June 20, 2021

This entry is part 7 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 63 minutes.


December 31, 1999

Corinthos-Morgan Warehouse: Office

“You know, if you’re going to do the books for this place,” Alexis Davis began amicably as he put down his briefcase on the rickety table, “you should get a room that doesn’t look like it could double as solitary confinement.”

Jason frowned at his lawyer. “Why? All I need is a table, a chair, and some lights.” He shook his head and went back to the ledgers. “Sonny has an office. People are always trying to make appointments.”

“Yeah, that’s how you stay legit,” Alexis began, then shook her head. Trying to make Jason even slightly more corporate to support the image of the warehouse as a legal business was never going to work. “I was able to get that search warrant quashed, by the way. It was clearly fishing.”

“Thanks.”

“But,” Alexis continued, “it would be simpler if you could alibi yourself for the night Moreno went missing. They can’t pinpoint an actual time of death, only that the body was in the harbor for a few weeks.” She tilted her head. “Elizabeth—”

Jason leaned back. “She can alibi me for a few hours,” he said slowly, “and I know that if she phrased her answer just right and they didn’t follow up, it would hold. The problem is she wasn’t with me the whole night.”

Alexis wrinkled her nose, then gingerly perched on the edge of a chair that looked like it had been dragged up from storage. “I was afraid of that.”

“There’s—” Jason grimaced. “There’s more. I got shot that night.” He stared at his lawyer, waiting for her to ask the question.

Alexis pursed her lips. “Okay.”

“Elizabeth found me the next morning. I stayed at her place while I was recovering, and Bobbie looked in on me.” Jason rolled the pencil between his fingers, feeling the ridges against his skin. “How much trouble would they be in if someone told the PCPD that?”

“Well,” Alexis drawled slowly, “that would depend. You’re not required seek to medical assistance. If Bobbie gave you medical help—” She paused. “Did it include any medication?”

“Not from her,” Jason said.

“But from someone,” Alexis continued. “Did Elizabeth give you medication? Does anyone know that?”

“I—” Jason frowned over the question. “I don’t know if anyone other than Sonny knew.” Did Carly? She might have. “Maybe.”

“That’s likely where the problem would come,” Alexis told him. “If anyone gave you pain pills and the PCPD could somehow prove it enough to file charges — they could be in trouble. Elizabeth could be charged with distribution of a narcotic. They wouldn’t even have to tie you to Moreno’s death,” she added. “If someone knew Elizabeth was doling out pain meds—” She stopped. “Maybe we should stop speaking in hypotheticals, Jason, and you tell me what’s going on. I’m your lawyer. I can be Elizabeth’s lawyer if she needs one, at least until there’s a conflict of interest—”

“Carly knows I was shot,” Jason said. “Sonny gave Elizabeth the medication I needed. I only took the antibiotics after the first day. But, yeah, she got me some pain meds. She flushed them when I refused to use them.”

Alexis perused that information for a long moment. “Carly knows you were shot, and from what you’ve asked, I imagine she also knew Bobbie and Elizabeth were involved. She might not make the connection with the drugs, Jason, but I assure you — if she goes to Taggert, he will. He’s already trying to tie Elizabeth to this anyway he can to force her statement.”

Jason sighed. And if Carly had the chance to throw Elizabeth under the bus— “Her statement would be enough to force Elizabeth on the record, wouldn’t it?”

“It might,” Alexis admitted. “Again, a gunshot wound around the time Moreno was presumed to be murdered—that doesn’t look great for you. It’s circumstantial, but it’s enough to pull Elizabeth and Bobbie in for questioning. If they can threaten either of them with accessory, particularly if they make this drug connection — I don’t know, Jason. It would depend on the evidence. I could probably get it dismissed eventually, but I wouldn’t be able to represent you and them.”

He’d been afraid of that. “Carly is threatening to turn them in,” he admitted. “If I don’t help her disappear with Michael and get out of the marriage.” He paused. “I told her I’d do that—but she wants me to go with her.”

“Of course she does,” Alexis muttered. “Jason—” She hesitated. “The rumors about you and Elizabeth—are they true?”

Jason frowned at her. “What? About the party? What Nikolas said? Why does that matter?”

“I’m certainly not interested in your love life,” Alexis said dryly, “nor am I helping you to circumvent the law. I just wanted to point out that you need to shake Carly’s credibility and prevent any situation where Elizabeth could be forced to testify against you. Taggert doesn’t want her. He wants you and Sonny.”

Jason squinted. “I don’t understand—”

“The entire town knows that Carly is a jealous shrew,” Alexis reminded him. “You make this look like it’s revenge for you moving on with another woman—it’ll take her down a notch. And if Elizabeth wasn’t in a position to testify against you because of, I don’t know, some sort of confidentiality—”

“Alexis—”

“There’s several types of confidentiality,” Alexis continued. “Priest, doctor, and, well—spousal.”

Jason just stared at her. “Alexis—”

“It’s tricky to assert it about actions,” Alexis continued, “but generally lawyers try to avoid calling spouses to the stand because if it’s not voluntary, then the spouse can sabotage the case by offering material that was confidential—”

“Just— Jason put up a hand. “Listen—”

“It would work both ways,” Alexis continued, “because then if you were asked if Elizabeth gave you narcotics, you could—”

“This is—” Jason took a deep breath. “That’s—” He paused. “That’s your best advice?”

“I’m not advising you to do anything that circumvents the legal execution of the law,” Alexis said blandly. “I’m merely stating the ways in which you could protect one another under current legislation. Now, there are some challenges to privilege, but it usually gets tied up in appeals and goes for years — it’s messy,” she repeated. “And it mostly gets avoided by just not asking the spouse to testify if they’re the only witness.”

“Uh, thanks—”

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything. Remember — I gave you zero advice. We just chatted about the law.” She got to her feet. “Right?”

“Right.” He watched Alexis go, then sat back in his chair, thinking over the conversation. He hadn’t thought twice about Elizabeth getting supplies from Sonny — he had only take two doses of the pain pills on the first day when it had been unbearable, but those kinds of charges—even the accusation—

He scrubbed his hands over his face. He’d have to find another way to deal with Carly.

Kelly’s: Diner

Elizabeth dumped a few coffee mugs into the dish tub and turned back to the counter, frowning when she saw her grandmother. “Gram.”

“Elizabeth,” Audrey said with a stiff nod. “I was hoping you would reconsider coming to the hotel with me tonight for the party.”

She opened her mouth, then saw Carly sauntering in and taking a seat at the counter. This was definitely the last thing she needed today. “Thanks, Gram, but I already have plans tonight.”

Audrey’s expression grew even more stony. “With Jason Morgan?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, ignoring Carly’s smirk. “Gram—”

“I certainly hope I won’t have to be attending your funeral,” her grandmother snapped then stormed out of the diner.

Fantastic. Her day was going just great. She turned her attention to Carly. “What can I get you?”

“It’s really what I can get for you,” Carly said coolly. “I’m here to do you a favor, Little Miss Muffet—”

“I doubt that—”

“You know Jason’s only playing around with you because of me,” Carly interrupted and Elizabeth closed her mouth. “Because I made a mistake—”

“Just the one?”

“He always comes back.” Carly leaned forward, her brown eyes dancing with glee and malice.  “You can ask Robin. I was his first, you know? After the accident. She wasn’t enough for him—”

“That’s—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “That’s none of my business—”

“It should be. He and I—we have chemistry. You know, where it counts. You’ve seen him, haven’t you? He’s gorgeous, sexy—” Carly closed her eyes and Elizabeth’s throat burned because she knew what the other woman was insinuating. “Mmm, the things he can do with those hands—”

“I have other customers—” Elizabeth started to turn away, but Carly’s hand snaked out and wrapped around Elizabeth’s forearm.

“He always comes back to me,” Carly repeated. “He likes to pretend he likes girls like you—fragile, soft—” She paused. “And damaged.”

Elizabeth flinched at that, and Carly’s lips curved into a smile. “That’s right. You know all about Robin and her sob story. He put up with that for as long as he could. I know about you.”

Her breath froze in her lungs and Elizabeth could only stare at her in stunned silence. “Everyone knows. I’m sorry for you,” Carly added. “Because you were young. Don’t think I’m not sympathetic—”

“Sympathetic—” Elizabeth choked out.

“Sympathetic enough to let you take a few rolls with Jason to get yourself back in the game.” Carly shrugged, released Elizabeth’s arm. “He’ll make you like sex again.”

Her stomach was rolling and bile had risen in her throat until she nearly gagged from it, but Carly just continued. “And you might even entertain him for a little while. At the end of the day, honey, you and I both know you’re not enough to keep him. He’ll get bored, just like he did with Robin, and then he’ll come back to me. He always does.”

Carly got to her feet and adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I told you, kid, this was me doing you a favor. Have your fun for as long as he’ll let you but don’t fool yourself. You’re not woman enough for Jason. You’re a damaged little girl looking for a hero.”

As soon as Carly had left the diner, Elizabeth went into the kitchen and straight into the walk in fridge to give herself a long moment. To take a deep breath. She had Emily’s words rolling in her mind to just talk to Jason, to ask him—

But she also knew that Carly’s venom was rooted in truth. Elizabeth was damaged. She was fragile. Not as much as she had been, that much was true. She could take care of herself — but in the ways that mattered — as a woman — there was a piece of Elizabeth that would always be broken. Shattered.

And she was terrified that Carly was right — that the piece of her soul Tom Baker had stolen that night could never be fixed.  That she would always be trapped in those bushes, her back against the cold, frozen dirt with someone looming over her—

“Lizzie?” DJ poked his head in. “You okay?”

She closed her eyes and sank to the ground, resting her head against the cool metal wall. “No,” she said softly.

“Let me call Tammy, kid.” The cook edged his way into the freezer and knelt in front of her. “We’ll get someone to cover your shift—”

“Okay.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’ll—I’ll do it.”

She had another call to make.

Elm Street Pier

Jason was just crossing to the stairs to lead him to Kelly’s for some dinner when he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. He tugged it out and smiled when he saw Elizabeth’s name on the screen. Maybe she was getting done early—

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Her voice sounded a bit strange—almost flat and empty. “I’m not feeling well, so I’m going home early.”

Jason frowned. “I’ll be right there. We can get your stuff tomorrow—”

“No, I—” She cleared her throat. “No, I—I, um, talked to Emily. I’m going to stay with her. I just—I’m sorry.”

“Elizabeth, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I mean, except for—I think I’m getting a cold—”

“Then let me—” He could take care of her, the way she’d done for him. “I’ll come right now—”

“Jason, I—look, I’m sorry. Please. I just—I have to go.” The line went dead, and Jason found himself staring at the silent phone, unsure what had happened. Things had been fine that morning. For both of them—

He grimaced. If Carly had gone after him—why wouldn’t she confront Elizabeth? Damn it.

Studio

Wearily, Elizabeth pushed open her door, then slid over the bolt to lock it behind her. She’d felt terrible lying to Jason about where she was spending the night. She reminded herself that she’d go to Emily’s in the morning.

She just didn’t want to see anyone or anything right now. She wanted to sit with herself in the dark—

Elizabeth dragged her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. It was stupid to let Carly into her head, stupid to let her words sink into her bones.

Stupid to think that Carly wasn’t right.

The phone rang, and Elizabeth jumped from the sound. She turned to look at her landline, wondering if it was Jason. Or maybe it was someone else—

She bit her lip, considered letting the machine pick up but then reached for it. If it was Jason, she almost wanted him to catch her in the lie. To come over.

Elizabeth lifted the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”

“Miss Webber, I’m  glad I caught you. This is Joseph Sorel.”

Her heart frozen for a moment, then began to beat wildly in her chest. “What—”

“I regret to tell you that this will be the last time we speak. I hope you’ve made peace with yourself.”

“What the  hell—” Elizabeth began, then she heard something slam against her door. She rushed towards it, flipped back the bolt, then tried to twist the knob.

“It won’t open. Now, go check under the table.”

Elizabeth obeyed, kneeling down to peer underneath her artist’s table—then her mouth dried up.

“Have you found it yet? You’re trapped, my dear, and unless you do exactly as I say, you won’t be able to see the year 2000. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she breathed, staring at the 5:00 numbers blinking in red. Then, in horrors, they stopped blinking, then began to change. 4:59. 4:58.

Oh, God. There was a bomb in her studio.

June 18, 2021

This entry is part 1 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Quick Notes: Set in Fall 2016, about three years after the last story ended. Most of the intervening three years will be established in the first few parts. If you haven’t reread the first two stories in a bit, here are the highlights: Jason & Elizabeth reunited in 2012 after she helped him expose Tea’s son was actually Sam’s son. Sam and Jason have gone their separate ways, while Jason & Elizabeth moved in together. They learned Jake was alive and being held in Greece by Helena Cassadine, so Laura, Jason & Elizabeth headed across the ocean with Spinelli & Sonny to get their son back. It got complicated after that as Patrick, Robert and Anna joined to rescue Robin, Nikolas faked his death, Lucky stabbed Elizabeth — but Elizabeth and Jason were reunited with their son and returned home to Port Charles where they got engaged.

*deep breath* Okay. Got it? Great. Let’s go.


Written in 53 minutes. Did a quick readthrough and spell check. Hopefully caught most of the typos.


September 2016

General Hospital: Employee Locker Room

Elizabeth Morgan took a deep breath and exited the bathroom, stopping short when she saw the room was no longer empty. “Oh, hey. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Robin Scorpio-Drake turned as she opened her locker. “Sorry, did I surprise you? I thought you were done working these night shifts.” She checked her watch. “It’s almost five—”

“I switched with Felix. He had a date.” Elizabeth sat on the bench. “You’re early for yours.”

“Yeah, I have a ton of paperwork to go over, and then Patrick and I have an appointment later with Britt.” Robin closed her locker. “We’re going to start IVF. I mean, today. It’s my first procedure.”

“IVF?” Elizabeth repeated. “Oh, that’s amazing! I didn’t know you were thinking about having another baby.”

“Well, we weren’t but then Patrick found a new gray hair and we both realized—I mean, we always wanted more,” Robin clarified. “But…things kept getting in the way.”

