Written in 53 minutes.

Sunday, October 15, 2000

Luke’s: Main Bar

Jason slid into the chair across from Sonny, then angled himself slightly so that he could at least see the entrance from his position. He’d always understood why Sonny liked this area of the club — on his side, against the wall, there was a bench-type seating that stretched across the entire section, with a half wall and then a wooden lattice that stretched up the ceiling. It was just to the right of the entrance, and Sonny could see the entire bar — and also keep an eye on who was walking into the bar while his own presence was shielded until that person was all the way inside.

But anyone meeting with Sonny would be vulnerable to the room, and Jason had always done his best to avoid sitting in it when the club was open.

Unfortunately, the night was in full swing — the band was playing, the dance floor was filled, and the bar was packed with regulars.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” Sonny asked, tapping the edge of his cigar in the ashtray. “Remember when we were here almost every night?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” A lifetime ago, Jason thought. Before Sonny had abandoned Brenda at the altar, Luke’s had been his primary meeting place, especially when Luke was out of town on one adventure or another. When Luke and Sonny had been partners in friendship as well as business.

That part of their lives had ended more than a year ago, when the garage had been burnt to ashes, Lucky one of the casualties of Sonny’s war to take back the territory.

“Sorel’s been sniffing around here,” Sonny told Jason. “Here, the Oasis, and a few other places. Most of them on the border, like Luke’s. But a few of his guys have been to Kelly’s.” Which was most definitely not a border property.

Jason exhaled slowly. “You think he’s going to try some thing?”

“I think Sorel is under the impression that I’ve pulled back from this part of the business. You know, since we opened the warehouse, and I’ve been stabilizing the international routes.” Sonny tipped his head. “Haven’t been thinking about the clubs. The bread and butter. I got the contacts for that side of it, but you know these players better than I do.”

And they hated Jason more for selling out to Moreno, but sure, that meant Jason knew the players. “Okay, so—”

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning. About how we gotta figure out how we’re going to make this work with you sticking around longer. And I think this is how we do it. Divide and conquer. You take the point here,” Sonny said, nodding towards the bar where Luke was visible through the crowds. “And the other places. I’ll call Tommy. He’ll get you set up. Maybe Luke will let you work out of here like we did in the old days.”

It was a solution of sorts, and Jason knew that Sonny meant it as an olive branch. “Have you talked to Luke about this?”

“Luke knows I’m planning to stick close.”

“That you’re planning to,” Jason said. He paused. “He might not want me around. There was—he just might not me sticking so close.”

“Sorel’s got his eye on these places, Jase. And we both agreed that Sorel might be dumb enough to think certain people are back on the table with you around. I figure you’d want to take the lead on this. Since Elizabeth is involved.”

Which was  the exact reason Jason might be the worst person for the job. Elizabeth might not have an issue with the bar fight at Jake’s, but Lucky certainly did, and Luke tended to follow his kid. Or might take exception to the bruised jaw Jason had left Lucky with.

“Look, if you’re not sure—” Sonny held up his hands. “Run it by Luke. If he vetoes it, we’ll figure something else out.”

Hardy House: Kitchen

Elizabeth slid into the chair, smiling wanly when her grandmother set down the bowl of clam chowder. “You really didn’t have to go to the trouble—”

“I’ve never become comfortable with cooking only for myself,” Audrey said, taking another chair at the small table in the corner of their kitchen. “I looked after your grandfather for so many years, and then Tommy stayed here for a while after we…” Her smile faded slightly. “After we lost Steve. And then you and Sarah—you’re doing me a favor, dear.”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth dipped her spoon into the bowl, then swirled it around. “I know you probably want to know why I came here today. Or sat upstairs the whole time.”

“I do. But only if you want to tell me.”

“I…” Elizabeth sighed. Hours she’d spent alone in her teenaged bedroom, planning the words in her head — what she would say to Lucky, to Chloe, to her grandmother, to Emily—to anyone who might not understand. And the moment she’d opened her mouth, all of that careful preparation had fled. “I really was a brat when I moved here, wasn’t I?”

Audrey folded her arms on the table, and Elizabeth looked away, uncomfortable with her grandmother’s penetrating stare. “A brat,” she repeated. “You know, I find that I don’t quite like that word. I don’t find it to be a useful description of anyone, particularly not you. You were rebellious. Resistant. And a little brittle.”

“Brittle,” Elizabeth repeated, squinting. “I don’t think anyone’s used that one before.”

“Brittle bones are easily broken. Fragile,” Audrey added. “One look, one brush, and they might crumble. You were rebellious, yes, my darling. But it was a mask. A disguise you wore to hide who you really were. And it took some time before you trusted me to see that person.”

“Rebellious and brittle. Selfish, too, right?” Elizabeth asked, picking up the spoon. “Shallow?”

Audrey was quiet for a long moment, her brow furrowed. “I suppose I could have used those words. You certainly resented any attention Sarah received, and at first, I assumed it was because you wanted it for yourself. After all, look at what you did to capture my notice. You ran away from the Johnsons, used my credit cards to order pizzas, got caught smoking, used my car without a license—” Audrey tipped her head. “You pulled some…stunts with your sister, trying to embarrass her. Yes, there were some elements of selfishness in all of those things, I think. And I was…at a loss to understand how to help you. Until I realized who I was really seeing when I looked at you and your sister.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I had an older sister, you know that. Lucille. The golden daughter who could never do anything wrong. Who chose the safe, expected life. She became a nurse, went to work, and while she never married, she remained respectable and above reproach.” Audrey smiled. “My parents worshiped her, and I was often frustrated because I never seemed to measure up. I tried. I went into nursing just to show her she wasn’t so special. And then I became a stewardess so I could pretend that I was so much better than she was, jetsetting around the world, never having to answer to anyone.”

“Until you met Gramps.”

“I never intended to stay in Port Charles. To build a life. But I was glad that I did. That the twists and turns of my life gave me Steve, my Tommy—” Audrey reached out, covered Elizabeth’s hand. “You and your sister. And of course, your brother. Once I realized that you were me, and Sarah was your Lucille, I tried to use that. I think we were…I think we were making progress, don’t you? You seemed…happier. More settled. Until…”

“Until I was raped.” Elizabeth’s stomach turned over, and she pushed the bowl away. “I keep thinking of who I used to be. Who I am now. And how much of is it because of the rape.”

Audrey flinched the first time Elizabeth had used the word, but she did better the second time. “Is that an important question for you to answer?”

“I didn’t used to think so. I didn’t…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Do you remember when we went shopping for that dress? For the dance? How many I tried on?”

“Yes, you were kept specific. You wanted a certain color, and a certain style. You knew what flattered you, and you were correct. You looked so lovely that night. I hope that’s all right to say.”

“It’s—yes. Yes,” Elizabeth repeated, and the second time, she knew she meant it. “I was so miserable,  so unhappy with myself for lying to Lucky. For not  being able to shake off his rejection. Because for a little while, I’d felt so beautiful and ready for anything. I was so sure…” She looked down at the table, picked at a seam in the Formica. “I was so sure that Lucky would take one look at me and fall in love.”

“Elizabeth.”

“It’s okay. It is. Um, my point is—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “That used to be something I cared about. My colors, and the type of clothing that flattered me. I’m…I’m short, but I have long legs for my height. A-and I’ll never fill out a shirt the way Pamela Anderson does, but I know how to make the most of what I have. I just…” She met her grandmother’s eyes. “And I don’t just know that for me. I know it for you, for Emily — and for everyone. I’m good at that kind of thing.”

“You have an artistic eye,” Audrey said. She lifted her brows. “But, yes, a flair for fashion. Is this your way of telling me that you’ve decided to take the job?”

“Yes. I-I don’t know if it’s something I’ll want forever, but Chloe’s offering me an opportunity to do something I only dreamed of when I was younger. I—” Elizabeth brushed a tear from her cheek, sniffled. “I used to think that those things — being selfish and shallow a-and rebellious — that it was the reason Tom Baker hurt me. Because if I hadn’t been those things, I-I wouldn’t have been in the park that n-night. So I put them in a box and I put them away. I became someone else. Someone that people liked and respected. Loved,” she said softly, looking back at her hands. “I don’t know if the people in my life would be here if I were still that girl.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I don’t know if Lucky can love me the way I am now. The way I think I want to be. But I don’t know if I love him the way he is now, either. So I guess what I’m saying is…I need to find out. And Chloe’s giving me a chance to do that. I need to take it. I have to do this.”

Luke’s: Bar

“Don’t usually see you in here,” Luke said when Jason slid onto an empty stool. “Not with people around.”

