. They hadn’t brought any guards, but Sonny would have checked the car. He was too tipsy, and so no one checked. And Lily died.”

And so had Sonny’s unborn child.

“I didn’t do a bomb sweep,” Jason muttered. “I didn’t check the driver. I didn’t do anything. I just want you out of that restaurant. Away from all those people.”

“Away from Sorel.”

“Yeah.”

She exhaled slowly. “You know that’s why he cut into the dance.” Jason frowned, met her eyes. “Well, I mean, other than to be an ass. He had to know it would irritate you. He waited until we were supposed to leave, and got you mad.”

“And I got careless,” he bit out. He shoved himself to his feet, careful not to jostle her. “I let my anger take over. You could have died. You almost did.” He stalked over to the balcony doors, staring out into the gloomy and overcast January morning.

“You almost did, too,” Elizabeth pointed out. She set her feet down, wincing as she stood and hobbled over to him. “On the trail—”

Jason turned, scowling to find her standing behind him. “You should be—”

“I’m fine—” Elizabeth put her hands on his forearms as they reached out to her. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you. I was scared last night. We’ve already talked about it, and I’m not interested in rehashing it. It happened, and I was scared. And it’s not going to do either of us any good to pretend you’re not right.” She took a deep breath. “You made a mistake. Letting Sorel to get you like that. Not checking the car.”

Jason fell silent, his expression stony, his body tense.

“But I made mistakes, too. I didn’t ask about things going wrong. I didn’t ask about security protocol. Not all of it. I know now that cars should be swept. Checked for drivers.” Elizabeth paused. “I’m new at this, and I’m not always going to get it right—”

“None of this is your fault—”

“If you get to take responsibility for what you did wrong, then I get to take it, too. I was so relieved to be out of there, I didn’t think either. But it makes sense. We just got into the car that was outside because Sonny told us it would be there. We’re both smarter than that, Jason. But Sorel annoyed us.” She tightened her hands on his arms. “So we learn from those mistakes, right? We get to be grateful that we get another chance.”

The tension eased from his body then, and Jason sighed, meeting her eyes. “I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away,” he admitted.

“I’d blame me. I knew who you were, Jason, when we got into this. When I signed that marriage license—nothing here is new.” She made a face. “Except that you were right. I shouldn’t be standing.”

Jason scowled, then scooped her into his arms to take her back to the sofa. “I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, settling back against the pillow. There was a knock at the door, and she sighed, letting her head fall back. He went to answer it.

Jason’s scowl deepened when he found Sonny on the other side. “What?”

“Uh, I wanted to see how Elizabeth was feeling this morning—” Sonny tipped his head around to look at Elizabeth. “Her feet looked pretty bad—”

“She’s fine.”

“Jason—”

“I don’t want to deal with this right now,” Jason told him, his fingers gripping the edge of the door tightly. “Because last night was my fault, too.”

“Jase—”

“You put us in the middle of everything, but I’m the one that put her in the car.” Jason lifted his chin. “We tried dealing with Sorel your way. Now we’re going to do it mine.”

“Yeah—”

“I want a meeting,” Jason cut in again. “Tell me when it’s scheduled.” Then he closed the door and went back to Elizabeth.

A little while later, there was another knock which Jason saw almost as a relief since they were both starting to get bored by watching television. He hoped it wasn’t Sonny, but he definitely wasn’t expecting—

“Bobbie.”

“Do you have a minute?” Bobbie asked. Jason nodded and let her enter. Bobbie hesitated, spying Elizabeth on the sofa, her feet bandaged. “What happened?”

“Broke a glass last night and sliced up my feet.” Elizabeth shrugged. “You know I’m a klutz.”

Bobbie pursed her lips, then turned back to Jason. “I don’t know if you’ve heard about Carly—”

“About her being pregnant?” Jason wanted to know. He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. Emily said something.”

“I—” Bobbie cleared her throat. “I debated whether I even wanted to do this. If Carly was right, and I should leave well enough alone. It’s better the way things are,” she continued. “Michael gets to have his parents, and you get to move on.”

“Bobbie—” Jason began, his brow furrowed.