Things like Lisa Niles and Cassadines. Elizabeth nodded. “I know what you mean.”

“Anyway, I know Patrick was probably going to tell you at some point, but we were keeping it to ourselves for a bit. I mean, we’re kind of at the older end, and even though my viral load is nonexistent, we thought IVF would be the safest and quickest—” Robin paused. “We’re not really telling anyone except family.”

“No, I completely—actually—” Elizabeth laughed slightly as she reached into her scrubs pocket and took out a white stick. “That’s why I’m in here.”

“Oh my God! Are you—”

“I don’t know. Two more minutes.” Elizabeth exhaled on a rush of air. “We’ve been trying for a year,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve never had trouble getting pregnant before but I’m thirty-six—and, well—”

“Jason’s forty-two. I know. It feels weird to think of us as getting old,” Robin admitted. “I keep waiting to feel like an adult. You know?”

“I know! I keep looking around for the adult in charge, and it’s usually me.” Elizabeth shuddered. “It’s not that I don’t like getting older, I just thought I’d feel older. Most of the time, I don’t—but this last year—every month—” She rubbed her heart. “If I’m not pregnant this time, I think we might give up.”

“Hey…” Robin touched her shoulder. “You could see doctors—”

“We could. And we could do what you’re doing with fertility treatments—but I just—maybe it’s not meant to be. I just…the boys are getting older, and I’m not ready to be done being a mom. And Jason hasn’t really had a lot of time to be a dad. I know they’ll always be our babies—”

“I get it. I missed so much of Emma’s first year, and then even more time with her with the Cassadines and Africa. You and Jason haven’t been able to do this together from the beginning. Patrick and I are looking forward to doing everything together. No separations. No postpartum because I’ll be on top of it this time—” Robin smiled at her. “And if you’re pregnant, hopefully I will be soon, too. So—” She nodded at the stick. “You ready?”

Spencer House: Living Room

“Aiden!” Laura Spencer’s voice rose an octave as she repeated her youngest grandson’s name for the third time. “Aiden, it’s time to go!”

“One more minute!”

“He said that five minutes ago,” Laura told Jason Morgan who just shrugged. “I told him it was time to go, that you were on your way, but—”

“Video games,” Jason said. He checked the clock over her mantel. “I’ll go get him if he’s not done in another couple of minutes. Thanks for grabbing him after school.”

“I love spending time with my babies,” Laura said, wincing as she heard Cameron and Spencer arguing from upstairs. “Sometimes they even like each other.” She paused as she picked up one of the toys under the coffee table. “Elizabeth told me that the papers were coming in this week?”

“Alexis got the word yesterday that it was finalized.” Jason shifted. “I’m sorry, Laura. I know you were hoping—”

“That Lucky would swoop in at the last minute like his old self, and stop the adoption.” Laura offered a weak smile. “Three years, you’d think I’d give up on that. The last Luke heard, Lucky was still with Nikolas tracking Mikkos. I don’t think either of my sons are coming back any time soon, Jason. Aiden deserves a full-time dad, and he’s got that.”

“I don’t blame you for wanting it to be Lucky,” Jason said, even though he’d be happy to never see the little bastard again. The last time he’d been in a room with Elizabeth’s ex-husband and Aiden’s biological father, Lucky had stabbed Elizabeth, aiming for Jason. The injury had nearly killed Elizabeth.

“And I can’t blame you for being glad Lucky is far away with apparently zero interest in his own son.” Laura’s lips thinned. “Every time I think I’ve come to terms with it—” She took a deep breath. “I think of my little boy. My sweet boy who idolized family. Helena killed that boy a long time ago.” She paused. “I imagine you changed Aiden’s last name.”

“We did,” Jason said, with a bit of regret. “Aiden wanted to be like the rest of us. We talked about Elizabeth staying Webber when we got married, having the boys share that name—”

“No, I know. Elizabeth and I talked about it, too. The Webber name never meant a lot to her. Not the way it did to me once. Her parents have never made her feel like she was part of that family. I’m glad she and the boys have you.”

“They have you, too,” Jason reassured her. “And maybe Nikolas will give up hunting down Mikkos and come back.” Lucky could stay in Siberia for all he cared, but he’d always liked and respected Laura. She’d never once treated Cameron or Jake like they weren’t her grandchildren.

“Maybe.” But Laura didn’t believe that anymore than Jason did. She looked up the stairs again. “Aiden! I’m only going to say this—”

“Ugh, why doesn’t Cameron have to go?” Aiden demanded as the six-year-old stomped down the stairs. “How come I’m the baby?”

“Because you were born last and can’t walk home by yourself,” Jason said as his son reached the bottom of the stairs.

“What if you tell Mom, though?” Aiden asked. He sat on the bottom step and fought with his shoelaces. “If you tell Mom I can walk home—”

“I agree with Mom,” Jason told him. He knelt down and helped guide Aiden’s tiny fingers so that he could tie his own shoes. “Cam knows the rules, and when you’re fourteen, you’ll get more freedom.”

“But that’s forever away, Dad!” Aiden huffed. “Grandma, tell him I’m grown up.”

“Not a chance,” Laura said. “If I had my way, I’ll wrap all my babies in cotton and never let you out.”

Aiden’s eyes widened in horror and he looked at Jason. “You’re not going to do that, are you?”

“No, but I’m tempted to.” Jason pulled Aiden to his feet. “Come on, since your brothers are both out with friends, you get to pick what we have for dinner.”

“Haha, suckers!” Aiden bounced over to grab his jacket and his bag. “Adios, Grandma!”

“Bribery,” Laura said with a smile as she followed Jason to the door. They both watched Aiden dart down the front steps to the driveway where Jason’s SUV was parked. “I don’t resent you adopting him, Jason. Or his taking your name and calling you Dad. Please don’t think that—”

“I don’t,” Jason assured her. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry it had to be this way—”

“Don’t lie to make me feel better,” Laura said gently. “This is the best outcome for you and Elizabeth. And the boys. They have happiness, stability, and everything I ever wanted for them.” She patted his arm. “Give Elizabeth my love, and I’ll ship Cameron home in about an hour.”

Port Charles Police Department: Commissioner’s Office

Jordan Ashford strode into the office and went behind her desk, two of her detectives taking the chairs in front. “Did we hear back from DOC on the Hornsby transfer?”

“Yeah,” Dante Falconieri assured her. “He’s cooling his heels in protective custody.”

“The ADA said it might be a few months before we get to trial. Maybe longer,” Nathan West offered. “They gotta find a special prosecutor since our current DA—”

“Is an accused serial killer.” Jordan made a face and sat down. “Well, at least that’s done. I have a ton of paperwork to get through—” She sighed at the pile on the her desk. “So many things fell through the cracks—”

“Bound to happen—”

“There’s a bunch of new parolees and prisoners on work-release,” Jordan told Dante. She unearthed a file. “It came in two weeks ago, but I put it aside. Go through the cases, see if there’s anyone we need to keep our eyes on.”

“I don’t think there were any high profile guys or the media would have picked it up,” Dante assured her, but he scanned the list of names in the folder. “Yeah, none of these are ringing a bell. Mostly some petty crimes—” He frowned. “One felony release.”

“Who is it?” Jordan asked. She turned to her keyboard. “I’ll check the records.”

“Pled guilty to extortion and attempted kidnapping. Served ten years—out on parole as of last week,” Dante said. “Thomas Baker.”

“I got a few Thomas Bakers,” Jordan said as she perused the list. “Ah—here it is.” She tapped a few keys. “Baker was arrested October 1998, accused of holding Emily Quartermaine and Elizabeth Webber hostage in a photo studio.” She looked at Dante. “You know Elizabeth, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but this was 1998,” Dante reminded her. “I didn’t move here for another decade, and I never met Emily. What about the extortion?”

“Blackmail photos,” Jordan murmured. “There’s a note on this file to contact the arresting officer.” She frowned. “Marcus Taggert. This was his case.”

“Maybe he wanted to warn Elizabeth and Emily that Baker was gonna be out,” Nathan suggested. “He didn’t plead to a violent crime. Attempted kidnapping doesn’t rate a contact from the parole board.”

“It’s been almost twenty years,” Jordan pointed out. “Do you think Elizabeth would still care?”

“Doesn’t hurt to call Taggert and get his read,” Nathan said. “You worked with him, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, we were partners at the DEA and he’s still around to see his daughter.” Jordan reached for her phone and went through her contacts. “Let’s find out where Baker is. He might be holding a grudge and might not realize Elizabeth got herself married to the mob while he was in Pentonville.”

June 16, 2021

This entry is part 6 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 53 minutes. Did a spellcheck but did not read for typos.


December 31, 1999

Studio: Hallway

Elizabeth could really get used to starting her day like this, she thought as she tugged open her studio door and beamed at Jason framed in the doorway, clad in his leather jacket and dark blue jeans. He was so pretty—

“Good morning,” he murmured, then leaned down to kiss her. It might have been meant to be a brief greeting, a brush of their mouths against one another, but Elizabeth decided that she was going to go all in for as long as this lasted—

She wrapped her arms around her neck and pressed her body against his, trying out the move he’d used on her day before—where she gently nibbled at his bottom lip and he opened his mouth—oh, it was just as good as when he’d done it—

Surprised, Jason stumbled back just a step, leaning against the door jamb, tightening his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet so that their bodies lined up just right—

“Don’t you have to work?” he managed some time later, lifting his head.

“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose and released her grip, then was pleasantly surprised when he still held her close. “I just missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Jason said, dipping down to kiss her again. It took maybe another minute before she finally pulled back and he set her back on her feet.

“I gotta go or Tammy’s going to make stay until midnight.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why she’s bothering to stay open — no one is going to Kelly’s on New Year’s Eve.”

“I would if you were working,” Jason said with a grin as she grabbed her purse and locked the door. He narrowed his eyes, some of the amusement fading. “I don’t like that lock.”

“I know. You said so a thousand times when you were staying here.” She shrugged as they started down the hallway. “I asked the landlord and he told me I could change it, but I’d have to pay for it.”

Jason opened his mouth and she stabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare offer—”

“I wasn’t—” he stopped. “Okay, I was, but even if this were a safer area—”

“Ugh, you sound like Gram—”

“It’s different now,” he finished and she frowned at him. “Because people know. About us, I mean.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that angle. She looked back at her door, accepting for the first time that it wasn’t just her lock that wasn’t so great—it was also the door itself with the window. Wasn’t that how Nikolas—and Carly—had known he was there? And her grandmother—

“Okay. You can do what you want to the lock.” Before he could open his mouth. “And the door,” she added.

“Thanks.” He pushed open the door to the alleyway, scowling at the condition that, too. Was there anything in the studio he didn’t hate, she wondered idly?  “I might not be able to get it done for a day or two. The holidays, I mean.”

“That’s okay. I wasn’t going to be able to do anything until I got my tax refund in a few months.” She took the helmet he offered—but then he didn’t release his grip. “What?”

“The security on the whole building is bad,” he told her because apparently he’d sensed his opening.

“Well, you get what you pay for,” she quipped, uncomfortable. “I mean, look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t planning to live here when I rented the place, you know? I was just gonna use it to paint. But it’s cheap and close to work—”

“Yeah, I just—” Jason paused. “Would you stay at my place until I get the lock replaced?” he asked.

“At your—” Her mouth dried up. In the penthouse? Across from Sonny? What did that mean? At his place? What did stay mean? Did it mean the couch or guest room—

“It’s my fault you’re living here,” he continued, obviously oblivious to full on anxiety attack she was going through in her head. “I just want you to be safe.”

“Well, it’s my grandmother’s for being unreasonable,” Elizabeth managed. She cleared her throat. Hadn’t she told herself she’d be all in? She knew Jason was wildly out of her league, especially in experience. How long would he put up with her being a stupid, scared kid?

“Yeah, that’s fine,'” she finished. “Um, we should get going before I’m late.”

Kelly’s: Kitchen

Halfway through her shift, she took a tub of dishes back to the sink, still obsessing over what Jason’s offer had meant.

Would he expect her to share the same room with him? Why wouldn’t he? She’d slept less than a foot from him when he’d been at the studio—sharing a bed was basically the same thing—

And if they were sharing a bed, did that mean Jason thought they’d have sex? Was she ready for that? What if she wasn’t? And what did it even mean to be ready? How did you know you were ready? Was there a memo or like an alert signal from your brain—

“Lizzie, you good?”

Elizabeth broke out of the new spiral of anxiety to blink at DJ staring at her quizzically, the spatula in his hand. “What?”

“You’ve been staring at nothing for a minute. You good?”

“Yes. Yeah. Um, I’m great.” She forced a smile. She was good. She was absolutely perfect. She had managed to snag the attention of a kind, decent guy who knew how to listen and filled out a pair of jeans better than anyone else in the universe—

She squared her shoulders. “I’m fine,” she repeated.  With that mantra firmly affixed, she left the kitchen, then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Emily sitting at the counter.

“Hey.” Emily offered her a weak smile. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk or yell?” Elizabeth said, walking behind the counter. She reached for the kettle of boiling water and filled Emily’s cup. She set Emily’s preferred tea bags down next to it. “The last time—”

“The last time I was still kind of, um, adjusting. I didn’t—I don’t know—I wasn’t ready to hear you and my brother were a thing.” Emily tossed some sugar into her tea, then stared at the steeping liquid. “I guess I always figured you’d tell me when you were ready to move on. Or, um, you know, take that step.”

“What step—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

“You know. Nikolas said you were sleeping together, and I know you were, like, scared of that—”

Elizabeth hesitated. “Does that still bother you? The idea of me and Jason—”

“No, no, once I calmed down and, like, thought about it, it makes sense, you know?” Emily brightened. “You’re better than Carly, of course. And I knew Jason listened to you. I knew you were friends. I just didn’t realize you were friends.

“Oh, well, that part is new. Nikolas—he just—he was irritating me,” Elizabeth admitted. “And you know how I am. I kind of—I lied to him. Jason and I—it’s happening, but that, uh, hasn’t happened.”