Jason made a face. “I’m here on business. Sonny told you about Sorel, didn’t he?”

Luke popped the top from a green bottle of Rolling Rock, then set it down in front of him. “That he’s nibbling at the edges of Sonny’s fledgling empire? Yeah. He mentioned that.”

“He wants me to handle it. The clubs. You, Kelly’s, the other places.”

“He wants you to deal with the anklebiters while he handles the big fish.” Luke smirked, folded his arms and leaned against the bar back. “Not the first time he’s trying to get you to clean up his mess.”

“This is…actually my mess,” Jason admitted. “I sold out to Moreno. Everything that’s happened since comes back to that.”

“Maybe. Or maybe Sonny hasn’t been focused on the big picture. He likes to think he’s Don Corleone, you know—” Luke nodded over to Sonny’s booth. “Sitting there, granting favors like it’s his daughter’s wedding day. But he’s just like his namesake. Hot-headed to the core and probably gonna end up shot up at a toll booth.” At Jason’s mystified look, Luke scowled. “Oh come on, tell me you’ve seen the Godfather.”

“The movie?”

“No culture, none of you.” Luke made a face. “Okay. So Sonny’s leaving this to you. What’re you telling me for?”

Jason lifted his brows. “I didn’t think you’d want me around.” He paused. “Unless you don’t know that I knocked your kid unconscious at Jake’s the other night.”

Luke pursed his lips, tilted his head. “Cowboy had some bruises when he came by earlier today. Didn’t mention you. You have a good reason to slug him?”

Jason considered the answer. “I wanted to hit someone and his face was there.”

“That is…” Luke considered. “That’s a fair answer. Look, if you’re half as observant as you used to be, then I guess you know Cowboy and Lizzie are having their issues. You planning to get in the way of that?”

“In the way?” Jason echoed. “What does that mean?”

“Well, it means that last year Sorel thought Lizzie was a great way to get to you. Put a bomb in her studio to take you out, and didn’t much care she would get blown up with you. He’s got a long memory, guys in this business always do. You left town, I heard, in part, to make her safe. Now you’re back. And the only way to keep her safe is to stay away.” Luke paused. “Which is easy since she’s in a relationship with my kid. So I’ll ask again — you planning to get in the way of my kid and put Liz back on the board for Sorel to screw with?”

Jason picked up his beer, considered his answer for a long moment. “I’m planning to let Elizabeth decide what she wants to do,” he said finally. He got to his feet. “And yeah, Sorel thought she was a way to get to me. He’d be right. Is that a problem for you?”

“Only if the next bomb ends up in my bar or hurting that girl. I’ll leave the rest of it up to you. And her. And Lucky.”

“Then we don’t have any problems. I’ll see you around, Luke.”

+29

Written in 56 minutes.

Sunday, October 15, 2000

Hardy House: Living Room

“Oh, this is a lovely surprise.” Audrey was beaming when she saw her granddaughter step inside the front door, pause on the landing, but the brightness of her smile dimmed when she saw Elizabeth’s expression, the way her eyes refused to lift in greeting, the way Elizabeth held her bag, almost protectively in front of herself. “What’s happened?”

“I—” Elizabeth glanced up, then looked away quickly. “I just wanted to know if I could…I don’t know. Sit in my old room for a while. I just—” She stepped back when Audrey came forward. “I just need somewhere to sit. Where no one can find me.”

“All right.” Audrey folded her arms, worried she might rush forward to hug Elizabeth and send her granddaughter fleeing. “Well, your room is just as you left it. And my darling, you know that you never have to ask, don’t you? It’s your room. And this will always be your home.”

“Thank you. I’ll—I’ll just go up then.”

She practically fled up the stairs, and Audrey remained rooted to the floor until she heard the soft click of the door upstairs. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Elizabeth look that way, sound that way —

Not for months. Years.

What had happened?

Luke’s: Office

Luke sifted through the ledger, grimacing when another stack of invoices and papers cascaded from the pages. He hated doing quarterly taxes — hated even more that he didn’t trust anyone to handle his money. Certainly not anyone working for him right now.

“Luke.”

“I’m busy,” Luke grumbled, looking through the mess from the remains of his cigar. “Come back next year.”

“Luke.”

He lifted his gaze to the door, frowning when he saw his bar manager. “Claude, can’t you do anything?”

“Your kid came in, grabbed a bottle of Hennessy and went to sit at a table in the corner. Figured you’d want to know.”

“Hennessy?” Luke repeated. “Christ. A whole damn bottle? You didn’t want to give him any the rotgut that costs us pennies?” He didn’t wait for Claude’s answer, hurrying out to the main room of the bar. There were only a handful of patrons this time of day, most had come to listen to that night’s band warm-up and run their set. A few had no where else to be —

And there was his boy, slouched over one of the tables in the back corners, table that Sonny or his ilk usually commandeered when they came to the club because you could get a good look at the rest of the bar — and the entrance.

“I didn’t ask you to sit down,” Lucky muttered when Luke pulled out the chair across from him. He took another long pull from the bottle, scowling when Luke tugged it from his grasp. “Hey—”

“You wanna get drunk in solitude, you go somewhere people don’t know you, but I’m guessing you came here because you can’t afford this on your own dime, so you decided to rip me off.”

Lucky pressed his lips together, sat back with a sullen expression. “You gonna charge me? Since when did you turn into a penny pincher?”

“Since I saw my tax bill.” Luke paused. “Drinking in the middle of the day? Only one thing makes a guy crazy enough to do that, and it’s a girl. You and Liz have a fight?”

“A fight?” Lucky repeated. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. We were talking and then it took a nose dive, and all of sudden, she’s running away from me, and crying—” he stopped, shook his head. “Yeah, okay, we had a fight.”

Luke got up, put the brandy bottle back where it belonged, then poured two tumblers of a cheaper, but decent whiskey. He returned to the table, set one in front of Lucky. “It happens that way. You say something, and she hears something something else. Before you know it, you’re yelling. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Well, Elizabeth thinks I only fell in love with because she got raped, so—” Lucky tossed back the entire content of the tumbler, grimacing as he swallowed the liquor. “You tell me.”

Luke tipped his eyed, squinted. “That’s a pretty big left turn, Cowboy. How’d she get on that road in the first place? I thought she put that away a long time.”

“Yeah, because that’s the kind of thing that you just turn the page on, right, Dad?” Lucky demanded his eyes hot. Reminiscent of the angry teenager he’d been. “File away in a folder, and forget.”

Luke counted to ten, then took a deep breath. “I just meant that I thought she was past the worst of it. She seemed like her old self again, most of the time.”

“Her old self.” Lucky rolled his eyes. “You never met her old self, Dad. You don’t even know what we’re talking about here.”

“Well, I know she was a kid when she rolled in here. Angry, resentful. Lashing out, and looking for attention.” Luke lifted his brows. “Barbara told me that she was working for Ruby because she’d used all her money coming here on a first class plane ticket. That she had a piss-poor attitude and a chip on her shoulder. Ruby liked her.”

“She’d be one of the few,” Lucky muttered, staring into the empty tumbler, twisting it back and forth in his hands. “Lizzie had two goals — ruin Sarah’s life and impress me. And she failed most of the time. At both.”

Luke exhaled slowly. “Lizzie,” he repeated. “You, ah, don’t call her that much anymore. But it’s how you introduced us. At Kelly’s. Lizzie Webber. When you’d stop doing that?”

“I—” Lucky squinted, looked at him. “What?”

“You’re describing someone you don’t like very much,” Luke said.”You called her Lizzie. You don’t do that. You call her Elizabeth. Always. Just thought it was interesting. You talk about them like they’re two different people.”

“Lizzie and Elizabeth,” Lucky echoed. He scrubbed a hand down his face, closed his eyes, kept them closed as he continued to speak. “She was trying to tell me about this job offer. From Chloe Morgan. To be her assistant. She’d have to travel a lot. She’d never be around. And she was telling me she used to like fashion. Used to follow all that stuff. I didn’t know that.” He looked at his father. “I didn’t know that. But I should have, I guess. She got all girly over meeting Brenda, you know? Desperate to get into the wedding, and stole Ruby’s invitation. I figured it was…you know, for me. But maybe it was Brenda.”

“And now she has a chance to get back into that?” Luke pressed. “Is that why you were fighting?”

“It’s how it started. And—no, I didn’t know that. Why would I have known that?” Lucky told him. “We weren’t friends or anything. She was just around all the time, and she was at the diner, and around Sarah. Why would I have known what she was into? We were friendly, Dad, not friends.”