She turned away from him to Elizabeth, who was also frowning. “And I wouldn’t want to hurt you for the world. But I can’t go through this again. I can’t hold this in and wait for another grandchild’s life to get blown up in a year or two.” She turned back to Jason. “You need to tell AJ he’s not the father.”

Jason frowned. “I don’t—”

“And you need to step up. I know it might hurt Michael in the short-term, but it’s the right decision for the truth to come out. It always does,” Bobbie added. “Demand a paternity test, tell AJ it might be yours. I don’t know. But we can’t just pretend. You can’t do this again, Jason.”

Jason closed his mouth, a bit helpless. Bobbie thought that he was the father? How— He glanced at Elizabeth who had dropped her eyes, staring at her lap. If he told Bobbie there wasn’t a chance it was his, would she believe him? Would she keep investigating? Damn it—

“I’m not going to say anything. Not right now. I know that you don’t want to rock the boat. I know that you’re happier without her. Believe me, Jason, I don’t want this for any of us. But this is where we are. And I want to know what you’re going to do about it.”

“I hear what you’re saying,” Jason said finally. “Elizabeth and I need to—we need to talk about it. I’ll handle it.”

“Then do it.”

When Bobbie had left, Jason looked at Elizabeth with some worry. “She’s wrong. It’s not mine. I promise—”

“I know,” Elizabeth said. “You told me that already, and I believed you then.” There was a half smile tugging at her lips, but it was a sad one. “It could have been. You know that.”

“It wouldn’t—” Jason winced, then looked away. He didn’t want to touch that topic with a ten-foot pole.  “I still meant what I said before. There’s no point in blowing anything up until we know if it’s Sonny’s or AJ’s, and whatever Bobbie thinks, there’s a chance it’s AJ.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t sound particularly convinced, and that irritated him. “If it’s AJ, what’s the point in getting everyone upset?” he wanted to know. “It’s none of my business then.”

“Do you think Bobbie’s the only one wondering?” Elizabeth asked. “You think no one is going to say anything to AJ? I just—” She shrugged. “It’s your choice at the end of the day, and I’m not telling you what to do.”

“I’ll figure something out. I promise,” he added. “It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks, does it?” he asked, sitting back on the sofa. “You and I know the truth.”

“I know.” Elizabeth forced a smile. “You’ll handle it. And whatever you do, I’ll support you. We can drop it.”

Jason knew they weren’t really dropping it, but there was nothing left to say if he didn’t want to get into the murkiness of his relationship with Carly or the way he’d felt about her only a short time ago.

And he had no intention of ever opening that door.

But if you asked me to
I just might change my mind
And let you in my life, forever
If you asked me to
I just might give my heart
And stay here in your arms forever
If you asked me to
– If You Asked Me To, Celine Dion

---

Friday, January 14, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Bathroom

Jason knocked lightly on the ajar door, then smiled faintly when he pushed it open. Elizabeth was still soaking in the bubble bath. Her head was turned to the side, cushioned by another folded towel, her eyes closed, the steam of the water flushing her pale skin. The tendrils of curls that had escaped from the pile she’d gathered on top were damp, clinging to her cheeks. She’d scrubbed her face clean before she’d gotten in the bath, no traces left of the terrible night she’d had, save for the bandaged feet, propped up at the end of the bathtub on a pile of towels.

He could breathe a little easier. She was safe, tucked away where nothing could hurt her. Everything else could wait.

Jason knelt next to the tub. “Hey,” he murmured, brushing the back of his knuckles down her cheek. “You awake?”

“Barely.” Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered and she turned her head back, smiling at him. “How long was I out?”

“Not long. You wanna soak longer, or—”

“No. I’m going to end up wrinkled like a prune.” Elizabeth’s nose scrunched up as she tried to sit up but remembered her feet which needed to stay dry. “Ugh.”

“I got it.” Jason found a plush bath towel in a cabinet and within a few minutes, he’d lifted her from the water and deposited her on the bed. He crossed to the dresser. “What do you want to sleep in?”

“One of your shirts?” she asked hesitantly. He turned back to her, and Elizabeth smiled ruefully. “They’re comfortable.”

He liked her in his shirts, so there was no argument from him. He grabbed a blue one from a drawer.

“Um, are things okay?” Elizabeth asked, tugging it over her head. Jason didn’t answer at first, disappearing into the bathroom to dump the used towels in the laundry hamper and drain the tub.