“Oh. Okay. I mean, you were right. It’s not my business, but I just—” Emily paused. “I don’t know. I guess it wasn’t so much I was thinking about wanting to know your sex life,” she continued, her cheeks flaming, “but that I wanted to know you were okay. And, like, being able to do that—it means you’re okay. Not that you weren’t okay—”

“I know what you mean.” And because Elizabeth could see the concern and hope in Emily’s eyes, she sighed. “For a long time, even with Lucky, I didn’t think I could. I’m still—” She twisted a napkin. “I’m still not sure if I can. Or if I’m ready to find out.”

“Oh.” Emily furrowed her brow. “Well, that’s okay, too. You said it was new with Jason, and, like, if it can’t be Lucky who would have been good, I mean—shoot—” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “This is ridiculous. We are adults,” she told Elizabeth. “We can talk about sex.”

“Sure.”

“I wish Lucky was alive,” Emily continued, “and we both know he would have taken care of you and been as patient as you need him to be. But since it can’t be him—” She took a deep breath. “Oh man, sometimes it just hits me, you know?”

“Yeah. It still hits me, too, Em. I wish he could be here. Sometimes I still think he’ll walk through the door. But I can’t—”

“You can’t put your life on hold. And it has been almost a year,” Emily continued. “Lucky would be the first person to tell you that he wanted to you be happy. He’d never want you to mope around. He liked Jason, too. Plus, I know Jason will be just as patient as you need him to be. I overheard Robin talking to Brenda how kind he was to her—she had a lot of anxiety with everything because of the HIV.”

Elizabeth hadn’t thought about any of that. “I’ve been kind of worried about it,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. Because I do. He’s—well, I know he’s your brother—”

“I can be objective,” Emily assured her. “You think he’s hot. He is.”

“And I’m not thinking about what—I’m not thinking about anything else when he kisses me,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’m just—I’m scared that I’ll have a flash or I’ll freak out, and it’ll mess things up.”

“You should talk to him. You know he’d understand.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Why wouldn’t he?”

And of course, once Emily said that, Elizabeth knew she was right. She was probably the one putting all the pressure onto things. Jason would never want her to do anything she wasn’t ready for.

“Thanks, Em. I’m glad you’re with me on this.”

“Well, like I said, I’m ready for him to be done with Carly, and you’re my favorite person in the world. Why wouldn’t I want the best for my brother?” Emily beamed at her. “Thank you for not being Carly.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

Elm Street Pier

Jason scowled when he saw Carly waiting for him on the bench when he stepped up from Bannister’s Wharf.

“Don’t walk away—” Carly called as he turned to do exactly that. “You have to listen to me—”

“There’s nothing I need from you—”

“You sure about that?”

And there was something in her tone that made the hair on his neck stand up. Jason slowly turned to face the blonde and walked towards her. “Fine. Say what you want to say, and then I’m going.”

“We’ll see about that.” Carly folded her arms. “I was at my mother’s and Taggert was complaining to her about you and the little brat—”

“I’m going—”

“I wouldn’t if you want to keep the angel out of the slammer.”

His shoulders tensed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know she’s your alibi for the night Moreno died,” Carly retorted. “I know everyone thinks the two of you were shacked up in her crappy studio. I wonder if Taggert would be interested in finding out you were recovering from a gun shot wound.” She tapped her chin. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, if Elizabeth helped hide you while you recovered, that makes her part of it right? What’s the word—”

Jason stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “You’re not going to say thing. Bobbie was there—”

“Don’t you think that would give me more credibility?” Carly said coolly. “I must be telling the truth if I’m willing to incriminate my own mother. What will Taggert say if I told him Elizabeth was hiding you and my mother helped you?”

“Bobbie could lose her license—”

“She could. It would be a shame,” Carly continued. “She’s a great nurse, and the hospital is lucky to have her—”

“What do you want?” Jason bit out. Carly was right — if she told the PCPD that Bobbie was involved, they’d drag Bobbie in for questioning. Elizabeth’s grandmother might think more closely about how Jason had looked when she’d seen him—Nikolas would probably back all of it up—

“I need to get out of town,” Carly said. “I need to get out of my marriage. You’re going to take me and Michael, and we’re going to leave.”

“I’ll get you out,” he told her. “But I’m not going with you—”

“No, that’s the deal. You go with us.” She sauntered towards him, softening her eyes. “Michael misses you. We both miss you—”

“I’m not yours to miss, and he’s not—” Saying the words still twisted at him. “Michael’s not my son. I’m not leaving town, Carly—”

“You’re staying for that simpering little nothing—”

“I’m not leaving town with you,” Jason retorted. “I wouldn’t go to the end of the block with you. Not ever again.”

“You’re never going to forgive me—”

“I’ve put up with a lot from you,” he cut in sharply. “More than I should have. You had me arrested last year, Carly. You treated Robin like garbage. I let that go—”

“You loved me—you said you did!”

“I was wrong. You married my brother and had me arrested for kidnapping,” he repeated. “And then you slept with my best friend because you saw me with someone else? And if that wasn’t enough—you’re threatening Bobbie and Elizabeth with arrests for saving my life—”

Carly pressed her lips together. “I did all of that because I’m miserable! Okay? I just—you need to help me, Jason. Please. Please. I love you. You know you love me. Give me one more chance—”

“You’ve had all the chances. Don’t go after Bobbie or Elizabeth. You’ll regret it.”

He left her standing on the pier, his hands nearly shaking with rage—and worry. If the only way to get Carly to back off from her threats was to leave town with her—

What the hell was he going to do?

Carly scowled after him, then stalked off in the opposite direction,  the heels of her boots clacking against the wooden pier. When she’d disappeared,  a man stepped out from a corner at the top of the stairs. He took out his cell phone and pressed one of the speed dials. “Yeah? Tony—get me Sorel. No, following the dumb blonde finally paid off. I got something he might be interested in.”

May 9, 2021

This entry is part 16 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 69 minutes. Sorry, I wanted to get the final Liason scene just right. No time for spell check or typos.


PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac knew—from the battle light in Diane Miller’s eyes as the redheaded lawyer sauntered into his office the morning after Elizabeth had disappeared from lock-up—he knew that whatever papers she pulled out of her briefcase would not be good for him.

“Ms. Miller—”

“This—” Diane set the papers down. “This is a proposed order from the district attorney dropping all charges against Elizabeth Webber—her legal name,” she added coolly, “as she has not filed paperwork to change it.”

“We’re still looking for her—”

“If Baldwin declines to drop the charges, this—” She set down a thicker packet of paper next to the first pile. “This will be filed directly with the court, suing the PCPD for negligence and alleging corruption in allowing my client to be dragged and kidnapped from your custody, leading to Luis Alcazar putting a bullet in her shoulder and shoving her, bound and gagged, into Lake Ontario.”

Mac shoved to his feet, his stomach dropping as her words sank in. “What—” Elizabeth, shot and nearly drowned? “How—”

“He tried to trade her for Brenda Barrett. You get Ms. Barrett’s statement and an interview with Ms. Webber only when the charges are dropped.”

Mac hesitated. “She’s alive then.”

“No thanks to you and the others. You knew she didn’t do this, and you arrested her anyway. If you want to close your case in the Smith murder, you’ll make sure Baldwin drops these charges. Or I will sue you and Scott personally as well the city and the department for putting my client in danger.”

Diane arched her brow when Mac just stared at her. “What will it be, Commissioner?”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“What are you doing out of bed?” Carly demanded as she stalked down the stairs, finding Jason standing by the desk with Brenda and Sonny. “You nearly drowned—”

Jason frowned at his best friend. “Because I was tired. I slept.”

“For five minutes?”

“Until a half hour ago. Six hours is enough for me,” he told her patiently. “I’m fine—”

“You—”

“-should be checking on Elizabeth,” Brenda interrupted smoothly. “You know, staying with her to make sure she’s recovering. The girl dragged herself out with an infection and fever.”

Carly narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips, and took a long look at her nemesis before looking back at Jason. “Okay. Yeah. That. And you do that by being at home, resting.”

“If the two of you are done,” Sonny said dryly, “we’re waiting on Diane to tell us how things went at the PCPD—”

“Oh, and Jason can’t find that out, laying down and taking it easy?” Carly poked Sonny in the chest. “No. You can go tell him—”

Sonny scowled, but before he could respond, the phone on his desk rang. He snatched it up. “Yeah? Yeah. Okay. Thanks. Thanks. Yeah, worth every penny.”

“Well?” Brenda demanded when Sonny had hung up. He ignored the women and turned his atttention to Jason.

“Mac got Scott to sign off on it. Charges are dropped. It’s over,” he added. “Zander’s murder will probably go down as a cold case, but unofficially, Mac said he’s willing to accept Alcazar was behind it.”

“That’s a relief,” Brenda said. “Luis is dead, you and Elizabeth are off the hook,” she said to Jason. “So if one of the guards can help me take my stuff back to the cottage, I’ll figure out what’s next.” Her lips twisted. “With what time is left.”

“You keep talking about dying,” Carly said with a roll of her eyes, “but you barely even seem sick. How do we know you’re not just making this up?”

Sonny growled. “Carly!”

“Why would I—” Brenda stared at the blonde virago, her retort ending abruptly. “I never opened the results.”

“Brenda?” Jason asked, putting a hand on her shoulders as she pressed her hands to her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Before the accident,” she said softly. “I never had a chance to open them. Jax said he threw them out. But I had them done again. With Luis. In the beginning. Before—” She closed her eyes. “Before I realized who he was.”

“You think he was lying?” Sonny asked.

“Well, of course he was,” Carly said, her patience at its absolute end. “Look what he went through to make sure Brenda never had any choices. He came after you and Jax. He tried to kill Elizabeth and Jason so he could get to her—he stalked her—you’ve been taking his word for it all this time?” she demanded, disgusted. “How stupid are you?”

“Carly—” Jason began.

“No-no-” Brenda shook her head, her voice thick. “No. Don’t—she’s right. God, she’s absolutely right.”

“Of course I am. Go take another stupid test with a reputable doctor. Honestly.” Carly stomped off towards the stairs. “Do I have to do everything around here?”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason left Sonny to deal with Brenda and getting her back to the cottage, still shaking his head over Carly and her bold, almost offensive ways of getting things done. It hadn’t occured to him that Brenda would have learned about her illness through Alcazar, but trust Carly to see right through it.

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked as Jason closed the door behind him. She struggled to sit up, wincing as she accentally put pressure on her shoulder. He hurried over to help her sit up further, then felt her forehead.

“Fever still gone,” he said. “But you should be sleeping—”

“I’ve been sleeping forever. Isn’t that what you said when you got dressed? Only one of us spent half the night swimming in the lake,” she muttered, but laid back against the pillows. Her skin was still too pale, but he had to admit that she was doing better.

“I took a long swim. You were shot and dumped in the lake—”

“Yeah, I think I liked the first kidnapping better,” she decided.

“You’re not getting a third to help you decide.”

Elizabeth cracked open her eye, one irritated slit of blue glaring at him. “You’re not going to try anything stupid like pushing me away again, are you? I will soak you if you try to divorce me. I’ll take everything.”

He gently smoothed her hair off her forehead, tucking a piece behind her ear. “I’d give it all to you if it meant you were safe,” he admitted. “But no,” he added when she growled. “No. We settled that in Vegas. You’re going to have to doing the walking.”

“Okay. Well, at least we don’t have to fight that.” She forced her eyes open. “Did you hear from Diane or should I make sure I’m wearing pants in case I get hauled back to jail?”

“Charges are dropped. You—and I—are good. They didn’t want the lawsuit.”

“Good.” She stifled a yawn. “Do you have to go anywhere?”

“No.”

“Even better. Take a nap with me.”

“A nap?” Jason repeated, even as he kicked off his boots. “I’m not tired—”

“No, but you’re comfy and warm, and I need my rest.” She tugged him down next to her. “So stop complaining.”

Cottage: Living Room

Brenda folded her arms. “It’s so weird,” she told Elizabeth. “I don’t even know what to do with the rest of my life. I was so sure I’d be dead in a few years.”

“It’s good news,” Elizabeth reminded her.

“I know. I just…I have to rethink. I can go back to work. I can have a life again.” Brenda bit her lip. “I don’t even know where to start.” She nodded at Elizabeth who rotated her shoulder and winced. “That looks like it still hurts.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s been a week but it’s still sore. Jason is finally letting me out of his sight again. I convinced him to go to the warehouse.” Elizabeth rubbed the spot on her shoulder where the bullet had dug through, grimacing. “Diane dropped off a bunch of paperwork for me. Financial stuff. Name changing.”

“Ah.” Brenda nodded. “Marriage stuff.” She tipped her head. “So you’re staying married, then.”

“I guess. I don’t know. She said Jason didn’t ask about any of it, but that Sonny had. So I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. We were…figuring things out, and then—” Elizabeth looked at her hand, still bare.

“Then you got dumped in the lake and Jason almost died saving your life.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth met Brenda’s eyes. “I came over to hear about your results, but I also—you kept looking. I know Sonny had given up hope, but you stayed out there. Thank you. For bringing him back.”

“He promised me that you and I would get out of this alive,” Brenda said softly. “I knew he would have done anything to make that happen. Jason’s always taken care of me, even when I didn’t want him to. I wasn’t going to let him go. And you would have been right there with me if you were able to.”

“Still. Jason and I have a chance to figure things out because of you. And—don’t you dare tell Sonny this—but if you hadn’t started that insane marriage idea, then Sonny wouldn’t have dragged me to Vegas. Even with everything that happened—I’m grateful.”

“It’s kind of romantic if you forget why Jason was at the chapel in the first place,” Brenda said. “He looked so pissed when he dragged you through that door.”

“Very romantic,” she said dryly. “Glaring at me and asking me if I wanted proof or not—”

“But you married him.” Brenda tilted her head. “What made you go through with it? I would have jabbed the pen in his eye.”

Elizabeth hesitated, then just smiled at her. “Thank you,” she said again, getting to her feet. “For bringing Jason home.”

“Thank you for showing up in Vegas or I might be Mrs. Jason Morgan right now.” Brenda shuddered. “No, thank you.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth grinned when she came in and found Jason lining up a shot at the pool table. “Hey. I thought you would still be at work.”