“Because you didn’t like her.”

“No. That doesn’t make me an asshole, Dad—”

“No. It doesn’t. But it means that there’s some truth in what Liz said, isn’t there? You didn’t like before she was raped. Now you’re in love. So—”

Lucky winced. “I might have said something about how she’s better now,” he muttered.

“Starting to see how you got here, aren’t we, Cowboy?” Luke pushed his untouched whiskey towards his son. “Look, no one is saying that you fell in love with because she was raped. Or I’m not saying that,” he added when Lucky glared at him. “I’m saying you didn’t give her much of a chance before that. And then, after, you got to know her better. You fell in love with her.”

“She doesn’t see it that way—”

“Well, give her a break, Cowboy. If you used the actual words better now then you’re probably lucky she didn’t run you into a fence with the car.” When Lucky frowned at him, Luke shrugged. “Your mom has a wicked temper when you cross her. I’d be careful. At any rate, maybe you give her some space and come back to this when she’s had a chance to calm down.”

Hardy House: Elizabeth’s Bedroom

Elizabeth slid her fingertips across her walls, still adorned with the posters she’d put up when she’d first moved up — pinups ripped from Bop and Tiger Beat of boy bands and soap opera hunks. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the remnants of her old life. The pieces she’d never pulled down. She hadn’t wanted to let her grandmother know anything was that awful, and then she didn’t have the time, she was so rarely here.

And after the fire, she hadn’t had the energy for any of it. Then she’d moved out—and they’d sat here. Evidence of the carefree girl she’d been once.

You were a brat, and you’d be the first to say so. You were shallow and obsessed with how you looked and getting me to look at you. To get anyone to look at you. That’s not who you are now. You’re a better person.

“Better person,” Elizabeth murmured. She stared at her finger tips, at chipped nail polish she hadn’t had time to remove and repaint, then looked over at the closet. Did she still have any here?

She folded back the door, and bent down, rooting through the shoebox full of old makeup, trying to find a bottle that wasn’t hopelessly dried out. Suddenly, redoing her nails was all she could think about.

She moved to a different box, then saw one in the corner — this one was larger, a moving box left over from one the Johnsons had shipped from Colorado once Elizabeth had fled their house. They’d probably been relieved to be rid of her, Elizabeth thought wryly. So relieved they’d paid the exorbitant shipping.

Her amusement faded. You were a brat.

With her stomach rolling, Elizabeth tugged at the box, pulling it out of the closet. She sat on her carpeted floor, her legs folded in front of her, and pulled back the flaps. When she removed the third spaghetti-strap tank, she remembered now what this was, and when she’d pushed it to the back of her closet.

After the rape, when she’d worn nothing but those sweaters, flannels, and denim, she’d packed up anything that she thought was too revealing, anything that drew attention, and shoved it into the closet. Bright colors, shorts, skirts, anything that didn’t hit the knee—

She’d needed to pull some pieces out when they were trying to trap Mr. Murty into admitting he’d attacked her. Elizabeth slid her fingers over a scarlet red tube top. It had been her favorite color once. She’d bought the dress for the dance in the same shade. So sure that if Lucky could see her at her best, that he’d fall in love with her.

Because I knew you had a crush on me

He’d known, and he’d still said yes to hanging out at the dance together. Still said yes to going out with her sister. Had known and decided to break her heart in person by backing out of their plans. If he’d just called — would she had lied to him—

No. Elizabeth closed her eyes, squeezing her hands into the fabric of the tube top. No. It wasn’t his fault she’d been raped. It hadn’t been her fault. He had a right to be an asshole teenaged boy, and she’d had the right to be a girl with a broken heart.

She shoved the clothing aside. It was time to go through it — to donate what was out of style, and maybe put some of the pieces back in rotation. She hadn’t died that night in the park — there was no reason her fashion sense needed to have so much in common with her grandmother. And she’d already started to wear red again, hadn’t she?

At the bottom of the box, she found her fashion magazines — Vogue, Elle, Coutour —and her silly teenage ones — YM and Seventeen, and of course, Teen Vogue.

She’d hidden all these pieces away, the revealing clothing, the magazines, everything that made her feel like she’d made herself a target somehow. Worrying about what she wore, what people thought about her, what she looked like — everything that she thought was the reason Tom Baker had grabbed her in the park.

Maybe it was selfish and self-centered to take this job, to put herself in front of what Lucky needed, and maybe it was going back to who she’d been once. But maybe it was just what she needed, the last piece to make her whole again.

She’d take the job. And damn the consequences.

+36

Written in 55 minutes.

Sunday, October 15, 2000

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth swirled a straw in her orange juice, and wrinkled her nose. “For the last week, I don’t think I’ve left this place for more than a few hours. But at least I’m finally done doing penance for no showing when we went to Canada.”

Across the table, she heard nothing more of a grunt in response. Lucky seemed intent on cutting his French Toast into bite size pieces that were uniform in size because he kept slicing them into smaller and smaller bits.

She cleared her throat, then played with the remnants of her straw wrapper. She knew what conversation they needed to have, and she knew what the outcome of that conversation needed to be. They need to come to an understand about their relationship, and how it would fit into the future she envisioned for herself.

This would be so much easier if she had a better handle of the future Lucky envisioned. What did he want? What were his dreams? Was there a way she could start with that? She bit her lip, then took a deep breath. “How are things with your dad?”

Lucky jerked a shoulder. “I quit.”

“Oh.” Dead end, obviously. “How was dinner last night? I haven’t seen Lulu in a while. How’s school?”

“Don’t know. I don’t know if we got into it.” Lucky finally lifted his head, squinted at her. “Are you really not going to say anything?”

“About what?” she asked. “About your sister?”

“No.” He dropped his utensils, the fork and knife clattering to the table and hitting the side of the plate with a clink of metal against crockery. “You couldn’t wait to ask me about the bruises yesterday, and now you’re pretending they’re not there.”

“I’m not pretending.” Elizabeth folded her arms in front of her. “I asked you yesterday, and you decided not to answer. Also…” She tipped her head. “I know where they came from. You and Jason got into a fight at Jake’s.”

“I knew. I knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.” Lucky scowled, sat back, almost sprawling in the chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, one arm slung along the back of the chair. “He ran right over to you, didn’t?”

“No,” she drew out, “I ran into him last night on the docks. Whatever you guys have going on, it’s between the two of us. You don’t need to answer to me.” She sighed. “Lucky, I really don’t care. He said you threw the first punch, and then told me he said something to make you hit him. So you’re both at fault as far as I’m concerned, and it’s still not my problem—”

“You know he’s hanging around right?” Lucky cut in, and she made another face. “He’s not leaving. Why do you think that is?”

“I—because of Emily,” Elizabeth said. “She was just kidnapped, and that case isn’t even over—”

“He’s hanging around for you.”

Elizabeth paused, frowned at him. “What?”

“He must still think he’s got a shot with you. You told him, didn’t you, that we’re back together? He knows that you’re mine, doesn’t he?”

Now it was Elizabeth who sat back, folding her arms tightly across her chest, unsure what to say, how to continue the conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And it’s not really why I wanted to have breakfast today—”

“Why am I not surprised you want to change the subject, huh? You don’t want to talk about Jason anymore?”

“I didn’t bring him up in the first place,” Elizabeth retorted. She threw her napkin on the table, got to her feet, reaching for her purse looped over the back of the chair at the same time. “You know what, come find me when you’re in a better mood.”

She barely reached the edge of the courtyard before Lucky’s arm snatched her elbow and pulled her back to face him. Her heart racing, Elizabeth shoved him back without thinking. “Don’t grab me like that!”

Lucky put both his hands up in a mock surrender. “I’m sorry. I lost my temper. Let’s just—let’s start over.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re in a bad mood, which means this conversation is going to go nowhere.” Elizabeth folded her arms again, pressure building behind her eyes, her throat beginning to feel tight. “You’re mad at me, and I don’t know why. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Nothing—nothing.” Lucky let out an impatient breath, scrubbed both hands down his face. “Nothing,” he repeated, and this time his tone sounded more like the Lucky she knew. The Lucky she’d loved. “I’m just pissed at myself, okay? I went off on my dad, and quit. My mother offered me a job, and so did Nikolas, and I told them both to go to hell because it’s nothing but charity at this point. You all feel sorry for me, and I hate it.”

She softened, then bit her lip. “We’ve been through so much, Lucky. Separately, when you were gone. And since you’ve been back. And I’m a guilty as anyone else, you know. Expecting that just having you home would be like magic, that it could all go back to the way it used to be.”

