There’s nowhere to run
I have no place to go
Surrender my heart, body, and soul
How can it be
You’re asking me
To feel the things you never show
You are missing in my heart
Tell me why can’t I be there where you are?
– Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely, Backstreet Boys

---

Sunday, April 16, 2000

General Hospital: Conference Room

“I apologize for calling a meeting on Sunday,” Stefan said stiffly as Alexis spread out her paperwork. He adjusted his glasses over the bridge of his nose. “I thought the issue shouldn’t wait another day—”

“No, I agree.” She scanned the fine print of the contract he’d handed her. “It looks in order—”

“Have you spoken to Nikolas over the last few weeks?” Stefan interrupted, startling her. She set the paperwork back on the desk and peered at him.

“Nikolas hasn’t been much of a fan of mine since I began working for Sonny and Jason,” Alexis reminded him. “As I recall, that was a feeling you shared.”

“Yes, well—” Stefan bristled at this reminder how far their relationship had deteriorated.

“And no, I haven’t spoken to him. I do know what today is,” Alexis added. “But I’m sure he’ll be spending time with his mother, with Elizabeth. And I know Emily is in town—”

“I—” Stefan shook his head. “Since that scene at Christmas, I don’t know how close he’s been with Elizabeth Webber.”

“Ah.”

“I’m worried about him,” Stefan said, his tone a bit lower. “He’s…he hasn’t been the same since Katherine’s death. I had hoped he would begin to recover, and I thought he’d grown close to Elizabeth. That it might—”

“Stefan—” Alexis sighed. “He’s had a difficult year. Everything with Katherine—from beginning to end—was a tragic farce. Losing Lucky when they’d only begun to grow close—he’ll come around. I also—I don’t think you should count on Elizabeth Webber—especially not that way.”

“No, I realized that on Christmas Eve,” Stefan said dryly. “When she left with Jason Morgan. I suppose I hope he doesn’t take after the other men in our family. We tend to…” He grimaced.

“Fixate,” Alexis offered. Her brother sent her a sour look. “Obsess? Yes, I’m familiar. You —and Stavros—with Laura. Nikolas isn’t you. Or our brother.”

Spencer House: Living Room

“All right, sweet heart. Just be home—yes—” Laura nodded, gesturing for Luke to wait as he came through the front door. “Yes, dinner is at five. Felicia will drop you off? Thank you.” She hung up. “Lu slept over at Maxie’s last night,” she told Luke. “She wanted to stay a bit longer.”

“Oh.” Luke shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to spend a bit of time with her.”

“Sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, it’s—” he put up a hand. “It’s fine. I just showed up. Uh, dinner tonight—” He met her eyes. “Am I still invited? After…the other day—”

“Of course.” Laura busied herself fussing over pillows and throw blankets. “I’m sorry for that scene,” she said briskly. “It’s water under the bridge—”

“Angel—” Luke waited for her to stop, to look at him again. “Laura, it’s nothing I didn’t deserve. And it shames me that there’s even a kernel of truth in what you said.”

“There’s more than a kernel—”

“Not—” Luke bit off. “No, everything you said was the truth. But the part about me—” He paused. “What you said about how I treated you when Nikolas came here. When I found out. I didn’t think of it then, Laura. It wasn’t deliberate. But I suppose I had doubts because of how our story was written.” His voice was pained as he continued. “I can tell myself I was in love with you before—but I wasn’t. I was obsessed, and that’s different. I didn’t know you enough to be in love with you. That came later—”

“Luke—” Laura folded her arms, looked at her ex-husband. “Back then, the world was different. And I told myself that what happened was partially my fault. Because I was there alone with you. I wouldn’t leave you when you wanted me to. And I thought maybe I sent you signals—”

“No—”

“And it took me a long time to understand that none of that was my fault. But because I blamed myself,” she said slowly, “it left room in my heart and my mind to trust you again. Because I couldn’t see it as rape.” Luke flinched at the word, but Laura continued. “By the time I accepted that had happened—what that night was—by the time I could come to terms with it—it had been twenty years.” She crossed to the mantel, picked up a photograph of herself with Luke and their children, just after Lulu had been born. “By that time, this was my reality. And it meant more than holding you responsible for what had happened a lifetime ago.”

She set the photo back on the mantel. “If I had had someone back then who could have told me that nothing was my fault, that all I had to do was say no and that should have been enough—it would have been different.” She smiled faintly, then looked at Luke. “What am I supposed to do? Throw away twenty years of memories because of one night? I can’t think of what might have happened—or what should have happened. That’s not my reality. I never saw you as my rapist, Luke. And because of that, I fell in love with you. I married you. We raised children together. Should I wish none of that had happened?”

“No, I suppose not.” Luke paused. “Do you—I mean, now—”

“Now, I acknowledge what happened that night was a part of the man I married. I acknowledge that I am a rape survivor. Not just from you,” she added. “But on that island. With Stavros.”

“I wish I had been a better man,” Luke told her. “That I had understood the gift—truly understood—I had when we were a family. I’m sorry.” He looked around the living room. “And today—I’m sorry that today exists on a calendar.”

“Our little boy—” The grief swelled again, not as dark or as deep as it had been a year ago, but sweeter. She picked up a photo Lucky and Elizabeth at his last Christmas party at the hospital. Audrey had given it to Laura not long after the funeral. “Our little boy lived such a rich life. I’m so grateful for the time we had with him. For the love he was given.”

“People live a lifetime and never know it,” Luke murmured, taking the frame from her. “We owe a lot to Elizabeth. For guiding Lucky through everything that last year. He would have been lost to us in other ways so much sooner.”

“Well, you’ll have your opportunity to show her tonight. She’s coming to dinner. I invited her and Emily—” Laura lifted her chin. “And Nikolas.”

Luke nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad that everyone who loved Lucky will be together tonight.”

Hardy House: Living Room

 Elizabeth nearly yanked the door off its hinges in her rush to open it. “Sonny! Did you find him?”

“Ah—” Sonny winced, and her heart fell. “No. I wanted to tell you what I do know, and how we’re going to move forward. Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah. Um, yeah.” Elizabeth stepped back, looking up as Emily jogged down the steps. “Emily knows so you don’t have to—”

“Yeah, of course.” Sonny nodded in greeting before looking back at Elizabeth. “Well, we knew Jason is mostly using cash. We have his bank records. He’s only used his debit card a few times. Mostly plane tickets.”

“So you know where he’s been?” Elizabeth asked.

“Not every where. In January, he paid to ship his bike to Florida, and then flew to Miami. You said that’s where the first card came from?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we have an ATM withdrawal there. Nothing else for about two weeks until Utah, then another in Arizona.”

“More postcards,” Emily nodded at Elizabeth. “That tracks—”

“Then he bought a one way ticket to Port Charles in March and stored his bike.”

“It was a one-way—” Elizabeth took in that information, realizing that Jason really had planned to stay.  What if she’d said yes? Oh, God, maybe that extra time could have convinced him—

“And then another one way back to Dallas on Sunday, March 26. He drew out five thousand dollars from a bank that Monday, and that’s the last record we have.”

Elizabeth stared at him, not processing what that statement meant at first. “Wait. You mean—”

“He hasn’t touched his bank account, debit or ATM, in three weeks. Now, that’s not a reason to be alarmed,” Sonny assured her. “He didn’t touch it for three weeks leading up to that plane ticket. He travels light—”

“Barely eats,” Elizabeth murmured, sitting on the sofa. If she hadn’t asked him to stop with the postcards—

“I actually—” Emily looked at Sonny, then back at Elizabeth. “I was hoping you had better information. I just checked my messages. He called me again last night. He knows I’m in Port Charles because of this weekend. Have you checked your messages at the studio? He might not know this number—”

Elizabeth frowned at her, then launched herself off the sofa, over to the desk where the phone sat. She hurriedly dialed into her machine, then squeezing her eyes shut. “Nothing,” she said flatly. And she couldn’t even be angry with him. Not truly. She’d told him not to contact her.

“But my phone records—” Emily got to her feet. “Maybe they might help. I mean, can Sonny get them? Or I could call and ask for them. To my dorm at Columbia,” she added. Sonny grabbed a pad of paper and pen from the desk, so she recited her number.

“You call and I’ll get my guy on it,” Sonny said. “Between the two of us, we should be able to get them within a few days.”

“By the time we get them, he could be gone,” Elizabeth said. Her throat tightened. “What if we just keep missing him?”

“We—”

“If I have to go back to school and camp by my phone,” Emily said, “we won’t—he called me twice, Liz. Within forty-eight hours. He knows what today is. The only reason he didn’t call you—”

“I asked him not to.” She hated herself right now, but—

“You didn’t know you’d need him,” Sonny reminded her gently. “Listen, we’ve got the alert on the bank account now. If he uses it to buy a plane ticket, we’ll know before he even gets on the plane. Okay? We’ll do everything we can.”

“Okay. Okay.” Elizabeth sighed. She forced a smile at Emily. “We should get going over to Laura’s.”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ll let you know if I get the records,” Emily told Sonny. “Or if he calls again.”

Astoria, Oregon

Riverwalk Inn

Jason returned to his room after grabbing lunch, only intending to take a quick shower then head out for a few hours on his bike. He’d had decided to stay in Oregon a few more days, but he still wanted to see more of the area. The bridge that went from Astoria to Port Ellice, Washington was four miles across, and he wanted to be over the water on the bike—the way he’d been able to see the lake on the cliff roads back home—

The phone sat there on a nightstand next to the bed, and he stared at it, wondering if he should call the mansion. He had a number just for Reginald, and he’d tell him if Emily was in town. He just wanted to talk to his sister, to hear her voice.

To ask her about Elizabeth.  Sonny wouldn’t know, and Jason didn’t really want to talk to him anyway, but Emily—

He gave into the temptation, picked up the receiver and dialed—but not Reginald. Instead, after a few rings—Elizabeth’s machine at the studio picked up, and Jason closed his eyes, letting her voice spill over him.

When the machine beeped, he froze. Nearly hung up. But somehow, he forced out the words.

“I’m—I’m sorry. I know you said it was too hard, and I shouldn’t have called. But—” Jason paused. “I sent a postcard. I’m just—I’m sorry I’m not there. Today. I should be. I almost did, but I can’t until I’m ready to stay, and I’m not. I’ve, uh, been in Oregon the last few days. You’d like it. The—it’s waterfront. It’s almost like home, but it’s not the same. I—I hope you’re okay.”

He hung up, grimacing at himself and shoving away from the nightstand. He snagged his keys and stalked out of the room. Everything he did was wrong, he thought, and he’d probably only made things worse.

Spencer House: Living Room

It was horribly awkward, Elizabeth realized, sitting in a room full of people who were only together because of death. She and Nikolas were civil, which she knew was a relief to Emily. Elizabeth smiled through gritted teeth as Lulu pulled out photo albums and talked about Lucky. It should have been sweet, but it felt forced. As if Lucky’s sister didn’t quite know what to do, and had to put on a show.

Luke was trying, as he sat with Bobbie, talking about their time in Canada. Bobbie and Nikolas were still frosty, something Laura had noticed and frowned about. Elizabeth had thought it would be comforting being in a room filled with Lucky’s family. Surrounded by memories, warmed by the love they’d all shared. Instead, it was stiff. Cold. Performative.

But as Lulu closed one album and reached for another, Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “Laura, can I help in the kitchen? Clean up?”

“Oh—” Laura blinked as she started to push together the dessert plates. “No, I think—” She must have seen the desperation in Elizabeth’s eyes. “Sure—”

“Do you want any help?” Bobbie asked, getting to her feet.

“No, I think Elizabeth and I have it.” Laura sent Bobbie a look that Elizabeth missed. She followed Lucky’s mother through the door that swung slightly and piled dishes in the sink.

“This isn’t turning out the way I pictured,” Laura admitted as she rinsed some plates and handed them to Elizabeth to stack in the dishwasher. “I thought we’d—I don’t know—”

“Find comfort in each other,” Elizabeth volunteered, and Laura nodded. “I know. I thought the same.”

Laura exhaled slowly. “But we’ve never been much of a family. Not in the last few years. I don’t know why I thought this would be different.” She smiled at Elizabeth. “But I appreciate you showing up. You and Emily. You both meant so much to him.”

“Thanks—”

“No, I mean it. Emily was his first friend in Port Charles,” Laura said. “His first friend his own age. And you—you made sure knew what it meant to love someone. To be loved.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth stared at the plates in her hand, her stomach rolling. “Yeah, we definitely did that.” She gripped the plate tightly. “Laura—”

“The first six months, they were hard,” Laura continued. “But I feel like we’ve been doing better. You, me, Luke, even Lulu. We’ve all put ourselves back together. As much as you can when you lose a child—” Her voice hitched, and she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t—”

“I don’t want you to ever feel obligated,” Laura told her, switching off the sink. She took the plate from Elizabeth and set it on the counter. “I love you. Not just because of who you were to my son, but because of you. And I want you to still feel like you’re part of this family. But if you don’t want that—”

“I do—” Elizabeth faltered. “I do,” she repeated. “I just—there’s a lot going on, and I feel so guilty because I should be thinking about Lucky, and I am, but I’m also—”

“Thinking about the rest of your life. You have a right to that, honey. You didn’t die in that fire.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Is it Jason?” Laura asked gently, and Elizabeth’s eyes flew to meet hers, startled. “Is that who you’re thinking about? Have you heard from him?”

“No. I wish—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No.”

Laura tipped her head to the side. “Elizabeth, you know you can tell me anything. I want to be here for you.”

“Oh, God.” And she did. She wanted to tell someone who was all hers, but there was no one that belonged only to Elizabeth, was there? Not anymore.

But Laura—she was close enough. Nearly like a mother. Just not hers.

“Jason came to see me after my grandmother died,” Elizabeth said. Tears slid down her cheeks. “And I told him to stop sending postcards because it hurts too much, and now I’m pregnant and I can’t find him.”

Laura simply stared at her.

And a few feet away, Nikolas—who had only just begun to push the swinging door open—froze.

Reach down your hand in your pocket
Pull out some hope for me
It’s been a long day, always ain’t that right
And no lord, your hand won’t stop it
Just keep you trembling
It’s been a long day, always ain’t that right
– Long Day, Matchbox 20

---

Friday, April 14, 2000

General Hospital: Conference Room

“A moment, please.”

Nikolas’s shoulders stiffened as his father called to him, and he stopped, letting other members of the hospital board flow past him. He waited until they had all left the room before turning. “Yes?”

“I had hoped we could talk for a moment.” Stefan removed his reading glasses, carefully stowed them, then met his eyes. “You’ve not returned my calls.”

Nikolas jerked a shoulder. “I had things to do.”

“Of course, but—” Stefan took a step towards him. “I know this weekend will be a difficult one—”

Nikolas clasped his hands behind his back, shook his head, as if he had no idea what his father was referring to. “No more than all the rest—”

“Nikolas.”

“Yes, it will be the anniversary of my brother’s death. But there is nothing special about that day,” Nikolas bit out. “It is no different than any other in the last year. He won’t magically come back to life. He was dead yesterday, he’s dead today, and he will be dead on Sunday. I told you. Nothing different.”

“I lost a brother,” Stefan began and Nikolas scoffed. “You think the quality of the life lost changes the grief?”

“It should. Stavros was a monster—”

“A monster with whom I had shared a childhood with,” Stefan cut in, and Nikolas fell silent. “He was not always the man he became. I have memories of him, Nikolas, that are mine alone. And though he’s been gone for many years, I still have grief in my heart for the boy he was, and the man he never grew up to be. So, yes, I understand that in many ways, Sunday is just another day without Lucky. But it has been a tragic year with many losses for you. Lucky was merely the beginning.”

Nikolas dropped his eyes, stared blindly at the worn carpeting. There was no lie in his father’s words. Lucky had been the first devastating blow. Then Katherine and the baby that never was. And the loneliness of his life now with Emily gone and Elizabeth remaining stubborn about his apologies. Refusing to understand his own anger, refusing to only think of anyone but herself—

“I am fine.”

“You are not fine,” Stefan argued. “And I’ve worried for months. It’s the only thing Alexis and I agree on anymore. Even Barbara has sought me out—”

Nikolas clenched his jaw. “She doesn’t care—”

“She does—”

“She doesn’t,” Nikolas retorted. “Did she tell you that she took Elizabeth’s side? That she didn’t even care that Elizabeth getting mixed up with Jason Morgan? There was a bomb in her studio! He nearly killed her, just like—” He stopped, took a deep breath. “I am the only one making any sense. And while the loss of my friendship with Elizabeth has been regrettable, I refuse to accept the blame. She’s better off with him gone, and she’ll see that one day.”

“Perhaps. But are you better off for having picked this hill to die upon?”

Nikolas glared at his father for a long moment, then stormed out of the conference room, letting the door slam behind him.

Hardy House: Living Room

“Thanks for letting me crash this weekend,” Emily said cheerfully. She dumbed her backpack on the sofa. “It’ll be more fun than the mansion.” She turned to Elizabeth. “We should get a movie or go out. Maybe a nightclub or—”

“Em.” Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. “If you really want to go out, we will. And I’m happy to have you here. Really. The house feels too empty most of the time.” Haunted, really, she thought as she nudged Emily’s suitcase towards the stairs and away from the main entry. Between her grandmother and those brief memories of Jason, Elizabeth didn’t quite feel settled. “But—”

“But I’m home this weekend because of Lucky.” Emily flashed a miserable smile, then flopped into an armchair, curling her legs underneath. “Because Sunday is—”

“The anniversary.” Elizabeth sat on the sofa, then stared at her hands. Maybe that was why she had trouble sleeping, why her stomach didn’t quite feel right. Twisting and turning. Her appetite was off, too. Between the looming anniversary and the misery of the last three weeks—

Jason hadn’t sent a postcard. He’d kept his promise.

It was supposed to make things easier, but—

“We’re going to spend Sunday night with the Spencers,” Emily reminded Elizabeth. “I want to spend time remembering him and being together. I also—” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t think Lucky would want us to be like this all weekend. Or all the time. He really wouldn’t.”

“No. He’d probably like the idea of going out and doing something fun.” Elizabeth nodded. “Where do you want to go?”

“Well, I was kidding about the nightclub. I am way too drained from school for that, but let’s go to the movies. We’ll eat ourselves silly on popcorn and candy.”

“I like that idea.” Elizabeth went over to the desk to grab the paper she’d tossed there that morning, then stopped as her eye caught the desk calendar. At the little red dot she’d marked last month when she’d moved back in.

She swallowed hard, then covered her abdomen for a moment before letting it slide away. She turned back to Emily, paper in hand. “Have you, um, heard from Jason? Or is he still leaving voicemails?”

“Voicemails,” Emily muttered. “I’m tempted to just sit at home for a week until I catch him.” She sighed, took the paper from Elizabeth and went to the movie section. “What about you? Did he ever get around to calling or is it still postcards?”

“Em.”

“You know, I didn’t get around to seeing Erin Brockovich,” Emily mused, “and it’s already been out a month. We should see it. I’m not in the mood for any romantic comedies—”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Emily. I need to tell you something.”

Emily glanced up, furrowed her brow. “What? Is something wrong? We don’t have to see it—”

“No, it’s not that.” Elizabeth twisted her fingers. “It’s about Jason. Um, I didn’t really—I didn’t—This is so stupid,” she muttered.

“Liz.” Emily set the paper aside, focused now on the conversation. “You know you can tell me anything. Absolutely anything in the whole wide world—”

“Jason and I—Before he left,” Elizabeth added, “we, um, there was—I know we both told you we were just friends, and we were at that point, but—”

“But then you weren’t.” Emily tipped her head. “He left anyway.”

“I told him to go. He’d already decided to, but I told him to go.” Her throat felt tight. “But before he went, we—I mean—”

“Ah.” Emily nodded, her eyes serious, sober. “Okay. And he only ever sent postcards. Did he stop?”

“I asked him to. When he came to see me.”

“He came—” Emily simply stopped in the middle of the sentence, stared at her.

“When my grandmother died. He came overnight. And we talked. And he wasn’t ready to come home, and I couldn’t go with him—”

“Go with him?” Emily squeaked. “Oh man, I definitely missed a chapter somewhere.”

“Yeah, it’s just—I mean, it all made sense in the moment. It still does. Even when it doesn’t.” Elizabeth dragged her hands through her air. “He told me he only sent the cards because he couldn’t call me. He didn’t know if he could stay away if he heard my voice.” She looked at her best friend, at Jason’s sister. “So I told him to stop. Because every time I got a card, it hurt worse. And if he can’t be here, and I can’t be there—”

“It’s just drawing it all out.” Emily came to sit next to her. “So he hasn’t sent any more.”

