Written in 65 minutes.

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June 2000

She hit the ground hard, a heavy weight falling on top of her, the gravel beneath digging into the skin left bare by the hot pink tube top that had seemed like a great idea six hours earlier—

Elizabeth barely had time to cover her head with her hands before the last blast of gunfire exploded, and she heard the spark and sizzle of something electrical shorting out—tires squealed—

“Stay down—” The words were little more than hot air breathed against her neck, and then the weight pressing her down vanished. There were a few screams, some shouts, horns and cars braking on the nearby streets, but Elizabeth didn’t move. He’d told her stay still, and if there was one time to follow directions, it was when the guy who’d been shot at a thousand times told you not to move.

But then she was being lifted, rolled over, Jason’s hands wrapping around her biceps, pulling her to a sitting position, almost like a rag doll. Those hands kept moving, tracing down her sides. “Are you hit? Are you hurt?—”

Elizabeth finally raised her head, met his frantic eyes. “N-No—are you—”

“We have to get out of here.” He hauled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist when she stumbled, one of those platform wedges she loved so much having fallen off. She turned slightly, as if to find it. “What is it?’ he demanded.

“My s-shoe—” She swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she brought them up to rake her hands through her hair. “I c-can’t find my shoe—”

Another night flashed through her head. Being thrown to the ground. Her shoe was lost. The lights whirled around her and Elizabeth lost her breath for a minute, slapped at the hands holding her. “Don’t—” The breath vanished and she couldn’t form any more words. She just moved away, backing up, then falling—the height difference between her feet thanks to the missing shoe throwing her off balance.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jason knelt down, wincing, his expression still tense but his tone softer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—we just—” He raked his hands though his hair. “I have to get you somewhere safe. Okay? Please. They might come back, and you were with me. I don’t know—”

The lights swirled again, and Elizabeth took a deep breath. She sat up, kicked off her remaining platform. “I lost my other shoe somewhere,” she said. “I’m okay. Let’s go.” Jason stood, wincing again, and held out his hand, pulling her to her feet.

“I’ll buy you a dozen pairs, but—”

“No, we can go. I can go. We’re okay.” It wasn’t two years ago. It wasn’t cold beneath her back. She could do this. “Let’s go,” she said.

—

He’d scared her, Jason realized. Throwing her to the ground, hauling her around like a sack of coffee. He hadn’t meant to do that, and if he’d taken his time, if he’d just thought about it, they might not have wasted precious minutes standing here—

Time he really didn’t have as the fire in his side only burned hotter, blood dripping, clinging to his skin, sliding down. He just had to get her to Sonny. If he could get to Sonny, she’d be safe, and it didn’t matter what happened to him.

Her eyes had cleared of that terrible look, and Jason hurried her over to the bike, handing her the helmet, clenching his teeth when he swung his leg over the side, and he nearly bit his tongue when Elizabeth’s hand slid past the wound.

“Jason—are you okay—”

“I’m fine. We have to go.” He switched on the ignition, and she tightened her hold on him. He roared out of the parking lot, just seconds ahead of the police sirens. The PCPD would come find them eventually, but not until he’d made sure Elizabeth was safe.

——

There was something terribly wrong. Elizabeth knew it even as they raced away from Luke’s, towards the buildings where she knew he and Sonny lived at Harborview Towers, but she thought it was his worry, his obvious fear that whoever had taken those shots would come back.

When they pulled into a spot in the parking garage, Elizabeth drew hands back, unsnapped the helmet, and swung her leg over the side. She set the helmet on the back of the bike, then stared at her left hand, almost not registering the meaning of the red smeared across her skin.

With trembling fingers, she lifted her eyes to Jason slumped over the front of the bike, the black cotton T-shirt having masked the blood until they were in the bright lights of the garage.

“J-ason—” Elizabeth tugged at his shoulder. “Jason, you have to—oh my God—” All while he’d been checking on her, dragging her to safety, he’d been shot—”Jason, open your eyes, please—”

“Sonny.” Jason’s eyes, just a sliver of blue as he forced them open. “He’ll—” And then he slumped again, this time losing his balance, falling over into her, nearly taking the bike with him. Elizabeth gasped, wrapping her arms around his torso, shoving back with all her strength.

“Jason, you have to help me. I have to get you upstairs—” She twisted her head, frantically looking for someone, anyone. Why wasn’t anyone coming to help? Did she call, scream for help? Or would that get him in trouble?

She swallowed her sobs, shoved again, and somehow, someway, she was able to get Jason back into a sitting position, the bike teetering, but staying up. “Oh, God. Jason, you have to help me. Please. I—” She bit her lip. “I’m not safe yet, okay? I don’t know where to go. Where he lives.” She touched his face, her fingers softly combing through the hair just above his ear. “Jason. Please. I need your help.”

Jason stirred again, his eyes opened. “Eliza…”

“Hey. Hey, no, no, don’t close your eyes again—” She stroked his face. “Stay with me. Help me. I don’t know where to go. You can show me, can’t you? Where does Sonny live? I can—” She wound one of his heavy arms over her shoulder. “You got on the bike right? We can—we can get off the same way. Just lean on me.”

“Have to get upstairs—” He took a deep breath, slightly more conscious now, his words still slurred.

Somehow, maybe through a miracle from heaven, she got Jason off the bike, and once on his feet, he seemed to fall into autopilot. Step by step, towards the bank of elevators.

“Fifteenth floor.” Jason grunted, leaning against the concrete wall. He closed his eyes. “Sonny can send someone for me—”

“I got you this far,” Elizabeth muttered, jabbing the button again. “Don’t—” She darted forward, caught his arm over her shoulder again as he started to slump. “We’re almost there, okay? We’ll get upstairs and someone will be able to help.”