“It was all I thought about while I was gone. At first,” he added. “Before they started…” Lucky cleared, his eyes shifting away. “Before I wasn’t in control anymore. I thought about you, and I kept telling myself that I needed to get back to you. It was the only thing I had to hold on to. Getting home to you.” He looked at her, and there was so much of her Lucky that she almost couldn’t breathe.

“But we can’t go back,” she forced herself to say. “Because we’re not those people anymore, Lucky. For months, I could barely function, I could barely think of anything except for you. I didn’t go to New York. I pretended to smile, I pretend to live because I didn’t want anyone to worry about me, but I just wanted you to come home—”

“And I did—” Lucky came towards her, as if to embrace her, but Elizabeth took a step back.

“You didn’t. You didn’t come home. For a year, Lucky. I lived in a world without you. And I had to piece myself back together. I did that. I figured out how to survive. I decided who I was going to be. And I was making plans for the rest of my life.”

“Plans that included Jason?” Lucky demanded, that tightness back in his voice.

“No. No. That was—” A fragment of a dream she’d barely begun to even form before Jason had left. “That was not what happened. He was gone, too, Lucky. It was just me. Then Luke told me you were alive, and you were standing in front of me. But you weren’t you. You know that. Do you think it was easy for me these last six months? I know it was the brainwashing,” she said when Lucky opened his mouth. “I know that. But I didn’t. For months, I thought you were playing with my feelings. Pushing me towards Nikolas, pulling back. It was exhausting, Lucky. And painful.”

“It wasn’t me—”

“It was your voice, your face, your body. All of those things are still true, Lucky.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’m glad that we know why. And it does make a difference that you didn’t want to do those things, but they still happened. And it’s not fair to ask me to pretend like they didn’t. To pretend that you weren’t gone.”

“You didn’t seem to care about any of that when you found out about the brainwashing,” Lucky retorted. “You were happy to jump right back in with me—”

“Because I thought you were back. I thought that it would all go back to the way it used to be. But it hasn’t, Lucky.”

“It’s been a week—”

“I know, and maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all except—I have a decision to make. One that could change my whole life. One that takes me away from you for a little while.”

“A little while? Six months—”

“Two at most. And so what? So what?” Elizabeth demanded. “Why can’t I go and do this amazing thing? You’re not alone here. You could come see me, we’ll call and we’ll write—”

Lucky snorted, shook his head. “So that’s what all of this is about. You just want to run off and play fashion designer. You don’t even give a damn about any of that! What happened to your art?”

“I used to,” Elizabeth said, and he frowned at her. “I used to care a lot. I read every fashion magazine. But you didn’t know that. You don’t know anything about who I was before I was raped.” Tears slid down her cheeks, hot and painful. “You didn’t want to know anything.”

“What was there to know?” Lucky said, with a careless shrug. “You were a brat, and you’d be the first to say so. You were shallow and obsessed with how you looked and getting me to look at you. To get anyone to look at you. That’s not who you are now. You’re a better person.”

She could scarcely speak, could scarcely force out the words, the pain was too stark, the light from the sun above them felt suddenly blinding. “I’m…” She stopped. “I’m a better person because I was raped?”

His eyes went wide. “What? That’s not what I said—” He stepped towards her, but she stepped back again. “Elizabeth, come on. That’s not fair. You grew up—”

“I can’t—I can’t—” She shook her head. You were a brat. Shallow. “I always knew…” She fisted her hand, pressed it against her abdomen as if that would assuage the pain. Brat. Shallow.

What was there to know?

“Elizabeth—”

“I always knew you didn’t like me much,” Elizabeth managed finally, and he scowled. “But I don’t think I realized how much…how much you disliked me. Before. I wasn’t good enough for you.” She looked away, brushed away her tears with the heel of one hand. “I wasn’t good enough for you,” she repeated, looking back at him. “Before.”

“Hey. Come on, you know that’s not what I meant. Elizabeth—”

“I’m a better person now,” Elizabeth repeated. “Now. Before, I was a brat who was obsessed with you.”

Lucky’s tone was gentle. “I don’t want to make you feel embarrassed, okay? Because I knew you had a crush on me—”

“Y-you knew.” Of course he had. She hadn’t really covered it much, but she’d never really—she’d never put it all together. “You knew. When you came to tell me you were going to the dance with my sister instead. You knew I’d asked you…”

“I—” Lucky’s face was pale. He must have started to put the pieces together in his head, maybe he understood the implication of what he’d said. “I guess—”

“I need to go. Okay? I need to—” Elizabeth threw up a hand when he started to follow. “I have to go. Don’t follow me. Don’t come near me. I can’t look at you right now.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny closed the door behind Carly, Michael, and the guard he’d sent with them, then turned back to Jason. “Sorry, I, uh, thought they’d be gone before you got here.”

“It’s fine.” Jason folded his arms. “What did you need?”

“I got a call from Paulie—he’s over at the PCPD, working lock up where they’re holding Smith while he’s waiting on trial.” Sonny returned to the breakfast table where the remains of their morning meal still sat, and picked up his half-empty coffee cup. He needed to have something in his hands, something that would occupy him. “Smith is meeting with his lawyer almost daily.”

“He’s facing serious charges. Kidnapping is—I think that’s still twenty-five years, isn’t it?” Jason asked.

“Something like that. I was thinking maybe if we can get Paulie on night shift, we can get him to send a message to Smith. Maybe promise him protection at Pentonville if he turns on Sorel,” Sonny continued. “Problem is I don’t know if I can back up that promise. You—” He winced. “You mostly handled that side.”

“So you need my contact,” Jason said. “Is that it?”

“Yeah. I guess. I thought we should get the deal in place as soon as possible. Or I wouldn’t have asked you over this morning—” Sonny looked at the booster seat with Michael, nearly three, had sat during breakfast. “I wouldn’t keep doing this to you.”

Jason followed his gaze, then grimaced. “Sonny. I told you—” He stopped, and Sonny looked at him, watched as Jason seemed to have some sort of internal discussion with himself. “Look, when I said I forgave you, you didn’t believe me. I know Carly didn’t.”

“How could I? I stole your family—”

“Michael and Carly aren’t possessions,” Jason said gently, and Sonny looked away. “Carly is a person who makes her own choices. And she made hers. And Michael deserves to have people in his life who will love him. But you were right. I didn’t and don’t forgive you. Either of you.”

Elizabeth had been right, Jason thought, seeing the relief flood Sonny’s expression, the muscles in his face seemed to relax. “Forgiving means I accept what you did and why. And I don’t.  I won’t,” he added. “But that doesn’t mean I have to be angry about it for the rest of my life.”

“Jase—”

Jason stopped Sonny, holding up his hand. “I’m not angry about it. And I’m not hurt. Not anymore. It happened, and we can’t change it. You and Carly, if you think that being together is what you should do, then okay. Do that. I know you’ll be good for Michael. But we don’t have to do this. I’m not a threat to whatever you want to have with Carly.”

Sonny exhaled slowly, then nodded. “Okay. Okay. I know you said that before, but—”

“You didn’t believe me.”

“I wouldn’t have forgiven you either,” Sonny said, and Jason tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I know things won’t go back to what they were—”

“I don’t expect them to. It’s different now. I also—I need this to be the last time we ever talk about it. I want to be done with it,” Jason said. “If you’re still feeling conflicted, that’s not my problem. So if you can’t handle me being here because I remind you of it, then tell me, and I won’t be here.”

“Simple as that, huh?” Sonny muttered. He took another sip of his coffee, looked at the Port Charles skyline out the penthouse window. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to see what happens.”

+36

Written in 61 minutes.

Saturday, October 14, 2000

Elm Street Pier

It would have been easier if Elizabeth been angrier about the fight with Lucky, or maybe he should have kept his mouth shut when she looked like she was going to put the blame entirely on her boyfriend.

But it wouldn’t have been the truth, and he wasn’t going to lie to her. Not even to save face or spare his dignity, such as it was.

What’s going on that you wanted to start a fight?

“I don’t know,” Jason said, and she made a face, looked down at her lap. “I mean that, I’m not just saying that to get out of trouble—”

“You’re not in trouble,” Elizabeth said, head head snapping up, her eyes on his with that flicker of irritation he usually saw used against someone else. “You don’t owe me anything. You said Lucky threw the first punch. Fine. I’ll let the two of you figure it out. It’s none of my business.”

She got to her feet and started towards the stairs, and he nearly let her. He knew why she was angry — he wasn’t an idiot.

“I don’t want to be here.”

She stopped at the base of the steps, one hand on the wooden railing, then slowly turned around. “You mean in Port Charles.”