“No. A-And—” Elizabeth faltered. “Em. I’m late.”

“Late—” Emily’s eyes bulged. “Oh. Late. Um. Okay. How much?”

“A few days. It’s probably nothing,” Elizabeth added. “It’s been a crazy month. My grandmother died. People miss and skip all the time. And it’s only been three weeks. That’s too early.”

“All of that could be true.” Emily rubbed Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Tell you what. We’ll go to the store, we’ll take a test, and when it’s negative, we’ll go to the movies.”

“What if it’s not?” Elizabeth murmured. “What do I do if it’s not? Or what if it’s too early?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, though.” Emily waited for Elizabeth to look at her. “Hey. Whatever it is, I’m here. I promise. If it’s positive, if it’s negative, if it turns into a werewolf. No matter what.”

Spencer House: Living Room

Laura stared down at the sheaf of papers. At the line waiting for her signature. Then at the man sitting across from her with a sober expression on his face. “It seems so strange,” she murmured as she picked up a pen. “We’ll sign these, we’ll file them, and that’s it.”

What would her life have been like if she’d told the truth from the beginning? If she’d escaped Greece and told Luke about her little boy? Would Luke have gone after him? She’d wanted to forget about that time, to shove it down, out of sight, out of mind, and Bikolas had been part of that. It had started to seem like a bad dream, a terrible nightmare, and now she was awake and it was over—

“Laura.”

She looked at Luke. “I never understood,” Laura began, almost without thinking, without knowing where the words would lead her, “why I was the villain in this story.”

Luke frowned. “What do you—”

“I disappeared,” she said quietly. “Very soon after our wedding. Not terribly long after we’d gone after the Cassadines.” She met his eyes. “You weren’t alone while I was gone. You certainly didn’t mourn for years. I know about Holly.”

Luke closed his eyes. “Laura—”

“I was kidnapped and terrorized,” she continued slowly, not understanding where the words came from, only that now that she had begun, she couldn’t stop, “and forced into an abomination of a marriage. I stopped fighting him at some point, Luke, but that didn’t mean it stopped being rape.”

“Christ—” Luke shoved himself to his feet.

“And during that time, when I believed you to be dead—and I was convinced of it because why else hadn’t you come for me? Why couldn’t you find me on the island?” she wondered, more to herself than him. “I found refuge. I found an escape. I found kindness.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. “And when I finally found the courage to tell you, to tell you about Nikolas—oh, how I hoped you’d understand. I hoped that I could finally have my children all together. Isn’t it silly? I dreamed for years of telling you about Nikolas, and you charging to find him. To bring him home to me.”

She swiped at her face, laughing now, bordering on hysteria. “But instead, you treated me as if I’d chosen it. As if I were the villain,” she repeated. “And you made Nikolas feel like garbage—And Lucky, he took his cue from you.” She picked up the pen again, scrawled her name across the bottom. “You both treated me as if I’d done something dreadful. Lucky was a child, I could forgive him. But you, Luke—” She got to her feet, faced him, waited for him to meet her eyes. “It was if you thought — well, she fell in love her with rapist once, why not again?”

“I—” Luke squeezed his eyes shut. “It wasn’t like that—”

“Since the moment Nikolas came into our lives, you’ve never looked at me the same way.” Laura handed him the papers. “The man I married is gone. The life I thought we’d built, it shattered that day. I just didn’t see it.” She hadn’t seen it, hadn’t really accepted it until this moment. Until she’d finally dredged up all the darkness that had been eating at her soul all these years.

“You were always more than I deserved,” Luke said slowly, accepting the papers. “I know that I ruined everything—”

“I’m glad you’re here to be with Lulu,” Laura continued. “That you want to be a better father. But that’s all that I need. I stopped relying on you a long time ago.”

Astoria, Oregon

After the Badlands of South Dakota, Jason had continued his trek west to the Pacific Coast Highway. He’d started in Washington and had worked his way south, thinking that he’d keep going right into Mexico. Maybe it was time to head out of the country, go international. He’d seen South America a few times working for Sonny, but there were other places he’d wanted to go and hadn’t had a reason —

He’d only meant to stay in Astoria overnight, but the town that boasted itself as the oldest city west of the Rocky Mountains pulled at him and he found himself staying another night and wandering down to the waterfront where the the Columbia River flowed into the Pacific Ocean — it reminded him of home. Of Port Charles where Lake Ontario stretched into the horizon. There were piers to wander, a wharf with shops and cafes.

Jason knew about being homesick — Robin had talked about it in Paris, but he’d never really experienced it for himself. Places were things. They only had the value you placed on them. So maybe it wasn’t the Port Charles waterfront he missed so much so much as what it had represented. He’d slept under those docks, he’d worked on those piers — before he’d been Jason Morgan, Sonny’s right-hand man, he’d just been Jason, the outcast from the Quartermaines who worked a nameless job in a warehouse and drove his bike too fast.

The waterfront had always felt like home, more than anywhere else in Port Charles. Sonny had opened the coffee warehouse there the year before, and Jason had immediately volunteered to work out of the offices, wanting to be closer to the water.

And Elm Street Pier had been a place where he’d wander, sitting on the benches, taking a moment to clear his thoughts. How many times had he and Elizabeth sat there  last fall, getting to know one another?

It didn’t hurt as much as it once had — thinking of her — and Jason wondered if it meant he was finally letting go. Or maybe it didn’t hurt because somehow, standing here on a pier thousands of miles away, he felt closer to her. Maybe she was on the docks right now.

He knew what this weekend was—what Sunday would be—and he wished he were with her. To just sit and help her deal with this anniversary any way he could. That night had haunted him for months, the worry that he and Sonny had been responsible for that fire—that his kindness to Lucky had been the reason for all that grief—

Jason started back to his hotel room, and his eye—as always—caught a rack of postcards in a souvenir shop on the wharf. He didn’t even argue with himself this time. He bought a few, then returned to the hotel.

He dumped the cards on the table, then went to the phone. He dialed, then waited for the line to connect. He wanted her to answer, Jason thought, but then—

“Hey, it’s Emily. You know the drill!”

Jason closed his eyes. “Hey, Emily, it’s Jason. I’m sorry I missed you. I’ll, uh, try again later. Or tomorrow. Maybe you’re in Port Charles,” he realized as he spoke. Where else would she be on the anniversary? “I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up, stared at the phone, then went over to the table where he reached for one of the hotel’s pens, a postcard with the waterfront pictured, and tried to write something that would make up for him not being there.

Hardy House: Bathroom

Elizabeth set the white stick on the counter, then sat on the edge of the toilet to stare at it. She was going to feel like a real idiot when it came back negative. She was a week late, nothing to sneeze at. And, yeah, maybe she’d felt queasy and hadn’t really been sleeping and just generally completely off for the last ten days—

Elizabeth closed her eyes, dipped her head, and forced herself to take a deep breath. Too early to be freakin out.

“We should find something else to do,” Emily said from the doorway. “You’ve the set the timer. We’ll go clean out a closet or something.”

“Can’t move.”

Emily sighed, leaned against the frame. “Elizabeth—”

“I’m only eighteen,” she murmured, staring at the stick. “I don’t even know what I want to do with my life. I have a job that could go away tomorrow, I have a house only because my grandmother died, and the father could be anywhere in the world, and there’s no way to know—”

“Okay. We’re going to breathe, and we’re going to walk away from this bathroom.” Emily pulled Elizabeth to her feet and into the hallway. She closed the door, and somehow, with the pregnancy test out of sight, Elizabeth could actually take a full breath.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m freaking out. It’s going to be negative—”

“Maybe.” Emily rubbed her shoulders. “Maybe not. It’s early,” she reminded Elizabeth. “Jason came after your grandmother died. You’re finding out insanely early — in fact, it might be too soon to show up on a test,” Emily added. “We might be doing again in a week or two. Even so—” She paused. “There’s no law that says if it’s positive, then you have to keep it.”

Elizabeth stared her, then swallowed hard. “Em—”

“Yeah, I know. He’s my brother and maybe I should be saying let’s wait to find out what Jason thinks, but that’s not how this works.” Emily stepped back. “He chose to have sex with you, then go no contact—”

“We used protection,” Elizabeth protested. “And it was my choice for no contact—”

“Which he agreed to.” Emily wrinkled her nose. “Okay, maybe he doesn’t get the hit on this. I don’t know. I just—you’re right. You’re eighteen, and Jason is who knows where. If you don’t want to be a mother, then you don’t want to be a mother. End of story.”

Elizabeth folded her arms. “I never—I mean, I thought about it. Lucky and I sort of talked about it, and Jason and I did once, too—but not in the context of—” She grimaced. “This is an insane conversation to be having right now, and—”

“You also don’t have to have any of the answers right now,” Emily cut in, her tone gentle. “Not a single one, Liz. Whatever happens in the next few minutes stays between us until my dying breath.”

Her throat tightened. “Thank you. I mean it. I don’t—I’m just—this was not on the menu for today, okay? I didn’t—” Elizabeth looked towards the closed door, and herself wonder for just a minute. What would she do if it was positive?

“No. And anything you choose to do to handle what comes next is okay by me. This is your life. And you get to make the choices. Jason, by the way, would support you. Okay? He would.”

Elizabeth exhaled. “I guess.” Jason also talked about being a father — did he want children—

Emily’s watch buzzed, cutting sharply into Elizabeth’s thoughts. “It’s time.”

“Yeah, I figured—um—” Elizabeth scrubbed her hands through her hair, took a deep breath. “Okay. Um, can you just—can you go look for me? The box is on the counter. I just—I can’t. I really can’t.”

“All right.”

Elizabeth kept her back to the bathroom, listening as Emily opened the door, and then there was some rustling as she likely unfolded the instructions. And then silence.

“Em?”

“Let’s take another one.”

Elizabeth turned as Emily went into the bag to find the other three brands they’d bought because Elizabeth had been paralyzed by choice. “Emily,” she said again, and her friend looked at her. Straightened.

“It’s positive.”

Elizabeth’s breath rushed out in a whoosh and her head felt dizzy for just a moment. She put a hand on the wall of the hallway.

“Liz, you okay?”

“I’m—” Elizabeth counted to ten in her head silently, absorbed the information, and just tried to get herself together. “How often are these things giving false positives?”

“Um, not super often.  The box says 99% accurate—and it’s regulated by the FDA, so that should probably count—” Emily set the box down. “Let’s take the others, okay? And then—”

“Em.” Elizabeth reached for the test, then looked at the results—studied the box. Confirmed Emily’s reading. “Positive,” she murmured.

Pregnant.

“Liz?”

“Let’s take the rest of them,” Elizabeth said slowly. “Just to be sort of sure, and then—” And then what?

“You don’t have to know what you want to do—”

“And then tomorrow, I’ll go see Sonny.” Elizabeth put the stick in the box. “He’ll know how to get in touch with Jason. He told him my grandmother died, so he must know. Whatever happens next, he should be part of that decision.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. And when we’re done taking the tests, we’re going the movies, because I am definitely going to need a distraction.”

And everyone keeps asking, “What’s it all about?”
I used to be so certain and I can’t figure out
What is this attraction?
I only feel the pain
There’s nothing left to reason and only you to blame
Will it ever change?
– Barely Breathing, Duncan Sheik

---

Sunday, April 16, 2000

Spencer House: Living Room

Nikolas stepped back, away from the door, letting it swing shut, his mind racing. He turned away, towards the living room where Bobbie and Emily were on the sofa with Lulu, and Luke watched with suspicious eyes.

“Everything all right?” Luke asked, taking a step towards him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, I mean—” Nikolas cleared his throat. “I’m fine,” he corrected. “I just—I was going to tell Mother I have to leave before the launch closes for the night, but she and Elizabeth looked like they were in the middle of something.”

“What?”

“I didn’t hear,” Nikolas lied. “They just looked serious. Will you—will you tell her? I don’t want to get stuck in town. I promised my father.”

At the mention of Stefan, Luke’s face pinched, and Nikolas knew he’d succeeded in distracting him. “All right. I’ll tell her.”

Nikolas said his goodbyes to the others, grabbed his coat, then left, his mind still swirling with what he’d overheard, and wondering what he was going to do about it.

Spencer House: Kitchen

Elizabeth’s final words hung in the air for a long moment as Laura gathered her scattered thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have blurted it out—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’m sorry—”

“No, no.” Laura took Elizabeth by the upper arm and steered her towards the kitchen table, pulling out a chair. “Sit down, sweetheart. You said it like that because you had to. Let’s just take a minute, and we’ll talk about it.”

“Oh, God—” Elizabeth sat, and put her head in her hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing. And I keep telling myself that if I can just talk to Jason, it’ll be okay, because he always makes it okay, but that’s so stupid. He’s been gone for months, and I don’t need him to tell me how to think—”

Laura filled a glass with water and put it in front of Elizabeth before taking a seat herself. “Take a deep breath, drink some water, and let’s start from the top, all right?”

Elizabeth sat back, exhaled slowly, then sipped.

“You’re not looking for him to tell you how to think, Elizabeth. I think you know that.”

“I do.” Elizabeth paused. “He gives me perspective,” she corrected softly. “We used to sit on the bench on the pier, and I’d tell him whatever insanely petty thing was driving me crazy that day, and then he’d say like two words, and it would just make sense.” She swiped at her tears. “I shouldn’t need him for that.”

“Is that why you needed him? To give you perspective?” Laura pressed. “Was it the two words Jason contributed, or was it the comfort of knowing you could say anything and not be judged?” Elizabeth met her eyes, surprised. “Real friends let you be yourself with no shame. So go ahead. Talk to me, and I’ll see if I can find some words to help.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hands. “You’re pregnant.”

“I took three tests,” Elizabeth murmured. “On Friday. And they were all positive. That’s too many for a false positive—” She pressed a hand to her face. “I made an appointment at Planned Parenthood anyway, and they asked me if I wanted to talk to a counselor. It’s not required, they said, but it can help.” She sipped her water. “They recommend a counselor before you schedule an abortion, and it threw me because I went to them for a confirmation because I don’t have insurance right now. Emily and I talked about it, I guess, but I was—was there something in my tone that made them say it?”

“I’ve done some work at Planned Parenthood,” Laura told her gently. “You know that I’m trained as a social worker, and I’ve volunteered there. Not lately, of course. It’s just part of the script. We recommend it for all mothers, married or not. Does that make you feel better? Or—”

“It does. Because part of me feels so guilty that I’m even having this conversation with someone who isn’t Jason. I know it’s my body, my choice,” Elizabeth continued, “but he doesn’t even know. Doesn’t he deserve to be part of it?”

Laura made a face. “That’s a tricky question, I suppose. Because, no. He doesn’t. You’re the one who ultimately has to live with this decision. Pregnancy is hard on the body. It changes you forever. But on the other hand, it can be a relationship decision. I think if you don’t or can’t have the conversation with your partner, it usually indicates there’s a deeper problem.”

“A problem like not being able to find the partner?” Elizabeth said dryly. She stared into the glass. “Are you sorry you went through with it? Um, any of the times.”

“I was scared when I learned about Nikolas,” Laura admitted. “And I was prepared to resent the child because of how he was conceived. The world I was in. And I thought being pregnant meant I would never, ever leave.” She paused. “But there’s a moment—in the first few months, you feel the baby quicken. And it changed everything for me. I’m not sorry I had my babies, Elizabeth. All three of them are precious to me in their own ways. But that—” Laura reached for her hand. “That is my story. Not yours. And you don’t have to be a mother if you’re not ready.”

“I keep thinking about my mother. She didn’t want me,” Elizabeth murmured. “I came along and ruined everything.”

“Oh, sweetheart—”

“I was an accident. She had to give up a fellowship in Russia because of me,” Elizabeth told Laura. “And I knew she didn’t think it was worth it. I set back her entire career. And—you might notice—” She gestured. “It’s not like she’s in my life now.”

“That’s her loss.”

“Yeah, I keep hearing that. I just—I’m just starting my life. I don’t have any guarantees with anything. No health insurance. Barely any savings. I’ll have my inheritance in a few months, but that won’t last forever.” Elizabeth twisted the ring on her finger. “Maybe it would be stupid to have a baby right now.”

“It would be a bit of a struggle if you were on your own. You’re not, though.” Laura waited for Elizabeth to look at her. “You’re not. You have me, you have Bobbie. We’ll probably argue about who gets to babysit and be in the delivery room. And even if Jason doesn’t show up for you—which I doubt—you’ll have to beat the Quartermaines back with a stick.”

“Oh, God, the Quartermaines—” Elizabeth laughed nervously. “I don’t even want to think about that yet.” She waited a moment. “It would be stupid to have a baby right now,” she repeated, “because materially, financially, I’m not where I should be. But—I had all of that growing up. I had my own room. Clothes. Plenty of food. I went to the doctor’s when I was sick. But my mother didn’t love me. And my father sort of—he didn’t understand me, but I think he had some affection for me. Still—” Elizabeth looked at Laura. “Love is what matters. The rest of it — it helps. It smooths the way, but it’s not what a child remembers. Not if you do it right. Lucky spent his childhood on the run without a place to call home, but you’d never know it. Because you both loved him so much.”

“Love is what matters, Elizabeth. If you tell me that you want to make this work, with or without Jason, then we will make a plan to get you there. But if you tell me you’re not ready, we’ll make a different plan.”

“I—” Elizabeth managed a half smile. “I still don’t really know. I just—I really want to talk to Jason.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start. Did you tell Sonny? Can he—”

“He’s tracking Jason through bank and Emily’s phone records, but it might take some time. Um, Jason didn’t leave any contact information, and Sonny said he’s traveling with cash.”

“Ah. Well, then you need someone who knows how to travel light and under the radar. You need Luke. Can I tell him?”

“I—” Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, okay.” She glanced towards the door, wincing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take you away from everything.”

“Even if I didn’t love you as my own,” Laura told her, “Lucky would be very disappointed if I spent tonight grieving him instead of supporting you.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand again. “We’ll get this figured out. Just have a little patience and faith.”

Hardy House: Living Room

“Well, of course Laura took it well,” Emily said, hanging up her coat. “That’s just who she is. Did you think she’d be mad?”

“I don’t know,” Elizabeth admitted. She sat on the sofa, chewed on her bottom lip. “I suppose I thought maybe—with it being the anniversary—”

“No one ever expected you to grieve for the rest of your life,” Emily told her. She went over to pick up the phone. “I’m going to check my messages in New York. Maybe Jason called. You should try the studio—”

“Yeah, I guess.” Elizabeth didn’t hold out a lot of hope that Jason would have contacted her, but she needed to believe it a little bit. “I guess it was the way my grandmother reacted. And what Nikolas said—”

“Even though it was a pile of crap—and the only reason your grandmother brought Lucky up is she knew it would work. I liked her, but man, she could guilt trip someone as good as my grandfather.” Emily’s face wrinkled. “Nothing from Jason. He must have figured I was here and not bothered again.” She pressed the reset button on the base to hang up while holding out the receiver to Elizabeth. “I can do it if you want—”

“No, it’s—” Elizabeth got to her feet. “I’m not afraid. I know he didn’t, but—” She dialed into her machine, pressing the buttons to bypass her greeting and get into the messages—one new message.

“I’m—I’m sorry.”

Her breath caught, and she turned to stare at Emily who immediately jumped off the sofa.

“I know you said it was too hard, and I shouldn’t have called. But—”

Elizabeth tilted the phone that Emily could listen, too, and she let Jason’s voice sink in, the words floating past her. He’d called. He’d reached out—

“I sent a postcard. I’m just—I’m sorry I’m not here. Today. I should be. I almost did, but I can’t until I’m ready to stay, and I’m not. I’ve, uh, been in Oregon the last few days.”

Emily slapped Elizabeth in the arm as if she was dumb enough to miss that Jason had just given them a major lead, and Elizabeth whacked her back.

“You’d like it. The—it’s waterfront. It’s almost like home, but it’s not the same. I—I hope you’re okay.”

Then the message stopped. Elizabeth hurriedly pressed the button to save the message—she wanted to listen to it. He’d called her. He knew what today was, and he’d even sent a postcard—

“A postcard,” Elizabeth breathed, clutching the receiver, not even noticing when the dial tone echoed. “He said he’s been there a few days. Maybe he’ll stay. He said it was like home—”

“That doesn’t really help. Oregon’s got a huge coast, but I guess it’s better than we’ve had—”

“But his postcards. He always buys them at places he’s been. If he stays—when did he send it. If he put it in the mail in the last few days—”

They could know where he was in a week. Her hope deflated. He might be gone by then.