When he returned to the bedroom, she’d scooted back against the headboard, the comforter folded back. “They’re okay for tonight,” Jason said finally. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Didn’t want to tell her how much of the terror she’d experienced was his fault.

It burned, like acid searing holes inside him. It could have been so much worse—so much more tragic—what if the man driving had shot and killed them both—what if there had been a bomb—what if Elizabeth had ended up like Lily?

He’d been stupid. Foolish. His anger had clouded his judgment, and Jason had thought he was better than that. He’d learned to harness his emotions. To turn them off and focus. Then Sorel had cut into the dance and put his hands on Elizabeth—

He’d just wanted her out of there. Nothing else had mattered. And that mistake had nearly cost him everything that did.

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” Elizabeth offered. “I mean, we don’t have to at all. I don’t know what I’m supposed to ask or not. I mean—” She bit her lip. “I was part of it tonight, but I know I can’t know everything. I don’t want to—”

Jason crawled into bed next to her, having changed into a pair of sweats. “Hey.” He tugged her into his arms, and she snuggled next to him, tucking her head under his chin. “You can ask whatever you want whenever you want. I might not always be able to answer, but you get to ask, Elizabeth. And this—this isn’t normal. It won’t be. I promise.” He wouldn’t let it be.

“Okay.”

“I just don’t want to think about it anymore tonight.” She was safe, the worst of her injuries were the cuts on her feet, and he still had a nagging headache, but he’d escaped a concussion. They’d been lucky.

No thanks to him.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny slammed the door shut behind him, stalking over to the minibar to pour himself another tumbler of bourbon. He tossed back the first, then a second—then finally just reached for the bottle. But when he lifted it to his lips, his hand tightened.

They’d limped out of an alley, bedraggled and bruised. Jason with blood trickling down his cheek, his tie gone, his dress shirt dirty and ripped —

Elizabeth bleeding from scratches on her arms, her legs, her feet destroyed, her dress in tatters. Her eyes swollen from crying, hair limply hanging around her face, tear-stained mascara tracks down her cheeks—

Sonny threw the bottle across the room, the smash against the fireplace oddly satisfying. And he liked it so much that he swept the rest of the liquor from the bar, sending it crashing to the ground in jagged shards of glass.

He’d nearly gotten them both killed, and for what? So Sonny could beg for more respect from people who would never give it? He’d sacrificed what little trust Jason had had left for him for this?

The magnitude of his failure burned him, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He’d worked so hard to salvage their friendship after that terrible night—and Sonny had thrown it all away.

For nothing.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth woke with a start, her heart pounding as she sat straight up and looked around, struggling to get her bearings in a pitch-black room — her eyes refusing to adjust—

“Hey. Hey.” Jason switched on the light on his side of the bed, and she could finally see where she was —

Safe. At home. Jason’s arms around her.

“Hey,” he murmured against her ear. “We’re okay.”

She turned to him, touching the skin just beneath the beneath the cut he’d refused to bandage. “We’re okay,” Elizabeth repeated. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just—” She winced, moving her feet. “I thought it was the park.”

Jason didn’t say anything, just held her tighter, his warmth surrounding her, easing the burn in her lungs as she’d fought to breathe.

“I didn’t know if I’d be able to get you out of sight.” She squeezed her eyes closed, fought down the panic that wanted to bubble up, the sobs that she’d never unleashed earlier. “You fell and you weren’t moving, and they were behind us—” She sucked in a breath, but she couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Don’t—” Jason swore, tugged her across his lap so he could hold her closer. He looped one of her arms over his shoulder. He smoothed her hair back. “Don’t. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I need to be stronger than this. I need to be able to handle it. I can. I promised I’d be able to—”

“You were strong.” Jason kept stroking her hair. “I still don’t know how you did it. Your feet—how far you ran—how fast—”

“I had to.” Miserably, she swiped her eyes. “I just—I was so scared. I got you down the hill, but I didn’t know if they’d be able to see us. I just—I laid on top of you, and I kept hoping, I kept praying that they wouldn’t see you because I could still run but you couldn’t—”

“If that ever happens again—” He grimaced. “You need to run. Do you understand? You leave me and you run—”

“Don’t—” She swallowed the first words she wanted to say. Don’t be stupid. “Would you leave me?” she demanded, angry that he’d even suggested it.