Jason sighed, got to his feet, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jacket. “Yeah. It’s not you. Or Emily. Or—” He looked out to the water, the familiar sounds of the dock. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “I don’t really have a place here.”

He heard her footsteps coming towards him, her shoes scuffling along the planks. “What does that mean? A place with who? To do what?”

“I—” He exhaled slowly, then finally looked at her. “Those are good questions.” Jason scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know,” he repeated for third time.

“Okay.” She bit her lip, folded her arms. “Well, I could pretend to play dumb and act like I don’t know why you left last winter, but I know. Sonny and Carly. They slept together. And now they’re married.” Her voice shifted slightly, becoming a little strained. “It can’t be easy watching Sonny with Carly and Michael since…they were supposed to be your family.”

“That—” Jason stopped, dipped his head. Was that it? He repeated the words in his head, thought about the day before, being with Carly and Michael before Sonny had come in. “No. No, that’s not it. It’s—I don’t care about that. I don’t,” he insisted when she just arched a brow. “I gave up on that a long time ago. It wasn’t easy, and I’ll always miss being Michael’s father, but all I ever wanted was for him to be happy, and he is. I think—” He paused, considering how to articulate the thought, then shook his head, looked back toward Spoon Island.

“I had an idea in my head, I guess, it was supposed to be like that. That Michael was my son, and sometimes I could see Carly being part of that. But it was an idea, not one that I ever thought would happen. But it was all Carly thought about. All she talked about, and I liked it enough to hold on to it. I didn’t really have anything else,” he admitted to himself.

Elizabeth said nothing, and he looked back at her, weighing her reaction, wondering if she’d protest, reminding him that she’d been there last year. That he’d had her friendship. Carly would have, he thought. She’d have made sure he was keeping her in the narrative, giving her the position and weight in his life that she felt entitled to.

But Elizabeth remained quiet, just looking at him with that expression that made him feel uncomfortable inside, made something in his throat feel scratchy. “It doesn’t matter if it was real or ever going to happen. Because Sonny decided it wouldn’t happen. And he made sure it didn’t. He knew if he slept with Carly, I’d see she didn’t really love me. And I didn’t need him to show me that. I already knew it.”  And he hadn’t really loved her, but he couldn’t say that then. He’d wanted that dream. He’d wanted Michael, and he’d been willing to do almost anything to make that happen.

“Last year, you told me that something had happened and that you didn’t think you’d be able to do your job anymore. This is what you mean, isn’t it? It’s not what they did. It’s why,” Elizabeth said, and Jason grimaced, hating the way it sounded now that she’d put it into the world.

“Sonny felt guilty then and now, in his eyes, it’s worse. He doesn’t think Carly really loves him, so he sees me as a threat to the family he’s decided he wants.” His fists curled a little more tightly in his pockets. “But he knows I’d never do anything to take that family. Not like he did. So instead of dealing with it, he’s going to make it my problem. So, no, I don’t really have a place here. Because it’s like I said last year, nothing’s changing if I stay. And nothing did.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s fair to say nothing changed,” Elizabeth said, and he made another face. “Because Carly’s decided she wants Sonny, too. I know that because she usually gets territorial and bitchy whenever she thinks Sonny is doing something nice for me. The only person who doesn’t seem to believe that is Sonny. I don’t think you leaving is going to fix that.” She tipped her head. “Maybe you needed a break from all of this, I wouldn’t blame you. But the only thing that’s going to fix this now is exposure. Sonny will just have to accept you forgave him for last year, that Carly’s decided his bank account is more attractive, and once he stops being an idiot, you guys will be okay.” She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, I guess. Unless you didn’t forgive him. Which then we’ve got another problem.” Elizabeth looked at him expectantly. “Did you forgive him? Or did you just stop being mad about it?”

“There’s a difference?” Jason asked skeptically.

“Well, sort of. I mean, in my head, yeah. Like, okay—” She raised her hands up, palms out. “When I forgive someone for something awful, it’s me saying you did this awful thing, I understand why you did this awful thing, and I am choosing to let go of my anger or my pain or whatever. But not being mad about it anymore is different. It’s — you did this shitty thing to me, I don’t know why you did or I don’t care why, but I’m done being mad about it. See? Different.”

“That…” Jason scratched the side of his eyebrow. “That actually makes sense.”

“See, maybe that’s why Sonny’s so weird. Because he did something that I think is pretty unforgivable. Not just sleeping with…your…” Elizabeth made a gesture with her hand. “Whatever. But he did it to make a point to you. It’d be one thing if they’d fallen in love and he couldn’t help himself—that came later, I guess. I think that’s easier to forgive. Eventually. But Sonny doesn’t think he can be forgiven, so he probably doesn’t believe you’re not mad anymore. If you’re not.”

“I’m not,” Jason assured her.

“Okay. So tell him you don’t forgive him. I bet that’ll actually cheer him up.”

Doubtful, but worth a try. “I shouldn’t have baited Lucky into punching me,” he told, eager to be done with the conversation about Sonny and Carly forever. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

“Oh, he was already mad at me, so—” Elizabeth shrugged. “You being around isn’t helping. He heard all those rumors from last year, and I told him the truth. But sometimes I think he doesn’t believe me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, following her back to the bench.

“Don’t be. I made my choices, and I have zero regrets. I mean that,” she said when he’d sat down and their eyes met. “There’s nothing I’d take back about last year. Other than getting a new door with a better lock.”

“With no window,” he added, and she grinned. “Emily mentioned something about a job. That’s why Lucky’s mad?”

“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose, her lips pouting out slightly. “Do we have to talk about that?”

“No. We don’t.”

She said nothing for long enough he actually thought she might drop the subject, but then she looked at him. “What did Emily  say?”

“That Chloe offered you a job, temporary. That’d you  have to travel. She said it was a good opportunity for you. And worried that she’d sent you a mixed message about taking it.” Jason lifted his brows. “Are you turning it down?”

“I…don’t know. Everyone seems to have a strong opinion about it. Lucky hates the idea,” Elizabeth said. “Penny and Gram think I should. And Emily seemed to agree with Lucky, though—that’s maybe not how she feels now?” she asked looking at him.

“I don’t want to put words in her mouth, but I know she said it would be good for you. Would it?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t want to be a waitress my whole life, and sometimes I’m scared I’ll wake up ten years from now and I’ll be running the place. I don’t think I’m talented enough to make art my career. Or that I have the confidence to do that. But this…” Elizabeth looked down at her hands. “I used to like fashion, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Most people don’t know it. It’s from Before. Before Valentine’s Day.” He tensed, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “Before, I had all the magazines — I remember being so obsessed with living in the same town as Brenda Barrett. Brenda Barrett, the Face of Deception, this gorgeous supermodel.” Elizabeth smiled, at the memory. “I could barely speak when Lucky introduced us the day of the wedding. And I stole Ruby’s invitation to get into the ceremony. I knew I’d never be a model, but I wanted all the clothes, and I’d make little mood boards, picking out all the best pieces from Fashion Week.”

Elizabeth rubbed her wrist. “I didn’t have the money to dress the way I wanted to, but I was always trying to be into the trends. The right brands, the right products—I was obsessed.” She bit her lip, looked at him. “You probably think that’s stupid.”

“Why would I think that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I—I haven’t done any of that,” she confessed. “Not since…I could barely get out of bed, and the only clothes I wanted to wear were the ones that would cover every inch of skin.” She looked at her arms. “At first, to cover the bruises. There were everywhere,” she murmured. “It hurt to move, to breathe. But then I just didn’t want anyone to look at me. To think of me as anything.”

He swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to say, how to  comfort her. How to make any of it go away.

“It took months before I would wear anything but flannels and sweaters, and I only really felt comfortable doing it when Lucky was around. I always felt safe with him,” she murmured, sliding her fingers along the sleeve of her shirt. “But then he was gone, and I had to figure out how to feel safe with myself. That night, at Jake’s—” She looked at him. “That was my first time doing anything reckless since that night. And of course, I got myself right back into trouble—”

“You didn’t do anything to get yourself in trouble the first time,” Jason bit out, and she looked at startled. He took a breath. “I’m sorry. Look, yeah, going to Jake’s, underage, that was reckless, and stupid,” he added, and she made a face. “But if you’d been of age, you had every right to be there, to have a drink, and a conversation. No man has a right to your attention. Even for buying you a drink.”