“Oregon,” Emily murmured. She pursed her lips. “You know, he used to talk about the Pacific Coast Highway. Maybe if we miss him there, we could take the highway and catch up or something.”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I need to tell Sonny. And Laura so she can tell Luke where to start.” The hope began to build again. Because this was something. No, it was better. It was a sign that he was still thinking about her, and he was staying in this place because it reminded him of Port Charles—no, it had reminded him of home. He’d called Port Charles home.

Spencer House: Living Room

Laura stepped off the bottom step, and Luke stood from the sofa. “She’s in bed. Thanks for hanging around until everyone else was gone.”

“I had a feeling when you and Elizabeth came back from that long talk in the kitchen.” Luke slid his hands in his pockets. “She all right?”

“It’s hard to say,” Laura said. “She’s pregnant.”

“Preg—” Luke trailed off, then narrowed his eyes. “I’ll kill that bastard—Christ, she must be more than four months—and he hasn’t bothered to come back—”

“He did come back,” Laura interrupted. “That’s how she got pregnant. Luke—are you really going to stand there and talk about a man abandoning his family?”

He swallowed hard, took the hit. “All right. It’s different, I guess. She’s just a baby—”

“She’s a grown woman. Not much older than I was when we met,” Laura told her. “And Jason doesn’t know. She only just found out, and naturally, she’s worried. He didn’t leave a contact number—”

“Now we’re back to bastard—”

“Luke,” Laura cut in, more sharply, more angrily this time. “I didn’t tell you so you could moralize and attack Jason. He’s done nothing wrong. He couldn’t stay here. His reasons are his own, but Elizabeth needs to find him and tell him. She’s already contacted Sonny, but he’s never had to travel under the radar. Jason’s only using cash.”

“Which sounds like a job for me—I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s not my place—I’ve just—” Luke hesitated. “I’ve seen her take on too much, Laura. And she’s tried so hard not to collapse under the weight of it. The—the rape. The trial. Losing Lucky. That crap with Nikolas at Christmas—” He cleared his throat. “She deserves better than the world’s given her. That’s all. Okay? That’s all I meant. And, okay, Jason’s not a bad guy. I just—I want her to be okay.”

“So do I. And it starts with getting her into a room with Jason—” Laura stopped as the phone rang. She picked it up. “Hello? Elizabeth—oh. Oh, that’s great. That’s a good lead. And I’m so glad for you. I’m telling Luke now—okay. I’ll let him know. Get some sleep, honey. We’ll check in tomorrow.” She set down the phone, looked at Luke. “Jason left a message on her machine.”

“And I’m guessing there wasn’t a contact number,” Luke said.

“No. But he said he sent a postcard—he’s not supposed to do that anymore,” Laura said. “She  told him not to. But he did it anyway. And he mentioned he was in Oregon, in a place where the waterfront reminded him of home.”

Luke squinted, flipping through his mental files. He hadn’t had to spend much time in Oregon—he was more familiar with Washington. “The waterfront? Most of Oregon’s coast is ocean. That wouldn’t really be like here.”

“Does Oregon have a lot of lakes?”

“Yeah, uh—” He scratched his temple. “Mostly in the west, on the other side of the Cascades. None that really put me in the mind of Ontario—maybe Goose Lake. I haven’t been out that way in a good fifteen years. I’ll make some calls. He might not mean the water itself,” Luke mused as he went to the phone, dialed in a number. “But the docks. Jason spent a lot of time there after he left home. Maybe he means a place with an actual waterfront—yeah,  Jimmy. It’s Spencer. Don’t—listen, I need you to get me some information. Oregon waterfront. Any place with docks that might make you think of Port Charles. Okay. Okay.” He hung up. “Might take a few days—”

“But it’s something. We need to make this happen, Luke. I couldn’t—there wasn’t a lot we could do for Lucky. He wouldn’t let us. But this—we can do this.” Laura folded her arms, almost hugging herself. “Elizabeth’s already told Sonny,” she reminded him. “I want you to talk to him. You should work together—”

Luke winced. “We haven’t—”

“He didn’t set that fire, Luke, and we’ve both frozen him out too long,” Laura told him. “It was an accident. A terrible, tragic accident. And the girl who might have been our daughter-in-law needs us. This is more important. Will you do it?”

Astoria, Oregon

Riverwalk Inn: Lobby

Jason dropped his key on the desk, and waited impatiently for the clerk to give him a final bill so that he could pay and get out of here.

Staying longer had been a mistake—he’d let himself dwell on memories of Port Charles, and he’d broken his promise to Elizabeth. She’d only asked him for one thing — just one. Don’t contact her. No postcards, and that definitely extended to messages on machines on the anniversary of one of the worst days of her life—

Had he made today worse for her? Brought it all back—what if she had finally started to move past everything that had happened between them and—

“I hope you enjoyed your stay, Mr. Morgan,” the clerk chirped. She slid over the bill. “Will that be cash or credit?”

“Cash.” Jason skimmed the invoice, then slapped down some bills, making a note to stop at a bank in the next few days. He was starting to run low. The clerk returned his change and he left. Something about the air in this town had made him want something he wasn’t ready for, and he wasn’t going to break any more promises.

And I’d give up forever to touch you
‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be
And I don’t want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
And sooner or later, it’s over
I just don’t wanna miss you tonight
– Iris, Goo Goo Dolls

---

Saturday, March 25, 2000

Studio

The moment he’d learned about her grandmother’s death, Jason had known he’d come back. He wasn’t even sure he meant to talk to her. He’d waited outside the building to get a glimpse, though he wasn’t even sure what he was really looking for.

He’d just wanted to see if she was all right. To see for himself that she was handling it. It had been two months since he’d stood in this hallway and said goodbye.

Bobbie had dropped her off, and he’d watched the nurse walk Elizabeth to the front of the building, holding her hands. Elizabeth had given that smile he knew so well — the one that didn’t reach her eyes — and he knew — he knew sitting back wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t stand by when he knew she needed him.

Elizabeth’s slight frame finally stopped trembling and she stepped back, swiping her at her tears, forcing herself to laugh. “What a terrible way to say hello,” she managed. She stepped back, and flipped on a larger light in the studio. “Come in.”

Jason closed the door, grimacing at the flimsy lock and shaded window. Then looked back at Elizabeth, unsure what to say. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back for her service. I didn’t talk to Sonny until Thursday.”

She had wandered over to the wall, to a board where his postcards were pinned. “Were you still in Arizona?” she asked softly. She tapped the board, then turned to him. “That’s the last one I got.”

“No, I—I was in Texas.” Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing around the room. There were more canvases, he realized. Smaller ones than she’d painted when he’d stayed here. Sketches lined all of the tables. “Sonny said you were doing something with your art. That you’re not at Kelly’s anymore.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, her features tightening, and he wondered if he’d said something wrong. Maybe this was a mistake. He should have stayed away—

“I would have told you myself.” Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at him. “But you never called.”

“I know.”

“You left messages for Emily. You called Sonny.” Her voice faltered. “But I got postcards.” She flicked the one from Arizona. “With just with a date and your name.”

He hunched his shoulders, and his stomach rolled. What could he say? How could he explain that for every postcard he managed to put in the mail, he’d collected maybe three or four more filled with words he could never send.  “I’m sorry. I tried to call—”

“It’s fine.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, flashed him a bright smile that pinched at her eyes, and made him feel two feet tall. “Thank you for coming. I know you and my grandmother didn’t exactly get along, but I appreciate it. I have a lot to do before I head back to her place, so—”

She started for the door, reaching for the knob, to send him on his way, and he knew he should just go. That this was all wrong, and he never should have come, but he couldn’t stand — couldn’t bear to be one more person she couldn’t trust with the truth —

He grabbed her hand as she passed him, and she turned to him, the smile gone and the misery shimmering in her eyes. “I tried to call,” he repeated. “But I knew if I heard your voice, I’d come back.”

Elizabeth turned to face him, her eyes searching his. “And you’re not ready,” she murmured.

“No.” He wanted to be. And maybe he could make it work — maybe — “I tried to call, but I couldn’t do it. And I didn’t know what to write. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent anything. I just—” Jason reached for her other hand, drew her closer so that their bodies brushed. “I didn’t want you to think you didn’t matter. That I didn’t miss you.”

She sighed, but didn’t say anything. He continued, “Would it have been better not to send them?” he asked. “I’ll stop. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t know the answer to that.” She dropped her forehead against his chest and they stood there for a long moment. “I just…I miss you. So much. I don’t want to, but I don’t know how to stop. And now—” Elizabeth raised her  head so that their eyes met. Tears shimmering in her eyes, caught in her lashes, then slowly sliding down her cheeks. He let go of her hands to cup her face, using his thumbs to dry them. “I had to stay. I still do. And my grandmother—” Her shoulders started to tremble again, and he wrapped her in his arms again. “I haven’t really cried. Not since Bobbie called me. There was so much to do, and there still is—and I just don’t know how to make any of it stop.”

“I do,” he said. Elizabeth drew back, frowned at him. “For a little while,” Jason added. “I left my bike at the airport in Texas, but I rented one here.”

“You have a bike?” Elizabeth’s lips curved into a slight smile. “Can I drive?”

Vista Point

The night was cool, on the border between comfortable and chilly. Elizabeth’s cheeks felt a bit frozen from the wind rushing past as Jason had taken the turns too fast — just the way she liked. For the first time since Monday morning, she hadn’t had to think. Everything had gone away, and all she could think or feel about was the air, the engine, and how good it felt have to her arms wrapped Jason, laughing and losing her breath at the turns—

It was still cloudy, and the stars weren’t that visible, not even from this point. She stood at the railing, tilting her head up to the sky, her eyes closed.

“You can drive on the way back,” Jason offered. She smiled, but didn’t open her eyes.

“No, it’s okay. I like the way you take the turns.” She wanted the world to disappear, to stay gone, so that she could keep living in this moment.

Because a moment was all they would ever have.

Elizabeth opened her eyes and turned, leaning back against the railing. “You went to New Orleans.”

“Yeah.” He leaned back against the railing, too, their arm brushing. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I saw the date was Mardi Gras. Were you really on Bourbon Street for that?” Elizabeth asked tipping her head.

“Not after dark,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “I knew it’d be crowded but it was worse than Luke’s on a busy night.” He folded his arms. “But the city was nice. I liked the buildings.”

“Yeah, part of the city is really old,” she murmured. “The French Quarter, especially.” She thought about what he’d written. “You said you wished I was there so I could explain the drawings. Tell me about them.”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “There was this street artist. She was, um, drawing their heads really big, and their bodies small. I didn’t—I didn’t know why anyone would want that—”

“Caricatures,” she told him. “They’re supposed to be exaggerated. You see them a lot in political cartoons, but they can be really quick to draw. A lot of street artists specialize in them.” Her smile was wistful. “I wish I’d been there with you. To see them. What was it like? Mardi Gras?”

“Everything smelled like vomit,” he said, his expression dark and she laughed. They fell into silence for a long moment.

“Where are you going next?” she asked finally.

Jason didn’t answer at first. Then — “I don’t know. I thought I’d…I can stay for a few days.”

A few days. Wouldn’t that be nice? Elizabeth turned around to look at the lake, though the water was almost impossible to see at this time of night. They could take a few rides, spend the nights together—

And then he’d go.

“You came back to check on me,” Elizabeth said softly. “Is that why you’d stay?”

“I—” Jason grimaced. “Yeah,” he admitted. “And to see my grandmother. But—”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” she found herself saying, hating herself for it. “Because if you’re not ready to be back—” She cleared her throat. “I just—”

“Yeah. I know.” He stepped away from the railing, held out his hand. “I’ll take the long way back. There are more turns.”

“Sounds good. Um, I’m staying at my grandmother’s right now at night,” she said as they returned to the parking lot. He handed her the helmet. “You remember where she lives—lived,” she correctly softly.

“Yeah, I do.” He switched on the engine, then waited for her to climb on behind him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, wishing she could be foolish and run away with him. Wishing it could be different.

Hardy House: Porch

He shouldn’t have come.

It had been selfish to just show up and reopen all those wounds, and why had he offered to stay? He knew he couldn’t. He could barely bring himself to speak to Sonny on the phone, and still flinched at the thought of another showdown with Carly — or worse, walking away from Michael.

Nothing had changed in the last two months. He’d had to go, and Elizabeth still had her reasons for staying.

He followed her to the front door and waited as she took out the keys.

But instead of unlocking the door, she held them in her hand and turned to face him, her features just barely visible in the dim porch light that had switched on as they approached. Another doorway, another goodbye.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. She smiled, and he liked that it was real. That it was genuine. He’d done that at least. “For coming. Especially because I know why you left. I really—” Her smile faltered, and her voice faded. “I really needed you.”

And she hadn’t been able to tell him. To ask for him. He was selfish—controlling the communication, not giving her any way to get in touch with him. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to promise he’d always come when she needed him. How could he keep it?

And maybe they shouldn’t be making promises to each other.

Elizabeth bit down on her bottom lip, then turned back to the door, sliding in her key and turning it. He heard the tumblers slip and slide—and then the door was open, the living room shadowed. No one was home.

She faced him again, opened her mouth, then closed it, staring down at the ground. What was left to say? What could he offer her that wouldn’t hurt? Even goodbye—

“I think about you all the time,” he found himself saying, the words just falling out of his mouth without permission. But once he’d started— “In New Orleans. And in Miami, that postcard—it had these colors that made me think about you. In Arizona, I was hiking up this mountain and I remember you were talking about light and how it hit things differently—and how you had to change the way you painted—”

“Jason—”

“And the caves. The way the sound echoed when the tour guide spoke — I wanted to hear your voice—” He swallowed hard. “I told myself I was being stupid. That the next time I thought about you I should just call you.”

“But you didn’t.” Elizabeth’s hand clenched around the keys she still held. “Why? Why couldn’t you just—”

“Because I’d get angry,” Jason admitted. He closed his eyes. “Because I can’t come back. I want to. But then I start thinking about going back to work, and I can’t do it—And I don’t want to ask you to come with me again. Because I know you can’t.”

Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment, and he wondered if he’d made another mistake. If he should have just stayed silent.  Then she tucked the keys into her purse, then tossed it inside the empty house.

She closed the distance between them—less than two feet——fisted her hands in his shirt, then kissed him, stretching up on the tips of her toes. He hadn’t been expecting it—couldn’t have seen it coming—but that was what he’d missed most about her—the way she’d say or do something unexpected and turn everything upside down—

She’d done that when she’d told him to go, asking him for a night before he went. And now—he left his hands clenched into fists at his side for just a moment, not wanting to give in because, oh, it would hurt so much when he had to let her go, but—

He lost the internal battle before it had really begun—dragging her up against him, his hands lost in her hair—he’d missed everything about her, the way she felt against him, how every curve and line fit his, the scent and taste, the way her hair felt like silk sliding through his fingers—

Panting, gasping for breath, Jason drew back after a long moment, their lips still close enough to share the same air. “It’s a mistake,” he murmured.

“I’ll worry about it tomorrow,” Elizabeth breathed, and they dove back in. Jason lifted her in his arms, walked into the house, and kicked the door closed behind them.

Sunday, March 26, 2000

Hardy House: Elizabeth’s Bedroom

Elizabeth curled up next to Jason, tucking her head in the crook of his shoulder and he tightened his arms around her. They lay there in silence, but she knew he was awake. She hadn’t done more than doze as the night crawled towards dawn. It was still early, maybe four.

She wasn’t sorry. This couldn’t be a mistake. She wouldn’t let it be.

His fingers traced her bare shoulder lightly, sliding up and down, the movement comforting. Elizabeth could imagine a lifetime of nights like these, spending hours in bed, catching naps in between, sleepy and sated as the sun rose—

But there wasn’t a lifetime. There couldn’t be.

“Where else do you want to travel?” she asked softly. He didn’t answer for a long time, and she wondered if he just wouldn’t. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about where he was going. Or where he’d been.

“Mexico,” he said after a long moment. “And California, I think. I like the sun.”

She smiled, tilting her head, resting her chin on his chest so their eyes could meet. “I bet your hair would get streaked in the sun. You’d pass for a surfer.”

“I’d try it,” Jason said, with a slight shrug. “It looks like fun.”

“No thanks. I have the grace of a barnyard animal.” Her smile turned wistful and she turned her face away, remembering too late it wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t be there to watch him surf. She’d made that decision. It was the right one. She knew it.

“Lucy Coe asked me to help design the Nurse’s Ball — the color scheme, and decorations. To make the poster and the t-shirt,” she continued. She closed her eyes. “It’ll be a lot of fun, I think. And I finished my first freelance contract. They already gave me a second one—”

“Hey—” Jason sat up, and Elizabeth reluctantly followed suit. He touched her face, his eyes barely visible in the darkness. “You don’t have to justify why you’re staying, Elizabeth.”

“I—” She sucked in a harsh breath. “I wasn’t—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I was reminding myself,” she said softly. “Of why I can’t go with you and learn how to surf.”

Jason sighed. They laid back down, and he drew her close again, this time stroking her hair. “I’m still figuring myself out,” she continued. “I want a home. I have one here, and even when it hurts, it’s more than I ever had before. I never belonged back in Colorado. With my parents. Sarah and Steven. I belong here. Laura and Bobbie and Emily — and—”

“I’m glad you have that,” Jason told her. “Finding a place—that wasn’t ever a problem for me,” he continued. “I never needed much. I had the boxcar, and I stayed on the docks, too. And then Sonny gave me a place to stay. I—” He was quiet for a long moment. “After the accident, I just kept moving forward. It was hard, but I didn’t care about the Quartermaines. They couldn’t hurt me because their opinions didn’t matter.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “I wish I could say the same about my family.”

“It’s different now,” he murmured. “It hurts to breathe here. I don’t know why. It doesn’t make sense. Port Charles is just a place. But just driving inside the city limits—”

“And that’s why you still have to go.” She traced her fingers over his chest. “I know. But not yet. We still have a little time.”

Jason tugged her across him, slid his fingers in her hair and drew her down for another kiss. “Then let’s not waste it.”

Hardy House: Porch

Jason stepped out onto the porch, the sun already tucked behind some clouds. Elizabeth came out behind him, a thin long-sleeved shirt that didn’t offer much warmth. She folded her arms tightly.

He could stay longer, he knew. But she didn’t want him to. Or more correctly — she knew he was uncomfortable here. And it was delaying the inevitable.

“Jason—” Elizabeth bit her lip and peered up at him, her eyes shadowed. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” he said, cocking his head to the side, unsure where she was going.

“But,” she continued, softly, “it got easier. A little bit,” she added. “And then another postcard would come, and I’d remember all over again.” She swallowed hard. “It was a mistake, I think, not to say goodbye the first time.”

His breath caught and he looked away, blindly out over the street. Was she right? Had her refusal to close the door in January kept them both tied to one another? Was that why he couldn’t stop thinking of her?

“You don’t want me to write.”

“It’s not that—I want you to write. I want you to call—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I want you to stay.”

“And I want you to go,” he finished, understanding what she meant. What they wanted was different than what they needed. “Okay. I won’t—I won’t write.”

“Okay. Okay.” Elizabeth opened her eyes, and he was sorry to see them swimming with tears again. “But I’m so glad you came back.” She stepped forward, clasping the sides of his jacket and leaning up to kiss him again. He held her lightly, wishing it could be forever.  “I didn’t even know how much I needed you until you showed up.” She touched his cheeks, then smiled, even as tears continued to fall. “I want you to be happy, Jason. You give so much of yourself to everyone else. Promise me you’ll try to find happiness.”

“I promise,” he murmured. He rested his forehead against hers. “As long as you make me the same one.”

“I do.”

With great reluctance and effort, Jason stepped back. He needed to say it. They needed to say it this time. But he couldn’t.

“Goodbye,” Elizabeth managed. She closed her hands into fists, then folded her arms. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too. Goodbye.”

They stared at each for another long moment, but somewhere, Jason found the strength to turn, to walk down the steps and go towards his bike. By the time he reached it and looked back, she was gone.

But I wish that you were here with me
Well then there’s hope yet
I can see your face in our secret place
You’re not just a memory
Say goodbye to yesterday
Those are words I’ll never say 
– This Used To Be My Playground, Madonna

---

Saturday, March 11, 2000

Kelly’s: Dining Room

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Bobbie declared with a smile. She set the diner’s receipts and invoices aside as Elizabeth took a stool next to her at the counter. “I haven’t seen you since your last shift.”

“Yeah, I wanted to really dive into the new job,” Elizabeth said, with a wince. And put some distance between her old life and the new.

“How’s it going? Are you happy with it?”

“Mostly,” Elizabeth said. “It’s not really what I wanted to do with my art,” she continued with a sigh, “but I just got the first paycheck, and no offense—” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s twice as much as I would have made here. Even with tips.”