“I was, and then Diane asked if you’d signed the papers she dropped off.” He set the pool cue on the table and walked over to her.

“Oh. Yeah. She said Sonny suggested if—if I needed it—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I didn’t really know. I mean, we haven’t really talked about it since before—well, before,” she added.

Jason leaned against the desk. “We can just let it sit,” he told her. “It’s just contracts. I mean, it doesn’t change anything—”

“But it would,” she said. “If I took your name and you put me on your bank accounts. I don’t need that—”

“I know—”

“But there’s other stuff Diane gave me. Life insurance from the warehouse, survivor’s benefits—” She folded her arms. “We can leave it alone and ignore it, but I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t.”

Jason was quiet for a minute. “What do you want to do?”

“I went to see Brenda today to thank her for bringing you home.” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and he parted his legs so that he could hold her against him. “And she asked me why I said yes. Back in Vegas. When you shoved that pen at me.”

Jason winced. “I’m sorry—”

“She asked me why,” Elizabeth repeated, “but I didn’t answer her. Because it’s your question to ask. You wanted to prove that you loved me. And I said yes because I believed you. Because of how it happened. I didn’t until then.”

“That’s…” Jason frowned. “You believed me because I was angry and rude?”

“You were angry, rude, almost offensive, and demanding I marry you because I’d been driving you crazy. Yeah.” She brushed her lips against his. “You weren’t worrying about me anymore, trying to spare my feelings. Trying to say the right thing. I was terrified you’d regret it later.”

“I don’t—” Jason rested his forehead against hers. “I thought you would.”

“I don’t. It might not have been right for anyone else, but it was perfect for me. I’ve had the proposal before, I’ve had the white dress. But Lucky didn’t love me. You do.”

“I do.” Jason kissed her again, then gently pushed her back so he could reach into the top drawer of the desk. “While I was out…” He took out an envelope. “I picked these up.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips as she stepped back and slid out the plane tickets. Two round trip tickets to Venice, Italy, leaving in three days. “Italy,” she murmured.

“Starting in Venice, but you should see Florence. And Sicily. Naples,” he added. “I want to show it to you.”

She raised her eyes from the tickets to find him holding out a ring. It wasn’t in a box and he wasn’t on one knee. It was just a tiny little gold bond with a few rubies and diamonds inset, held between his thumb and index finger. “I thought—”

“You wanted to wait to get rings until it was right.” Jason straightened and reached for her hand. He slid it on her finger. “Well?” he asked, and he grinned as he said, obviously remembering that he’d said the same thing to her that crazy dawn in Vegas when she’d hesitated and he’d snapped at her.

How different things were now, barely even two weeks later.

Elizabeth smirked, reached behind him for the folder that Diane had left and grabbed a pen, scrawling her name on the only piece of paper that mattered—taking Jason’s name and making them a family.

“Does that answer your question?”

Jason framed her face in his hands and kissed her, her smirk disappearing. “Yeah, it does,” he whispered against her mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

May 2, 2021

This entry is part 15 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 48 minutes. Did a spellcheck.


Clinic

Carly bit down on her nail as she watched Elizabeth twist and turn in the small bed, her face flushed. “How bad is the fever?” she asked the doctor who had bandaged and cleaned the gun shot wound.

“High,” the man said grimly as he pressed down on Elizabeth’s good shoulder to keep her from reopening the wound. “But we’ll get it down with the antibiotics.” He looked at her. “She was partially lucid when they brought her in, asking for Jason.”

“They haven’t found him yet,” Carly murmured, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. Oh, God, what if they didn’t find him? What if he had already drowned—what if she’d never see him again?

She couldn’t stand to think of him sinking below the cold, dark waters of the lake. Dying alone. Drowning, desperate for air.

She turned away from Elizabeth and went back into the outside room where Max was pacing, talking into the cell phone.

“Any news?” she asked him, even though she knew the answer. She could see it from his face. “Max?”

“Hey, Mrs. C. One second—okay. Okay.” Max closed the phone and slipped it into the pocket of his trousers. His suit jacket had been discarded somewhere, and his dark hair was still damp from being out on the water. “Sonny’s on the pier, and Brenda and Richie and the others are still looking.”

“It’s been—” Carly folded her arms tightly around her upper torso. “It’s been an hour. Almost ninety minutes.” She’d been counting down since the moment the call had come over the radio that Elizabeth had gone overboard. Sonny had snapped into action and left their car to start the rescue.

Seventy-six minutes.

“The current is strong in the lake, Mrs. C. You know that. We think Jason just got caught up. Part of that current in some areas can bring him closer to the shore,” Max assured her. “He might even be on his way home now—”

“I want to be on the docks when Sonny comes back,” Carly said. “You can stay here with Elizabeth, can’t you? She’s—I’m not her favorite person on a good day, but, um—” She rubbed a finger across her bottom lip. “It’s my fault.”

“How do you figure that?”

“They weren’t telling anyone they were married because they knew the PCPD would go after her. She never would have been in lockup if it wasn’t for me.”

“Mrs. C—” Max stopped. He didn’t deny her statement, and somehow, that comforted Carly. “I’ll stay here, and have someone drive you down.”

Pier 52

Sonny paced from the cargo door of the Corinthos-Morgan warehouse to the pier where the rescue boat had launched, then back again.

Eighty-seven minutes. He, too, had started the count from the moment Jason had gone into the water after Elizabeth. It had taken almost twenty minutes to find them, another twenty to get Elizabeth to shore—

They’d been searching for Jason for almost an hour. He wanted to believe, like Richie and some of the other guards who seemed to understand these things better, that he might get lucky and get swept towards another part of the shore. He had men scouring the all the places Jason could have washed up—

But part of Sonny was terrified that the next time he saw his best friend, his partner, his brother would be when his body floated to the surface of Lake Ontario.

He picked up the radio. “Any sign?” he demanded. There was a crackling and then an exhausted voice came back.

“No. Not yet. But I’m coming back without him,” Brenda said. “Elizabeth?”

“Holding her own. Doc says infection is setting in and so is a fever, but she’s on meds. I want Jason next to her when she wakes up.”

Brenda was quiet for a moment. “Sonny—”

“I know.” He released the button, pressed the radio to his forehead and forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Sonny?”

He turned at the sound of his wife’s voice. Carly strode out of the dark, her sweater pulled tightly around her. “What are you—”

“Max is at the clinic. I couldn’t stand—” She stared out over the dark water, the lights of Spoon Island barely visible through the fog. “I couldn’t stand being there. I was afraid she’d wake up and I’d have to tell her. I can’t—” Her voice faltered. “I can’t be the one to tell her.”

“She was on these docks the night Zander was murdered because of me,” Sonny said faintly. Carly frowned at him. “Jason thought she was still being guarded after she left the penthouse, but I reassigned Marco. I didn’t realize—”

“Sonny—”

“Jason was right. I was selfish. I didn’t care about Elizabeth. I didn’t think about who Marco was protecting, even though I could have asked. Weeks when Alcazar could have grabbed her.”

“It—it worked out,” Carly said weakly. “They went to Vegas—”

“Because I dragged her there and lied to her.  Maybe it worked out—but at the end of the day, if I were a better friend—” Sonny stared out over the lake again. “I wouldn’t be waiting for his body to be brought back.”

Clinic

Elizabeth’s throat was scratchy and dry, her eyes almost too heavy to lift—but she forced them open when she realized the man sitting next to her wasn’t Jason.

“M-Max?”

“Mrs. M.” Max’s smile felt forced, even as he squeezed her hand. “Your fever’s better. Good. Doc was worried—”

“Where’s—” She licked her lips, sweeping her tongue over the cracked and sore skin. “Jason. Where’s…”

“Uh, we’re, um, trying to answer that question now,” Max told her.

“He’s—” It came back to her in a rush—the freezing water, the way Jasons’ body had trembled under hers as he’d pushed the life belt over her head. He’d been so tired—he’d dragged himself and her towards that boat—

“Max—”

“Don’t you worry a bit, okay? Mr. C is out there, and Brenda and the guys—we’re not coming home without him. And you know, Jason’s like a cat. He’s got nine lives, and he’s only used like…” Max’s voice sped up. “Oh, don’t cry. No. We’re going to find him.”

He’d gone into the water with no wet suit, no life preserver, to save her life, and then had used every ounce of strength to drag her to safety.

She couldn’t lay here and wait for someone to tell her was dead.

“I need to—” Elizabeth twisted, reaching for the IV in her arm, tried to drag it out of her wrist with trembling fingers. “I need to go—I need to help—”

“No, no. Jason wouldn’t want this, okay? He made Mr. C promise he’d make sure you were safe.”

But Elizabeth wasn’t listening. She tore the tape off the IV, barely even feeling the sear on her skin, then pulled the needle out. “Clothes. I need clothes.”

“Jason is going to kill me,” Max muttered as he got to his feet, holding Elizabeth up as she stumbled out of bed.

“What’s going on in here?” the doctor demanded as he appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing out of bed? Max—”

“Uh, find me some clothes—” Max said, wrapping an arm around Elizabeth’s waist as she swayed.

“She needs to be back in bed—”

“No! No! If you don’t take me to the pier, I’ll just walk,” Elizabeth said, shoving away the doctor’s hands. “No—”

“Listen,” Max said as Elizabeth stumbled towards a closet, hoping to find clothes, “she means it. I’ll go with her, and bring her right back as soon as we know.”

“It’ll be on your head,” the doctor muttered but went to find some sweats to put the patient in.

Pier 52

Ninety-eight minutes since he’d gone into the water.

Ninety-nine.

Then one hundred and five. One hundred and ten.

“She’s still out there,” Carly said as Sonny finished listening to Brenda’s increasingly weak voice say they’d cleared another part of the lake but were going to keep looking. “It’s almost two hours.”

“She blames herself.”

“A lot of that going around.” Carly rubbed her arms. “Sonny. It’s nearly one in the morning. I—I don’t know if—could he still be alive? If he’s still in the water—” Her husband turned to look at her. “It’s just—it’s so cold.”

“I can’t stop. He wouldn’t.” Sonny put an arm around her, drawing her into his embrace. “You’re freezing. Why don’t you—”

“So that you can get the news alone when they find him?” she shook her head. “No. If it’s the worst—” She cleared her throat. “No. We’ll face it together.”

There were footsteps shuffling behind them and they turned to find Max coming out of the darkness, carefully walking just in front of Elizabeth who looked like death warmed over.

“What the—” Carly blinked. “What you are doing here?”

“I couldn’t—” Elizabeth took a deep breath as the chill settled into her bones. Oh, God, the water was so cold. She knew Jason didn’t always feel the cold but it didn’t mean it didn’t effect him.

What if he was already—

“I couldn’t sit there and wait. I needed—” She winced as she moved her shoulder. “I needed to be here.”

“But—”

“You could go instead,” Sonny said, “into the warehouse or something—”

“I’m okay—”

There was a crackling over the radio as Brenda’s voice came in. “Sonny? Sonny!”

“I’m here,” Sonny said, raising the device to his lips. “What’s up? Where are you?”

“We—we found—just—” There was shuffle as Elizabeth’s heart began to pound and Carly clenched her hands into fists.

“Sonny?”

Sonny closed his eyes and Elizabeth’s knees buckled — because it was Jason’s voice, exhausted and faint, crackling over the connection.

“Hey,” Sonny managed. “Hey. She found you.”

“We’re heading back in, but he wanted to know about Elizabeth—”

“I can do you one better.” Sonny held the radio up to Elizabeth’s lips.

“Jason?”

“Elizabeth. You’re…okay.”

Tears stung her eyes as the wind bit into her cheeks. She didn’t feel the cold anymore. She took the radio from Sonny with her good hand. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay. Are you?”

“….tired…” His voice faded out and Brenda came back on the line.

“He washed up about three miles out. We were right about the currents, but he’s tired. He swam a long time. We’re trying to keep him awake until we come back—”

“I can help. I can help. Jason.”

“…yeah?”

“Remember that winter at my studio? When you were always trying to sleep and I kept you up because I hum and talk to myself?”

She could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah.”

“This time I can do it on purpose. Oh, come all ye faithful,” her voice warbled and Sonny laughed. Carly pressed her hands to her face as Elizabeth continued to sing off-key and hoarsely to keep Jason awake as Brenda and the guards brought him home.

April 18, 2021

This entry is part 14 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 57   minutes.


Elm Street Pier

Jason grabbed Brenda’s elbow, holding her back from stepping out onto Pier 52 and the launch that would take them out to Alcazar’s yacht, anchored just off shore. “Repeat the plan to me.”

“Do you think that I wasn’t listening the first eight times you made me do this?” Brenda demanded. “Do you think I’ll be stupid and—” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know it’s not about that. It’s how you’re keeping your cool. Okay. We get on the boat. You demand that Elizabeth be allowed to send back to shore first and Luis will refuse. Then you’ll start negotiating which will distract him because he’ll be annoyed, and while he’s annoyed, Sonny’s men will be getting into position.”

“The second they take the shot,” Jason told her, “I’m going to grab Elizabeth. You go for the boat. Don’t think of anything. Just go.”

“I can do that. But I need you to make me a promise—no, don’t shake your head at me, Jason Morgan. Luis Alcazar is my problem. He came here because I wanted to go home and he wanted to make sure I didn’t have a home to come back to.”

“You are not responsible for his obsessions—”

“No. But he’s not your problem to fix. I came to you because I was desperate and because I knew I could count on you,” she confessed. “I only tried to blackmail you with Sonny and Carly because I was scared. But over the last couple of days, I remembered what I’d always tried to forget.”

Jason’s brows drew together in confusion. “What?”

“You looked miserable the day Sonny sent you to stop the wedding. And I forced you to tell me the truth in front of everyone. You tried to be kind. And I made it your fault. I blamed you because I couldn’t bring myself to admit the truth. Sonny didn’t love me enough to find a way out of it.”

“Brenda, that was a long time ago—”

“I know it, but it’s always been there between us. I resented you because it hurt too much to put the blame where it belonged. And because of that, I need you to know that if anyone isn’t coming home today, it’s me—”

“Brenda—”

“You and Elizabeth have a whole lifetime in front of you. I need you to promise me that you will get her out of this. I can survive Luis. He can’t break me, and I can live to fight another day. Elizabeth—he doesn’t care about her. So if it actually does come down to saving her or me, I want you to know that I expect you to get her home alive.”