“That’s different—”

“It’s not. If I were unconscious with men chasing us, you’d never leave me behind. You’d carry me as long as you could, and then you’d find a way to protect me. I-I thought maybe I could keep running and distract them, but I was scared to get separated — ” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t leave you. Don’t ask me to do that.”

“Elizabeth.” Jason just looked at her, a bit dumbfounded, his hands cupping her face. “If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t—”

“I wouldn’t leave you,” Elizabeth repeated. She stroked his cheek. “Don’t ask me to leave you.” Ever, she wanted to say. Don’t ever ask me to leave. Let me stay right here forever. But she swallowed those words and anything else she wanted to say.

Instead of answering or making the promise, he kissed her, harder, a bit more roughly than he had before, though she wasn’t complaining. She gasped when he shifted, laying her against the mattress and covering her, his mouth greedily devouring hers with so much passion she thought she might drown in it. She frantically reached for the waistband of his sweats, shoving and kicking them down his legs, not even noticing the pain in her feet.

He dragged her panties down, barely getting them off before he thrust inside her, hard. Elizabeth cried out, biting her lip and tasting her own blood.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against her throat. “I’m sorry—”

“No, no—” Her nails dug into his shoulders. “No, go. Keep going—” She gasped and couldn’t form another coherent word as he did exactly as she asked, until she nearly went blind from pleasure. She felt her body tense against his, and he groaned, and then it was over, the only sound in the room their heavy and panting.

Jason’s lips cruised over her face as she sighed, stroking his back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured again.

“For what?” she murmured.

“I’m too heavy, for one thing,” he muttered, leaning up on his elbows. “And that’s—you deserve—”

“You know, the women I met tonight,” Elizabeth said, and he stopped talking, drawing his brows together. “They felt sorry for me. Because I didn’t have designer clothes or expensive jewelry.” She opened her eyes, smiled at him, lazily. “But you know, I think they were jealous.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Because I get to have you all to myself.” She stretched her arms over her head. “And they measure how much someone cares about them with the money they spend.” She met his eyes. “Thank you. For forgetting to be gentle. I’m not delicate.”

“No, you definitely aren’t.” He kissed the side of her throat, just under her ear. “But you are injured,” he reminded her. He looped her arms around his neck and lifted her up so that she was once again sitting in his lap. “And you’re going to feel this tomorrow.”

“Mmmm, probably, but worth it.” She kissed him again, her expression sobering. “I was scared tonight,” she confessed, and the amusement in his eyes faded. “I need to be able to tell you that. You were scared, too.”

“I was.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Terrified.”

“But we’re okay.” She laid a hand on his cheek. “We’re okay. And we’re going to keep being okay. Because you wouldn’t leave me, and I’m not going to leave you. I don’t know why you think I would.”

“I just want you to be safe.”

“I’m safe right here.” She laid her head against his shoulder, cuddling against him. “And there’s no place else I’d rather be.”

“Me either.”

Pardon me while I burst into flames
I’ve had enough of the world and its people’s mindless games
So pardon me while I burn and rise above the flame
Pardon me, pardon me, I’ll never be the same
Never be the same, yeah
– Pardon Me, Incubus

---

Friday, January 14, 2000

Street

The car had barely come to a full stop before Jason had twisted, shoved the door open, and launched himself out of the car, reaching back in only for a second to wrap his arms around Elizabeth’s upper torso, already halfway out, and drag her the rest of the way.

And then they were flying. Legs pumping, hearts racing, the air rushing past them, with Jason’s hand tightly in hers, as he steered them down an alleyway, behind a row of buildings, then another alley—it felt like a twisted labyrinth and if he knew where they were, he didn’t stop to tell her.

She didn’t feel the ground beneath her stockinged feet at first, but then something sliced through, and pain radiated straight up her leg. she stumbled, her hand breaking from Jason’s. Elizabeth fell to her knees, swallowing the cry that threatened to erupt.

Jason hissed, crouched down. “What is it?”

“Nothing—I’m fine—”

There was a shout, and he snapped his head up, focusing behind her.