“No offense taken.” Bobbie squeezed her hand. “I always knew you were meant for better and brighter things.” Her smile faded slightly. “I expected to lose you last year. You and Lucky, off to New York.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth waited as Penny set a miniature tea kettle next to her cup. She poured water, then set some tea in to steep. “That’s part of the reason I wanted to stop in. Laura left a voicemail asking me to come to dinner this week. She said she’d invited the entire family, and I was wondering if you knew who that meant. I didn’t know how to ask her—”

“She asked me to come as well. I told her that you might not be comfortable attending if Nikolas were there. She seemed a bit surprised, but agreed.” Bobbie tipped her head.

“You didn’t tell her about that day here? About the fight?”

“I couldn’t.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “She’s starting to bounce back and look like her old self. Luke’s home and he’s with them more now. Things are sort of getting back to normal, and the one thing that Laura has is that Nikolas is part of her life now. Luke has sort of accepted him.” She met Bobbie’s eyes. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“The specifics, no. Laura knew the gossip around the Christmas party and Nikolas’s part in it,” Bobbie reminded her. “I just let her think that you and Nikolas haven’t really resolved that.”

“He hasn’t reached out. I don’t even know what I’d say to him if he did—”

“Don’t feel like you have to forgive him on Laura’s account. If she knew the things he’d said to you—”

“Bobbie—” Elizabeth stopped as the diner door swung open and Carly stalked in. She stopped short when she saw her mother at the counter with Elizabeth. Then set her face in a determined expression and approached.

“Mama,” Carly said coolly, leaning down to kiss Bobbie’s cheek. She looked at Elizabeth and pursed her lips. “Elizabeth. My mother said you got a new job. Something with art.”

“I did.”

“That’s good.” Carly pulled out the extra chair, took seat between them. Elizabeth tensed, her fingers tightening around her water glass. “Do you like it?”

“So far.” Unsure what Carly was doing, Elizabeth didn’t really know what to do. She hated how worried Bobbie looked, the way the older woman’s eyes kept darting back and forth between them. Bobbie meant so much to her — “Uh, I saw in the paper that you’re doing some charity thing at the hotel.”

“A benefit for cancer,” Carly said with a terse nod. “For breast cancer. Because of Monica,” she added. “I was hoping you might buy a ticket,” she said to her mother. “And, uh, maybe you and your grandmother,” she added almost as an afterthought to Elizabeth.

“Of course. For Monica.”

“I’ll talk to Gram,” Elizabeth said. “I’m sure she’d want to go. Thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome. I need to go. I’ll call you later.” Carly rose and left. Bobbie twisted in her seat to watch her daughter leave.

“That was strange,” Elizabeth murmured. “Not bad strange, just—”

“I’m hoping Carly is making the best of her situation,” Bobbie said finally. “But with her, you can never tell. Thank you for going along with it.”

“Carly and I don’t have to have any problems. We didn’t before, and with Jason gone—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “We don’t have to have any now. We weren’t friends. We still aren’t. We both love you, so I see no reason we can’t be civil.”

“Thank you,” Bobbie repeated, squeezing her hand. “And I meant what I said about Nikolas. Laura will understand how you feel. What he did—what he said—was cruel. And she’d respect your decision to keep your distance.”

Elizabeth nodded, knowing Bobbie was right. But she didn’t want Laura to feel as though she had to choose between her deceased son’s girlfriend and her own son. The last thing Elizabeth wanted was Laura to be in the middle. Maybe it was for the best if Elizabeth just put more space between herself and Lucky’s family.

Monday, March 13, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

The phone had been ringing for nearly a full minute by the time Sonny was able to get through the front door. He snatched the receiver off the hook. “Hello?”

“Sonny.”

Sonny exhaled sharply, turned to look at Alexis who had followed him in. “Jason. Man, it’s good to hear from you.” Nearly two months without a word—Sonny had almost given up. “How are you?”

“Fine.” There was long pause. “Is everything okay there?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Sorel got smacked around a little bit by Vega’s guys and he’s mostly calmed down. He hasn’t gone near Elizabeth since you left.”

“Good.”

“Uh, how’s travels? You seen anything good?”

“It’s fine.” There was another long pause, but Sonny decided it was a good sign that Jason hadn’t broken the connection yet. And if he wasn’t going to ask, then Sonny would do it for him.

“She’s doing really good, you know. She left her job at Kelly’s and is doing something with her art—” Sonny looked at Alexis. “What did you say it was?”

“Greeting cards,” Alexis supplied. “She’s a freelancer.”

“Right. She’s doing art for greeting cards,” Sonny told Jason. “Have you—”

“I have to go.” The line went dead, but Sonny still waited. Hoped. And then the dial tone began to echo in his ear. He squeezed his hand around the receiver for a long moment, then gently placed it back on the receiver.

“It’s a good sign,” Alexis said when Sonny remained silent. “He called. You didn’t think he’d do that—”

“No. No, I didn’t.” Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up Elizabeth, but Sonny just—he wanted Jason to know she was all right. That she was doing something with her dream. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “This is my fault,” he muttered.

“A little bit. But you’re not the only reason he left,” Alexis reminded him, her matter of fact tone oddly reassuring. “You know it was because of Carly.”

“Yeah, but that’s still my fault.” Sonny could regret the hurt he’d caused Jason—and he certainly did—but he couldn’t regret the effect that terrible night had had. Jason had finally and firmly cut ties with Carly. He’d even started to move on. Just because Carly’s antics with Michael had been the final straw—

It didn’t mean Sonny was off the hook or that he could forgive himself.

“He called once, he’ll call again.” Alexis set her briefcase on the chair. “Do you want to tell Elizabeth?”

“No.” Sonny shook his head. “I don’t know if he’s keeping in touch with her, and if he’s not—” It might hurt for her to know Jason had contacted him. “If she asks, fine. But if not, I don’t see the point.”

Studio: Hallway

Elizabeth only made it halfway to her front door when she found the postcard. A month since the first one. Her breath caught as she let the other pieces of mail drop to the ground, holding the card with both hands.

It was from Bourbon Street in New Orleans, but the postmark was from Utah. He’d written more than just his name this time, but not by much. He’d written her name and the date — March 7—then a simple message. The street artists reminded me of you. I wish you could have explained what they were drawing.

March 7. That had been a Tuesday — he must have been in New Orleans for Mardi Gras. At least this time, he’d mailed it at the time of writing it.

She smiled at the thought of taciturn and solitary Jason Morgan wandering the insane streets on the wildest night of the year. She would have loved to see it—

Elizabeth knelt to retrieve the rest of her mail. She unlocked the door to the studio, and dumped everything on the table. She set the postcard next to the first one.

She’d been so happy to get the first card, even hopeful that it meant that he missed her. Maybe he’d come back. Maybe whatever he was looking for—he’d found it and they could take the next step.

But then there had been nearly another month of silence. Elizabeth was trying to accept that they’d missed their chance, that the timing wouldn’t be on their side. She hadn’t thought of him much since starting the new job, since planning to move—

Now, he’d sent another postcard. Was he thinking the same? Trying to move on? Not able to?

She wanted to believe it meant something, but he still hadn’t called her. He was still leaving messages for Emily, and she was sure he had checked in with Sonny, though she hadn’t asked. He hadn’t let her hear his voice.

Elizabeth grimaced, picked up the postcards, then dumped them in a drawer. She hoped Jason was having a good time in Utah, or wherever he was now. If he couldn’t bother to call her, she wasn’t going to waste her time looking for clues that didn’t exist. She had a life to live.

Benson, Arizona

Kartchner Caverns

Jason had only gone to Utah for a few days before drifting back to Arizona, this time, heading deeper into the state towards the Mexico border. He’d tossed the postcard in the mail, regretting it almost immediately. And that regret had pushed him into calling Sonny only to learn that she’d been right to stay behind. She was working with her art, just like she’d dreamed.

Maybe she didn’t even want to hear from him — he’d been gone two months and had done nothing but send a stupid postcard—two of them now, neither of which were good enough.  Why had he even bothered to send them? What was he even trying to do say? To say? What was the point?

Feeling oddly embarrassed by the whole thing, he’d checked out of the motel and gone south, thinking he needed to get further away this time. That he needed to get out of the country. And he needed to get Elizabeth out of his head entirely.

On the way down, he’d stopped at a bar and had nearly picked up the blonde down the end who’d been giving him signals. He’d even bought the woman—whose name he didn’t even remember now—a drink. But he couldn’t do it. Not yet. It felt like he’d be using her — and that wasn’t fair to her. Or to himself.

Maybe that was the answer, he thought as he followed the tour guide in the caves, arching his face up towards the strange formations twisting and turning out of the ceiling of the cave.  Maybe he just had to move on. Find somewhere else that could be home for a while. Constantly moving was part of the problem. Maybe he should stay in one place.

And he should just call Elizabeth. And his sister. Instead of postcards and messages on the answering machine. He’d survived calling Sonny, hadn’t he? What was the big deal? He was making it more important than it needed to be. The next time he was thinking of her, he’d just reach for the nearest phone and call.

Simple as that.

But he’d been lying to himself. Because he thought about Elizabeth five minutes later in the gift shop when he passed the postcards. He bought the usual four (did everyone sell them for a dollar like this?) and when he returned his motel room, instead of picking up the phone, he pulled out the postcards.

He wasn’t ready to hear her voice. Not yet.

Thursday, March 16, 2000

Studio

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Laura said, tugging off her coat. “I figured I had a better shot of catching you if I just showed up.”

“It’s fine.” Elizabeth took her brushes over to the sink and began to clean up. “I was about done for the day.”

Laura turned in a slow circle, taking in the various sketches and canvases that cluttered the small space. “You’ve really been hard at work since the last time I came by. These are beautiful—” She tilted her head as she took in a landscape of trees by a lake. “A bit sad,” she murmured.

“I guess that’s good. It’s for a condolences line,” Elizabeth said when Laura just looked at her. “They wanted some moody atmosphere landscapes for people to give at funerals.” Her smile was thin. “It was my first freelance contract.”

“Ah.” Laura backed away. “Well, you’ve done nailed it. They…they resemble some of the ones I got.” She looked back to Elizabeth. “So it’s going well? Bobbie said you’d stopped in for the first time in a few weeks and you looked happy.”

“Yeah, it’s good. I’m settling in.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I meant to call you back, but—”

“Bobbie explained there was still some awkwardness with Nikolas after Christmas. But that doesn’t have anything to do with me.” She tilted her head. “Will you let me take you out? Luke has Lulu tonight, so it would just be us.”

“I—” Elizabeth hesitated, then looked  back at Laura. “I don’t know.”

“I get the sense, and Bobbie does as well, that you’re using this job to push us away. You’ve left Kelly’s, even though the new job is freelance and you might want the extra income. You’re not returning calls, you’re not stopping by.”

“I’ve been busy—”

“Sweetheart, I’m just worried. It’s been almost a year—”

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore,” Elizabeth told her. “You or Bobbie. I’m okay now. And I’m moving on. Like you said, it’s been almost a year, and I’ve started to work towards my future—”

“Did you think the only reason either of us were looking in on you was becauseof Lucky?”

“No—” Elizabeth stared at the sink, watching as color seeped from the brush, pooling into the sink and disappearing into the drain. “No.”

Laura remained silent, but Elizabeth knew she wanted more. And maybe Elizabeth wanted to explain. Or try to. She set the brushes in the rack, grabbed a towel, and turned to face Laura, drying her hands. “After Lucky died, I was a mess. I tried so hard not to be, but I made things worse. I drifted in a fog, and I pretended to be okay, but when I was alone, I just—I wasn’t okay. I clung to everything that reminded me of Lucky. Kelly’s, especially. I kept the sweater he’d given me one night—” Tears burned in her eyes. “His family.”

“Elizabeth—”

“And it helped until it didn’t. I realized I was stuck, like I was in the mud and I couldn’t get free. But then I did. And I started to see tomorrow. And then—”

She stopped, but Laura’s eyes only grew kinder. “And then Jason left.”

“He—” Elizabeth stared at her hands. “I knew he had to go. I told him to. Carly and everything else here—it was drowning him, and I knew what that was like. He had to go.” Her voice broke. “And I begged him for a night. Just one. I never got that with Lucky, but I couldn’t let Jason go without it.”

“Oh, baby—” Laura came forward to pull Elizabeth into her arms, rocking slightly.

“He asked me to go with him. And I wanted to. I still do. But I couldn’t.” She closed her eyes. “I know I made the right decision, but every day I wake up and I wonder what if—”

“Why was it the right decision?” Laura asked.

“Because I was so lost without Lucky. I didn’t know who I was without him. Everything in my life I have because of him. You, Bobbie, Emily, that job at Kelly’s—everything was something that belonged to Lucky first. Giving up my life here—to follow Jason—my life would be tied to him. And then what—” Elizabeth sucked in a sharp, ragged breath. Stepping back. “What happens when it’s over? Where do I go? What do I have? Nothing. I’d disappear. So I told him no, and he’s gone. And I’m here trying to make it worth it. Trying not to resent him for leaving. For staying gone. Trying to make a life that belongs only to me—”

“And you think that means you have to walk away from the people that belonged to Lucky?” Laura swept Elizabeth hair off her shoulders, tucking it behind her ears, then cupping her face. “Sweetheart, what makes you think Bobbie and I are going to let that happen? Lucky belonged to us, but now so do you—”

“It’s not—”

“You gave my son a taste of happiness, of real, true love that most people don’t find in a lifetime. I’ll always rage at the world that he didn’t have more time—” And now Laura had to struggle for a breath. “But he had you, and I thank God for it. But that’s not why I love you. It’s not why Bobbie treasures you, and it’s not why Ruby hired you in the first place.”

Elizabeth searched the older woman’s eyes. “It’s not?”

“You came over to my house,” Laura reminded her, “and told me that we had more in common than just our last name. Because of you, because of your courage, I had the strength to face the truth about what had happened to me. You never had the chance to become my daughter by marriage,” she continued, “but you are still mine. And Bobbie loves you just the same. I promise that.”

“I feel so silly—” Elizabeth laughed slightly, a hysterical giggle that escaped her lips. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. I’m so proud of you for knowing what you needed and doing it. I’m sure it must have been so hard to tell Jason no, but you did. Are you sorry?”

“Yes. And no. No.” Elizabeth drew back, took a deep breath. “I’m sorry that the timing was wrong. That we couldn’t have longer. But I’m not sorry I stayed. I needed to be here. I need to be me. Just me. I need to know who I am.”

“Good.” Laura kissed her forehead.  “Let’s get dinner. We’ll try that Italian place on the other side of town. No chance of Carly over there.”

Friday, March 17, 2000

Studio

She nearly missed the postcard again.

It was tucked inside a bundle of advertisements and circulars from the local stores that Elizabeth always threw out—but the corner of the card stuck out of the trash can, its stamp visible above the rest of the chunk.  She really hadn’t expected another one so soon.

On the heels of the conversation with Laura, Elizabeth nearly left it where it sat. What good would it to do to look at whatever he’d written, see where he’d been? Moving on and building that new identity was the plan, not wallowing in what ifs and nevers.

Finally, she plucked it out of the garbage. This card was from Arizona — Kartchner’s Caverns, the glossy print proclaimed, home of the world’s largest stalactite formation! She smiled, though the image of Jason on a guided tour in a cave wasn’t nearly as entertaining as his braving the crowds at Mardi Gras.

It was postmarked on March 13, that same week, and that was the same date on the card. There was no message this time. Only his name, and her address. She sighed, then went to put it away with the others.

Was there no message because he didn’t have anything to say? Or because there was too much? What would she even say if he finally called her? What would the point be? If he wasn’t coming home—

But that wasn’t fair. He hadn’t left because he wanted to, but because he’d needed to. And Elizabeth knew if she’d asked him to, he would have stayed. Before everything had changed, they had been friends. And Jason was reaching out. Maybe he didn’t know how to navigate their friendship with everything in between. But he was trying. And if he ever did call, she’d answer.

But until then, she was going to keep her head down and move forward, and hope one day, she’d look up and be happy where she was standing.

She took the postcards out of the drawer where she’d hidden them away, and pinned them on a bulletin board above her artist’s table, where she had hung magazines and photos that inspired her.

Hard to be sure
Sometimes I feel so insecure
And loves so distant and obscure
Remains the cure
All by myself
Don’t wanna be
All by myself
Anymore
– All By Myself, Celine Dion

---

Monday, March 20, 2000

Studio

Since leaving school and her job at Kelly’s, Elizabeth’s schedule was all over the place. She stayed up, painting until dawn streaked across the sky, then slept until the sun was gone again.  And she almost always slept through the ringing of the phone, not that it was ringing off the hook these days.

This morning, however, it broke into her dreams and the shrill sound forced her to sit up. The phone stopped ringing — then started again. As if who ever was on the other line had hung up when the answering machine had picked up, and tried again.

Concerned, Elizabeth reached for the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Elizabeth?”

“Bobbie?” Elizabeth’s hand tightened around the receiver. The other woman’s voice sounded a bit hoarse, as if she’d been crying. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, sweetheart. I—we were at work this morning, and your grandmother—she didn’t show up. There was no answer—I’m sorry, honey. We found her at the house.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, braced herself. “She—in her sleep? Please…tell me—”

“It looked like she’d gone to sleep last night and never—I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.”

Her brain froze. Elizabeth couldn’t speak, couldn’t create the words. But she must have made a sound. “Elizabeth? Baby, you still there?”

“Bobbie—” Her voice broke. “I—I can’t—”

“I’ll be right there. Don’t you worry. I’m coming to get you. You’re not alone, sweetheart. I’ll be right there.”

Tuesday, March 21, 2000

Hardy House: Living Room

Bobbie pressed a mug of hot chocolate into Elizabeth’s hands and took a seat next to her as Alexis sorted through the paperwork in her lap. “I wish you’d let me get you something to eat—”

“I couldn’t.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “We can hold off on this, Alexis. Um, I’m still waiting to hear from my parents—”

“We can do a more formal reading of the will if they wish,” Alexis told her. “But there’s really no reason to wait for them.” She paused. “Audrey didn’t leave Jeff or Caroline anything.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth frowned. “Steven and Sarah aren’t coming either—it’s the short notice with their programs. Um, Steven said he might be able to get here in a few weeks, but Sarah’s slammed with her first year of med school—” Her stomach pitched. “Uncle Tom—he said he wouldn’t be able to get transportation out of Zimbabwe until the end of the month—” She closed her eyes. “I can’t wait that long to bury her. I mean, I could, but—”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Bobbie said with a short nod. “Audrey should be laid to rest with Steve now.”

“The estate is pretty straightforward,” Alexis told Elizabeth. “Audrey revised her will  two months ago. She’d had Tom as her executor, but as he hadn’t been in town for several years, and you had turned eighteen, she felt more confident in naming you.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t realize. What does an executor do?”

“Signs all the paperwork,” Bobbie said. She squeezed Elizabeth’s knee. “You know Alexis will take good care of you. And Laura and I are here—”

“I know. Um, okay. So I’m the executor. What else?”

“Your grandfather made several smart investments,” Alexis said, “which left Audrey very comfortable after he passed away. There were trust funds for her grandchildren—you and Tommy Junior come into that when you turn twenty-one. Steven and Sarah have theirs already. She directed that her estate should be liquidated and divided into quarters for her grandchildren, save for the real estate. The house she left to you.”

“The house—” Elizabeth stared at Alexis. “To me?” And there was a trust fund?

“Minus the house and the trust funds, Audrey’s estate was worth almost two million. After the inheritance tax is deducted from your share, you should inherit around three hundred thousand.”

“Three—” Elizabeth looked at Bobbie who seemed as stunned as she was. “Did you know Gram had that kind of money?”

“No. No. But—” Bobbie took a deep breath. “Steve grew up in the Depression, and was always very frugal. It doesn’t surprise me that he made smart investments. Audrey never spoke about money, I only knew she and Steve never seemed to worry.”

Elizabeth hadn’t really worried much about money until December when she’d taken over her own rent and had had to balance her own checking account for the first time, but that really wasn’t the same thing. “Are you sure about the house? That’s—she didn’t leave anything for Tom?”

“He had his own trust fund,” Alexis said. “And according to Lee’s notes, Audrey sold some investments to help Tom set up his clinic and fund it.”

Elizabeth set the mug on the coffee table with a clatter, got to her feet and went towards the fireplace. She’d struggled to process any of this—hadn’t really had a clear mind since the phone call the morning before.

Her grandmother was gone. She’d died peacefully in her sleep, and now Elizabeth was listening to Alexis talk about trust funds and estate taxes— She simple felt frozen. Numb. Nothing made sense anymore.