“Brenda—”

“You don’t make promises you don’t try to keep. It’s something I’ve always respected about you. I’m not stepping foot on that yacht until you promise me.”

Alcazar’s Yacht: Upper Deck

“Ah, right on time.”

Elizabeth glowered at Alcazar as he watched the boat moving towards him with some satisfaction. She couldn’t do more than that since he’d gagged her and tied her hands together—he’d also lightly tied her legs together. She could shuffle along, but there’d be no running.

“Let’s see if your husband has some good sense,” Alcazar said. He grabbed her arm and dragged her forward.

Jason stepped on board first, sweeping a brief look over Elizabeth before turning back to reach out a hand to Brenda.

“Search him,” Luis said to one of the men standing nearby. “Confiscate any weapons.”

Jason’s glare could cut ice as he spread out his arms and allowed himself to be subjected to the pat down by the guards. “You think I’d take a chance with Elizabeth’s life on the line?”

“A man can’t be too sure.” Alcazar’s greedy eyes took in Brenda, his eyes lighting up with something dark and twisted that sent shivers down Elizabeth’s spine. “I know you think you have a way out of this, but I’m ready for anything you have planned.”

He looked at Elizabeth, lifting his dark brows. “You’ve been a lovely, charming companion. Even amusing. Did you know, Mr. Morgan—” He returned his gaze to Jason. “She thought perhaps this kidnapping was better than her last. She’s waiting on a third to decide for sure.”

Alcazar took Elizabeth by the arm and gently maneuvered her in front of him. Elizabeth wasn’t entirely sure what she expected—maybe he was attempting to start the trade with a sign of good faith?

Was he really going to trade her? Did Jason have a plan—

But then Alcazar released her arm and she realized only in the second before it happened what he’d planned.

He had pushed her so that her back was against the railing, then reached into his suit jacket.

There was a scream, a shout, and then just the glint of the yacht’s light on the metal of the gun before the night exploded with the sound of fireworks and a hot slice of pain arrowed through her shoulder.

The force of the shot sent her reeling and then Alcazar shoved her over—

Elizabeth tried to scream as her body twisted and rolled before she hit the freezing dark waters of Lake Ontario, but her cries were muffled by the gag in her mouth. She tried to swim, tried to move her arms, but quickly the current of the lake dragged her under.

___

Brenda choked back a sob as Luis shoved Elizabeth, bound and gagged over the railing of the yacht. With little more than an apologetic glance at Brenda, Jason launched himself overboard after her.

Brenda rushed to the railing, a crazy thought of trying to go after them, trying to help—but that wouldn’t solve anything.

“I’m sure Morgan had a plan,” Luis murmured. “I knew you’d make it clear to them that allowing the sweet Elizabeth to disappear with me into the night would be a terrible future for her. At first,” he added. “I could have charmed her. Make her fall in love with me.”

“The way I did,” Brenda said softly. She could see nothing at all. No figures. No thrashing in the water. Elizabeth had probably already sank down, unable to keep herself afloat, and Jason would never come back without her.

“I do have a way about me,” Luis said. He turned away to one of the guards. “It’s time to go. Let’s leave while Corinthos and his men are distracted—”

“I thought I did love you,” Brenda said. “I thought I didn’t have anything else to live for, and you were kind. I didn’t want to have sex with you, but you made me feel like I owed it to you.” She turned to look at him. “And I guess you’re not a man who minds when the woman lays still beneath him like a corpse.”

His mouth twisted and he flicked his eyes to the guards. “Leave us,” he snarled. In less than a minute, they were alone on the deck.  “That’s not how it was—”

“You thought you had this all it planned out,” Brenda said, “but I know you, Luis. And I knew you’d find a way to separate me from Jason. I also knew that you never thought I was very smart. Or bright. Your mistake was assuming that everyone saw me that way.”

“Brenda—”

“I knew you wouldn’t have me searched.” Brenda reached beneath the bulky sweater she wore, drew out the gun Jason had given her, and leveled the barrel at him. Luis’s eyes bulged  and he put his hands up.

“Brenda—”

The bullet struck him between the eyes, his head exploding around him as his body hit the deck, already dead.

There were footsteps rushing towards her as the guards came towards her, but Brenda just pointed the gun at them. “He’s dead,” she snarled. “And now you’ll do exactly what I say or you’re next.”

___

Jason hit the water less than two minutes after Elizabeth, but he knew it might already be too late. He knew the odds, knew that she’d been tied up, unable to swim—

But he was never going to leave her behind. Either they both went home or neither of them did.

On his third dive beneath the frigid waters, his muscles aching and his lungs screaming, he found her. She was twisting and desperately trying to break free to the surface, using her tied hands like a shovel, digging at the water—

Jason used what energy he had left to drag Elizabeth to the surface and tug the gag from her mouth. He could have wept when he heard her drag in a long, desperate breath.

“You found me,” she managed. He looped her hands over his neck, using his legs to keep them both afloat. “You found me.”

He pushed her sodden hair away from her face, smoothing his thumb over her lips. “I will always find you,” he promised. He kissed her, just for a minute, just to feel her mouth against his.

Jason twisted them, trying to see how far they’d drifted from the yacht. He had to get her to shore before they both froze. The lights of the yacht looked distant, but he knew his eyes could be playing tricks on him. He didn’t know if Brenda had been able to pull the gun on Alcazar, but by now Sonny’s men would be in the water.

He had to believe that.

“Untie my hands. I c-can s-swim,” Elizabeth managed, her teeth chattered. He lifted her arms from around his neck to try to undo the ropes, but his fingers were fumbling and his legs were tiring from keeping them both afloat. If he couldn’t get these ropes undone, the ones around her ankles would be impossible.

“J-Jason—”

He put her arms back around his neck. “Can’t waste time. You need to get to shore. She’d been shot and nearly drowned. A bullet in the shoulder, the waters of the lake—she’d die from blood loss and infection if he didn’t get her to shore—

“But—”

He ignored her protests and started swimming towards the yacht. He had to believe Brenda had been able to defend herself or that Sonny had been able to get on board—

Had to believe it—

His arms were screaming and his body felt numb, but Jason kept swimming, the feeling of Elizabeth’s arms around his neck reminding him that he needed to keep going. Needed to get her to shore.

“Jason! Jason!”

His brain was foggy—he couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t hear the screams of his names—was that in his head?

A bright light blinded him, but then he realized it was the small boat that had ferried them between the pier and the yacht. He saw Sonny’s face dimly and Brenda’s just behind him. The boat was still maybe twenty feet away, but he’d know them anywhere. “Jason!” Brenda called again.

“Elizabeth—” Jason pulled her arms off his neck as Sonny threw a life ring out towards them. “Elizabeth, you need to hold onto this.”

“J-Jason—” Her voice slurred as her eyes drifted closed. “Y-You, too—”

“You first.” He fitted the ring over her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too—”

Then Sonny was pulling on the rope, dragging Elizabeth away from Jason, towards the boat. Towards safety.

Jason continued to tread water, but everything hurt and he was so tired. So cold.

____

“Get—Get Jason,” Elizabeth’s words were barely audible as Sonny and two of their men dragged her onto the boat. Brenda was sobbing as she frantically pressed gauze to Elizabeth’s shoulder and Max swiftly cut through her bindings.

Sonny threw the ring out back into the direction of where he’d last seen Jason, but there was no tug on the line to indicate it had been grabbed.

And by the time they reached the spot where Jason and Elizabeth had been sighted, there was no one.

Sonny sucked in a breath or horror he frantically pushed the light around the surrounding water.

“Jason—where’s Jason—” Brenda demanded, scrambling away from Elizabeth. “Jason!” she screamed. “Jason!”

“We—” Sonny sucked in a harsh breath. He traded a look with Max. “How is she?”

“Pulse is thready. Her body core temp is low,” Max told him. “And we can’t stop the bleeding.”

“Jason!” Brenda’s scream disappeared in the rough waters of the lake. “Jason!”

 

“Brenda, we need to get Elizabeth to shore—she needs medical attention—”

“No, no! We can’t—” Brenda’s breathing was labored and choppy, sobs breaking her speech. “No, I can’t leave him in the dark, in the water! Please—please—” She turned back to the water, and for a wild moment, Sonny thought she meant to throw herself overboard.

“Brenda—”

“I’ll go in, Boss—” one of the men offered. “Get the boat to the yacht and send it back out. We’ll keep looking for him. He must have drifted. I’ll find him.” The guard, Richie, Sonny strugged to remember, started to shove off his shirt and pants, revealing a wetsuit underneath. “Jason thought we might need to be ready for anything.”

“Okay, okay. Go in, Richie. We’ll come back for you,” Sonny promised, and the guard slipped beneath the waves. Sonny gave the order for the other guard to turn the boat back to the yacht while Sonny turned to the still sobbing Brenda.

“If Elizabeth dies while we’re searching for Jason, he’d never forgive me,” Sonny said. “He made it clear to me. She comes home.”

“I can’t stand leaving him in the water. I remember—I remember accident. I remember hitting the water—” Brenda pressed her hands to her eyes. “I made it out of the car, and I swam for hours. Hours. It was so cold, so dark—I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep. I finally did. I can’t leave him here.”

“We’re not—”

“We are!” Brenda looked back to the spot where Jason had disappeared, where they could just see Richie diving beneath the water. “Promise you won’t stop looking until you find him. However you find him.”

“I won’t,” Sonny said, hoping like hell he wouldn’t be bringing Elizabeth’s husband home in a body bag.

April 11, 2021

This entry is part 13 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 49 minutes. Did a spell check but not a reread.


Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“How the hell do you just lose a prisoner?” Brenda demanded as Jason tried to absorb what Mac had just told him.

Elizabeth was missing. She was gone.

“He’s bluffing!” Scott declared to Mac. “You know it—”

Mac narrowed his eyes at the district attorney. “If he was bluffing,” the man began, “then why the hell is he here and not with her?”

“We drag him into the PCPD, he won’t be able to join her—we let him on the loose—” Scott continued.

“No one answered my damn question! How the hell does someone waltz into lock up and take a prisoner away?” Brenda stepped in front of Jason. “Until you give us some answers, you should get out—”

“Which brunette did you marry or is this one of those sister-wives things?” Scott snarled. Brenda hissed and started for the district attorney, but Jason grabbed her arm and dragged her back.

“She’s right,” Jason said flatly. “You locked my wife up without any damn evidence and now she’s missing. Go find her. I’ve got nothing else to say to you. Get out.”

“Let’s go before he changes his mind and lets Brenda loose—” Mac sent Brenda a surly look. “And she bites—”

“Damn right—”

As soon as the elevator doors had closed on the law enforcement officers, Jason and Brenda were across the hall, Jason not even letting Max announce them.

Carly, Sonny, and Michael were sitting at the table, eating, but Sonny surged to his feet as Jason and Brenda came in. “What’s going on?” he demanded. He looked to Carly who hurried to grab Michael and hand him off to Leticia. The nanny went upstairs.

“Elizabeth disappeared from lock up last night,” Jason said and now the words were really sinking in. There was only one person who’d go after her this way. He knew he hadn’t arranged for it—even he didn’t have the connections to get her out under the PCPD’s nose. Neither did Sonny.

That left one option.

“Damn it—” Sonny growled. “Do they think you did it?”

“Scott does,” Brenda said, “but Mac didn’t seem convinced. Sonny—Jason—” She looked at the enforcer. “Luis could have done this—”

“There’s no could have—”

The landline across the room rang. The four of them looked at it for a minute before Jason stalked over to snatch up the receiver. “What?”

“Did you enjoy your visit from the DA and Commissioner?”

The cool, unaffected tone had Jason’s blood boiling but he knew how to handle this. He had to turn it off. He couldn’t do what he’d done this summer—when he’d lost his temper in a fit of rage and fear and killed the man who knew Elizabeth was in that crypt.

“Not really.”

“I didn’t think you would. Your wife is quite lovely, Mr. Morgan. And very smart. Did you know she didn’t even fight?”

His mouth was so dry he could barely force out the words. “Where is she?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Still alive anyway. I’m enjoying the sight. She looks like my Brenda, you know. All that lovely dark hair, big eyes—they’re the wrong color, but I could tolerate it. There’s not much to her, is there? Delicate. Fragile. Just my type.”

His knuckles ached as he tightened his fingers around the receiver. “I want proof of life.”

“You’re a cold one, aren’t you? That’s why I’m negotiating with you. Mr. Corinthos is more hot-headed—”

“Proof of life,” Jason cut in. “Or I hang up.” He waited, hearing the rustle, hearing something in the background, hushed tones.

Finally — “Jason?”

He closed his eyes. “Elizabeth. Are you all right?”

“Yes. He didn’t—he didn’t hurt me. They drugged me and I woke up wherever I am. Jason, he wants to trade—don’t do it—”

Her voice disappeared as Jason imagined someone yanking it away and Alcazar’s voice came over the line. “Brave girl, trying to ruin my surprise. But I’m sure you saw this coming. I thought about forcing Sonny to trade his wife, but I’m not so sure he wouldn’t leave the harpy with me for punishment and keep what’s mine. I want Brenda.”

“I don’t control her—”

“I didn’t say she had to be willing. You know how to get the job done. If you want your wife back, you’ll make the deal.” There was a pause. “You might need some time to think it over. I’ll call back in ten minutes.”

The line went dead and Jason slowly set it back down on the hook, trying to order his thoughts. He wanted to go to the yacht, kill everyone in sight until he found her and bring her home—but that clearly wasn’t an option.

“Jason?” Sonny asked. “You talked to her?”

“She’s alive. He wants a trade.”

“For me.” Brenda folded her arms tightly across her chest. Her cheeks were pale as she spoke, “He wants me.”

“Yes.” Jason met her eyes. “That’s not on the table, Brenda. Even if I wanted to, Elizabeth would never agree to it.”

Brenda took that in, then looked at Carly who had remained quiet, almost frozen. “It’d be an easy choice for you, huh?” she said, her tone light but laced with fear.

