Tag Archives: ficlet

January 29, 2014

Inspiration

In August of 2003, when we had the last meaningful Liason interaction for many moons, Jason and Elizabeth comforted each other in the hospital chapel. Then they showed up the next day in the same clothes. I always wondered if they’d toyed with having them go with a one-night stand because it was strange that it faded to black and Liz was still in the same dress the next morning  — she even went straight to Jason’s penthouse.

Anyway. That scene inspired this.

Timeline

In August 2003, Emily’s cancer had taken a turn for the worse and she was not expected to survive the night. She married Zander on her deathbed, and Jason and Elizabeth found each other in the chapel.

Her smile is false and she knows it. She watches her best friend wed her first love with the knowledge that Emily loves another. Her closest friend is making the mistake Elizabeth has almost made before. Thinking that first love meant only love.

She brushes a tear from her cheek and wishes her friend happiness in the short time she has left. She clenches the white lily in her hands—she feels the stem snap with the force of her hold.

After a moment, she leaves the small hospital room, feeling out of place. She adores Emily and considers Zander a close friend, but they are newlyweds and she really just wants to be alone.

She wanders the hospital for a little while, stopping in front of the nursery for a moment. She touches the window with her fingers, her touch lingering for a few seconds. She closes her eyes and imagines her child—a daughter. With her father’s curling brown hair and maybe her mother’s blue eyes. She would have named her Audrey.

After another moment of wallowing, she opens her eyes and walks briskly away from the nursery, wiping her tears away. She has a destination in mind—a quiet place just to gather her thoughts and regain her composure before she returns to celebrate the wedding with Emily and her family.

She pushes the door to the hospital chapel open. It slides open with a heavy creak and she pauses for a moment, seeing the figure seated in the front pew. He’d ducked out after the ceremony as well but she’d assumed he’d gone home. To his newly returned fiancée and best friends.

He hears her come in and he turns to look at her. She folds her arms uncomfortably and briefly considers turning and leaving. But she had a right to be here, too. And…for the first time in so long, she doesn’t feel anything when she looks at him. No anger, no hurt, no bitterness.

She steps inside, letting the heavy door close behind her. He’s still looking at her even as she steps forward and sits next to him. The remains of her crushed lily are in her hands and she stares at it for a moment.

“Emily looked beautiful, didn’t she?” Elizabeth finds herself saying.

Jason nods. “She did.”

Elizabeth shifts and looks away. “I was surprised Courtney didn’t come with you.”

“She doesn’t know that Emily was getting married,” Jason tells her. “I…we haven’t spoken for a few days.”

Elizabeth frowns and before she can stop herself, she asks, “Why?”

Jason takes a deep breath and looks away, his eyes sad and distant. “Because she lied to me. She was pregnant, didn’t tell me. She came to South America, knowing she wasn’t supposed to. She was kidnapped and before I got to her, she miscarried and she never told me. She was never going to tell me at all.” He breaks off after the explanation and looks at his hands.

She sets her broken flower at her side and covers his hands with one of her own. She doesn’t say anything and after a moment, he looks up at her. He doesn’t speak either. She doesn’t need to say I’m sorry and he doesn’t need to accept it. They’ve never really needed words and it was nice to pretend for just one moment—on Emily’s wedding day and maybe in honor of the sister they shared—it was nice to pretend that they still didn’t.

Inspiration

If I recall correctly, this was in response to a challenge: What if Jason and Elizabeth had an affair? I was always interested in writing a story with that as the trope, but I was never sure if I could get it to work with their characters. Even here, I don’t go into the hows and whys very much. I did a decent job in For the Broken Girl, building to an emotional affair with light physical cheating (some kissing), but I fully believe an outright affair that goes on for months is outside of their character.

Timeline

Set in the summer of 2003, but before Ric kidnaps Carly. It’s kind of out of time and place. Jason and Courtney are together, so are Elizabeth and Ric. That’s really all that matters.

Banner

She always told herself it was the last time. Every time she’d open the door to him, she’d assure herself that after today, she’d tell him it was over. That…they couldn’t do this anymore. That something had to change.

But she never did. And she cherished every touch, every kiss, every caress knowing one day it would be over. That even though they both lacked the motivation and desire to do so, one day…it would end. And she’d only have the memories.

She sighed and stared at the ceiling of her studio. They never went to the bedroom—she knew the guilt that lived in her would be unbearable if this happened there. There was a small couch in there that they made do with.

She listened to the rustle as he dressed silently. She heard him pull his jeans over his legs and narrow waist. He zipped and buttoned them before searching for the black t-shirt he’d worn over.

She clutched the afghan higher on her chest and propped herself up on her elbow. “It’s behind the easel,” she said quietly.

He didn’t look at her, just nodded and headed across the room to pull the cotton shirt from the floor and he slid it over his head. He sat on her stool and pulled on his socks and boots.