“We don’t have to do anything today,” Alexis said. “I just wanted to let you know about the estate—”

“Gram updated her will two months ago,” Elizabeth said. She turned to face Alexis. “In January?”

“Yes.”

After that terrible fight in December. “Before or after Jason left?”

Alexis frowned. “After.”

After Audrey would have learned about Elizabeth dropping out of PCU. Was that why she’d made Elizabeth the executor? Given her the house? To make sure her granddaughter didn’t end up homeless? Penniless?  “It’s not fair,” she said softly. “Dad and Uncle Tom should have had something. A-and I don’t—” She looked at Bobbie. “I could sell the house, couldn’t I?”

“You could. But I hope you don’t think you’re responsible for giving Jeff or Tommy anything. They chose to make their lives far away from Port Charles. Jeff sent you and Sarah here for Audrey to raise.” Bobbie pressed her lips together. “And Tommy left the country which meant Audrey had no real connection to his son. Audrey knew what she was doing, Elizabeth. You don’t have any obligation to do more.”

“I guess.” She folded her arms. “Um, I guess you should at least get started on what Gram wanted. That liquidation thing, you know. Do I need to sign anything for that?”

“I’ll get the paperwork together for it.” Alexis got to her feet. “Audrey loved you very much, Elizabeth. She wanted you to know that you would have always have a home in Port Charles. That’s why she left you the house. So you could always come back.”

Thursday, March 23, 2000

Kelly’s: Diner

Nikolas stared at the front page of the Port Charles Herald, at the photograph of Audrey Hardy just above the fold. With her connection General Hospital, her death and obituary had merited front page news.

Once he would have learned about Elizabeth’s grandmother from her—but it had been months since they had been close. Not since that terrible night on her birthday. He set the paper aside. If she insisted on holding a grudge, refusing to forgive him, there really wasn’t much that he could do to fix it.

The bell above the door jingled, and Nikolas turned to see who had entered, his face lighting up when he saw Emily step in. “Emily!”

“Oh. Hey.” She smiled back at him, then crossed to his table, hugging him tightly. “I was stopping in for something to eat before I headed over to the funeral home.” She set her coat and bag on the empty chair, then reached for the newspaper he had discarded. “It was a nice tribute, wasn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

“Are you going to the service? It’s open to the public. At least part of it.” Emily’s brown eyes were hopeful. “You don’t even have to go to see Elizabeth. You can sit in the back—”

“Elizabeth made it quite clear what she thought of me.” Nikolas took his seat, picked up his coffee. “I tried to talk to her after your brother walked out on her, but she never returned my calls. I can take the hint—”

“Nikolas.” Emily sat down. “We’ve lost so much this year,” she told him softly. “And Elizabeth has lost her grandmother. We’re her family. We can make this right. If you just go to the viewing—”

“She doesn’t want me there—”

“It’s not enough to apologize,” Emily said with a shake of her head. “You have to show that you mean it.” She paused. “Losing Audrey so close to the anniversary—and yes, Elizabeth also lost Jason, though that was different—”

“That was a good thing,” Nikolas said tightly, and Emily made a face. “It was. He was going to get her killed—”

“I don’t want to debate about my brother again. It’s just going to make me angry.” Emily sighed. “Can’t you just try to reach out? Show her you’re still here if she’s ready to listen—Nikolas, Audrey was her family. Basically her mother. And now she’s gone.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nikolas said finally. “But she won’t want me there.”

“Maybe not. But if you don’t start somewhere, you’ll both be lost to each other. We were so close, Nikolas. All of us.” Her eyes shimmered. “Please don’t let us lose that. We’ve lost so much already.”

Funeral Home

She didn’t look like she was sleeping.

It was a ridiculous thought that slipped into Elizabeth’s mind as she approached her grandmother’s casket. They had arranged for a private viewing before opening to the public, so Elizabeth was alone in the room. Staring down at the body in the coffin.

Her grandmother’s hair had been styled, and she wore a soft pink suit that Elizabeth remembered from her high school graduation. Audrey Hardy had never been elaborate with her jewelry, so she wore only her wedding rings and a bracelet that her husband had given her.

“Elizabeth?”

Laura stepped forward, dressed in a simple black dress, a black coat over her arm. She set her things on a chair and joined Elizabeth, putting an arm around her shoulders. “How are you?”

“I thought it would help to see her,” Elizabeth admitted. Her fingers were trembling as she brushed her hair out of her eyes. “That I could see her at peace and I could—I could let go of all the regrets.” She looked at Laura. “We fought so much since I moved here. It’s been better these last few months, but I think she was just doing a better job of hiding her disappointment.”

“Audrey was never disappointed in you,” Laura said softly. She squeezed Elizabeth’s hands. “Speaking as a parent, I can say that honestly. We say things we don’t mean, and maybe we’re not happy about choices our children make. But disappointment? Never. She loved you, Elizabeth.”

“I just—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “She was there for me. And she cared what I was doing. She never gave up on me—I thought I could look at her and apologize, but that’s not her.”

She looked at body with her grandmother’s face. “She’s empty. She’s not there anymore, and I can’t ever tell her how much I loved her—”

“She’s not in that body, no. But she’s with us. She’ll always be with us.” Laura led Elizabeth to a seat. “Just like Lucky. They’re in the air we breathe, the words we speak, the way we feel. You’ll hear her voice, you’ll be able to see her in your mind. She knows how much you love her, Elizabeth. Parents always know.”

On a shaky breath, Elizabeth exhaled. “Thank you.” She looked back at the casket and sighed again. “Thank you.”

Twenty minutes later, the funeral director opened the double doors to allow the public in. Laura stayed by her side, and Bobbie joined her as mourners filed past Elizabeth and offered their blessings and final goodbyes.

“You came,” Elizabeth said with a watery smile, embracing Emily. “I thought you said you had a test—”

“What’s the point of being a Quartermaine if you can’t pull some weight?” Emily asked with an arched brow. She hugged her friend again. “I’m so sorry. I would be wrecked without my grandparents.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, but then closed it when she saw Nikolas slip into the room and take a seat in the back. They made eye contact briefly, then his eyes dipped away. Elizabeth’s hand tightened slightly in Emily’s. “Did you say something to him?”

“I told him to come and just sit in the back. Not to come up.” Emily hesitated. “Was that wrong? We want to be here for you, but—”

“No.” Elizabeth smiled at her. “No. I know you meant well.” She still didn’t see herself forgiving Nikolas for the harsh things he’d said to her, but Emily’s heart was in the right place, and Elizabeth didn’t want her to be in the middle any more than she’d wanted Laura to be.

Emily’s family was also behind her, and Elizabeth managed to greet all of them—Edward, Monica, Alan, Ned—and then, near the end of the line, there was a surprise. Sonny stepped up, Alexis at his side. “I won’t stay,” he said softly as he embraced her. “I just wanted to offer my condolences. I know it’s not the same as having him here—”

Elizabeth’s throat tightened and she looked away. “Have you heard from him?”

Sonny hesitated. “Once.” He didn’t offer any details, and Elizabeth didn’t press. “What about you?”

“A few postcards,” Elizabeth admitted. “Thank you for coming, Sonny. I know you and Gram didn’t get along, but—”

“She was a classy lady who loved you. She gets my respect for that. You need anything, Elizabeth, all you have to do is ask.” Sonny kissed her cheek. Bobbie offered him a handshake while Laura simply looked away. Alexis murmured her own condolences before moving on.

True to his word, Sonny left but Alexis sat in an empty seat a few rows away from her nephew, and the funeral director began the service.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Later that evening, Sonny perused the latest contracts Alexis had sent over, but he couldn’t focus. He kept thinking about Audrey Hardy’s memorial service and the way Elizabeth had looked standing by the casket, all on her own. Laura and Bobbie had been there—but no one else from her family.

And even if it had been Carly’s fault Jason had decided to go—Sonny had started it all with that terrible night.

At his side, the phone on the desk began to ring. Sonny reached for it, answering without checking the caller screen.

“Corinthos.”

“Sonny?”

The connection was faint and the voice crackled, but Sonny would know it anywhere. He sat back in his chair, exhaled slowly. “Jason. I didn’t think I’d hear from you again.”

“Yeah. I—I wasn’t sure if I was gonna—” Jason’s voice faded out, then back in. “I guess I just wanted to see how things were.”

There really wasn’t anything else to say. No way to sugar coat it. “Audrey Hardy passed away on Monday.”

There was a long silence as Jason took in that information. “How—was it—”

“Natural causes. Bobbie went to check on her when Audrey didn’t report for work. She passed in her sleep.” Sonny waited, but Jason said nothing. “You still there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, um, how—how is—is Elizabeth okay?”

“She’s holding up. I went to the services today. Sent flowers. Laura and Bobbie are sticking close, and Emily came home to be with her.” Sonny paused. “I’m sure she’d like to hear from you. Your voice. Not just a postcard.”

“She told you about—” Jason’s voice was hesitant, a little more raspier but Sonny thought it might also be the connection. “She mentioned the—was she mad?”

“No. She didn’t seem to be. She looked tired, but I guess that’s to be expected.” Sonny tapped his fingers on his paperwork. “Listen. Jase—”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“No, I guess not. Can I get a number to contact you—”

“I’ll call you when I can.”

The connection broke then, so Sonny closed his phone and set it down. Without really thinking, he got to his feet, left the penthouse, and traveled the short distance between his penthouse and his lawyer’s.

Alexis opened the door after his knock, dressed in a pair of sweats, a bowl of popcorn in tucked in one arm. “Sonny? It’s almost nine—”

“Oh—” Sonny grimaced. He glanced behind her, saw the darkened sky in her window. “I didn’t realize.”

“Is something wrong?” Alexis demanded. “Are you being arrested? Raided?”

“No.” Sonny shook his head. “Never mind.”

He started to turn away, but his lawyer sighed. “You came over for a reason. What’s up?”

Sonny rubbed his thumb against his temple. “Jason just called me.”

“Come in.” Alexis jerked her head towards the sofa.

He followed her in, and Alexis closed the door behind her. She pressed pause on her remote, and Sonny wrinkled his nose at the television screen. “Is that Steel Magnolias?”

“The fact that you know which movie I’m watching means you’re not allowed to judge me.” She sat down and held out the popcorn.  “Did you tell him about Audrey Hardy?”

“Yeah. I suggested he call Elizabeth—but—” Sonny paused. “I don’t know what he’s going to do.” He took a handful of popcorn. “Mind if I stay for the rest of the movie?”

“As long as you don’t make fun of it.”

Friday, March 24, 2000

Kelly’s: Dining Room

“I’m trying not to hover,” Laura said, stirring sugar into her tea. She flashed Bobbie a commiserating smile. “But it’s hard not to wrap her up and make her come home with me.”

“I know.” Bobbie shook her head. “She’s just eighteen,” she murmured. “And she’s already been through so much. Why did this have to happen now?” She met Laura’s eyes. “We’re close to the first anniversary.”

“I know. A year since we lost him.” Laura forced herself to smile. “But he’d be happy that we’re coping. I think he would be, anyway.” She sipped her tea. “And I can see Elizabeth and Nikolas are still awkward with one another. I’d hoped they’d be able to put that Christmas party behind them—”

“There was—” Bobbie winced. “There was another fight,” she told Laura. “A bad one. Just before Jason left. She didn’t want me to get into the details—and it’s not as though she chose to confide in me,” she added when Laura just stared at her. “I was here when the fight happened. Nikolas was very angry that she was moving on—with Jason.”

“Ah.” Laura nodded. “I thought so. Elizabeth came to me shortly before Jason left, worried because she was considering a physical relationship with Jason, and feeling a bit guilty about not being ready when Lucky was—” She forced herself to say the next word. “When he was alive.”

Bobbie’s mouth tightened. “Nikolas threw that in her face. I could have murdered him—how dare—”

“I assured her that it was fine. That whatever she was ready for was the right decision, and that Lucky would not think less of her. But Nikolas is holding on to what happened — to our initial suspicions that Sonny’s enemies were behind the fire.”

“They weren’t—”

“I know. Luke’s assured me of that, and I know enough that if it had been Sonny and Jason—well—things would have happened afterwards. But Nikolas needs someone to blame, I suppose, and Jason is as good as anyone else. I—I didn’t get a chance to see them together. I just know that—well, I suspect it was serious. Or that it could be.”

“He was smitten with her,” Bobbie said. “And I knew she was falling. But they didn’t have a chance to see where it would go. Right person, wrong time—” She stopped. “Excuse me for a minute.”

Laura twisted to look as Bobbie got up and left the diner. Spying Carly in the courtyard, Laura’s curiosity waned and she reached for her tea.

“Mama—” Carly folded her arms. “I thought we were meeting for lunch, but you’re in there with Laura—”

“She stopped in—what’s the problem?” Bobbie wanted to know. “You don’t even know her—”

“No, but—” Carly bit her lip. “You were talking about her? Weren’t you?”

“Carly—”

“What else do you think and Laura have in common anymore?” Carly demanded. “Just her—”

“You know her name, Carly. And what’s the point of this?” Bobbie asked. “You just talked to Elizabeth last week. You were fine—”

“I’m trying to be,” Carly snapped. “If it weren’t for her—” She shook her head, and some of the irritation faded. “I’m trying to be fine. Making an effort with my marriage like you told me to. Accepting my future. But it’s hard. And then I saw that Audrey Hardy died, and I just—I don’t know. I thought maybe Jason would be here for the funeral.”

Bobbie narrowed her eyes. “Caroline—”

“Don’t look at me that way. I just went to the viewing. And tagged along with the burial. She never saw me.” Carly shrugged. “But he never showed.”

“And it cheers you up that he wasn’t here the day she buried her grandmother.” Bobbie threw up her hands. “Do you hear yourself?’

“I know it makes me a bad person,” Carly retorted. “I didn’t think I was a good one. But yeah, okay, it makes me feel better. Because he left me without looking back. That hurt. It nearly killed me. But he left her, too. Good. This was all her fault anyway.”

“I’m not doing this,” Bobbie said, disgusted. “Call me when you’re ready to grow up.” She yanked the diner door open and stalked back inside.

Saturday, March 25, 2000

Studio

It was a cold comfort, Elizabeth thought, as she stared at the paperwork she’d signed the day before at Alexis’s office. All this meant was that her family was gone. She hadn’t had a relationship with her parents in three years and neither of her siblings called or wrote all that much. Her grandfather had been gone for years, but Elizabeth had thought she and Audrey were on the edge of a new relationship—a better one, of equals.

They might have even become friends.

Instead, Elizabeth had a trust fund, an inheritance, a deed to a house, and no family to call her own.

She closed the folder, put it into the box with the rest of her important papers. She didn’t know if she was keeping the house, but she wanted her own bathroom again so she’d keep staying there at night. At least for now. She’d only come by here tonight to do some work—though she hadn’t managed it.

There was a knock at the door, and Elizabeth nearly ignored it. She was tired, and she knew it was probably Laura or Bobbie, who hadn’t wanted her to be alone these last few days. She’d gone to Laura’s for dinner earlier, so it was likely Bobbie, trying to get her to stay the night at the Brownstone.

Not a chance in hell if it meant Carly might pop over.

Elizabeth dragged herself to the door, not bothering with the shade to check into the hallway. “I’m fine—” She began as she opened the door, then simply stared.

“Hey.” Jason shifted, uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I should have called—”

“Jason.” She shoved the door open all the way, drinking in the sight of him, shadowed by the dim light of the hallway, the weak light of the studio filtering out. “Is that—is that really—what are—”

“I called Sonny.” Jason’s face softened. “He told me about your grandmother. I just—” He paused. “I got on a plane. I’m so sorry.”

He’d learned about her grandmother’s death and come back. Her body began to tremble. It started at her shoulders, then slowly spread until her hands were shaking. She pressed them to her face, drawing them back with confusion when she felt wet. She was crying.

Jason stepped forward and drew her into his arms, into his embrace, with his warmth and scent and everything she needed making her whole again—

And for the first time since her grandmother’s death, since Bobbie had come to fetch her, Elizabeth let herself break down and sob.

I try to say goodbye and I choke
Try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it’s clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
Goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it’s clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
– I Try, Macy Gray

---

Monday, March 27, 2000

Hardy House: Porch

Elizabeth stepped out and turned to slide the key into the deadlock, waiting to hear the tumblers click. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the coming days and weeks.

It was the first time she’d ventured out of the house since she’d stood in this spot the morning before and cut ties with Jason. She hadn’t even waited for him to drive away before she went inside, locking the door, worried that if she didn’t throw obstacles in front of her, she’d run after him.

It had been the right decision, she thought, to say goodbye. To ask him to stop writing. As much as it hurt—and it sliced through her even now to think of it—she needed the time. She needed the distance. And maybe he did, too. He’d left to find peace, and she’d stayed to have a home. How could either of them achieve those goals if they were still clinging to something that couldn’t happen?

Knowing it had been the right decision didn’t seem to help today. There would be no postcards from Jason, no phone calls, nothing. No surprise visits—

She turned away from the door, towards the driveway, then scowled as a familiar Jaguar turned from the street and blocked in her car. She gripped the keys firmly in her hand, watching Nikolas slide out.

Not today. She didn’t want this today—or any day.

Nikolas drew off his sunglasses. “Mother said you were staying here for a while. I hope it’s all right that I’ve showed up without calling.” His lips tightened. “You’ve been ignoring them anyway.”

“I told you two months ago we had nothing left to say to each other.” Elizabeth stepped down from the porch. “I have places to be—”

“You have to let me apologize—please—” Nikolas held out a hand, and she paused. “You were right. I was jealous. I had feelings for you,” he continued, and she wrinkled her nose. “Maybe it was because of the grief we shared, the way things were out of control in my own life—it doesn’t matter. I was jealous, and I was cruel. I’m sorry—”

“I can accept your apology,” Elizabeth said reluctantly, knowing it would simply be easier to let it go. For Laura, especially. “But it doesn’t change the fact I have no interest in rekindling our friendship—”

“I can’t make a mistake?” Nikolas demanded, the remorse vanishing from his tone in a snap. “I’m not perfect—”

“Neither am I, but I also didn’t say the things you did to me. I didn’t humiliate you in front of most of the town,” Elizabeth reminded him. “You may be sorry you said them, but you can’t erase what happened. I have to live with what you said to me. What you accused me of—”

“You told me yourself you were screwing—” Nikolas closed his mouth abruptly, and she nodded.

“This is what you do, Nikolas. You say what you’re really thinking in the moment, and then later you apologize because you don’t like the consequences that follow. You’re not sorry at all.”

“That’s not fair—”

“I didn’t immediately forgive you and you went right back to the anger.” She shook her head. “I deserve better.”

She went to the other side of the driveway to unlock her car. “Maybe the next time you’re angry, you’ll think before you speak. But it won’t be with me. I’m sorry, Nikolas. Accepting your apology doesn’t mean I have to forgive you.”

“You’re just bitter because Jason left town,” Nikolas shot back. He yanked his car door open. “He didn’t want you, either. You’re right. I was clearly grieving for my brother. Nothing more.”

The Jaguar’s brakes squealed as Nikolas pulled out of the driveway, then shot down the street. Elizabeth absorbed his final words, then exhaled slowly. She wanted to give Nikolas space for his grief, for his anger. Even for his jealousy. She’d miss the man she thought of as family, as a brother, as someone she could count on with Lucky gone. But that man had never existed.

Better to know now than spend years accepting the crumbs of friendship he’d offered, constantly forgiving him because he was good at apologies and nothing else.

Spencer House: Porch

Laura shaded her eyes, watching as the yellow school bus turned a corner and disappeared out of her neighborhood, carrying Lulu to school. When she turned away, she saw a Cadillac pulling up in front of the house.

“You missed Lu,” she said as Luke climbed out and his long legs ate up the distance between the sidewalk and their front steps. “The bus leaves at 8:20—”

“No, I knew that. I’ll catch her later this week to do something.” Her estranged husband slid his hands into his pockets, rocked back on his heels. “I got the notice from the court. The divorce hearing is coming up next week.”

“Yes.” Laura drew her cardigan around her more tightly. “You never filed any kind of response, so it’s moving forward—”

“I never got around to having a lawyer look at it. I don’t need to,” he added. “You said I’d get the club—” He glanced up, past her, at the two-story home she’d fallen in love with shortly after they’d returned to Port Charles. “And you should have this house. It was was a happy place for a long time, but you always loved it more.”

“Luke—”

“I just—I called the court this morning,” he cut in. “To file a response. Uncontested. We don’t need a hearing unless you want it.”