“I know that. Mostly. It’s just—it’s easier to blame myself,” Elizabeth admitted. “Than to face how much of life isn’t in your control. I couldn’t stop him from grabbing me, from doing that in a public place. I can’t believe I argued with you for helping me—” She shook her head. “Anyway. I never meant to go down that road. I just—when Chloe offered me the job, all I could think — I can have this back. This piece of me I hadn’t even thought of before she came in. This piece I’d forgotten was lost.”

She lifted her face to the sky. “I think if I told Lucky about it that way, he’d probably understand. He’d be on my side. I think so. But he’s not wrong. We’ve been through so much, and we lost each other for so long. Not just the year he was gone — but since he’s been back. It’s…” She bit her lip. “I feel guilty,” she admitted. “Because I got a miracle. I prayed and begged the universe to bring him back to me. And they did. But…” She looked at Jason. “But it’s not the same. I don’t think I love him the way I’m supposed to. And I don’t think he loves me.”

+40

Written in 70 minutes. The first scene took a ton of time, so the ending scene isn’t quite where I wanted to pause the conversation, but it’ll do.

Saturday, October 14, 2000

Hardy House: Living Room

“Gram?”

Elizabeth closed the door behind her, then went over to the desk at the base of the stairs where her grandmother had kept important documents Elizabeth had needed over the last few years. She flipped through some report cards, medical reports, the guardianship papers—

“Hello, darling. This is a surprise.”

Elizabeth turned, her folder still in her hand and smiled at her grandmother, accepting the kiss on the cheek and the one-armed hug. “Sorry to just drop in like this. I probably should have called.”

“Oh, you never have to call.” Audrey waved a hand. “You have a key, and it looks like you’re looking for something.” She nodded at the manila folder in Elizabeth’s hand. “What can I help you with?”

“Oh, I’m just—” Elizabeth grimaced. “I’m looking for my birth certificate. I’ve never needed a copy before, but I figured it’d be with all this stuff, right?”

Audrey pursed her lips. “Well, I must have had a copy at some point since you used it for driver’s license, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. You handed me a bunch of stuff, and I didn’t really look at it.” Elizabeth set the folder on the desk and looked at the papers inside more carefully. “They didn’t send it to you when I registered for school?”

Audrey slid on her reading glasses, and began looking in the folder as well. “Well, you remember, darling, you weren’t exactly supposed to be here with us, don’t you? Not that I’m sorry you came. You know that, but we didn’t have all the paperwork settled for a few weeks. Getting the guardianship in my name—I didn’t actually talk to the school. Your father handled it.”

“Dad? How?” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Weren’t they in Bosnia or whatever by then?”

“Oh, well—” Audrey hesitated. “I don’t remember the timeline, so give me a second. What do you need it for? Do you need to renew your license?”

“Not yet, but that’s probably another good reason to have it. I…might need my passport.” Elizabeth set down the paperwork. “Or might not. I don’t know. I haven’t decided. I don’t understand, Gram. How could you not have my birth certificate?”

“Well, I don’t have a lot of reasons to use it.” Audrey rifled through another drawer, and pulled out a slim notebook that Elizabeth recognized as one that would fit into the leather porfolio her grandmother used for her date book. “Ah, yes, Jeff and Carolyn came back the first week of September. Just long enough to talk to a real estate agent, and put the house on the market. It was handy since he was able to fax the school what we needed, and they signed the guardianship papers. Oh, the school must have it — didn’t you get your license through that program?”

“That’s right.” Elizabeth made a face. “I failed the road test twice, and nearly flunked Driver’s Ed because of that. I forgot about it. They must have used the birth certificate Dad sent them.” She scowled. “And how come they didn’t tell me they were coming back to the states? Why didn’t they come to see us?”

“I think they went to see Steven,” Audrey said carefully, and Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry, dear. They’re wonderful doctors, but they’ve never been particularly present as parents, have they?”

“No. Not to me anyway. Still surprised they didn’t come to see perfect Princess Sarah.” Elizabeth closed the file. “This is so annoying. Why wouldn’t Dad just send you the copies so you could have it? I mean, you finished raising me.”

“I don’t know. He was quite insistent on handling the paperwork in person.” Audrey closed the datebook.  “It’s not a problem, dear. You can just call the offices in Colorado and send for a new copy.” Audrey tipped her head. “That ought to give you time to decide whether or not you need a passport.”

“Chloe Morgan offered me a temporary job as her assistant,” Elizabeth told her. “I’d have to travel for it—but I might not take it,” she added hastily when Audrey’s expression lit up. “I’ve got obligations here, Gram—”

“Nothing that can’t be handled. You know Bobbie would hold your position at Kelly’s. You’re like family—” Audrey paused. “Is that the obligation? Lucky?”

Elizabeth sighed and wandered over to the sofa, flopping down and pulling a pillow towards her middle. “He pointed out that we just got back together, and we’ve had a really awful year. They just figured out what Helena did to him, and now I’m just leaving? It’s selfish, Gram.”

“Selfish? Darling. You’re still young. You have every right to go and out see the world. To explore it.”

“But you gave up all that for Gramps, didn’t you?” Elizabeth asked, and her grandmother sighed, sat in the armchair. “Do you ever regret that?”

“No. But I was older than you dear. I’d already gone out seen the world before I came to Port Charles and met Steve. And we didn’t make it,” Audrey pointed gently. “We divorced and I left for Vietnam.”

“You lost all that time with Gramps. Don’t you regret it? Don’t you wish you would have stayed and figured it out?” Elizabeth pushed.

“It’s a very tricky business, dear, to think about your life in those terms. Yes, I will aways regret that your grandfatherand I didn’t have more time together. That we didn’t have children to raise together, though he did a marvelous job with your uncle Tommy, and of course, we had your father for a while. And we enjoyed our grandchildren. Yes, sometimes I do wish I’d made other choices. But then I remember that Tommy doesn’t exist if I don’t leave. My marriage to his father was unhappy. Terribly so. And my marriage after that even more so. But I am who I am because of those choices, Elizabeth. And I was stronger, I think, because I had done so much on my own. I’d gone out in the world and been responsible for myself.”

Elizabeth picked at the cuticle of her thumbnail. “You think it’s a mistake to stay here because of Lucky.”

“If you’d like my honest opinion, Elizabeth, yes. I think it’s a mistake. I worried when you and Lucky planned to go to New York, but at least you were going somewhere and doing something with your life. You were planning on art school. You got accepted, and you turned it down. Which I understood. You were hurt after the fire, and you needed to be with us, your family. But sometimes—” Audrey paused, considering her words. “Sometimes I think I ought to have pushed you out of the nest. Encouraged you to go to school anyway. To start over. Because you’ve spent the majority of this year stuck in place, don’t you think? Working at Kelly’s, or L&B, these positions that don’t have a future or allow for you to build a life for yourself. You don’t spend a great deal of time painting. And you spent months being hurt over and over again by that boy. I do not care if they call it brainwashing. I do not care if he had an excuse. That does not change the damage he did to you.”

Elizabeth lifted her gaze to her grandmother, surprised to see Audrey’s eyes shimmering with tears. “Gram.”

“You came to me as a brash, reckless, impulsive girl, and then the world tried to break you into pieces. It did shatter you. And a weaker girl might have just stayed in those pieces, but you put yourself back together, bit by bit. And you gained back that fire that I so adored about you. You were blossoming, Elizabeth. And even that fire didn’t hold you back for long. I may not have approved of the choices you made,” Audrey added, and Elizabeth smiled faintly, understanding the reference to Jason. “But you made them for you. And now you’re telling me you’ve got this opportunity, and the only reason you’ll turn it down is because someone else convinced you it’d be selfish to take it.”  She lifted her brows. “Tell me the truth. When Chloe offered you the job, you instinctively said yes, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted. “But…Lucky pointed out how much time we wouldn’t spend together—” She tipped her head back, looked at the ceiling. “And he’s right. I’d barely be here, and he just went through this whole terrible thing—”

“He has a mother, a father, a sister, an aunt, a brother, and friends who care about him. He is not alone in this world, Elizabeth.”

Startled by her grandmother’s irritated tone, Elizabeth looked at her curiously. “You don’t like Lucky very much, do you?”

“I will always be grateful for the friendship and support he gave you after your attack. But, no, I don’t like him very much at all. I find him to be disrespectful, particularly to his mother who has had trauma of her own. I find him smug and arrogant. And that was before the fire.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked, absorbing this information. “You never said that before.”

“I was supporting you, and for all his faults, he generally treated you relatively well.” Audrey clasped her hands in her lap. “And, of course, when he came home, I was relieved because he was, I thought, a better choice than Jason Morgan.”

“Who also treated me relatively well,” Elizabeth said, echoing her grandmother’s words.