“This can’t happen again,” he said.

“I know.”

A conversation they’d had more than once. It was always the same. They’d swear it wouldn’t happen again and then maybe a few days later or even hours later, he’d show up at her door and they’d barely make it to her studio before their clothes were gone and he was inside her.

But inevitably, it would be over and they would lay in silence for a few moments before he’d dress, tell her it couldn’t happen again, and then he’d leave.

And she’d start to cry.

It was a vicious circle, one that would destroy her one day, she was sure. But for now, she’d live for every single forbidden touch.

His hand was on the studio door—he was about to leave her again—but he stopped and turned and looked at her. She was staring right back at him. Just a few moments longer, she told herself. He’d be gone and she could let it go.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Familiar words but they were different this time. His voice was low, thin and nearly desperate. She swallowed hard and slid her feet to the ground, sitting up and wrapping the afghan more securely around herself. “Jason—”

“I can’t keep coming here…doing this…and hurting…” He stopped, averted his eyes from her. “We’re hurting people. And I never wanted to do that.”

He was right and she had the sinking feeling that this time, when he said this couldn’t happen again…that this time he really meant it.

She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to keep the tears from spilling over her lashes. “I know,” she choked. “Oh, God, we’re such horrible people.”

He crossed the room then and kneeled in front of her, pressing his forehead into her knees. “Elizabeth…we can’t keep doing this.”

“I know.”

He raised his bloodshot eyes to hers, stunning her with the desolation she saw in them. “I leave you every day and go back to the penthouse,” he told her quietly. “I look at Courtney and I feel like I’m choking. Because when she comes and she hugs me, and I feel her arms around me…I’m pretending that they’re yours.”

She bit her lip. “I know. Because I see Ric and when I feel his hands on my face, on my skin…I’m pretending it’s you.”

“I can’t…I can’t leave her,” Jason said, voicing what she knew to be true. “I can’t hurt her like that.”

“I can’t leave Ric,” she whispered. “He’s…he’s sick and I can’t do that to him.”

He nodded and clenched his hands around her own and held them tightly. “But I don’t think that I can walk away from you today and not come back.”

“We have to do something,” she breathed. “We can’t keep doing this Jason. The guilt is devouring us both. When does it get to be our turn to be happy?”

“Maybe we don’t get the chance.”

“But why?” she asked, desperately. The tears she’d been trying so hard to keep back spilled over her lashes and streamed down her cheeks. “Why did we do this to ourselves?”

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered. “I can’t…I can’t do this if you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she managed to say, clutching a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I just…I just can’t watch you walk away.”

He touched her face, stroked the curve of her jaw. ”I love you,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear him. “I love you with everything that I am.”

“I love you, too.” She slid forward until she was off the couch and practically in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his, as if a kiss would solve it all.

The kiss was soft and gentle—as if they were other people, normal people and they’d just professed their love for the first time. He pulled the afghan from her body, tossed it towards the floor and laid her down gently on it.

“I love you,” he whispered again. He brushed soft kisses over her face, her neck before finding her lips again.

Her hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He was quickly shed of the clothes he’d only just put back on.

“I need you,” she moaned, burying her face in his neck. “Please Jason.”

His hands explored her body, desperate to know every inch, every curve of her soft skin. He spread her legs easily and she drew one leg up to wrap around her waist. He slid deep inside her and she closed her eyes, feeling the connection for what she accepted would be the last time.

As Jason thrust—slowly at first—she felt the warmth of his own tears on her skin and she knew he knew it was the end, too. She threaded her fingers in his hair and moaned, fighting the release. Her walls started to tighten and she started to sob.

It was over in a few more minutes—not long after she gave in, he let go, too and they parted and lay sprawled out on the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

After another moment, she felt him stand and she closed her eyes, listening to the familiar sounds of him dressing. She kept her eyes closed and listened to the floorboards creaking.

“I have to go.”

“He’ll be home soon anyway.”

“Elizabeth, I…”

“I know, Jason. I know.”

It seems so wrong that something so beautiful should be hidden. Whether it’s a blood-red tulip covered in a surprise snow storm in April or a beautiful memory of a friendship forgotten in grief.

My mother used to tell me a story about a woman she’d known in her own youth. She died at an early age, this woman. But she’d been my mother’s best friend and closer than a sister.

It pained my mother to speak of her, but I could never get enough of the story. I once found an old faded picture in an album. My father cautioned me never to show it my mother, for it would only serve to make her cry.

She was beautiful, with soft dark hair and porcelain skin. She stood in a garden, laughing with a younger version of my mother and a man I’d seen in other pictures. My mother’s brother, an uncle whom I’d never met.