“No.” Carly’s eyes were direct. “No. It wouldn’t be.” She turned her attention to Jason. “What can I do?”

“Michael is probably scared,” Jason told her. “Go upstairs. Sit with him. If I think of something else—”

“Okay. Okay.” Carly dragged her hands through her hair, took another deep breath, and started for the stairs — but stopped at the knock on the door and the raised voices outside.

Max opened the door as Audrey Hardy pushed her way in.

“I just had a call from Mac Scorpio,” Elizabeth’s grandmother said, her voice hard and tight. “My granddaughter is missing. Either you sent her out of the country or one of your enemies kidnapped her. Which is it?”

“Mrs. Hardy,” Sonny began but Audrey silenced him with one hot glare.

“I was going to approve of this,” Audrey began, shaking a finger at Jason. “I had my reservations, but I didn’t want to fight with my granddaughter anymore. But I was right! You’ll be death of her—”

“Uh, weren’t you championing my idiot cousin like eight seconds ago?” Carly snapped, stepping in front of the older woman and her friend. “Didn’t you give Elizabeth a lot of grief for leaving him at the altar? Didn’t Lucky almost get her killed like eight times because of Helena Cassadine?”

Audrey narrowed her eyes. “That’s different—”

“Yeah, because Helena is certifiably insane. But Elizabeth knew that. She’s a big girl who puts her panties on one leg at a time. She knows who Jason is. What he does. So why the hell do you respect her choices when she takes on super villains but not a guy who’d literally walk through fire for her?”

Audrey stared at Carly for a long moment before swallowing hard and meeting Jason’s eyes. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Hardy,” Jason said honestly. “But I’m going to get her back. I promise you that.”

Alcazar’s Yacht

Elizabeth was getting very tired of being kidnapped. The first time, she’d been dragged out of her studio kicking and screaming but this time she’d been drugged and hadn’t known what was going on. She couldn’t decide which was worse.

She really didn’t like the ropes and gag—but at least she was being held in a room with port-holes that received sunlight. It wasn’t dark.

“You have the strangest look on your face,” Luis Alcazar murmured as he sauntered across the room. He removed the gag from her mouth. “What’s going through that head of yours?”

“Honestly? Trying to decide which kidnapping I liked better.” Elizabeth rolled her shoulders. “The ropes are chafing my wrist,” she said, “but the last time, I was shoved in a crypt and held in the dark for days.”

“So I’m preferable?”

“I didn’t enjoy the drugging or waking up somewhere strange. I don’t know. We’ll see what happens when I get kidnapped a third time. I’ll need a tie breaker.”

“Fair enough.” The man lowered himself into a chair across from her. “You expect to be kidnapped again?”

“You never know in Port Charles.” Elizabeth waited a beat. “This isn’t going to work.”

“You’re going to tell me Morgan won’t sacrifice Brenda for you, and I know that.” Luis lifted an elegant shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “She’ll offer herself, and he’ll tell her now, and they’ll come up with another plan.”

“So why bother if it won’t work—” She stopped. “Because Jason won’t get near this boat without Brenda.”

“Once she’s on board, I have a chance. Right now, I don’t have many options.”

“But she doesn’t want you—you’re rich and you’re not hideous,” she admitted. “You could have almost anyone—”

“Could I have you?” Luis asked coolly. When she scowled at him. “I can have anyone I want. I want Brenda. She was perfectly happy for a long time—”

“Until she wasn’t. What are you going to do? Lock her up? Even if you win this time,” Elizabeth said, “she’ll just try to leave again. Are you going to spend the rest of your life chasing after her, kidnapping and killing to keep her?”

“If I have to.”

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “What if Jason refuses to bring Brenda to the boat?”

“Oh, he won’t. Excuse me, dear. I have a call to make.”

Luis slid the cell phone out of his jacket pocket. “Morgan? Hello. I just wanted to make the terms of my deal crystal clear. You either bring Brenda to the yacht tonight at eleven to make the trade or I’ll sail away with the beautiful Mrs. Morgan to keep me company on the dark, cold nights. You can ask Brenda how that might go.” His lips curled into a smile. “Yes, I thought you’d see it my way.”

He closed the phone and placed it back in his jacket as Elizabeth just stared at him. “Questions?”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“What are you going to do?”

Jason turned to Carly who hadn’t gone upstairs even after Audrey had gone. They’d only heard his side of the conversation, making the appointment.

“I don’t know yet, but if he doesn’t see you by eleven tonight—” he looked at Brenda whose dark eyes were somber, “he said he’d leave and keep Elizabeth to keep him company. The way you did.”

Brenda cleared her throat, stared down at the ground. “Okay. Okay. Well, we have to keep that from happening at all costs.”

“Brenda—” Sonny began, but Brenda jerked her head up to stare at her former lover.

“No. You don’t get to ask that question. No one gets to ask that question.”

“But—”

“She said no,” Carly said, surprising Sonny and Brenda. “Whatever she doesn’t want to talk about sounds like it’s bad enough we don’t want it for Elizabeth. Do you need the damned details, Sonny?”

“No. No, I’m sorry,” Sonny said, startled by his wife’s defense, but no more so than Brenda who stared at the blonde with wide eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Carly muttered. “I’m a selfish, narcissistic bitch. There’s no rule that says I can’t occasionally be a good person when I feel like it.”

“Brenda—” Jason began.

“I’ll go with you,” Brenda said. “Because Luis doesn’t make idle threats. He’ll leave. And you’ll be chasing him for the rest of your life. It’s her or me.”

“No. It’s neither of you. You’ll go only because he won’t let me on the boat without you. But we’ll go in with a plan. You and Elizabeth, you’re both getting off that damn boat.”

It was only later that Brenda realized that Jason hadn’t said anything about making sure they all came home.

April 4, 2021

This entry is part 12 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 61 minutes.


Port Charles Courthouse: Court Room

Jason’s mood turn another dark turn when he slid into a chair next to Sonny and Carly and saw Baldwin behind the prosecution’s table. Brenda, sitting behind them, leaned forward to touch his shoulder.

“Were you able to see her?” Sonny asked, twisting in his chair slightly. Carly, mercifully, stayed silent.

“No,” Jason muttered. “No visitors before they drove her over here.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. He hadn’t slept in two nights—not since Taggert had dragged Elizabeth out of their bedroom and put her in handcuffs.

“Sonny said Diane Miller is the best defense lawyer in the state,” Carly said. Jason frowned at her. “I mean, he’d only hire the best. This will be okay, Jase.”

Jason squinted at her. “Are you…trying to be nice?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yes, and it hurts, so don’t start with me.”

The lawyer in question strode into the room and went to the front of the room, setting her briefcase on the table before turning to the small group behind her.

Jason lurched to his feet. “Did you see her? Is she okay?” he demanded, pitching his low so that Baldwin, despite his straining, could not hear them.

“She’s managing,” the redhead said after a long pause. “When this is over, you take that girl on a nice vacation where she can get some sleep.”

Jason started to reply, but a door opened by the judge’s bench and a bailiff led Elizabeth into the courtroom and he swore under his breath when she looked over at them, focused on him. She’d changed into prison blues, the shirt practically swimming on her. Her hair hung limply down to her neck, and her skin—always pale—was nearly translucent with thick, dark purple circles digging grooves beneath her eyes.

“Jason,” she said softly as the bailiff unlocked the shackles at her ankles.

“Why the hell is she shackled head to toe?” Diane demanded off the bailiff. “She’s not a violent criminal—uncuff my client! Now!”

“Sorry, ma’am—” the bailiff slid his eyes to Baldwin who just lifted a brow. “I got my orders. Said this one is a flight risk—”

“Flight risk—” Sonny lunged to his feet. “How the hell—”

“It’s okay,” Elizabeth said faintly. She swallowed. “It’s just for a little while, isn’t it?” Her eyes found Jason’s. “Diane said they’ll set bail, and I’ll go home—” Her voice faltered. “So I can manage.”

Jason fisted his hands at his side, but he didn’t think getting himself arrested for pummeling a district attorney would help Elizabeth’s case. He glared at the bailiff, before looking back at Diane. “Whatever you have to do—get her out of here today.”

“I’ll do my best—” Diane turned as the bailiff hooked Elizabeth’s cuffs to the table, her lips thinning with distaste.

“Girl probably weighs a hundred pounds soaking weight,” Sonny muttered as he took his seat. “And they think she’ll overpower the damn cops—”

“They’re doing it rattle Jason,” Brenda said quietly. Jason turned to the brunette. “You know it. Baldwin just wants you to feel guilty.” She looked at Scott who was deliberately not looking at them. “Don’t let him see you get upset. It’s what he wants.”

“Brenda’s right,” Carly said, “and it’s a measure of my love for you,” she told Jason who just blinked at her, “that I’m admitting that.”

The bailiff called the hearing to order and the judge stepped up to the bench to begin the hearing. Jason’s blood boiled as Scott laid out the evidence against Elizabeth — she’d been on the pier when Zander had been killed, she had motive —

“And Your Honor, Elizabeth Webber fled the jurisdiction immediately after the crime,” Scott began.

“Objection,” Diane said coolly, not even bothering to stand. She sounded nearly bored. “My client traveled to Las Vegas and returned to Port Charles within twenty-four hours. She was already in the jursidiction when the PCPD questioned her. I find your characterization of her actions outrage and spurious—”

“She went to Las Vegas in the middle of the night on a private flight that wasn’t scheduled,” Scott shot back. “And she only came back when she’d married the witness in her case—”

“I’m sorry, since when is Jason Morgan a witness to a murder he wasn’t in town for?” Diane said pleasantly. “You have the receipts. His plane took off almost twenty minutes before Zander Smith was murdered—”

Scott opened his mouth, but the judge cut him off. “Neither one of you is earning any points here,” he said dryly, drawing both their attention. “You’ve made your case, D.A. Baldwin.” He looked at Diane. “How does your client plead?”

Diane nodded to Elizabeth. “Not guilty,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“All right. The court will reflect that and we’ll bound this over for trial.” The judge picked up a pen. “What’s the position on bail?”

“Since the defendant has married a man of considerable means with property in several countries without an extradition treaty,” Scott said, “we request that bail be denied.”

“Mmmm.” The judge looked at Diane. “I imagine you oppose that?”

“We do. My client has no criminal record and has ties to the community. She’s lived here since she was a teenager—”

“Which was practically last year,” Scott muttered.

“And her grandmother still lives here. In addition, her husband has ties to Port Charles. His parents are doctors at General Hospital, and the Quartermaines are prominent citizens. My client is the opposite of a flight risk.”

The judge studied Diane for a long moment, then focused on Jason in the audience with a furrowed brow. “I find your argument, Miss Miller, to be without basis. Your client’s husband has refused all ties to the Quartermaines in the past, and Miss Webber might not have been convicted of any crimes, but I do see several arrests on her record. I am denying bail at this time—”

“What?”

“That’s crap!” Carly announced at the same time Sonny sputtered out his protest, but Jason couldn’t find the words. Elizabeth didn’t look at him, but her head bowed slightly.

“Your Honor, this is without merit—”

“Your client is accused of murdering an ex-lover. She fled the jurisdiction, married a man who can get her out of the country before I finish my lunch,” the judge said dryly. “She gets no brownie points because she came back. You should have chosen your associates better, Miss Webber.” His voice hardened. “Or should I call you Mrs. Morgan?”

The judge banged the gavel as Diane was still sputtering in outrage. “Court is adjoined. Please return the defendant to lockup—”

“Wait—” Diane hissed. “Can my client have a minute with her husband—”

“So they can make plans for escape?” Scott said with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, I am going to call my mother,” Carly told Scott. “You’re never getting her back after this—”

Scott made a face, but the judge nodded at Diane. “She can have a minute. One minute,” he added. He paused. “And bailiff, I think we can leave off the shackes. While she might be a flight risk, she’s unlikely to overpower you.”

The bailiff reluctantly uncufed Elizabeth from the table, and she stood turning to Jason. “I’ll be okay,” she told him.

“I am going to appeal,” Diane said immediately. “This is clearly retribution—”

“I’ll come as soon as they let me,” Jason promised her. “As often as they—” He took her hands in his, wincing at the way they trembled slightly. “I’m going to make this go away.”

“I know you’ll try.” Elizabeth licked her lips and looked up at him. “I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t get me a ring after all.” Her voice was nearly unaudible as she continued. “It’s not like they wouldn’t have let me keep it in here.”

He leaned down to brush his lips against hers but the bailiff jerked her back. “None of that,” he snapped. “Time to go—”

“I’ll be okay,” Elizabeth promised him. “I can handle this.”

And then she was gone, dragged through the door and back to lock up.

“How long before the appeal?’ Jason demanded of Diane. “If you file it now—”

“It might take a few days.” Diane paused. “Maybe even a week. Mr. Morgan—”

“Get it done,” Jason snapped and stormed out of the court room.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason stripped off his suit jacket and tossed it on the sofa before turning back to glare at the trio that had followed him in. “Sonny, who do we know at the PCPD that will get us into lock up?”

“Jason,” Carly began, “she’ll be okay for a few days—”

“Carly, go home and call your mother,” Sonny told his wife and she frowned at him. “Make her yell at Baldwin. If Baldwin agrees to bail, the appeal won’t take as long.”

“But—”

“It’s something you can do for me,” Jason told her, and that seemed to convince the blonde who still looked unhappy as she left. To Sonny, he said, “Get me a way into lock up. If that appeal doesn’t go through—”

“This is my fault,” Brenda said, drawing both of their attention.

“Brenda—” Jason began.

“No, if I hadn’t had that insane plan to blackmail you into marrying me, you wouldn’t have been on the plane when Elizabeth needed you,” she insisted. “You would have been here—”

“It shouldn’t have mattered,” Jason said. “And it’s not your fault.” He focused on Sonny who seemed to know what was coming. “It’s yours.”

Sonny wrinkled his nose. “Look, it’s not like I knew Zander was dead—”

“She came to you because she’d been shot at, and you didn’t handle it. You didn’t make sure the pier was clear. You lied to her, dragged her across the country — and now the PCPD is using that to keep her locked up—”

“If I hadn’t dragged her across the country, you wouldn’t be married to her right now!” Sonny retorted. “How about a little gratitude?”