“Uncontested,” she repeated. “Luke, have a lawyer—”

“What are you going to do to me, Laura, that I haven’t done to you? To myself?” Luke shook his head. “I walked out on this marriage. I’m the one that gave up.” His mouth twisted. “Anyway. Just thought you should hear it from me.”

“Luke—” Laura searched for the words, but then nodded. “All right, thank you. I’ll call my lawyer. We’ll cancel the hearing. I’ll let you know when the final papers will be ready.”

“Appreciate it. Tell the gumdrop I love her and we’ll do something this weekend.”

The Cadillac pulled away from the curb a few minutes later, and Laura watched him go, a bit bewildered at the entire scene—and a bit sad that her marriage, a relationship that had been at the center of her life for so long could end so quietly.

Monday, April 3, 2000

General Hospital: Hallway

Bobbie hadn’t intended to flag down her ex-husband, but then Stefan strode from a conference room and passed by the nurse’s station where she was scribbling in some charts. and she saw him out of the corner of her eye. The urge appeared fully-formed in her head.

“Stefan—” Bobbie called, following him down the hallway towards the administrator’s office. He turned, his posture stiff and unyielding, his eyes like flint. “I was wondering if you had a moment to talk about Nikolas.”

A muscle in Stefan’s cheek twitched, but he nodded and gestured towards his office door. “A moment is about all I can spare.”

“It won’t take long.” Bobbie followed him inside. “He’s had a rough year,” she told him, “which I know I don’t have to tell you. It’s just—I’ve noticed him growing angrier,” she said. Stefan frowned. “A few months ago, after the Christmas party, when he and Jason had that terrible fight—I broke up another fight between them outside of Kelly’s—”

“Jason Morgan has been gone a number of months, Barbara—”

“Yes, but—it’s not about him. It’s what Nikolas said that night. What he’s said to Elizabeth. You must have noticed that they’re no longer friends.”

Stefan’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and he nodded. He went around his desk, setting down the slim leather portfolio he had carried to his meeting. “I did know that. I wasn’t entirely sure why, but if he was fighting with Jason again—”

“I wish I could say it was just jealousy, but it’s more than that. Stefan, Nikolas blames Jason for Lucky’s death. And he was angry at Elizabeth for betraying his brother with someone he views as the reason Lucky is dead.”

Stefan tipped his head. “It’s still possible—”

“It was an accident—” And Bobbie closed her eyes, fisting her hand against her heart as the grief swept over her. That beautiful, bright boy would never get any older. Just like her darling BJ. “It was an accident,” she repeated. “I wish we had something—someone—to blame. But it was a terrible accident. And I’m afraid if Nikolas can’t come to terms with that soon, then his anger will swallow him whole.”

Stefan exhaled slowly, sank into his seat, suddenly looking very lost. “I was pleased,” he began slowly, “when he began to connect with his brother. This terrible feud between our families has caused Laura so much pain, and it’s left a legacy of bitterness. I wanted more for Nikolas. For his brother—I know that you doubt that—”

“I don’t,” Bobbie assured him. “I didn’t want Nikolas and Lucky to continue the feud, to carry it into another generation. It broke my brother, and it’s left you with your own burdens to bear.”

“I was at a loss when Lucky died in that fire. Senseless,” Stefan muttered. “He was such a smart young man. The best of his mother.” He shook his head, then focused on Bobbie. “I don’t know how to reach Nikolas like this. After the loss of Lucky, after the tragedy of Katherine and that child who never existed—” His hand fisted as it rested on the desk at the memory of his own dead fiancée who had used Nikolas as revenge. “Your concern is well-placed, Barbara. There is a problem. I simply lack a solution to resolve it.”

Friday, March 31, 2000

Badlands, South Dakota

Jason had flown back to Texas, taken the bike out of storage, and headed north. He’d spent most of his time since leaving Port Charles in the southwest, and he wanted a change of scenery. He needed it. He’d found a motel near the driving loop in the Badlands of South Daokta and checked in.

He rummaged through his duffel bag, his fingers sliding over the stack of postcards. Jason pulled them out, stared at them, then at the trash can in the corner of the room.

He should throw them out. These were the discards he hadn’t sent her anyway — various messages were scribbled across almost all of them, words he hadn’t deemed good enough to send. What was he going to do? Keep them forever? Drag them around the country, from state to state?

Jason tossed them on the table in the room, then found the change of clothing he’d wanted in the first place. He took a shower, changed, then headed down to the lobby to ask about a diner or somewhere else he could get something to eat.

As he waited at the counter for the clerk, his eyes caught the rack of postcards with photographs from the driving loop he was going to take in the morning. The Conata Basin, the White River Valley—

“Only four for a dollar,” an older woman chirped as she emerged from the back office. “You want some?”

“I—”

It had become almost second nature to grab a few postcards wherever he stopped. He’d only sent three — he’d managed to be somewhat satisfied with those—but why keep buying them? Elizabeth didn’t want them. She’d ask him not to write.

But that wasn’t what she’d said, was it? Just like it hurt him to hear her voice, it had hurt her to see these cards. To hear from him without actually hearing from him. His fingers lingered, then he shook his head. “No.” He focused on the clerk. “No, I was just looking. Uh, is there a diner still open? Somewhere to eat?”

“Sure thing. If you go a few miles down the road, turn left—” The clerk gave him the rest of the directions, and Jason listened carefully, not wanting to get lost on the dark, unfamiliar roads. The landscape was so monotonous, and there was little scenery to break up the open spaces, just the empty roads and twists and turns.

He started for the entrance, had a hand on the door, then without thinking about it too much, returned to the desk. He dug into his back pocket for his wallet, then grabbed four cards at random.

Jason returned to his room after dinner, tossing the cards on the table, irritated with himself. He could send them to Emily, couldn’t he? Or Lila. Postcards could be for anyone. Or he could keep them for himself. He was getting better at looking at pictures, maybe from all the postcards he’d pored over for months—

But in the back of his mind somewhere, he knew the truth. He’d known it as he picked up one with Panorama Point scrawled across the front —

Saying goodbye hadn’t helped. Closing the door, walking away, promising not to write — it hadn’t solved anything. Jason still didn’t know what he was looking for, what answers or peace he hoped to find by staying away from Port Charles, but if there was some small glimmer of hope that those answers could lead him back to Elizabeth — or if she changed her mind and wanted to hear from him or join him on this trip —

He just wanted her to know that he’d never forgotten her. Even when she’d asked him to. So Jason picked up a pen with the motel’s name etched into it, and began the familiar process of trying to write her, even though there were no words for what he wanted to say and never would be.

Queen of Angels: Cemetery

The ground was still a bit chilly, but Elizabeth ignored it as she sat cross-legged in front of the dual headstone her grandparents now shared. For the last few years, only her grandfather’s name had been etched into the stone. Steven Hardy, 1917-1996. Beloved father and grandfather.

They’d removed the stone briefly to clean it up and etch in a new enscription. Audrey March Hardy. 1929-2000. Beloved mother and grandmother. Between them, Elizabeth had asked for a heart and a medical symbol to be added.

“You’re together again,” Elizabeth said, and smiled at the thought. “It helps when I get lonely. When I want to tell you both something—I remember that you’re together again just the way you should be.” She traced Audrey’s name. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the granddaughter you wanted, but I think I like who I’m growing up to be. I didn’t always, and maybe you didn’t either.”

She picked at the patchy grass beginning to sprout over their graves. “I never fit in anywhere. Especially not back in Colorado. I’m glad I came here. It hasn’t always been easy—it’s been really hard, actually—” Her voice faltered. “Terrible things have happened. And I’ve had to lose so much. You and Gramps. Lucky.” She bit her lip. “And I’ve turned away other chances. I still think I was right to stay. That I needed these last few months on my own. I’m making a living from my art, you know. I could make it on my own. I have been,” she corrected.

Elizabeth lifted her eyes to the sky, the clouds shifting and sliding, the sun peeking out. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it since I sent him away again,” she said. “He couldn’t say. And I couldn’t go. I know that’s true. But I wasn’t as sure this time. If he’d stayed a few more days, would I have changed my mind? Maybe he would have changed his. Maybe we’re both too scared to take the chance.”

She bit her lip. “I asked him not to write again. Now I wish I hadn’t. I know why I did it, and it felt right at th time. But now…” She stared at her hands. “I don’t even have the hope of him. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until it was gone.” An errant tear slid down her cheek and she swiped at it. “I thought I needed to be in Port Charles because home should be a place. A space where you belong and feel safe. But then isn’t that another way to be afraid? You stay in one spot forever because you don’t want to lose what you have—and you throw away everything that might still be.”

She touched the stone again, then got to her feet. “I don’t want to be scared,” Elizabeth confessed. “I don’t want to run away from something that I really want because I’m terrified of how it could break me into pieces. It hurt so much after the rape to piece myself back together—to do it again after I lost Lucky. I don’t want to shatter again. But if I don’t take a chance…what kind of life would that be?”

And how’s it going to be
When you don’t know me anymore
And how’s it going to be
Want to get myself back in again
The soft dive of oblivion
I want to taste the salt of your skin
The soft dive of oblivion, oblivion
– How’s It Going To Be, Third Eye Blind

---

Friday, January 14, 2000

Kelly’s: Parking Lot

Jason swung his leg over the bike, and started for the courtyard, his steps slowing when he saw Nikolas Cassadine scowling by the entrance to the diner.

He’d wanted to see Elizabeth, maybe to take her on a ride and tell her what he was thinking.  Everything seemed easier, clearer when she was there. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to walk away, but Jason couldn’t think of any other way to create peace for himself.

Maybe he could go back to drinking in the bars and looking for a fight. His fists clenched at his side as he remembered the studio and the Christmas party, the way Nikolas had spoken to and about Elizabeth—

Maybe the Cassadine prince would give him a reason to beat him senseless.

Nikolas scowled when Jason entered the courtyard. “Oh, you’re just what the day needs,” he growled. “If you’re here for Elizabeth, don’t bother.”

Jason frowned, looked past him into the diner. He saw Penny and another waitress whose name he’d never learned moving through the tables, dealing with the lunch rush. Elizabeth was supposed to work — she always worked on Fridays —

“I told you—”

Jason looked back at the angry prince, irritated and impatient, but not really in the mood. If he just said one thing— But he was still Emily’s friend—and maybe he and Elizabeth had mended things, so he wouldn’t take the kid apart. Not until he had a reason—

He brushed past Nikolas, intent on returning to the parking lot. He’d look for Elizabeth in her studio, but the younger man grabbed Jason’s arm and shoved him. “Keep your hands off me,” Jason warned. “Last warning—”

“What are you going to do, huh?” Nikolas stepped up to him. “What else can you take from me?”

“I didn’t take anything—” Jason shoved him back. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is—”

“You’re not nearly as stupid as everyone says you are—” Nikolas’s face was flushed. “I don’t care what anyone says—that fire was set by your enemies! Lucky wasn’t enough? You need to get Elizabeth killed, too?”

Jason shook his head, angry at himself now for giving in and even having the conversation. “I’m not doing this with you—” He turned again, and then went flying as Nikolas charged him from behind. Jason hit the ground, his knees slamming into the concrete. He flipped himself over, his legs kicking Nikolas across the courtyard. The other man flew against the diner’s entrance, hitting the window hard enough that Jason heard the thud of his skull.

“What the—” Bobbie stormed out of the diner, white puffs of air escaping her mouth. “What you still doing here?” she asked Nikolas. “I told you to get out—” And she looked at Jason, her expression softening a little, but still irritated. “And you should know better—”

“I didn’t—” Jason closed his mouth, cutting off the protest. It didn’t matter. He’d wanted to feel something other than the despair choking at him, so he’d let the prince goad him into a fight, and now felt the shame of it. He got to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. He sent Nikolas another hard glare, then left the courtyard.

Spencer House: Living Room

Laura opened the door and her face lit up. “What a lovely surprise!” She ushered Elizabeth inside. “Come in, come in.” She took the coat Elizabeth shed and hung it up.

“I’m sorry to just…” Elizabeth bit her lip as Laura closed the door. “To drop in like this,” she continued. “Um, if you’re busy—”

“No, no. Just going over a few things for the hospital.” Laura gestured towards the sofa and the fireplace. Elizabeth avoided looking at the mantel, at the photographs of Lucky.

You claimed to love my brother, but I know you couldn’t let him touch you—but then Jason comes along—

It wasn’t true, not the way Nikolas had said it, but wasn’t there a kernel of something in that statement? She perched on the edge of the sofa. “I’m not even really sure why I’m here,” she admitted. Did she want Laura’s blessing or approval?

Laura sat next to her, tipped her head. “You look upset,” she realized. “What happened?”

Too much. Elizabeth tucked her hair behind her ears. “Earlier this week, um, we talked about Lucky. And Jason. I let you think what I know a lot of people think—that Jason and I are—that we’re together.” Just say it. “That we’re sleeping together.”

“Let me think,” Laura repeated. “Which means you’re not? You don’t owe me any explanations, sweetheart—”

“I know. I know that. It’s just—” Elizabeth rubbed her hands against the denim of her jeans. “I guess part of me is trying to understand. Because I’m not—but I—” Her cheeks were flaming and she looked away, focusing on the fire crackling a few feet away. “I want to,” she said finally. “And if there’s a chance, I’m going to. And I guess I’m trying to understand why it’s okay with Jason, but—Lucky—I couldn’t—” A tear slid down her cheek. “I loved him. And I regret all the things we didn’t get a chance to do—”

“Lucky died eight months ago,” Laura told her. She reached for Elizabeth’s hand. “Look at me, honey. Please.” Elizabeth did, relieved to see nothing but love and warmth in her eyes. “Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago. And then others, it’s yesterday. But it was eight months ago. You didn’t die with him. You said that to me, remember?”

“But—”

“You were so young, baby. That night, in the park—” Laura squeezed her hand. “You’d never been with anyone, had you?”

“No. That was my first—”

“It wasn’t. You haven’t had that yet,” Laura interrupted. “I know that you’ve heard that before. I’m sure Bobbie and Gail—they’ve both told you that.”

“They did.”

“You needed time for your heart and your body to heal. For your mind.” Laura touched her face. “You know that, don’t you? You’re not the girl you were that night two years ago. And you’re not the young woman who lost Lucky last year. You’re you.”

“I don’t really know who that is yet,” Elizabeth confessed.

“You’re never going to know yourself all the way because you’ll keep changing. You never quite finish growing up.” Laura’s hand fell away. “Tell me about Jason.”

“What do you want to know? I mean—”

“You’re here because you’re on the edge of moving on. Really moving on. And Jason is important enough that he’s the person you’ve chosen to trust. But you’re not happy. I just—What can I do? How can I help?”

“Jason…” Elizabeth considered the question. Considered how to answer. How to describe the last five months. “I wanted to make the emptiness, the nothing go away. I didn’t even know what I was looking for, not really, until he showed me. He made me feel safe again. Not just physically, but—” She pressed her hand against her heart. “I was drowning, in grief. In regrets. In this fog. I couldn’t see tomorrow because all I wanted to do was go back. And he listened to me. I didn’t have to be okay with him. And then I was. I don’t know when it changed, but it did. And now all I want to do is—” She exhaled slowly. “I want him to be safe, too,” she murmured.

“And he’s not?” Laura asked gently.

“No. He’s the one who’s drowning now. And I want to help. I want him to be okay.” Elizabeth looked at Laura. “I have to give him what he needs. It’s more important than what I want. He deserves that.”

“What does he need?”

Her conversation with Bobbie echoed in her head. “Time. And distance.” Real distance. Not just a matter of streets and miles, but states and counties. Worlds.

There was really only one thing left for her to do.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Nikolas heard the roar of the motorcycle as Jason drove away, and reluctantly turned back to face Bobbie. “I only came back to see if Elizabeth did—”

“I have never been so disappointed in you as I am right now,” Bobbie said, and he closed his mouth. “You had no right to say those things to Elizabeth this afternoon, and no right to pick a fight with Jason.” She folded her arms, shivering without a jacket. “You are angry at the world, Nikolas, and I understand that. Be angry at the world for taking Lucky from us the way it did. For unleashing Katherine on you—she lied and deceived you—and it was a tragedy—but you’re not taking it out on the world. You’ve focused all that anger on Elizabeth—”

“She’s forgetting Lucky—she has no right—”

“She has every right to move on with her life,” Bobbie cut in. “And you don’t get to decide when or with whom she gets to do that. She saw you as a friend, Nikolas. I’m sorry that wasn’t enough for you, but she did not owe you more than that.” Her expression eased for just a moment. “She’s a way for you to hold on to Lucky. As long as Elizabeth was grieving, it kept a little bit of Lucky alive.”

“That’s not—”

“But she has a right to happiness, Nikolas. And if you can’t accept that, if you truly can’t be happy for her, then you need to walk away and leave her alone. She did not die in that fire. If you come near her again, if you pick another fight the way you did today, if you ever speak to her or about her that way again, I will never forgive you. And I will make sure she doesn’t either.”

“She’s moving on with a man who got Lucky killed,” Nikolas said tightly. “How can any of you support that? I nearly died because of him, and my brother burned to death. And it’s okay that he’s going to get Elizabeth killed? Damn it, Bobbie, she was nearly blown up because of him!”

“If you can’t find a way to let go of this anger,” Bobbie pulled the door open, and looked at him. “You’re going to end up alone. And you’ll deserve it.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Roo

The moment Jason had told Lila he was thinking of leaving, something in him had settled. Saying the words out to her had been a test. If he’d said the, and it felt wrong—if she’d looked at him and found a way to talk him out of it, he’d have listened. But it had felt so damn good just to say the words. And the run-in with Nikolas had just cemented the thought in his mind. There was no where he could go where the past didn’t choke him.

He’d been slowly choked by this town since the moment he’d woken up in the hospital without memories, and no matter what he did, that wasn’t going to change. He’d made it work this long because of people. Because of Robin, then Sonny, then Michael—but for the last year, it had felt like the darkness was pulling at him, reminding him that he didn’t really have anything that was his—

And then that night in December, when the person he’d thought understood him best—when the man who’d called him best friend and brother—

Jason nodded at Max who knocked lightly on the door and pushed it open, as if Jason hadn’t pushed past the guard the day before and burst in like a crazy man. “Hey, Jase,” he said easily. “Boss is inside.”

“Yeah.” Jason braced himself and then went in. He wasn’t planning to stay long, but he owed Sonny at least this.

Sonny rose from the chair by the fireplace, his usual glass of bourbon in his hand. “You come to shove me around again?” he said sourly. He turned to look at the fire, the crackling of the flames echoing in the quiet room.

“No, I came to tell you I’m leaving.”

Sonny froze, then slowly turned to face him again. “What?”

“Tonight. Or tomorrow,” he added. Because he needed to tell Elizabeth, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to make that happen. What if she looked at him like yesterday or— “This isn’t working.”

“No, I guess it’s not, but—”

“I can’t stand the sight of you,” Jason continued bluntly, “and I don’t trust you. That’s not something that’s going away. I thought it would but—” He cleared his throat. “It’s not.”

Sonny exhaled slowly, then nodded. “All right. I didn’t—” He set the bourbon on the table, scrubbed a hand down his face. “Will you let me say one thing? Then I’ll never talk about it again.”

Since this was the last time Jason planned to be in the same room with Sonny, he figured it wouldn’t make things worse. “Fine.”

“I never planned it. It wasn’t cold or calculating.” He hesitated. “She came over, and she was upset. She asked about Elizabeth. She’d seen you dancing, and I wanted to needle her. I wanted to hurt her, Jason. For all the ways she’d hurt you.”

“It wasn’t your business—and this doesn’t change anything—”

“No, I know that. I know.” Sonny swallowed. “I thought—let me just see what she’d do. I didn’t think past the minute. And I sure as hell didn’t want you to know—”

“Fine.” Jason shrugged a shoulder. “Anything else?”

“About yesterday—”

“There’s nothing to say about yesterday. You don’t get an apology from me. I gave it to Elizabeth, and—” She’d accepted it, hadn’t she? That made him pause. Or had she remembered about Michael and let it go? “It was just the last straw.”

“Okay—” Sonny paused. “But Sorel’s still out there,” he said. Jason scowled. “I’m not saying that to guilt you. We’ll leave a guard on Elizabeth, and with you out of the picture, he’ll probably let it go. But can I have a way to contact you in case—”

“I’ll call you,” Jason said shortly, because that was it. The only reason he’d ever want to talk to Sonny again. To be sure Elizabeth was safe. This would do it. Sorel wouldn’t need to use Elizabeth if Jason wasn’t part of it anymore. Still— “I’ll call,” Jason repeated. “Until we’re sure. You’ll—” He swallowed hard. He didn’t want to ask for anything, but— “You’ll look out for her? If she needs something?”