“We need to go—” Elizabeth got to her feet, snatched his hand and they started to run again. She ignored the throbbing in her foot. Ignored the way the gravel and rocks bit into the tears in her stockings as they shredded into nothing more than irritants.

Jason took the lead again, turning down another alley, but this one butted up to Port Charles Park and she nearly wept from relief. Much of the park towards this side of town was covered in trees. They could get lost in the woods—

They started down a path, one that she vaguely recognized as twisting and turning through the west side of the park, leading out towards the business district. It would be crowded this time of night and maybe—

But then she didn’t think or speculate. Her feet were burning, the pain almost unbearable, but she pushed past it. Jason would get her to safety. He would—

This time it was Jason who stumbled, his foot caught on a tree root that had crept under the path. He went flying, his hand jerking out of her grasp, landing a few feet away, on his side.

No Name: Restaurant

Sonny fought down the swirl of nerves and fury, taking another drink from the bartender. So far everything had gone according to plan — Elizabeth had charmed the people she needed to charm though he was a little put out that she’d barely had to speak and Carlotta Vega had decided to approve of her.

Sonny had been trying for five years.

But she’d survived that gauntlet, made it through dinner, and the dancing — and Jason hadn’t murdered Sorel on the dance floor.

Now Sonny just had to wait for the limo to return.

“I like your partner’s wife,” Daniel told Sonny as he signaled for a drink of his own. “She does you both credit.”

Sonny exhaled slowly, forcing himself to sip the bourbon. “She’s a quick learner.”

“Carlotta was concerned when we found out she’s eighteen.” Daniel lifted a brow. “A bit young for marriage, wouldn’t you say?”

“Elizabeth didn’t agree.” Sonny bristled. “Do you have a point?”

“Jason did not look happy to be here tonight. I thought at first it was because we both know he’d rather gnaw off his arm than put on a suit for something like this.” Daniel tipped his head. “Did you, perhaps, leave him no choice but to bring his wife tonight?”

Sonny tossed the rest of the liquor back, ignoring the burn in his throat. “He showed up and did his part. He did everything we asked—”

“My quarrel is not with him. Or his wife.” Daniel’s mouth was grim. “She’s too young to be used like a pawn—”

“I’ll remind you that this was your idea,” Sonny shot back. “You wanted this reception. You know that Jason doesn’t like these things. You knew Elizabeth wasn’t experienced with things like this. If you’re feeling guilty for using her, Vega, look in the mirror.”

He left the irritated mobster and headed for the lobby. He wasn’t going to wait an entire hour. He’d call for a car. Let them handle their own damned problems from now on. He wasn’t going to stand around and be insulted.

Port Charles Park

Elizabeth nearly collapsed from the pain and the fear as she saw Jason lying unconscious a few feet away, but she couldn’t give in. Couldn’t give up. She started towards him, then nearly fell herself from the new waves of throbbing, burning pain in the lower half of her body.

She swallowed the cry that bubbled in her throat, terrified that someone might hear her. She limped towards him, wincing at the blood on the side of his face. He’d hit his head—oh, God—there was crashing in the trees behind them in the distance. She had to—She had to get them off the path.

Grunting, Elizabeth pushed, rolling Jason’s unconscious form until there was a dip in the earth and it rolled on its own. She winced and rushed after it, relieved when he came to a rest a few feet below—just out of sight. Harsh, gasping sobs slipped out of her mouth as she frantically found some branches and leaves in the drifts of snow, hoping it would give them just enough cover. The crashing in the trees was closer now and she could hear voices and shouts, footsteps—

Elizabeth dropped down, flattening herself over Jason, burying her face in his chest and squeezing her eyes shut.

Please. Please. Please. Keep running. Don’t stop. Don’t see us. Please please please—

The voices and footsteps ran past them, fading into the distance. But Elizabeth didn’t trust it. Didn’t believe they wouldn’t circle back.

She didn’t know how long she laid there, only that the pain in her feet had started to fade into numbness, the cold seeping into her body. She hadn’t worn a jacket, expecting to travel directly from the building to the limo and back again. The snow had started to fall again, the thick flakes all around them. The wind was picking up.