The elevator ride was the longest of her life, and Elizabeth couldn’t even begin to think about what she’d say if the car stopped along the way because there was no hiding the mangled mess of blood of Jason’s side, the blood streaked across her hands, his face, and probably hers now, too.

But the doors never opened until the top floor, until they’d reached the fifteenth floor. The car doors opened, and step by painful step, Elizabeth guided Jason out of the car, and into the hallway.

“I’ll go get help—” she started, but she could already hear footsteps, and a man in a dark suit came around, his eyes wide.

“Jason! Holy hell!”

The man raced back to the penthouse, shoved open the door. “Mr. C! Mr. C! Jason’s been shot!”

—

It wasn’t every day that Sonny found bleeding man on his doorstep, but it happened often enough that he didn’t even blink. He and Max half-carried, half-dragged Jason into the penthouse, Sonny barking at the terrified brunette to follow them. He didn’t think about her again until he’d settled Jason on a bed in the unused maid’s room on the first floor, and told Max to make a call to their doctor while he took stock of Jason’s injuries.

Entry and exit wound, so that accounted for the blood, Sonny thought, using a pair of scissors from the first aid kit to cut away the t-shirt around the wound.

“S-Sonny.”

Sonny grunted, not glancing up from applying pressure against the wound. “A little busy here.”

“Elizabeth.”

“She’s fine. Dragged your sorry ass up from the parking garage—how the hell did you get here from Luke’s?” Sonny demanded.

“Bike.” Jason clenched his jaw, and the pain ripped across his face. “Had to get her here. They—they waited.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone gone. Just me. Just her.” Jason reached forward, gripped Sonny’s shoulder. “Could—they could have waited for her to go, but they didn’t. You—you’ll make sure—”

“I’ll make sure she’s safe. You just focus on not dying on me, you got it? Leave the rest of it to me.”

—

Finally, their doctor arrived and Sonny was able to think about Elizabeth. He was a little impressed that rather than giving into instinct when Jason had started to pass out and calling 911, she’d brought him up here.

He found her in the kitchen, sitting on a stool at the island, staring her blood-streaked hands. Her curly hair hanging limply around her shoulders, her mascara and eyeliner had run enough to give her slight raccoon eyes, and there some light scratches and cuts along her shoulders.

Sonny took the stool across from her. “Well, this isn’t the way I wanted us to meet.”

He was rewarded when the corner of her mouth tugged upwards. “No, not really in the top five, I guess.”

“Sonny Corinthos. Thanks for getting him upstairs.” He tipped his head. “You didn’t wash your hands yet.”

“Didn’t want to until I knew—” She licked her lips, then finally met his eyes. “Is he okay? I mean, will he be okay?”

“Probably.” Sonny scratched his jaw. “He drove you here? On the bike?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t know he was hurt. He wouldn’t let me ask—I wouldn’t have let him leave that way—I would have refused—” Her eyes filled. “But he kept saying they might come back and he wanted me to be safe.”

“He was right. Until I know what happened, it’s better if you stay here. If that’s what you want.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Sonny went over to the sink. He wet a dishcloth, then brought it to her. “I’m sure this was a lot—”

“Not the worst night I’ve ever had,” she said softly. She wiped the blood from her hands, almost mechanically. “This is what he meant, isn’t it? Tonight. This is why he thinks he has to be alone.”

Surprised, Sonny took the stool next to her. “Maybe. Is that he said?”

“He said my face would change.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “That knowing what he does is one thing, but living with it is another, and this is what he meant. This feeling. Worried he might die. That’s going to happen again, isn’t it?”

Sonny considered very carefully how to answer her question. “It’s not like this every day,” he said finally. “But it’s also not not never. Not everyone wants to sign for it.” He waited for her to look at him. “Jason’s been through that,” he admitted, “with someone he loved very much. She promised she could handle it, and couldn’t. And also, to a lesser extent, with someone else who liked the power and money. I can understand him not wanting to do it again. To watch someone walk away. Or—not wanting you to go through it all.”

Elizabeth nodded, almost absently. “I told him we’d have to trust each other. There are things that terrify me, too. And I-I think I’m there. That I could—but he’s not ready.”

“He might not ever be ready. But it doesn’t really matter if you’re not. Jason’s a good guy who deserves to have someone special in his life. I know he cares about you.”

“The way I feel right now, this would happen again. He’ll go out, and I won’t know until I seem him again if he’s okay.” Elizabeth rose from the stool, went to the sink to rinse her hands. “Living with that uncertainty, it’s…”

“Too much?” Sonny asked.

“I don’t know.” She dried her hands, turned back to him. “Do I have to know that tonight? Is that a fair thing to ask when we don’t even know if this is anything more than just—” Her cheeks pinked up. “More than what it is. Maybe it’s just physical.”

“Do you believe that?”

“No,” she said softly. She looked at her hands again, clean though Sonny thought she might see the blood for the rest of her life. “I think it would be just easier if that’s all it was.”

“Maybe.” Sonny got to his feet. “I’m going to check on the doctor. You should call Emily. Let her know you’re both safe and you’ll call her in the morning.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Sonny was at the door when she called out his name. “Yeah?”

“Did I do the right thing? I mean, what he would have wanted me to do?”

“Jason wanted you to leave him on the floor of the parking garage and get to me so you’d be safe.” Sonny’s smile was slight. “Aren’t we both lucky that’s not the kind of woman you are?” Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away. “When the doctor’s done, if you want to stay with him, you can. I’ll find you some clothes.” He paused. “It was nice to meet you, Elizabeth.”

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