“Of course. Jason—”

There was a gentle knock on the door and Max leaned in. “Sorry, Mr. C.” He flicked his eyes to Jason. “Wally called up from the front desk. Miss Webber wanted to know if you were here. She, ah, said she didn’t want to come up if you weren’t. So, uh, are you here?”

Jason flinched at this reminder of what had happened the day before, but he needed to talk to her, and maybe it would be easier if he told her here. In his barren apartment where she’d never been and there were no memories of how things had been different—

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.”  Max closed the door, and Jason turned back to Sonny. “So that’s it—”

“Yesterday,” Sonny said, and Jason grimaced, “I was talking to her. I was trying to find out if you were okay. And maybe I was trying to encourage her not to give up on you—”

“Damn it—”

“I just wanted you to know—”

“It wasn’t your—I’m not doing this anymore. It doesn’t matter.” Jason pulled open the door and walked out.

Harborview Towers: Hallway

Even as the elevator climbed towards the fifteenth floor, Elizabeth was nervous. What if Max had been talking to Sonny? What if Jason wasn’t here? Well, she certainly wasn’t going into the penthouse. She’d just turn around and go right back downstairs—

But then the doors opened, and Jason was there, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. She frowned, held the doors back. “I’m sorry—were you on your way out? This can—it’s not important—”

“No.” Jason tipped his head towards his side of the penthouse floor. “No, I was just across the hall. I haven’t been home yet.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth stepped off the elevator, flicking a worried glance towards Sonny’s. He’d been across the hall. Were things better? Worse? She couldn’t tell. Jason had that inscrutable look again, and she didn’t know how to get through that yet.

And maybe she never would.

“Do you have a few minutes?” Elizabeth asked. “I had something I wanted to say, but it can wait—”

“No, I was going to come looking for you.” Jason pulled out a key and slid it into the lock. Inside, the room was a large open space — similar to the size of Sonny’s, but it was empty. No carpets, bright colors on the wall, and a singular leather sofa in the middle of the room. To the right of the door, there was a wooden executive desk that looked as if it had seen better days.

There weren’t even any curtains or shades over the glass windows. Despite the darkness outside, she could still see the snowflakes gently falling outside.

This room was so empty. She hadn’t expected much since Jason was a simple guy, but there wasn’t anything here that said this was home, and there was something tragic about it.

But at the same time, it crystallized the decision for her. She waited for him to close the door. “Um, hey.”

“Hey.” He dropped his keys on the desk, then cleared his throat. “I was going to tell you—I mean the reason I was going to see you—was that I’m—I’m leaving.”

It slammed into her like a freight train, even though she’d come here to suggest the very same plan to him. It was one thing when she thought it was her idea, but to know he’d come to the same conclusion on his own—

This was going to happen. It wasn’t just an idea. It would a reality.

“I just—I can’t keep doing this. Not you, this has nothing to do with you,” Jason continued, with a wince. “It’s—”

“I know,” Elizabeth said, stepping closer to him. She took his hand, and he closed his mouth. “I was actually coming here to tell you that I think you need to go.”

His mouth opened slightly. “What?”

“Not because I want you to,” she said, and her voice faltered just for a moment. She swallowed hard. “I don’t, and this is going to suck without you. I’m going to miss you every day for a long time, and I wish it was different. I really do.”

“Elizabeth—”

“But you were so upset yesterday, and I’ve been blind to all the ways you’ve been like this for weeks—it’s not getting better, is it? It’s only getting worse, and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand to see you so unhappy.”

Jason brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “So you came here to tell me to leave,” he murmured. “Because you think it’s what I need.”

“I don’t know.” A tear slid down her cheek and he caught it with his thumb. “Maybe it’s selfish of me to hope you’ll go and miss me too much to stay away, but I just know that as much I want you to be with me, you’re right. It’s not about me. You need someone to put you first.”

He leaned down, brushed his mouth against hers. The sweetness of it nearly broke her, but it also strengthened her resolve. He’d looked so surprised, so stunned, when she’d agreed. And maybe there’d been a flash of hurt. It was so hard to open up, to admit how much she didn’t want him to go, but he needed to understand that she didn’t want it. It was the last thing she wanted.

“You’ve always put me first,” he murmured. He stroked her cheek, the rough skin of his hand sending shivers flooding through her. “You know that, don’t you? Even before you dragged me out of the snow.” He was still so close to her, their breaths mingling, drawing in the same air. “If I could stay, it would be for you.” Their eyes met and held. “I could try. A little longer. Maybe—” Then he broke off. “I want to. Don’t think I don’t. But I hurt you. Yesterday. Last week—”

“You didn’t. You couldn’t. I hurt without you. And this is going to kill me,” she breathed. “You need to know that. But that doesn’t change anything. It needs to be like this, Jason. You need to be okay. I need that for both of us. If you stay, even for a little while, even to give us time, this will happen again. You know it. She’ll never stop.”

“No, she won’t. And it’s not just her—”

“I know. She’ll keep using that beautiful little boy that you love more than anything in this world.” The tears were falling now, but she smiled. “You need to go to protect him. Just like last year. You walked away to give him his best chance at a family. If you stay—”

“I can’t let it happen again. Yesterday—I can’t be the reason he cries again. Nothing is going to change unless I go.”

“I know.” She stepped even closer, their bodies brushing. “But I need to ask you for something first. You can say no.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I need just one night.” She swallowed hard when his eyes flew back to hers. “Just one. We both deserve it. We can’t have tomorrows. So give me tonight.”

Nothing’s so loud
As hearing when we lie
The truth is not kind
And you’ve said neither am I
But the air outside so soft is saying everything
Everything
– All I Want, Toad the Wet Sprocket

---

Monday, January 17, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Alexis Davis wrinkled her nose and scratched a note in the margin of the contract for a piece of waterfront property. “What makes you think you can sell coffee better than Kelly’s?”

“It’s just a matter of time before Starbucks gets here,” Sonny offered with that easy smile and those double dimples. “They’re already in New York, closer to the city.”

She didn’t trust anyone with dimples. It seemed irresponsible.

“When they open up, I want competition already in place—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get why someone would want to open a coffee place in Port Charles,” Alexis said with a wave of her hand. “But you import coffee and run nightclubs.” And controlled all the illegal gambling and smuggling in upstate New York, but she left that unsaid.

“I need something new,” Sonny said, after a long moment. “A challenge. Something to keep me busy and distract myself. My personal life—” He pressed his lips together, looked away. “Well, it’s a cesspool.”

Alexis nodded. “Jason called a few days ago,” she confessed. “To update his will and tell me he’d be out of town. Indefinitely. I’m sure that must be difficult.”

“It’s my fault.” Sonny rose to his feet and crossed to the small table where a carafe of coffee sat on a hot plate. He refilled his cup, then hers, before returning to his seat. “He asked me to look after Elizabeth Webber.”

He had asked her to do the same, Alexis mused as she stirred sugar into her cup. He had left a substantial amount of his estate to Elizabeth, in fact. She wondered at that, though she was familiar with the rumors that had swirled at Christmas time. Nikolas had been livid over it, and she knew that his friendship with Elizabeth had been damaged, perhaps beyond repair.

“I wondered at his decision to leave now. I would have thought he’d go last year after losing Michael.”

“I’m glad he didn’t,” Sonny said, evading the question. “He met Elizabeth. If he ever comes back, it’ll be for her.” He hesitated. “The penthouse is empty across the hall now. I know you’ve been looking for a new place since you annulled your marriage to Jax.”

“I have,” Alexis said, slowly. She tilted her head. “You expecting to need a lawyer across the hall that often?”

“It’s convenient to have my lawyer close at hand when the PCPD raids my properties in the middle of the night.” Sonny offered her another charming smile. “And Justus seemed to like it.”

“He liked it enough to flee with little notice,” Alexis pointed out with another smile of her own. “But, hey, why not. I need a—”

“Get your hands off me!”

The shrill shriek boomed through the closed door as if the woman who screamed the words was in the room. Sonny closed his eyes, and Alexis grimaced.

They both knew that voice.

“I suppose someone else just learned that Jason is gone,” Alexis said dryly as the door flew open and Carly stomped on the foot of the guard attempting to hold her back.

“Where is Jason?” she demanded, her face flushed, her blonde hair disheveled. “His phone number isn’t working —”

“He’s gone,” Sonny said. He looked at the other woman, his dark eyes swirling with malevolence. “Take a hint.”

“Screw you!” Carly hissed, jabbing a finger at him.

“Already did that.”

Alexis merely raised her brows at that statement, but it only incensed Carly further. She slapped at the hands of the guard trying to pull her from the room. “Jason always comes back to me—”

Alexis leaned back in her chair. “He turned off his phone, Carly. He moved out of his penthouse. He’s gone.”

“What—” Carly bared her teeth in her direction. “What the hell do you have to do with anything?”

“Jason didn’t leave a forwarding address or a phone number for anyone to reach him,” Sonny told her. He stood up. “It’s over, Carly. You gambled and lost. He’s not going to be here to clean up your messes. You destroyed him and chased him from town. You made it clear that you would never leave him alone, so he took himself out of the equation.”

“Bullshit. There’s no way he left without leaving someone a way to get a hold of him. What about Michael?” Carly demanded. “He would never leave his son—”

“Michael is not Jason’s son,” Alexis said, quietly. “You made your choice, Carly, when you married his brother.”

“And when you slept with me,” Sonny offered with a half smirk. “I did Jason a favor.”

“He wouldn’t—” Carly swallowed hard. She took a step back. “He wouldn’t leave me. There’s nothing I could do to make him—he’s never—”

“Is it so hard to believe after everything we’ve done to Jason that he got fed up and left?” Sonny asked her, more gently his time. “He canceled his phone contract. His own sister can’t call him. Jason’s done here. And you and I did that.”

“You really—” Her shoulders slumped. “You really don’t know where he is?”

“No. He said he might call in to check every once in a while, but that’s it. He’s gone, Carly. You’re going to have to learn to survive without him.” Sonny exhaled slowly. “We both are.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth emerged from the kitchen, a lunch order in each hand, then paused when she spied Sonny sitting at the counter, leaning back slightly, a coffee cup right side up, waiting to be filled.

She exhaled slowly, then delivered her orders. She did a check on with her other tables, and when she couldn’t find another reason to avoid it, she returned to the counter.

“What can I get you?” she asked, removing her order pad from her apron.

“Just a cup of coffee. I’m not staying long,” Sonny continued. “I just came to check in and to give you a warning.”

Elizabeth squinted, her hand shaking slightly as she poured coffee into his cup. “A warning?” Was it Sorel?

“Carly,” Sonny continued, “finally realized Jason’s phone doesn’t work anymore.” He was quiet for a long moment. “I didn’t think he’d really cancel it, but I made some calls. It’s a dead number.”

She knew that. She’d broken the night before and attempted to make contact—only for a recording to tell her it was no longer in service. “And she came to yell at you?” Elizabeth met his eyes coolly.

His mouth tightened. “You know, don’t you?”

“It was pretty clear after the last time I saw you.” Elizabeth returned the carafe to the machine. “I guess she’ll eventually come around to yell at me.”

“Maybe. She might also use it to poke at you.”

Elizabeth’s smile was thin. “That would be a mistake.”

“I know.” Sonny lifted the coffee. “I’m sorry. That whatever I did that last day—he was managing until then—”

“It didn’t help that Carly’s been showing Michael pictures of Jason, so Michael still thinks—” Maybe Elizabeth shouldn’t be sharing that information, but it was out before she could think twice.

“Christ.” Sonny set the coffee down with a clatter of porcelain against the saucer. “What happened?”

“She tried to guilt him into forgiving her by shoving Michael at him. Calling him Daddy.” Elizabeth’s throat was tight. “He knew she’d never stop. And Michael will get hurt. So, yeah, Sonny, you were part of it. But you weren’t the trigger.”

Sonny scrubbed his hands over his face. “Oh, man. That must have killed him.” He let his hand fall down to the counter and met her eyes. “I’m still surprised,” he continued, “because I didn’t think he’d leave you.”

“He might not have,” Elizabeth forced out. “I told him to go. This place, all of that tension with Carly and Michael, with you—it was killing him.” She swiped at a stray tear, irritated with herself. She wanted to be done with the crying. “So he went.”

“Ah.” Sonny pressed lips together into a thin line, his brows furrowed. “You’re stronger than you look,” he said finally. “I got the feeling that things were changing for you two. To give that up—”

“When you love someone,” Elizabeth said, acknowledging the truth that she’d not spoken to Jason, “when it’s real, you don’t hurt them just to get what you need. I’d be no different from Carly if I tried to use how we felt to keep him here. He wasn’t happy, Sonny.”

“He was with you—”

“And by the time he left, that was barely true. I hope he finds what he’s looking for.” She picked up her order pad. “I have other customers.”

Brownstone: Foyer

Bobbie nearly didn’t open the door to her daughter, but she relented when she saw the tears staining Carly’s cheeks. She pulled the door open. ‘Carly—”

“I know—” Carly sucked in a sob. “I know you’re mad at me, but I just—” Her lip trembled. “I needed to talk to someone who knew. I c-can’t go home like this—” She swiped at her face, and Bobbie stepped back. Carly came in, but stood in the middle of the entry way, a bit lost. “He’s gone.”

“I know.” Bobbie closed the door, then turned to her. “It had to be this way, Carly. If he stayed in Port Charles, you were never going to let go.”

“I loved—” Carly pressed her hands to her face. “I know you don’t believe me. But I loved him. I did. I just—” She didn’t finish.

Bobbie took Carly by the arm and steered her into the living room. “I was like you once,” she told her daughter. “I thought about myself. What I wanted. What I needed. I pushed to make it happen. And I didn’t always—” Her lips twisted. “I never really cared about what anyone else wanted.”

“I guess it’s genetic,” Carly said glumly. She plopped down on the sofa, stared at the carpet. “I loved him. I still do. I just…I don’t know. I can’t stop hurting him. I didn’t think—” She chewed on her lip. “I really thought,” she continued, her voice small, “that I was doing the right thing. That Jason and I would be a family again, and Michael needed to know how much Jason loved him. That he didn’t lose that connection. I didn’t do it to hurt him. Or hurt Michael—”

“You have to let go of that dream, Carly,” Bobbie said, gently. She sat next to her, waiting for Carly’s dark eyes to focus on her. “Jason cared about you. Maybe he even loved you. But you did something to make him angry. To hurt him so deeply that he walked away. I have my thoughts about what it is—”

“Sonny. I—” Carly closed her eyes, tears clinging to her lashes. “I was so angry. Everything was taking longer than I thought it would. I thought I could get rid of AJ in a few months, but it just kept going and Jason…I could feel him slipping away…It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.”

“He had a right to move on, Carly. To not be alone. You went home every night to your husband and son.”

“I saw him with that stupid girl. That silly little nothing—” Carly’s mouth tightened, and her eyes flashed. “He’s got a weakness for girls like that. Robin. I got rid of her. I waited that out, and I won—”

Bobbie sighed heavily. “Carly—”

“But this—this was different. He was dancing with her. And I just—I went to Sonny to find out what was going on. And he told me it was real. That Jason deserved someone nice. Someone who wasn’t me—and I was so mad—” She closed her eyes. “Because I knew it was true. You know? I’m not stupid. Jason deserves better. But I don’t care. I wanted him anyway. But I was mad at Sonny for seeing it, and scared that Jason did, too, and I just wanted to—” She looked out the window. “Jason came in. Saw us. He must have been shot already. He just left, and it all fell apart. I kept trying to fix it, but I just made him angrier, and I thought if I showed him that Michael still loved him, still needed him, he’d come around—”

“He’s gone, Carly,” Bobbie told her when Carly stopped talking.

“He canceled his phone number. Almost since the day I got to Port Charles, I’ve been able to count on Jason.” Carly looked at her mother. “You knew he was already gone. Elizabeth told you, didn’t she? Or maybe Jason.”

“Elizabeth told me,” Bobbie confirmed. “Yesterday when she came to work.”

“Ironic, huh?” Carly snorted, then got to her feet, swiping away the remaining tears. “I destroyed the last piece of love Jason had for me over a girl that didn’t even matter. Because he left her, too.”

Bobbie left that statement unchallenged. Better for Carly to think Elizabeth was someone else Jason had left. Maybe then Carly might leave her alone. “You have a husband and a son, Carly. Figure out how to make it work. It’s time to grow up.”

“You said that a few days ago,” Carly said. “But you’re right. Jason’s gone. I’m going to have to take care of myself.”

Monday, February 7, 2000

Phoenix, Arizona

Jason stopped at the edge of the hiking trail, just a few yards from the cliff face where Camelback Mountain overlooked a piece of the city. The air was thinner and cooler than it had been on the ground. He didn’t feel temperature that well, but he knew how to recognize his body’s responses.

It had been strange to get to the southern part of the country and away from the winters of New York. People weren’t all bundled up and he hadn’t seen any snow since leaving—

Abruptly, the memory of sitting in the studio in December, Elizabeth checking his temperature by resting her cheek against his forehead—and the sweet, fresh smell of snow radiating from her—

Jason shook his head, shoving the memory away. Two weeks since he’d left and the flashes should be fading. He shouldn’t even be having them — he’d never really thought in visuals or pictures, not since the accident. It wasn’t fair that his brain would finally recover that ability and use it against him this way—

He had a stack of postcards — he’d only sent the one in Miami — but he’d kept buying them, thinking he’d find a way to write something simple. He hadn’t liked just scrawling his name and sending it. But he hadn’t been happy with anything else. Now he just had a growing collection of postcards, none of which he could ever show anyone.

He should stop. If he didn’t buy them anymore, then maybe it would help to stop thinking about her.

Even now, hiking a trail more than two thousand miles away from Port Charles, the studio, and Elizabeth, Jason found himself wondering how she’d paint this landscape. What colors she’d use and what she would hum while she did it—

He scowled at himself, then continued up the mountain, determined this would be the last time he’d think about Elizabeth.

Luke’s: Office

Luke’s legs dropped from the desk when Laura peeked around the edge of his door. He hastily shoved his cigar into the ashtray and got to his feet. “Hey. Is everything okay? Lu—”

“In school. Everything’s fine. I would have called, but—I know you’re usually here this time of day.” She bit her lip, then set her purse on Luke’s desk. “I didn’t ask—you’re using the rooms upstairs?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. For now. I don’t need much. Never did. But I’d like to see about getting a place with a room for Lu. I mean—” He cleared his throat.”Did you—you came by for a reason, I guess.”

“I did.” Laura hesitated, then reached inside her bag for the manila envelope. “This last year—these last four years, really,” she corrected, “have me thinking about what I want the rest of my life to look like. And I was recently reminded that life goes on. Even when I didn’t always want it to.” She set the envelope down. “We’ve been separated for over a year, Luke. It’s time to make some decisions.”

He stared at the envelope, then exhaled slowly. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised,” he said finally. “I’m the one who left.” He reached for them. “Divorce papers.”

“I had them drawn up a while ago. When you were out of town and you missed Lulu’s birthday.”  He’d missed Lucky’s birthday as well — both their kids had been born in the summer— but she could forgive that. Bu Lulu was still with them and deserved so much more from them.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know I messed that up pretty good.”

“I didn’t file,” Laura continued. “Not then. But I did today.” He met her eyes. “I just came from the courthouse. It’s pretty straightforward. You get the club, and I get the house. I’ll take custody of Lulu and you can have visitation. As often as you’d like. Or if you want something more official, we can do that.”

Luke stared at the envelope. “Seems fair,” he said dully.

“All right. Well, you can have a lawyer look it over. File a response. Or—whatever you want.” She picked her purse up, wondering why she felt like the bad guy. He’d left her. Was she supposed to twist in the wind until he made the decisions?

That was what she’d always done. She couldn’t keep doing that. Elizabeth’s visit a few days ago had reminded Laura that she hadn’t died in that fire either, and just like Elizabeth, Laura had a right to the rest of her life.

Starting with closing this chapter.

Studio: Hallway

Elizabeth rifled through the stack of mail she’d grabbed from downstairs, grimacing at the junk mail and advertisements. She didn’t see the person standing in front of her door until she nearly ran into her.

“Oh. Gram—” Elizabeth cleared her throat, pressing her mail against her chest. “How long have you been waiting?” she asked cautiously. She hadn’t seen her grandmother since the Christmas Party, and had avoided her phone calls.

“Just a few minutes. I called Kelly’s and Tammy told me what time your shift was finishing.” Audrey Hardy checked her watch. “I only have a few minutes before I have to be at the hospital, but I was hoping we could make some plans to get together.”