“And was responsible for a bomb in your studio, so perhaps we don’t try our luck, dear.” But Audrey’s lips twitched in a smile, and it made Elizabeth want to smile, too. “I will support whatever choice you make, Elizabeth, but I just…I would like you to be sure it’s a choice you’re making for you. And not because you feel obligated to take care of Lucky because he stood by you. It cost him nothing, Elizabeth, to be by your side. He didn’t give up trips or job opportunities. Ask yourself — would he sacrifice his dreams for you the same way?”

Spencer House: Living Room

“Ow—” Lucky jerked away from his mother when Laura tried to touch his chin for a better look at his eye. “Don’t, Mom. I told you, it was just something that happened outside the bar.” He avoided his brother’s knowing look and pulled out a chair at the dining table. “Can we just have dinner already?”

“Of course, but I’m allowed to ask questions when my son looks as if he’s had a fight. Think of the example you’re setting for your sister,” Laura said, gesturing at Lulu, who, at age eight, knew better than  to say anything. She just smirked at her brother, and reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes.

“Just tell her to do a better job of ducking,” Nikolas advised, passing his mother a serving dish with green beans. “And not to pick fights in the first place.”

“I didn’t pick—” Lucky made a face. “Okay, I threw the first punch. But they were an ass—a butthole,” he corrected when his mother flashed him a cold look.

“Let’s change the subject,” Laura suggested. “How is everyone doing? Emily and Elizabeth must have started classes by now—”

“Everyone is fine,” Lucky said, earning himself another look from Nikolas. “Let’s talk about something else. Lulu. How’s school?” he asked his sister, desperately.

Elm Street Pier

Elizabeth leaned back against the wooden bench, trying to pick out the stars in the sky above her through the haze of clouds rolling off the lake. The conversation with Penny that morning and with her grandmother that afternoon kept rolling around in her head. If it had just been Penny telling her to go, she’d have brushed it off. Penny was a work friend that didn’t know anything Elizabeth hadn’t decided to share.

But her grandmother? Well, that was an opinion Elizabeth did take seriously. Audrey hadn’t talked about the money or opportunities the job would bring—though both were substantial. Even a temporary paycheck from Chloe with all expense trips paid for the next six months could set Elizabeth up well enough she could pay full time when she came back, or a least spend less time waitressing.

But Audrey hadn’t talked about any of that — she’d honed right in on the problem. A job with a lot of traveling meant Elizabeth would be putting herself and her career first. And what did it say that everyone who heard about the job was immediately excited and happy for her —

Except Lucky.

She heard steps near the exit to the street, and looked toward Bannister’s Wharf as they grew closer and Jason stepped into view. He looked both ways, then saw her on the second sweep — and seemed to hesitate before coming closer.

“Uh, hey.  I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight.” His tone was the same as his steps — slow, cautious. As if she’d bite.

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked, angling her body so that she was facing him. “Are you—” The light from a pier fell on his face and she saw a cut on his upper cheek. “What happened? Did you get into a fight?”

Jason grimaced, touched his cheek. “I didn’t think—Emily didn’t say anything.”

“Well, Emily’s not always observant—” She got to her feet, came closer and could the bruise beginning to form. Then stopped. “You know, Lucky had some bruises this morning he didn’t want to talk about.” She bit her lip, folded her arms. “Did you run into each other or something?”

Jason’s hand fell to his side, and he grimaced. “Or something.”

“Well, that explains this morning.” Elizabeth sighed, sat back down, perching at the edge the bench, turned her attention to the horizon, where the lake and sky melted together. “What happened?”

“I don’t—I know what you want me to say.”

“The truth?” Elizabeth lifted her brows. “You and Lucky used to be friends. Why are you punching each other?”

Jason shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, squinted. “It wasn’t that serious. He punched me, I punched him, and that was the end of it. I left.”

“He punched you. He threw the first punch?” Elizabeth asked. “That’s—that can’t be right.”

Jason’s face tensed. “You don’t believe me?”

“What?” she blinked, looked at him with confusion. “No, I believe you, I just—” She dragged a hand through her hair. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. Lucky wouldn’t punch you. That’s not—it’s not his style. It…” She licked her lips. “It’s not who he was,” she said softly, then looked at him. “Am I crazy? It’s not right.”

Jason sat next to her, almost reluctantly. “He’s been through a lot this year, I guess.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, shook her head. “Yeah, he’s been through a lot.” She sighed, then looked at him again. “I’m sorry. That he started a fight.”

“It’s—” Jason winced. “I might have…he threw the first punch, but I might have…said something first.”

“You…what are you saying, that you baited him? You wanted him to hit you?” Elizabeth asked. Her concern about Lucky disappeared. “What’s going on that you wanted to start a fight?”

+36

Written in 58 minutes.

Saturday, October 14, 2000

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth counted her receipts, making a face at Penny Reyes, the waitress that had opened that morning and worked the breakfast rush with her. “You think it’s the lack of coffee that makes people such lousy tippers in the morning?”

“Seems like a skill issue. I did just fine,” Penny said, fisting a hand on her hip and fluttering her lashes. “I told you, Liz, you wanna make the real money, it’s not enough to just deliver the food. Especially with these dock workers. You gotta make them think they’ve got a chance with you.”

“I’m not going to prostitute myself for a few extra dollars,” Elizabeth grumbled, then sighed. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant—”

“It is, and you’re not wrong. You want to make the money, you gotta pretend to put out for the gross men, be competent and invisible for the women, and not ignore the teenagers who might toss you an extra buck if they’ve got it. And don’t forget pretending you think all babies are just so adorable and worth the vomit and sticky fingers.” Penny shuddered, then lifted a tub of dishes. “I wear many hats, girl, and pseudo-whore is just one of them.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, and Elizabeth sighed. She’d never been the best waitress, but she’d become basically competent in the last three years, but she was never going to love being in the business of pretending the customers were always right.

“You made more money when these dock guys thought you were doing the boss,” Penny reminded her, reappearing with an empty tub. She stored it under the counter and flashed her a saucy smile. “Everyone wanted to suck up to Jason Morgan’s girlfriend.”

“One of the few perks of playing the role,” Elizabeth admitted. “But those days are over.”

“Don’t sound so annoyed by that.”

She turned, frowning when Lucky appeared from the kitchen, having taken the back stairs from his room upstairs. “What?”

“Not being Jason Morgan’s girlfriend,” he bit out. He moved closer, into the dining room proper and Elizabeth’s mouth dropped at the bruise on the left side of his cheek, crawling up from his jaw, with a matching black eye.

“What happened to you?” she demanded, taking two steps towards him and halting when he put a hand up to stop her. “Lucky—”

“None of your damn business. Try not to sound so disappointed I’m not Jason.” He brushed past her, through the dining room and the few lingering diners and out the door.

“Uh, I thought you guys were back together,” Penny said, her eyes still on the entrance. “Trouble in paradise?”

“I—” Elizabeth shoved her shaking hands into her apron, took a deep breath to brace herself. “We’re—I mean, we were fine. But I got a…” she grimaced, returned to the counter and forced herself to resume wrapping utensils in napkins for the lunch rush due to begin in another hour. “I got a job offer yesterday. Chloe Morgan wants me to be her assistant while hers is on maternity list.”

Penny’s eyes grew wide. “Chloe Morgan the designer? Elizabeth Webber, why the hell didn’t you lead with that? That is amazing. I mean, I hate you because you know nothing about fashion, and you’re gonna to leave the rest of us whores behind, but that’s awesome—” She slapped Elizabeth’s shoulders playfully. “Are you gonna travel? Oh my God, do you get to do Fashion Week in Paris? Or Milan? Last year she did Tokyo—”

“I’m not taking the job.”

Penny stopped abruptly, then narrowed her eyes. “Okay, now I’m pissed for a new reason. Are you really turning down this opportunity for the manbaby who just bitched at you and stormed out? Please.”

“It’s—” She bit her lip. “It’s complicated. Lucky’s been through so much this year—”

“Yeah, being kidnapped is a bitch. Good thing he came home like six months ago. What, does he need you to hold his hand? Wipe his ass? Cut his food into little pieces and play airplane?”