The story my mother told was always the same, about how the woman had convinced my mother to tell the truth. My mother had breast cancer as a young woman and she’d been ready to die. Her friend had discovered the truth by accident and had convinced my mother to tell the truth. Eventually, she’d received treatment, thanks to her friend and she’d been able to marry my father.

I once begged my father to tell me the story about her death and why it made my mother sad to think about her. He’d been reluctant to tell me since the woman had been a good friend of his as well.

But he’d wanted me to know more about her and why she’d mattered so much. So he told me. The woman had found herself in a situation where she knew of a man who wanted to kill my mother’s brother. My father told me that the woman and my uncle had once been together, and that they loved each other despite their differences.

She went to my uncle to tell him of the threat, but he had his pride and he turned her away. She followed him and begged for him to believe her. He gave in and told her that she needed to leave, that she needed to be safe.

She agreed, only because she was frightened of the man who wanted to kill my uncle. He put her on a plane for a private island, and she told him that she loved him before she left.

The plane had been piloted by someone who worked for the man and he shot the woman just after the plane took off. My uncle was devastated and once the threat had been taken care of, he left town.

My father says my mother gets letters from him still. He says that he will never return home until he is ready to be buried beside the woman who’d lost her life for him.

My father and mother loved her dearly and still grieve for her now. Which is why I suppose they named me for her.

I often wonder why my mother does not speak of her more. One would think she’d be desperate to pass on her memory to the daughter she’d named her for. But the only words I hear of her are the one story and what I can beg from my father.

It seems so wrong that a woman such as her should be forgotten and lost in my mother’s memories. She was beautiful, both in body and in spirit. Why should her memory be hidden like the tulips in my great-grandmother’s garden during a snowstorm?

Perhaps I should seek out the uncle who loved her so deeply, that nearly twenty years after her death, he has yet to return to the place she once lived.

But if it pains my mother to speak of it, then I would think it would be twice as painful for him. Or maybe it would help to speak of her?

My father says that it is foolish. That my mother doesn’t talk about her because it hurts to remember what could have been. That she might have had a sister, and that they might have raised a family together. He warns me to leave my uncle alone, that his memories are not to be used to serve my curiosity.

And I’m left to wonder why Elizabeth Webber touched my family so deeply in the time they knew her and how she would have changed my life if she’d lived.

Prompt: Stay

When he’d first followed the tiny VW Bug, Officer Jason Morgan had no idea that he was about to pull over the very irate pregnant wife of the police commissioner, Ric Lansing.

And now her car had quit and Mrs–Miss Webber, he automatically corrected, was very much in labor.

“Okay, just–just stay right there,” Jason told her. He ripped his radio off his belt. “Dispatch, I need bus at my location. Now.”

“What’s the emergency officer?” a crackling voice came back over the static.

“I’ve got a female in labor,” Jason replied. He stepped towards Elizabeth Webber and kneeled in front of her. “How far along are you, ma’am?”

“Eight months,” Elizabeth bit her lip and tightened her hand around her steering wheel. “Oh man, oh man, this really hurts.”

“Keep her calm, officer. Bus is en route. ETA twenty minutes.”

He hooked the radio back on his belt and took a deep breath. “I–I, uh, never been in this situation before Miss Webber. Do–do you know how close you are to delivery?”

“Do I look like a doctor?” she screeched.

“Okay, maybe I should just get you in my car and get you to the hospital myself,” Jason said hesitantly. He reached for her hand. “Miss Webber?”

She took his hand and just as he started to pull her to her feet, another contraction slammed into her and she nearly hit the ground. Jason braced her weight in his arms and kept her standing. “Keep a hold on me, okay?”

Elizabeth nodded fervently and bit her lip as they started to move towards his police car. Jason took his radio back out. “Dispatch, cancel that bus. The female seems to be in advanced labor and I am transporting her to the hospital.”

“Ten-four.”

He settled her in the passenger side of his car just as another contraction ripped through her. “Oh God, they’re coming so fast, that’s not good!” In her pain, she gripped his arm so tightly he nearly yelped. “I don’t think I’m going to make it to the hospital,” Elizabeth whimpered.

“Y-you have to, Miss Webber. I’m not equipped to deliver a baby,” Jason said, panicked.

“M-maybe you should see if the baby’s coming,” Elizabeth suggested.

Jason paled. “Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m in a position to kid?” Elizabeth demanded. “You’re a cop, you’re supposed to…like help me aren’t you?”

“Uh yeah.” Jason swore under his breath and made a promise to never pull over another female driver for the rest of his career. He reached for her legs and maneuvered them out of the car. “So…I just look right?”

“I don’t know, this is my first kid,” Elizabeth retorted.

“Right, right.” Jason hooked his fingers on the buttons of her jeans and slid the zipper down. “This feels so wrong,” he muttered. He tugged the jeans over her hips.

“Okay, what am I looking for?” Jason asked her, not wanting to look down there unless he absolutely had to.