Before Jason could lunge for his friend’s throat, Brenda slid in front of her ex-fiance and spread her arms wide. “You’ll only feel better for a hot minute if you pound his face in right now,” she told Jason. “You can yell at him later.”

“You dragged her across the country and you took away her guard,” Jason retorted. “Marco should have been with her. She never would have been on that pier if you’d thought about anyone other than yourself!”

“Hey, she wasn’t my girlfriend to take care of!” Sonny shot back. “You didn’t notice she didn’t have a guard for two weeks—how is that my fault?”

“Okay, so you’re going to go,” Brenda told Sonny. She opened the door and started to shove him through it. “Go get the guy at the PCPD while I keep Jason from murdering you on the spot—”

“I am sick and tired of being treated like I did something wrong,” Sonny said, shoving Brenda’s hands away from him. “You two were the insane ones, flying to Vegas to get married! I stopped it! And if I hadn’t brought Elizabeth—”

“You mean if you hadn’t lied to her about me being hurt? You used her — and why the hell do you care what Brenda and I do?” Jason demanded. “How is it any of your business? If you’d stayed here and protected Elizabeth, none of this would be happening! I’ve spent most of my life protecting your family and cleaning up your messes—”

“What the hell does that mean—”

“You refused to let me tell Elizabeth you were alive—you made me lie to her—”

“No, you were the one that lied to her. I told you to send her to the island so you—”

“You know,” Brenda said, almost conversationally as if the two men weren’t shouting at each other, “this might be the first time I’m glad you left me at the altar and you sent Jason to do it.”

That shut them both up as they stared at her. “What the hell—”

“You sent Jason to dump me, and I blamed him for a long time. But you’re just a coward, Sonny, when it really matters.” She turned to Jason. “He’s never going to admit he was wrong, so just drop it. Focus on what matters and that’s getting Elizabeth out of jail.”

She then looked back Sonny. “Get out and don’t bother coming back if you can’t be productive.”

Then Brenda shoved Sonny over the threshold and slammed the door. She exhaled in a huff. “He’ll never admit that the reason he came to Vegas to stop us was because he was jealous. He doesn’t want me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have me.” She cleared her throat. “And he’ll never admit that he didn’t see Elizabeth as a person in that moment. He saw her as a tool to be used to get what he wanted. He knew you’d never go through with it if she was there to watch.”

Jason took a deep breath. “I already knew it was a mistake. At the altar. Before they showed up. I’m sorry, Brenda, but I was already going to stop it.”

“Good. It would have been wrong. Funny,” she added, “but wrong. And don’t let Sonny take credit. You and Elizabeth might have gotten married because you were in Vegas, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t make the decision. Maybe it was insane, but something good came out of it.”

“Good? Because of it, she’s trapped in jail—”

“No, she’s in jail because the PCPD refuse to believe you didn’t do this. You know that Scott probably thinks you’re lying about who was on which flight. He thinks you sent her ahead as an alibi for you, and then you came later. I don’t know this Zander guy, but I feel bad for anyone who cared about him. They don’t care who did this, not really.” Brenda took a deep breath. “Now, how do we get Elizabeth out of this?”

PCPD: Jail

Elizabeth had hoped that anoher woman would be sent to lock-up so that she wouldn’t be alone on the cell block. There were no windows, no way to see the outside world. Just the cinder block and bars and artificial, fluorescent lighting that made her eyes hurt—

Elizabeth lay on the cot, staring at the ceiling, hoping that something would change—that Diane would perform miracles—she didn’t want Jason to think she couldn’t handle this—but she wasn’t sure if she could really get through another night without sleeping—

The lights flickered, then went turned off, plunging the area in inky darkness so thick Elizabeth couldn’t even see her own fingers.

“Hello?” she called. “The lights—”

Then she heard footsteps and the clanking of metal as her cell opened. “Please—what’s wrong with the lights—”

A hand clamped over Elizabeth’s mouth and then something pricked her arm. “What—” Her head felt whoozy—everything started to spin—

Then she remembered nothing else.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Did Diane say anything about when she expects the appeal to be heard?” Brenda asked as Jason shrugged into his leather jacket the next morning. “Will the PCPD let you see her today?”

“They better,” he muttered. He needed to look at her for longer than five minutes, to hold her hand, to touch her—to be sure she was okay. The phone on his desk rang. “Yeah? What—”

“I’m sorry, Jason, the DA and the Comissioner wouldn’t wait—they said they had a warrant—”

“Damn it,” Jason muttered. He slammed the phone down and picked it up to call Diane. “The cops are on their way up,” he told Brenda. “Probably to arrest me—”

“But—”

There was a harsh knock, almost a pounding. Jason held out his phone. “Finish calling Diane,” he told Brenda, then went over to the door.

He barely had it open before Scott shoved his way in, followed by a more subdued Mac.

“Where the hell is she?” the district attorney spat out. “Where did you take her? I swear to God, Morgan, I will haunt you until the day you die—”

“What hell are you talking about?” Jason demanded as his blood began to pound in his ears. “Elizabeth’s at the PCPD—” he looked at Mac.

“When we did the count this morning,” the commissioner said, feeling slightly sick, “she was missing. Elizabeth is gone. And judging by the look on your face—” he sighed, “I’m guess she’s not on her way to Dubai.”

March 28, 2021

This entry is part 27 of 27 in the Flash Fiction: A King's Command

Written in 52 minutes.


Jason abandoned the horse almost as soon as he had rode into the woods—the trees were too tightly clustered together—he couldn’t take the risk the horse would step wrong and throw him—he had to get to his wife—had to get to Elizabeth—

He heard a scream—Elizabeth’s scream—and then it cut off abruptly. Jason’s head turned sharply and he fought to focus in the inky darkness. If he chose the wrong route—if he went in the wrong direction—he’d never get a second chance.

So he listened for just one extra precious moment, listening for the sounds of movement, of bodies, of any evidence—

And heard branches breaking, heard another short grunt—more screaming—his direction assured, Jason started to move.

Elizabeth fought Stavros every step of the way—she dug at him with her nails, with her fingers, with her legs, kicking and scrambling wildly as he pulled her across the clearing, wrapping his hand around a chunk of her hair.

She wasn’t going to go quietly, she wasn’t going to go without a fight—

But this man—this man she had only met less than a day ago—seemed to be imbued with superhuman strength. He grunted and ignored all her kicks, her screams, her jabs and scrapes. She knew he was hurt—knew Johnny had landed a few hits—

But whatever righteous hatred beat in his chest was fueling him, keeping him standing—giving him strength as he hauled her over the wood pile and shoved her against the wooden pyre.
“Please, stop, stop, stop!” Elizabeth sobbed. She raised her voice again. “Help!”

“Shut up,” Stavros grunted as he roughly pulled her arms behind her back and tied them, the coarse rope biting into her skin. Then he shoved some cloth into her mouth. “But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts,” he hissed, “the idolaters and all liars—they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur.”

He stepped back and did something with his hands, with a piece of wood and then suddenly the night was lit with bright flames, illuminating the twisted expression of the man who was going to kill her.

“This is the second death—” Stavros began as he lifted the torch high in the air. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live—”

He was tackled from the side as a dark blur appeared out of nowhere, the torch went flying and Elizabeth kept screaming, the cloth finally falling out of her mouth—the flames licked at some of the kindling—

And the woodpile around her went up in flames.

Elizabeth kicked and kept screaming, even as voice went hoarse and disappeared—she twisted and pushed against the ripe—

“M’lady, m’lady—” She could scarcely hear the worried cries of Max, one of Jason’s men, as he climbed over the woodpile towards her, the flames licking at him. He hissed as a piece of his shirt ignited, batting it out. “I’ll get you out, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to set the fire—”

Elizabeth felt the ropes loosen around her wrist just as Stavros pushed himself up and looked at them, his face twisted in rage. “No!” he roared. “She must pay!” He launched himself at the Highlander and the two of them rolled down the woodpile. Elizabeth struggled to free herself from the rest of the rope, but her hands were twisted and the flames were inching closer—

The bottom of her skirt caught and Elizabeth could feel the heat on her skin, as the rest of the pile became engulfed—Oh, God, Oh, God, this was how it was going to end—she was going to burn—

And then she was free—flying through the air, landing with a grunt against the hard ground and then being rolled.

“Are you burned?” Jason demanded, running his hands up and down her body, checking her legs, checking her feet— “Elizabeth!”

“You—” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face against him. “You came. You found me—”

“Are you burned?” he repeated, his voice hoarse.

“I don’t—” Elizabeth shoved Jason away from her as a a dark figure lurched behind him, a large branch in his hand. Stavros grunted as his hit landed in the ground between them and Jason scrambled to his feet as Elizabeth tried to crawl away. Stavros grabbed her foot and started to drag her again, dragging her towards the flames—towards the inferno—

Then her foot was free and she rolled over to see her husband and Stavros on the ground, rolling, punching, and kicking—she couldn’t even—

Elizabeth got to her feet, sobbing, looking around for anything that could turn the tide, that would give her a chance to save him—she wouldn’t run, wouldn’t hide in the trees, not again—

She spied the branch Stavros had used on the ground and picked it up—she watched the fight—she didn’t want to hit her husband—

“You will not stop me!” Stavros growled as he wrapped his hand around Jason’s neck, momentarily getting the advantage on the younger man. Jason grunted and was about to dislodge the insane bastard when Stavros cried out in pain and rolled off him.

Jason blinked, sitting up to see Elizabeth standing behind them, wielding the branch. He struggled to his feet, intending to take it from her, to finally end this—

But Stavros hurled himself up and launched himself at her—Elizabeth stepped aside—and Jason realized what she’d done—where she had positioned herself..

And so did Stavros—an instant to late. He tried to stop his forward motion, but he just stumbled and then—

He fell onto the pyre—his screams echoing in the night as his body was consumed—then they stopped, the only sounds in the night were the flickering of the flames, Elizabeth’s broken sobs, and Jason’s ragged breathing.

Elizabeth looked over at him, her face shadowed. Then she dropped the branch, ran at him, and threw herself into his arms. Jason caught her against him, pressing her tightly against him.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, harshly, his fingers tangled in her hair.

“N-No, I don’t—” She drew back and framed his face in her hands. “You came—”

“Always,” he promised her, then he took her mouth, drinking in her taste, her touch, her scent—the reassurance that she was still alive and in his arms— “Always.”

By the time Jason and Elizabeth returned the encampment, there was a crowd gathered around their tent. Jason handed the slightly injured Max off to one of his men before taking a deep breath. He’d known that Johnny’s wound was serious when he’d left him—

He wasn’t ready to see his oldest friend’s body.

“He sent Francis with the boys,” Elizabeth whispered softly. “He tried so hard—”

“I know he did—”

“J-Jason—” His sister’s anxious voice caught his attention, and he turned to find Emily with her cheeks tear-stained and the stone-faced man behind her.

Jason clenched his jaw. “Emily, you’re always welcome, but I think you’d best tell your husband to get out of my sight—”

“No—” Elizabeth shook her head and he swung around to look at her. Her eyes were ravaged and her voice hoarse from the screaming, the nails on her hands all but gone from the scratching and digging—

“Elizabeth—”

“He had nothing to do with what Stavros had planned.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, faced Nikolas and her sister-in-law. “Trust me.”

“I do,” Jason muttered. “But—”

“My father was insane,” Nikolas said with a hard swallow. “I knew he was devoted to the Church, but in the last few years, it became worse. But he never—there were always—he followed the law.”

“The law?” Jason bit out. “The law that says a woman can be burned or hung if one thinks her a witch?”

“I didn’t say I agreed,” Nikolas managed. “I just—I never—” He focused on Elizabeth, taking in her destroyed appearance. “I can’t—there are no amends that can be made.”

“No, there aren’t,” Jason said. “Excuse us.” He took Elizabeth by the elbow and found Milo at the front of the tent. “Did he suffer?” he asked the young man.

“Oh, m’lady, you’re all right!” Milo said brightly. “M’laird, the Camerons sent their healer—she says that Johnny might live.”

“He’s still alive?” Elizabeth demanded. Without another word, she flipped back the flap of the tent and was infused with joy at the sight of the burly Irishman stretched out on the palette. He was pale, but his chest was rising. “Oh—Jason—”

Jason helped Elizabeth take a seat before crouching next to Johnny. “Thank you,” he told the warrior. “You saved my family.”

Johnny opened his eyes, just slits. “She’s…you found her.”

“Because you slowed him down—thank you—” Elizabeth frowned when Jason stopped her from coming to his side. “I’m all right—”

“Rest,” Jason told Johnny. “We’ll leave for Braegarie in the morning.” He squeezed Johnny’s hand. “Thank you,” he repeated.”

“Aye, well, took me long enough to get used to her,” Johnny muttered. His eyes closed. “Don’t wanna break in another…lass…”

——

Elizabeth pushed Jason not to rest too long on the journey home—Johnny was following behind them, much more slowly—but she wanted to be back at Braegarie—she wanted to see her boys—

They reached the keep by the evening of the next day, and Elizabeth rushed right past Jason’s started aunt to the master bedroom.

“My lady!” Lulu’s eyes were wide as she took in Elizabeth’s scratched face and ruined hands. “Are you all right?”

“I am—” Elizabeth looked at bed where she found Cameron curled up in the furs, his face scrunched up in sleep. Jake was also sleeping peacefully, in the cradle where Lulu sat. Her boys were safe. “I’m fine. You can go for the night—”

“Aye, m’lady,” Lulu murmured as she slipped around Jason and left. Elizabeth stayed where she was, her feet fixed to the floor.

“Elizabeth?” He put a hand at the small of her back. “Let me call for Barbara—those scratches—” Jason took a hand in his, grimacing at the pain he knew she was hiding from him.

“They’re safe.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, tears sliding down her face. “It’s all I ever wanted. I wanted them to be safe.”

“They are. We all are,” he told her. Jason drew her into his arms, breathing easier when she relaxed against him. “I’ll call for a bath and for Barbara.”

“All right.” Elizabeth managed a smile, then looked up at him. “It’s over. I don’t—I don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I—I should have kept you home,” Jason muttered, but she shook her head.