“Penny.” Elizabeth’s tone had the other woman scowl at her. “Look, you and I are friendly, and I’ve always liked working with you. But you don’t actually know me. Or my problems—”

“I know you’re a dumb ass who’s passing up an amazing opportunity to get out of this greasy hellhole and actually do something with her life.” Penny slapped a hand against the counter. “Because, no, we’re not best friends. We just work together. But I’m gonna tell you the same thing I would tell a stranger on the street. You give up the world for a man, you better make sure he’s not going to leave you high and dry, with nothing to show for yourself. We’ve worked together since high school, Liz. You used to have dreams. You used to talk about art and the future and doodle stupid sketches on every available surface. But since that dumbass rolled back in your life, you’ve been all about him, and he’s just spent half his time telling you go screw his brother. Just an amazing choice, Liz. A plus. Gold star.”

Eli’s: Dining Room

Emily slid into the booth across from her brother with a breathless smile. “Thanks for waiting, I am so sorry I’m late. My class got out stupidly late—” she beamed up at the waitress and ordered a soda, then focused on Jason again. “And thanks for meeting me for lunch.”

“Surprised you didn’t want to go to Kelly’s.” Jason plucked up the menu, skimmed for any changes since he’d left in January. When it seemed mostly the same, he set it back down. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to avoid the subject of the conversation honestly,” Emily said. She bit her bottom lip. “Liz is working the lunch shift, and Lucky—” she saw her brother wince. “What? What’s that?”

“Nothing. Just—what’s wrong? If you had a fight with one of them, I don’t really think I’m the right person—”

“No, you are. Because you’re objective, and you’ll tell me if I’m being wrong. Or stupid. Or overthinking, or you’ll just say something super wise and amazing, and I’ll know exactly what to do, okay?”

“Okay. I think,” Jason added, his brows drawn together with a slight squint.

“Before the fire, Elizabeth and I were just getting to know each other, you know? Lucky was—is—my oldest friend, but we’d sort of drifted a little bit. Especially with Nikolas and Sarah, and well everything else that happened during that time,” she said, and shifted uncomfortably, dropping her eyes the scratched and scarred surface of the table. She didn’t want to remember the drugs. Didn’t want anyone else to remember it either.

“I went to Lucky for help with the blackmailing, and don’t make that face. Yes, I know that’s another time I should have just gone to you, but that’s not the point. I went to Lucky who was basically a matched pair with Liz back then. And Liz—she really came through for me. You know? Like, not in a way you’d ever expect someone who barely knew you. She put herself on the line. She does that better than anyone, you know that.”

“I do,” Jason acknowledged with a nod, and she knew he was thinking of the previous winter when Elizabeth had shredded her reputation into pieces protecting Jason after he’d been shot. “You’ve been there for her—”

“No. I haven’t. We’re getting to that part. After—after we thought Lucky was gone, Liz and I really bonded. You know? We leaned on each other, and other than that little scuffle we had over you because I was hurt she hadn’t come to me. Or that you hadn’t either, and I get why, so we’re not revisiting that. But it was a time she needed me to be there for her, and I was still mostly in my own world with the Juan of it all. God, what a waste of time he was. Don’t—” She jabbed a finger at her brother. “Don’t say a word.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I would have told anyone who listened Elizabeth was my best friend and that I would have her back the way she’s had mine. But I realized yesterday I’m a giant fraud.”

Jason frowned again, folded his arms the table and leaned forward slightly. “What?”

“Well, first, I didn’t have her back with you. And then since Lucky came home, I haven’t really been in her corner. I thought I was, because I figured the best thing for everyone is Liz and Lucky back together way they’re supposed to be. I mean, I figured the best world for everyone is one with them happy and in love the way they were. You’re making a face, so I know you don’t agree.”

“I—” Jason stopped, squinted again, clearly trying to measure his words carefully. “I think that it’s been hard to see the Lucky I used to know in who he is now. And I haven’t really…seen a lot that I…like.”

“That was incredibly diplomatic of you. And I agree. Lucky came home broken and damaged, and in my head, I thought — this is perfect. Lucky and Liz will find their way back to each other, because that’s how they fell in love. When she was broken and damaged, he healed her—Okay, now what’s that face?” Emily demanded when her brother looked liked he’d swallowed something sour. “That’s just objective fact—”

“First, Elizabeth wasn’t broken or damaged. And second, any healing she did it herself,” Jason said flatly. “I don’t like it when she gives him credit either, but I usually keep my mouth shut because it’s none of my business, but—”

“Oh. Oh.” Emily sat back, stricken. “Oh, I didn’t even hear myself when I was saying it, but you’re so right. No, you are. She was so strong when Tom Baker was holding us hostage. Not at first, at first, she, like, crawled into herself, you know, but then she was like, amazing. She saved us all. And she made so proud, and I wanted to be like her.” She reached for sugar packets from the container on the table, plucked out one out and ripped it open, dumping it into the napkin, then began to shred the pink packet into pieces.

“Em—”

“She’s the one that had to get up every day and figure it out, and keep going. Lucky helped, it’s stupid to say he didn’t. But he didn’t heal her. He didn’t do the fixing. He just helped her. And it’s stupid of me to think it’s the same thing. It’s not. Maybe it could have been,” Emily added. “Because Elizabeth had to let Lucky in to help her, and Lucky just kept shoving us all out. And told Liz over and over again that she just had to have patience, that our Lucky would come back, but she was so miserable, and she kept trying, but he hurt her every time he would seem like our Lucky, and then he’d be like, you should be with Nikolas—”

“Emily—”

“I promise, I’m almost done. We just needed the back story, because I needed to explain to you that I think every time I thought I was being Elizabeth’s friend, too, I was actually still just being Lucky’s friend. And that you can’t be best friends equally with people who are dating. Because sometimes someone is just wrong. And he’s wrong this time. Well, he’s not wrong, but he’s wrong for making it—you’re looking lost again, I’m sorry. I’m just thinking outloud—”

“It’s okay, Em. Just tell me what happened.”

“Liz got this job offer from Chloe yesterday. It’s a temporary position as her assistant, but Liz would get to travel and go see the world. Chloe’s got a collection this year and she’s going to be in London in January, and then she’s going to all the big fashion events – to Paris and Milan and Los Angeles and New York, and it would be so amazing for Elizabeth. She’d get to be part of something artistic, and she’d get to do all this amazing traveling and she loves to paint landscapes and natures, and think of all the awesome adventures she’d get to have.”

Jason exhaled slowly, then pressed his lips into a thin line. “Lucky doesn’t want her to go.”

“No. He doesn’t. He accused her of wanting to abandon him when they just finally got back together.” Emily’s throat tightened, and pressure began to build behind her eyes. “And when she told me, I…I agreed with him. I mean, I didn’t tell her not to take the job, but that Lucky was sort of right, but we should give him some time to think about it, and I’ve been so annoyed with myself ever since.”

“I’m not really sure what you need me for. It sounds like you’ve got it wrapped up—”

“Jason. I’m asking you to help me figure out how to fix this. How can I be both their friends when it’s something like this?” Before he could answer, the server returned with the orders.

“I can understand why Lucky would feel abandoned, because he’s not wrong, you know? He was brainwashed, and that just got fixed, and we just finished, you know—” She wiggled her fingers. “All of that. And it’s like, the second they get to breathe, Elizabeth wants to leave town. So I get it. But I also—” She pursed her lips. “I think about you and Robin. When she went to Yale. You guys made that work, don’t you think?”

When Jason grimaced slightly, Emily bit her lip again. “Sorry, I know you hate talking about all of that—”

“I don’t—I don’t hate it. I just don’t talk about it that much. Or want to.” Jason waited a beat. “But, okay, yeah. Yale was never an issue. I missed her. I wanted her here with me. But she came home when she could, and I knew how much this meant to her. I wanted her to have her dreams. The distance wasn’t our problem.”

“The distance isn’t the problem,” Emily repeated. “Okay, yes, that’s what I think I need to focus on. It’s not that Elizabeth wants to travel, because honestly, he’s making this worse than it has to be. Chloe isn’t even leaving the country until January, and I think it’s like, two, maybe three months. Plus, it’s temporary. Liz would be back, working at Kelly’s I guess, by May. Or something. Or not. Maybe Chloe loves her, maybe Liz finds out she loves it—that’s—I’m getting distracted.” She stopped, trying to organize her racing thoughts. “Elizabeth’s dreams used to matter to Lucky. But maybe that’s because he saw a way to be part of them. He was gonna move to New York for art school to be with her, remember? But he can’t see a way for this to include him.”

“Emily—”

“I think I need to tell her to go, right? I need to tell her to go. I need to tell her that Lucky’s being selfish. Her dreams don’t have to be his,” Emily continued. “If he loves her, he should want her to be the best possible version of herself. Like you and Robin. And Elizabeth stuck by him for all these months. Now it’s his turn. Okay, I’ve got it. Thank you. You were a big help.”

“If you say so.”

+35