But the voices and footsteps hadn’t come back. Elizabeth raised herself up. They were alone. The woods around them were silent. She shivered, rubbing her hands to get feeling back into them.

She looked at Jason, laying so still beneath her, but still breathing. “Jason.” She rolled off him, wincing at her feet. They could come later. Head wounds first— She knelt at his side, feeling the back of his head. The bleeding had stopped, so that was good—

“Jason—” She pressed her hands to his cheeks. “Please, please, open your eyes—” She pressed her lips against his, freezing, hoping for something—for a miracle. She couldn’t do anything from here. Couldn’t carry him. Couldn’t save him—

He groaned first, but then his eyes opened, just a sliver. “Elizabeth—”

“Thank God. Thank God.” She lowered her brow to his. “You’re awake.”

He grunted, then shoved himself up, bringing her with him, looking around with confusion. “What—What happened—”

“You hit your—” The adrenaline was starting to fade, and the fear and shock were setting in, her hands shaking as she tried to form words. “You hit your head. I—”

Jason exhaled slowly, then looked around again, more alert this time, taking in the pathway nearly twenty feet away, slightly uphill. “We were being followed—”

“They went past. A while ago. I was—” She couldn’t say anything else. Couldn’t form the words. “They didn’t come back.”

Jason nodded, then took a deep breath. He dragged himself to his feet, lifting her up. She cried out as she put weight on her feet. She’d sat for too long— “Damn it,” he muttered. “We won’t get reception here on the cell,” he told her. “We have to move.”

“I know.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her limp back up to the path. “Your head,” Elizabeth said. “We need to get it looked at—”

“I’m fine. I just—” Jason twisted, looking at the path for the first time. He took out the phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. “One bar. Might be enough. We can go back the way we came, I think.” He crouched down, lifting one of her feet, trying to examine it in the inky darkness, nothing but the dim light of the cell phone to work with. “Damn it. How are you walking on this?”

“Think about it later,” Elizabeth suggested shakily, but clung to him tightly. He started to lift her into his arms, but she stopped him. “No, you can’t. You might have a concussion. I made it this far, okay? Let’s call Sonny and find somewhere to meet him.”

He wanted to argue further, but instead he whipped off his suit jacket, wrapped it around her shoulders. Her shawl had disappeared somewhere or had been left behind in the limo. He needed to get her out of the cold, out of the open.

He was able to connect to Sonny long enough to give him a meeting place, then they limped back the way they came, dipping off the path at any strange sounds. No one came back, but that didn’t make either of them feel any safer.

Not until they left the path for a well-light street and the café Jason had given Sonny. There was a car parked in front, but he kept Elizabeth behind him until Sonny emerged from the passenger side, his face creased in worry.

“Jason hit his head, “Elizabeth blurted out as Sonny approached them. “We need a doctor—”

“I’m fine,” Jason repeated, turning to her. “You need—”

“You both look like hell. Richie will be waiting at the penthouse,” Sonny clipped out. He gestured to one of the guards to open the back door. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth never made a sound as their doctor gently worked on her feet, but Jason held her hand tightly. The doctor had to cut the stockings away from her ankles, then gently peel the shreds out of the various cuts and gashes in her feet before he could even disinfect and treat them.

“If I had left my shoes on, I’d have broken my ankle before we got out of the first alley,” Elizabeth reminded him with gritted teeth. “It was the only way.”

The only way.

She was right about that, of course. Once they’d been trapped in a limo, ditching the shoes and running was the only option available.

But it shouldn’t have been.

He didn’t know how she’d done it — how she’d run so far on those feet when he knew she’d had the first cut within seconds of leaping from the limo. Her dress was torn, a strap dangling down the side of her dress. Her hair had come undone, the curls falling around her face, and her cheeks were streaked with her makeup, smudged by tears.

Somehow she’d managed to keep them both safe on the path when he’d fallen, and she’d barely had a word of complaint other than winces and hisses of pain.

She deserved so much better than this.

“You’ll want to stay off the feet for a few days,” Richie advised as he wrapped Elizabeth’s foot in gauze, then a wrap to protect the bandages. “Maybe longer. I don’t think any of the cuts need stitches, but we need to keep our eye out.” He glanced at Jason. “How’s the head?”