Elizabeth dumped her mail into the bag over her shoulder and took out her keys. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here for that.”

Audrey sighed. “I think we both know I did. You haven’t returned my phone calls.”

“No, I haven’t,” Elizabeth admitted. “Not since the party.” Or after the message Audrey had left after her tuition money for PCU had been returned when Elizabeth had dropped out. “We haven’t really been seeing eye to eye.”

“And that’s partially my fault.”

“Partially,” Elizabeth repeated. She shook her head. “Gram—”

“I was surprised,” Audrey cut in, impatiently. “I didn’t even realize you knew Jason Morgan, and he’s in this studio, half-dressed, alone—what was I supposed to do? And before you talk about being an adult—” she held up a finger, and Elizabeth closed her mouth. “You’d turned eighteen six weeks earlier. You don’t cross some magic line simply because the law says so, and I’ve been raising you as my own child for years. Longer if we count the summers you and your siblings came to visit.” She sighed, then rubbed her forehead. “I know you and Steve always got along better, and I’ve never known quite how to handle you, but I’ve tried, Elizabeth. You must believe that.”

“I do,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “And it’s more than my parents have done.” She hesitated. “All right, when you put it that way, I can understand why you were so upset. It’s just—” She met her grandmother’s worried eyes. “Maybe I didn’t cross that magic line on November 1, Gram, but I think we both know I haven’t really been a kid in a long time either.”

“No.” Audrey closed her eyes, her voice wavering as she continued. “Not since that terrible night. I know, darling.” She opened her eyes. “And I was upset when you dropped out of PCU, but I realize that I can’t push you into living the dreams I have for you. You’re clearly capable of supporting yourself, and I can understand not wanting to waste the money when you’re not sure what you want.”

“It’s just—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I do know what I want. I just don’t know how to get there. I know PCU isn’t the right place. I want my art. And between classes and work, there wasn’t space for it.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Maybe I can’t make it work, and I’ll need another plan. But right now, it’s what I want to focus on.”

“All right, I can support that. I love you, my darling,” Audrey said, “and I want the best for you. I know that Jason has left town—” When she saw Elizabeth’s face, she added, “That’s not why I’m here. Not that way. I worried for you. Losing Lucky, then having someone else you care for leave.”

“I’m all right. Jason and I talked, and it was for the best. I miss him, but he had to do what was right for him. He asked me to go with him,” Elizabeth added, and Audrey’s eyes widened. “But I said no. It wasn’t right for me. Not now, anyway. I need to be on my own for a while. Not like I was last year. I just…” She frowned, trying to find the words. “I was in a fog for so long. Putting one foot in front of the other, stuck in the past. I was the girl who was raped, I was the girl who lost Lucky. I want time to find out who I’m going to be when it’s only me.”

Audrey stepped forward and they embraced, Elizabeth clinging tightly. “I look forward to watching you shine and become who I’ve always known you to be.” Audrey pulled back, framing Elizabeth’s face with her hands. “A wonderful young woman with a big heart, a smart mouth, and a bright future ahead of her.” She made a face. “I really do have to go.”

“I’ll call you about lunch,” Elizabeth promised, hugging her grandmother one more time. She watched Audrey disappear down the hall, then went inside the studio.

She dumped out her mail, chucking the junk—she nearly missed the small square postcard, tucked between the papers of the circular from the local grocery store.

But she recognized the handwriting  and plucked it from the pile, letting everything else fall to the floor. There was nothing more than her address written on one half, and his name scrawled on the other. Elizabeth traced the letters of his name—Jason. Then looked at the other side.

Welcome to Miami, Florida was emblazoned in bright lime green across a piece of folk art. He’d picked a postcard with a painting on it, she thought, wondering if that meant anything.  Why had he sent it at all? There was no message. Nothing else she could cling to—

Except it had been dated January 14. The Friday he’d left. But it hadn’t been postmarked until a few days ago. He’d written her the day he left, but hadn’t sent it. What did that mean? Did it mean anything?

Would there be more postcards? A letter? A phone call— Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. No. She wouldn’t do this to herself. Jason hadn’t made any promises, and she wasn’t going to look for reasons to hope. If he stayed in contact, all right. But one postcard, mailed a week ago, didn’t mean anything.

It couldn’t.

And if, and if the night runs over
And if, the day won’t last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony paths
It’s just a moment
This time will pass
– Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of, U2

---

Monday, February 13, 2000

Studio

Elizabeth tossed her brushes into the sink and twisted the faucet knob, the rush of cold water swirling with colors as it circled the drain. Bobbie had forced her to take an entire day off from Kelly’s, insisting that working so much wasn’t good for her.

Working too much was all that kept her from going slowly insane. She’d dropped out of college, and though she remained convinced it was the right the decision, it left her with little else to do. Emily was in New York, settling into her first semester; and Nikolas was a dead end. After that terrible scene in Kelly’s, she wanted nothing more to do with the Cassadine prince.

She’d tried to spend the day working on various unfinished projects, but she hadn’t really accomplished much. Just a few half-finished canvases she’d been grappling with for weeks—her brain felt disconnected from her fingers. Nothing was working the way she’d planned. She’d stayed in Port Charles because it had seemed like the right decision, but every time she lifted her brush to the canvas, she thought about all the places Jason must be seeing — and everywhere he might have taken her if she’d asked.

She turned off the faucet and reached for the towel to dry her hands. Her eye caught the book she’d brought him from the library while he had recuperated — Egypt. She tossed the towel aside and lifted the book, the pyramids rising high against the sky on the cover. Was Jason still in the country? She hadn’t heard from him, not since that single postcard the week before — and he’d written that the day he left. He could be anywhere now.

The book dropped back onto the table with a thud. Had he written her that first day and forgotten it? Had she’d been shoved to the back of his mind, lost in that black duffel bag he’d carried? Maybe he’d come across it, and he’d felt bad, but not badly enough to write a new card with a more recent date. Or to pick up the phone.

She’d had to stay, Elizabeth reminded herself. Couldn’t follow Jason around the country or the world, not when she was still picking up the pieces of her shattered life. But was Port Charles really the answer? Could she find what she was looking for by staying here?

Elizabeth crossed to the board where she kept pictures pinned for inspiration. She plucked out the yellow pin holding the postcard from Miami, and took it down. In a few days, it would be a month since he’d left her standing by the doorway. It was silly, she told herself, to feel angry. To feel the harsh sting of rejection.

He’d offered to stay, hadn’t he? He’d said he would try to make it work. And he’d asked her to go. She’d gone to him to suggest he leave town. What had she expected? That she’d say it, and he’d proclaim his love, declare he wouldn’t be able to live without her?

She sat on the sofa, the postcard still in her hands. “Silly,” she murmured. “Stupid to think he would have come back by now.” And irrational to be angry because Jason had done exactly what they’d both agreed was best. He needed to go, and she couldn’t follow. She’d felt so sure that morning.

But all the days that followed had chipped away at that certainty. If he’d really cared, why hadn’t he given her a way to talk to him? Why hadn’t he called? Her throat felt tight. Why was there just this one postcard with nothing more than her address scrawled across it?

Why was it so easy to walk away from her? Her parents had left her with the neighbors, her sister had gone to Europe without a backward glance, her brother had barely called from college or medical school—

Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and got to her feet. She set the postcard inside the pages of the book on Egypt, then went to set her brushes on the drying rack. The ring of her phone startled her, and she nearly left it go to answering machine—

She snatched up the receiver, and blurted out a greeting—her breath escaping in whoosh when it wasn’t Jason. Of course it wasn’t.

“Elizabeth Webber? Is this Elizabeth?”

“Yes, hello.”

“It’s Professor Shiloh. You were in my Art History class last fall.”

“Right.” Elizabeth pressed a hand to her forehead. “Professor Shiloh. I—I remember. Um, can I help you?”

“Well, I saw that you’d dropped out of the program. I was sorry to hear it—your work was promising—”

She lifted her brows at that. She hadn’t done much art in her class beyond a final project. “Thank you. I just—I thought it was a bit—I didn’t feel like it was a good fit.”

“I understand. I was looking forward to seeing you in class this semester. I had a job opportunity that would have been perfect for you. If you’re interested in a freelance position, it still might be worth looking into. Are you?”

A freelance position related to art? “Sure. Of course. I’m definitely interested.”

Quartermaine Estate: AJ & Carly’s Bedroom

Carly sat at her vanity table, staring at her reflection in the mirror. At the diamond studs in her ear, the flash of more cold gems at her wrist and on her finger. She’d spent years plotting and manipulating to get here. To be wealthy, to be comfortable. To have everything taken care of with a snap of her fingers.

And she was miserable.

AJ stepped out of the walk-in closet on his side of the room, fastening his cuff, his head bent down. He stopped at the foot of their bed and looked at her, his mouth tightening for a moment before he smoothed it out. “What are you doing today?” he asked, and though his tone was pleasant she could hear the irritation beneath it.

“There’s a lunch at the country club,” Carly said. She closed her jewelry box. “Amanda Barrington is putting together a committee for a charity thing in a few weeks. I want to be on it.” She didn’t really want to do the work, but she wanted these rich bastards to see her as one of them. She wanted the power that came with her wealth.

“How do you expect to manage that?” her husband asked coolly. “Amanda Barrington can’t stand you.”

And neither could any of the other old biddies that met at the club every day, and Carly hadn’t done much to change their mind since she and AJ had married. She’d never planned to stay his wife forever—only to force AJ back to drinking and get custody of Michael so she could resume her life with Jason—

But that option was closed to her. Even if Jason returned. Even if he forgave her. Carly now saw the futility in the plan. AJ might be an alcoholic, but he was still a Quartermaine. The name carried power. No judge would take his son from him. Jason had been right when he’d told her the plan was ridiculous—

“No one likes anyone down there,” Carly said. She cleared her throat, twisted on the stool to look at him. “But respectability can be purchased.”

He arched a brow, and she felt the heat rising in her cheeks. “You’re interested in respectability? Since when?”

“Why do you care?” she demanded. She got to her feet and went to the walk in, sorting through her clothes. He followed her.

“I guess it’s finally sunk in that my little brother has left town for good,” AJ said, and she stopped, her fingers clutching the sleeve of a silk shirt. “Whatever you were planning to get him back failed. You realize you’re stuck with me. With this marriage.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“You still think I’m an idiot. That I don’t see you for who you really are.”

She ignored him, the hangers clicking as she furiously flipped through them. The problem with AJ was that he did see her. He’d known from the beginning she was a flight risk. He’d blackmailed her into marriage, and now he held Michael over her head. If he ever found out about that night with Sonny, she’d lose everything.

“Jason’s gone,” AJ said again. “I’m here. I’ve given you everything, Carly. What more do you want?”

“You don’t want me to answer that—”

“I told you that if we got married, we could give Michael a home with both parents. We both love him,” AJ said flatly. “You could have had Jason and Michael, but you would have to share. You didn’t want joint custody.”

“I didn’t want you,” Carly spat, whirling around, her temper frayed. “I wanted Michael to have Jason—”

“What kills you, Carly, is you know I’m right,” AJ said. “You panicked and acted without thinking. Just like you always do. Michael would have had Jason as a stepfather. A father figure. I’d have hated every minute of it, and you could have twisted the knife every time Michael called Jason Daddy.”

Her breath caught as she stared at him. “What are you—”

“You’d have to turn Michael over to me for visitation, and I’d spend my life knowing my son loved Jason more than me.” AJ smirked as her eyes widened. “Eventually, maybe I’d give up. Maybe I would have done what Jason did. Step back. Let my son go so he could be happy. We’ll never know, Carly. Because you couldn’t stand the idea of sharing. Now you have Michael all to yourself, but Jason’s in the wind. Did my brother even give you his new phone number?”

Oh, God. He was right. She could have—furious tears stung her eyes and her throat burned. And Jason had cut ties. He’d shoved her out of his life. She might have had everything if she’d taken a moment to think. If she’d had the patience to play the long game.

“I hope it was worth it,” AJ said. He stepped back, his smile cruel. “Enjoy lunch, sweetheart. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Thursday, February 16, 2000

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth dumped her bag into the empty chair and sat across from Laura with a bright smile. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

Laura dismissed her concern with a wave of her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m just glad we were able to meet.” She leaned forward, her eyes bright. “Especially since you said you had good news.”

“I do. It’s a bit bittersweet—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I just gave Bobbie my two weeks notice. I got a new job.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Laura leaned back as a waitress approached to take their order. “Tell me everything,” she said when the waitress had left. “What will you be doing? Where is it?”

“That’s the great part,” Elizabeth said, nearly bouncing in her seat. “One of my art professors from last semester found out I was withdrawing from classes, and she told me she knew someone looking for a freelance artist. I’ll be working on a contract basis creating postcards and greeting cards.”

“Well, that’s perfect. You’ll be able to work at your studio?”

“Yeah, and I’ll be paid by the piece, and I’ll have a lot of creative control. They’ll just send me themes to work sometimes.” Elizabeth sipped her iced tea. “Gram is over the moon excited. I just got back from telling her. I think she had her doubts I could really make a living with my art. I still want to do my own thing and maybe a show one day, but—”

“—this is a great first step,” Laura finished, and Elizabeth nodded.

“Yeah, and it’ll keep me in my studio which is the goal. I love Kelly’s, and I’ll always be grateful to Ruby for giving me a chance. ” She looked around the small dining room where she had worked and spent so much time since moving to Port Charles. At the tables she and Lucky had pushed together that last night for dinner with Nikolas and Emily.

Barely a year ago.

“It was a great job,” Elizabeth continued, “but it’s time to move on.” She focused on Laura again. “And I think I’m finally ready.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Laura squeezed her hand. “It’s been a few weeks since Jason left,” she said after the waitress had brought their orders. “Have you heard from him?”

Elizabeth thought of the postcard she’d received. Did that even count? How could it? “No. Not in any way that matters.” She took a deep breath “And I don’t expect to. We’re both moving on.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“And you should initial here—” Alexis gestured with her pen. “And there—”

“I hate buying property,” Sonny muttered as he followed her directions. “How many trees had to die to make these contracts?”

Since this was the third real estate acquisition she’d handled since she’d taken over his representation, Alexis was used to Sonny’s complaints. She ignored them, sipped her coffee, and pointed where signatures and initials were required.

“Finally.” Sonny tossed the pen aside. “What about the permit for the coffee house? Is it on the agenda for the council meeting? Maybe I should have bought it through a holding company—”

“It’s on the agenda,” Alexis cut in smoothly as she reorganized the paperwork and slid it inside her briefcase. “There’s no hint that it won’t go through. That building has sat empty for almost a year. No other offers. It’s you or nothing. They’d rather have the revenue—”

The phone at Sonny’s desk rang, and Alexis stopped in the middle of her explanation, startled as Sonny launched himself out of the chair at the dining table and snatched up the receiver across the room.

“Hello?”

His shoulders slumped and he turned away from her. “Yeah. Okay. Right. That’s what I needed. Thanks.” Sonny set the receiver down, then turned back to smile at her, though the humor had faded from his eyes. “Sorry. You were saying—”

“He hasn’t called yet,” Alexis said, and her client sighed, dipped his eyes to the ground. “It’s been a month.”

“In another day or so, yeah.” Sonny returned to the table, much more slowly than before. “A month.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I should be used to not hearing from him,” he said more to himself than to her. “The year I was gone, I only contacted him a few times.”

“Did he have a way to talk to you if he needed?” Alexis asked. He focused on her, furrowing his brow. “Did he?” she asked again.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Sonny repeated. “If he needed to. He knew how to get word to me so I could call in. He didn’t. Not until—” His throat felt tight. “Until Brenda,” he murmured. “He came to the island to tell me.”

“You’ve depended on Jason for a very long time. He’ll call,” Alexis said. “Eventually.”

“Maybe.” Sonny sat back. “He didn’t tell anyone how to get in touch with him. Not even Elizabeth. If anyone would have known how to reach him, it would be her.”

“He was hurting, Sonny. He’s been through a lot this last year. The end of his relationship with Robin. Michael.” Alexis paused. “Everything with Carly—”

“And then me. You don’t have to shy away from it.”

“I’m sure he just needed some time and space. It’s only been a month. He has family here, Sonny. Emily and Lila. And Elizabeth. He’s not the kind of man who could walk away forever.”

“Not from them, no. But maybe from me.” Sonny stared out the window for a moment, then focused on Alexis again. “Let’s finish these contracts.”

Saturday, February 26, 2000

Studio

Emily stared at the postcard with a scowl, then over at Elizabeth. “This is it? This is all you’ve gotten? He hasn’t even called?”

Elizabeth didn’t even look up from her sketchpad, continuing to work on ideas for her first assignment. “No.”

Emily made a face, then set the postcard back on the table. She flopped down on the sofa, causing the cushions to bounce, and Elizabeth’s pencil to slide across the page. “Em—”

“Sorry—” Emily sat up, wincing.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and leaned over to look for an eraser. “We never promised to keep in touch,” she continued. “So don’t be mad at him.” Which was good advice to give herself, and she did. Every day the mail arrived and there was nothing from Jason.

“He dumped his phone,” Emily said. “I get that he didn’t want Sonny or Carly calling but—”

“He was leaving town,” Elizabeth reminded her friend, tossing the pad aside. “How could he have kept the phone number? You know they don’t work outside a certain area.” She got to her feet. “Did you come home to complain about Jason or to visit me?”

“I can do both,” Emily muttered. She folded her arms. “I just—at least with the cell phone, I could leave him messages. I could find a way to stay in contact. This—” Her hands fell to her lap and she stared down. “This is like after the accident. When he just left and we had to hear about him through word of mouth. Sometimes he came to see Grandmother, but he just disappeared from our lives. He called me once, Elizabeth. And he did it during the day when he was sure I wouldn’t be there.” She nodded at Elizabeth’s answering machine. “I bet if he knew your schedule, he’d have called you, too, and left a message.”

Elizabeth focused on the machine, wondering. Was that true? Was that why he hadn’t called? She cleared her throat, then looked back at her best friend. “Em—”

“He was fine,” Emily interrupted. “He was doing just fine, and then he wasn’t. I don’t know what they did to make him leave, but he’s gone. And he’ll never come back. Why aren’t you more angry about it?”

“I was.” Elizabeth calmly packed her colored pencils back in their container and stored them on her shelf. “But he’s gone for over a month, Em. He needed to go.” She faced Jason’s sister. “He needed to be away. The people tying him to Port Charles—we couldn’t be enough. I know you miss him. So do I. But he had to go.” And if she kept saying that, if she kept reminding herself to remember the way he’d looked that day in her studio, miserable and at the end of his rope, it would be easier to believe it.

She did believe it. He’d needed to go. But it didn’t change how much she hated it. Or how much she resented that he’d been able to cut her off so cleanly. If he missed her, why hadn’t he tried harder to call her? Why weren’t there more postcards? Why hadn’t he written anything on that stupid card from Miami?

Emily nodded. “All right. Okay. I just wish we could have fixed it. If I had been here—”

If Emily hadn’t left for school, maybe Jason would have managed a few more months, but— “It is what it is. And eventually, Jason will get in touch. He loves you, Em. He’d never leave you forever.”  Elizabeth forced herself to smile at her friend. “Let’s talk about something else. Anything else.”

Tuesday, March 7, 2000

New Orleans, Louisiana: Bourbon Street

Jason had read about Mardi Gras and seen pictures, so he’d backtracked east, thinking it might be interesting and different.  He wanted something different, didn’t he?

He was miserable.

The streets were crowded with drunk college students and adults who were old enough to know better — he’d been flashed by more women than he’d ever seen in his life, and had turned down several drunken propositions before noon.

Still, Jason had driven nearly halfway across the country to be here, so he continued down the street, promising himself he’d be tucked into his hotel room with the shades drawn when the sun went down in a few hours and the city went really wild.

He found a quiet street, little more than an alley off Bourbon Street, and he eagerly turned, wanting a break from the smell of liquor mixed with vomit emanating from the sidewalks and the street. How could anyone stand it?

The buildings were nice. They were old, and he liked that. The street was narrow, from a time before cars — but he probably could have driven the bike —

He saw a young woman perched on a stool in front of an easel, her back to him while she faced the person whose picture she was drawing. With lightning quick hand movements, an exaggerated person with a large head and small body appeared on the canvas. Elizabeth could have told him why it was like that—

Jason grimaced, then turned away, heading back to the smells and sounds of Bourbon Street. He needed to stop thinking about her. Had to stop. This was never going to work if all he thought about was going back.

Nothing would have changed. Carly would still be there, trying to use Michael to control him, and Sonny would still be pretending he knew best, and Jason would still feel like he was being choked from two sides—

He’d had to leave, but maybe he hadn’t gone far enough.