“No. It was always going to happen,” Elizabeth told him. “Whether Stavros found out about me from Albany or some other way — he was Emily’s stepfather. It was always going to happen. If we’d stayed home this year, it would have been next year. I can see that now. I can feel it.” She took a deep breath. “The vision—the nightmares that followed—I was so sure I was seeing my death. I could feel the heat—”

“Elizabeth—”

“But I never saw how it ended. You came and you stopped it. You saved my life.”

“You saved mine, too,” Jason reminded her. He stroked her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She leaned up and kissed him lightly. “And I can’t wait to start the rest of our lives. We’re finally free.”

March 26, 2021

This entry is part 26 of 27 in the Flash Fiction: A King's Command

Written in  56 minutes. Did a spellcheck but not a reread.


Elizabeth watched numbly as the men remaining at festival completed the caber toss. She couldn’t remember what excuse she offered to Emily as to why Cameron had stayed behind with Francis at the tent, but her sister-in-law seemed to accept it.

Emily clapped happily as her husband strode out onto the field, having replaced Jason in the competition while Elizabeth tried very hard to avoid looking at the Cassadines just a few feet away—Stavros was so close, she could scarcely breathe.

She could feel Johnny behind her and tension radiating from Jason’s first in command was palpable. He was careful not to stand too close but neither did he let much space come between them. If Stavros made a move, Johnny was ready.

She was still practically vibrating, her mind racing, and everything inside screaming to run, to get her babies away from this man. To be safe behind the walls of Braegarie.

“Nearly done,” Johnny muttered behind her. “You’re doing well, my lady.”

“Not so bad for a Lowland lass,” Elizabeth said, reminding him of the first relatively nice thing he’d ever said to her nearly three years earlier when they’d traveled from Edinburgh. She flashed him a smile full of nerves and he just raised a brow.

“You survived a Highland winter and you’ve given our laid two strong sons. I think it’s safe to call you a Highland woman,” Johnny said. His mouth tightened as the caber toss came to an end. “Let’s head back to the camp site—”

“Oh, but Nikolas and his men won!” Emily said. She grabbed Elizabeth’s sleeve. “Won’t you want to celebrate with us?”

“I’m feeling a bit tired,” Elizabeth said. She flashed Emily a smile and avoided the prickle of unease as Stavros joined them. “And the boys are napping. Cameron can be disoriented when he wakes from a nap.”

“Oh, well, then come by the camp later,” Emily offered.

“Yes. With Morgan gone to help Camerons, you must let us look out for you,” Stavros said.

“That’s why he left me,” Johnny said, stepping slightly in front of Elizabeth. “And I can look out for my lady quite well enough. Excuse me.” He took Elizabeth by the elbow and drew her away without another word.

“I thought we were trying not to draw attention to us,” Elizabeth said, feeling a strange spurt of amusement trickle through her anxious terror. It felt almost ridiculous to want to laugh, but maybe that was the hysteria.

“I also don’t like him and he knows it,” Johnny replied. “I’m Jason’s first in command. It’s insult to suggest that I can’t protect you.” They rounded the hill and found Francis and some of the other men milling in front of the tent. Elizabeth’s heart began to race in relief — Francis looked almost relaxed which meant the boys were safe inside.

“If Jason isn’t back by nightfall,” Elizabeth said, “I want you to split us up.”

Johnny scowled. “What—”

“I’ll stay with you or Francis, but send the boys home separately.” She swallowed hard. “They come first, Johnny. And if Stavros comes for me, I don’t want the boys anywhere near. He’ll be focused on me. Please.”

Johnny grimaced, but didn’t respond.

“How was the competition?” Francis asked. “The boys woke a little while ago,” he told Elizabeth, “but Lu was able to get little Jake back to sleep. Cameron was looking for you.”

“I’ll see to him.” She ducked beneath the flap.

“Johnny?” Francis prompted.

“Jason should have realized by now that I’m not following,” Johnny said. “I was supposed to have met with him, and I would have caught up already. I’m hoping he’s on his way back now.”

“And if he’s not—”

“If he’s not—” Johnny turned and looked towards the edge of the lake. They couldn’t see the Cassadine encampment, but he could picture it in his mind. Stavros might have been insulting Johnny with the invitation to look out for Elizabeth, but there had been a look in his eye that had sent shivers down his spine—and Johnny O’Brien didn’t scare easily.

“If he’s not,” Johnny repeated, “then you’ll take Francis, Lu, and two of your best men quietly with the boys. You’ll head for Braegarie.”

“Johnny—”

“Elizabeth and I will go over to the camp to distract them,” Johnny continued. “I want the boys away from here as quickly as possible. If you travel through the night, you’ll be home by mid-day tomorrow.”

“And you and Elizabeth will follow?”

“I’ll take her another route,” Johnny continued. “She wants the boys safe, and that means I can’t risk Stavros running into you if he comes after her. We’ll distract him for a few hours while you get safely on the road. She’s right. If he’s looking for her, he’ll leave the lads alone.”

Francis’s lips thinned, but he nodded. “Aye, that sounds like the safest best. You and Elizabeth will be able to move more quietly and quickly on your own.”

“Aye, the rest of the encampment will stay here. No one will even know we’ve left until the morning. I’ll leave Milo behind with a note for Jason if he returns.” Johnny took a deep breath. “He’ll never forgive himself if anything happens to her. Not after he pushed her to come to this festival.”

“Nothing will happen,” Francis said confidently. “We’ll get Elizabeth and the boys back to Braegarie, and then Jason can hunt this animal down and end the threat for good.”

“Has your man abandoned you?” Alexander Cameron demanded, almost good-naturedly as he and Jason left the barn where David Hume and his wife had been hiding out from de la Bastie. “He should have found us by now—”

“Aye, he should have. We settled out David and Alison here just two weeks ago,” Jason admitted. “He knew where we were going.” He exhaled slowly. “There might be trouble. He wouldn’t have left if there was—” He’d had to leave his family behind—it was his duty—but the only reason Johnny wouldn’t have followed is if there was a threat to them.

Had Elizabeth’s nightmare come true? Had one of the boys fallen ill?

“Then we should get back to the festival grounds,” Alexander said, reading the expression on Jason’s face. “You’ve done your duty by us and the Humes. It’s our turn to do the same.”

Elizabeth did her best to smile and enjoy the evening by the Cassadine encampment, though she knew with the rise of the moon in the sky that her sons were already on their way home.

She’d kissed and hugged them both fiercely, praying this wasn’t the last she’d see of them. She knew Johnny would do his best to get her home safely—she knew Jason was probably already on his way back—

“Are you missing my brother that much?” Emily teased as she sat down next to Elizabeth. “Johnny should relax. I’m sure Stavros was just having fun with him earlier—” She eyed the scowling Irishman who was less than three feet from them. “It’s the last night of the festival. He should go have a good time—”

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “He takes his duties very seriously. And I’m only a few months from childbed,” she reminded Emily who flinched slightly. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, of course. It’s quite fine. Nikolas—he tells me it’s all right, and I believe him.” Emily took a deep breath. “But is it wonderful?” she asked wistfully. “Being a mother?”

“Aye,” Elizabeth said, tears stinging her eyes. “‘Tis the hardest thing I’ve ever done but the most amazing at the same time. Cameron—I love to watch him following Jason. He wants to do everything, be everything—he’s so impatient to grow up.” She closed her eyes, picturing the face of her eldest son, with his sunny blond hair and bright blue eyes.

They were gone from her — vanished like they had in the dream. Jason had gone first, then the boys. Was this how it would start?

“I hope one day that I’ll be able to have it,” Emily said. “Not just for Nikolas and his family, but for me. I want to be a mother. More now that I’ve seen Jake and Cameron. You and my brother are so happy. You’re a family. I want that.”

“You’ll have that,” Elizabeth told her. “Families come in all shapes and forms, Emily. But I know you’ll have what you deserve.”

“Lass—” Johnny murmured. “We should—”

“Aye.” Elizabeth rose to her feet, hoping that the anxiety and worry in her eyes didn’t show when Stavros also rose to his feet from across the fire pit. “Thank you so much for the meal—”

“Do you need to go already?” Emily said, with a pout. “We’ll all be leaving in the morning.”

“I’m still—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “My son is young,” she said, raising her voice slightly as Stavros came closer. “And I need to see to him.”

“Oh, aye—” Emily nodded. “I’ll come by in the morning. I hope Jason is back by then.”

“So do I,” Elizabeth said. She smiled brightly, then hugged her sister-in-law. “You mustn’t tell anyone,” she murmured in her ear. “Promise me you’ll keep this to yourself—you’ll be with child by the end of the year.”

Emily blinked at her as she pulled back, her eyes widening. She nodded. “I’ll write,” she said, faintly. “And I will listen to what you’ve said.”

“Elizabeth,” Johnny said, taking her by the elbow. Elizabeth followed him and said nothing until they had rounded the hill that separated the encampments.

“Did Francis get on his way when he was supposed to?” Elizabeth asked numbly.

“Aye. I saw the signal from Milo. He’ll have been on the road for hours already. He took the best of our men, Elizabeth. The boys couldn’t be safer.”

“Thank you. For doing as I asked.” When they reached the tent, she stopped to look at him. “When do you want us to make our escape?”

“I want to wait for some of the celebrations to dim a bit more. Most are still going strong,” Johnny said, scanning the area. “And I’m hoping Jason will be back sooner rather than later. He should be on his way now. The Humes were maybe two hours away—” He looked at her, but she couldn’t read his expression in the shadows of the night. “This would be a great time for you to get a vision, lass, and tell us how this ends.”

“I wish I could,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, “but the Sight has never been predictable. I wish we could slip away now.”

“Aye, but we want to make sure we’re gone in the cover of the night. I can cover our tracks better.” He flipped the tent flap and gestured for her to go inside. “Go inside, lass. I know you won’t be able to sleep, but try to rest. We’ll be walking through the night.”

Elizabeth flashed him a grim smile and disappeared inside the tent. Johnny slid the flap back in place and turned around, scanning the area around him. Their encampment was surrounded by Camerons and Frasiers, many of whom had either gone with Alexander and Jason or were at the main festivals.

He’d wait maybe thirty minutes to be sure — but he knew Stavros wouldn’t want to chance running into Jason and this—the last night of the festival was the best time to attack. Johnny just hoped Stavros would wait until the wee hours when they were supposed to be sleeping.

But Stavros had watched the interaction between the witch and her protector all day—since the moment O’Brien had stayed behind, he’d known something was wrong. When he’d let the witch come to the meal—Stavros had been convinced.

The woman must have sensed his righteousness, his conviction and dedication to the Lord. Albany and de la Bastie might want her delivered to Sterling, but Stavros had an obligation to God to rid the world of evil.

He went around to the back of the encampment, around the other side of the hill, careful to keep his steps light, the claymore tight in his grasp. He would get the witch away from the protector and take her to the woods where he’d assembled his pyre.

He was looking forward to hearing her screams as the evil was purged from her body.

He crept up behind the tent—but was nearly ten feet away when O’Brien swung around and growled. He flipped the tent flap back —

“Run!” he grunted then he launched himself at Stavros who hissed as a dark shadow lurched out of the tent, stumbling and falling over herself. He shoved the warrior aside but O’Brien was quicker—younger—he found himself on his back, his fingers scrambling and reaching for the claymore that had been knocked from his hand.

Johnny reared back with his own weapon but before he could plant the killing blow, Stavros flashed up with a dagger from inside his shirt and shoved it into Johnny’s gut. The other man fell back, grunting but then slugged Stavros hard in the side of the head—

His head was swimming, little pinpricks of light—he could hear screams and grunts from around him—but he had to get his feet—he had to get to the witch before she could escape—

“You’ll never find her—”

Stavros cut off Johnny’s boast as he shoved his claymore into the Irishman—much deeper than the dagger thrust. Johnny fell back, and Stavros didn’t even wait to see if it was a mortal blow. He was on his feet and running into the woods.

Time to burn the witch.

Johnny rolled over on his back, fire in his gut, blood on his lips. He stared up at the night sky, tears of rage in his eyes. He’d promised Jason he’d protect his family—

He heard a roar—horses were galloping—

“Where is—”

Someone skidded in the dirt beside him and Johnny felt himself being lifted up to see Jason’s panicked face.

“Stavros,” Johnny managed. “Sent boys away, but she’s—she’s alone. Running. Tried to stop—”

“My laird, my laird—” Milo Giambetti came up behind them. “Max went after my lady, before the Cassadine—”

“I’m sorry—” Johnny managed even as his vision grayed. “Tried to stop him.”

“Aye, aye, get him help,” Jason told Milo as he got to his feet and took off, swinging himself back onto the horse.

Johnny turned to watch his best friend and brother gallop away and hoped he wouldn’t be too late. Then he closed his eyes.

She was running, she was running so fast her lungs were burning and still she knew she couldn’t get away—he were going to find her— he were going to take her—she wasn’t going to be able to get away—they would find her—Oh, God, was Johnny all right? Was he alive?—

Her foot caught on a root and she went flying—waves of pain vibrating up her leg as Elizabeth tried to get to her feet, planting the palms of her hands against the ground, trying to raise herself up—

The moment she put weight on her ankle, she cried out—and then hissed, because now he find her—

“Did you really think you could run—”

Elizabeth rolled over on her back, her eyes wide as she saw him—”Why?” she choked out. “Why are you doing this?”

Stavros knelt beside her, took Elizabeth’s chin in his hand, his fingers digging into her skin. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.”

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her, Elizabeth sobbing, her breath harsh and ragged as she tried to move her legs. If she could just get away—if she could just stop it—

She felt like he dragged her for hours, but it must have only been minutes before they reached a clearing. Stavros shoved her to the ground so that she was on her stomach, her face hitting the dirt. She raised her face just high enough to see the makeshift pile of wood with the tall wooden pole in the middle, strands of rope.

She screamed, and Stavros kicked her hard in the stomach, the wind rushing out of her. Elizabeth fell onto her back, gasping for air, staring up at the night sky.

She’d never see her boys again. Never see Jason. She’d never go home.

She was going to burn.