“Feels like hell,” Jason bit out. “But I’m fine—”

“You could have a concussion,” Elizabeth argued, shifting away now that her injuries had been seen to. “You were out for a while—”

“I know the symptoms,” he told her gently, squeezing her hand. “We’ll keep an eye on it, but I’m okay for now.” He looked at Richie. “Right?”

“Yeah, you know the drill. Not your first knock out. Won’t be the last.” The doctor got to his feet. “I’m going to leave you what you need to take care of the feet,” he told Elizabeth. “Call me if any of it gets worse.”

“Thanks,” Sonny said as the doctor passed him. “Appreciate the quick service.”

“Appreciate the paycheck.” The doctor left, and Sonny turned back to them. “You should get some rest—”

“You want to tell me what the hell happened?” Jason demanded. He’d not said anything in the car, not wanting any of the guards involved. He knew if he started talking, he might explode.

This was Sonny’s fault. Every cut, every gash, every bruise, every piece of Elizabeth damaged from tonight was his fault—

And Jason’s.

“We didn’t realize anything was wrong,” Sonny said, chagrined. “I left early and was already on my way home when you called. Sorel was still at the No Name when I left. I contacted Vega—Sorel left just after I did. He must have found out somehow—maybe there’s a rat—”

“Maybe it was fucking obvious you were setting him up,” Jason retorted. “I told you, didn’t I? But you all had your own games you wanted to play. He wanted hostages of his own. You wouldn’t have known anything was wrong until the car didn’t come back for you, and by then it would have been too late. Sorel would have had us to bargain with.”

Sonny shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, dipping his head down. “I know—”

“What happened to Max?”

Elizabeth’s soft voice drew both of their attention and Jason’s breath caught at the reminder of the guard who was supposed to be in the car.

The man Jason hadn’t bothered to check for when they’d gotten into the limo. He’d been so eager to leave, to get Elizabeth away from the restaurant that he hadn’t bothered to verify the driver. Rookie mistake.

“They found him behind the No Name. He was shot. Not dead,” Sonny added in a rush when Elizabeth’s face paled. “He’s being seen to. I’m sorry—”

“Wait here,” Jason cut in again. He turned to Elizabeth. “You need to rest,” he told her softly, lifting her in his arms. “I’m going to take you upstairs.”

“Mmm…I want to take a hot bath.” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck. “I promise, I won’t get my feet wet. I just—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Once Elizabeth was settled, soaking in the bath she’d asked for, her feet carefully propped up to stay dry, Jason returned downstairs where Sonny was still standing.

“I never wanted her to get hurt,” Sonny said. “You know that, don’t you? Whatever’s wrong between us, you have to know—”

“There was always a possibility tonight would go wrong,” Jason interrupted. “You knew that, and you decided the risk was worth it. Sorel already made it clear he doesn’t care what happens to her. The only reason she didn’t die on New Year’s was a faulty wire.”

“We don’t know that he wanted her dead, Jason—”

“I’m not in the mood to be charitable. He put a live bomb in Elizabeth’s studio and then called her to make sure she knew she was going to die. And tonight, he tried to kidnap her. There’s no more games. No more rituals or traditions. You’re done using me.”

“I didn’t—” His face gray, Sonny swallowed hard. “That’s not what I wanted to do—”

“It’s all you’ve ever done. You call yourself my brother, my friend?” Jason demanded. “I’ve lied, cheated, and stolen for you. I’ve killed for you. And all I ever asked you to do was to respect me. To respect my choices.”

“I—”

“And you don’t. You used me to get back in good with Vega and everyone else because they’re still pissed you took off and left me in charge.”

“This is my fault, I know it—”

“I don’t give a damn about your martyr act,” Jason snapped. “This is your life, not mine. And I don’t want it anymore. I’m done.”

With those words echoing in the air, Jason stalked upstairs and left Sonny alone in the living room. He didn’t want to think about the man anymore tonight. Not when he had his own guilt twisting in his stomach.

For all that he blamed Sonny, Jason knew he was the real culprit. Sonny had put them in a dangerous situation, but it was Jason’s mistakes that had led to Elizabeth nearly being kidnapped and dragged through the park until her feet had been sliced into ribbons, forced to protect them when he couldn’t.

Tonight was his fault.