“A baby’s head,” Elizabeth said with a glare. “Look, this isn’t exactly the my idea of the perfect delivery–you know–a strange man looking at my goodies so why don’t you just cut the shy act and help me, okay?”

“Right.” Jason glanced and closed his eyes. “So I think the kid’s gonna have your hair color.”

Elizabeth blinked. “What?”

“Dark hair I mean…I see the baby,” Jason told her. “Okay, okay…I can do this. I’ve seen it on television, you know?”

“Oh dear God,” Elizabeth wailed. Another contraction wracked her body and she started to cry. “Oh, I really wanted drugs. I want drugs!”

Realizing that he would have to deliver this baby, Jason took a deep breath and yanked her jeans and panties all the way down. He tugged off her sneakers and now she was nude from the waist down. “Okay, I think if you push with the contractions–that’s supposed to help, right?”

“I think so,” Elizabeth grunted.

“So…next one, you’re going to push,” Jason nodded decisively. He reached into his glove compartment and took out a bottle of water. “You want some of this?”

She nodded eagerly reached for it. She downed half the bottle in one thirsty gulp. “This isn’t fair,” she whimpered. “This was supposed to be a happy day with me and Ric and our families and instead I’m on the side of the road with a police officer I don’t even know…”

“Well, Miss Webber, this isn’t my idea of a good day either but I’m going to do my best for you and your baby,” Jason promised her.

“Oh…oh…ow, here it goes again,” Elizabeth moaned.

“Okay, now is a good time to push,” Jason told her. “Go!”

Elizabeth grunted and after a few more minutes, the head pulled through. Jason braced his hands on it, keeping it steady. “The head’s out,” he reported. “Keep pushing, Elizabeth, I hear once the shoulders are out, it’s all down hill from there.”

Her face red and sweaty, Elizabeth gritted her teeth and gave one more push, forcing the baby’s shoulders out. Jason easily slid the rest of the baby’s body out and cradled the slimy little body against his uniform. “It’s a boy,” he told her with a smile as Elizabeth’s son started to wail. “Reminds me of you already.”

Elizabeth’s tears started again in full force as she reached for her son. Jason hesitated. “The umbilical cord,” he told her. “We need to cut it and there’s placenta and stuff, right?”

“Right,” Elizabeth nodded. She sat up and took off her shirt, revealing a tank top underneath. “Here–he needs to stay warm.”

Jason took it from her and wrapped the baby in it. “I need the first aid kit from the glove compartment. “There are some scissors in there.”

A few moments later, he’d cut the cord and the placenta had been disposed off. He managed to get her jeans back on and handed her the baby. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

—

A few hours later, Jason knocked on her open hospital door. His uniform was gone–replaced by jeans and a t-shirt. “Miss Webber?”

“Officer Morgan,” Elizabeth said with a smile. She had her son in her arms and a pretty brunette was seated next to her. “Emily, this is the cop that delivered Steven.”

“Oh, thank God you were there,” the girl named Emily declared. “The doctors say that both Elizabeth and Steven are in great health.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t screw it up,” Jason remarked honestly. “But I think I’ve sworn off female drivers for the rest of my life.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Have you seen your husband yet, ma’am?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “If that jackass comes within five miles of this room, I’ll kill him. And…call me, Elizabeth?” Her blue eyes sparkled. “After all…you’ve seen me half-naked.”

Prompt: Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

Furious, she pressed on the gas pedal, spurring her much abused car to leap ahead a little bit.

“No good son of a bitch,” she muttered. She ignored the stop sign and sped ahead, angry words hissing through her teeth like steam rising from a tea kettle. “When I find him, I’ll kill him.”

Ignoring the blares of the horns and the yells of outraged drivers, Elizabeth Webber breezed through a red light.

Predictably, she soon noticed the familiar red flashing lights behind her. “Is there no justice?” she screeched. Pulling the car to a sudden and abrupt halt, the police car behind her was forced to swerve off the road in order to avoid crashing into the back of her ancient hatchback.

She threw the car into park and launched herself out of the car, murder on her mind. “Do you have a problem?” she demanded, hotly.

The police officer threw open his door and stalked towards her, his blue eyes cold as ice. “Have you lost your mind lady?”

“Yes!” Elizabeth threw her hands up in the air. “Yes! Can’t you tell? I only broke a thousand traffic laws back there! Obviously I’m in a hurry!”

“You were going fifty in a twenty, you lunatic,” the officer growled. “You ran three stop signs and two red lights. Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”

“To take a baseball bat to my husband’s knees,” Elizabeth hissed. She reached inside her car and withdrew the object in question. A good old fashioned wooden bat. The officer took a step back and she rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, the only person I’m going to be injuring is that fuck ass.”

He reached forward and grasped the bat. “Give me it,” he directed.

“No.” She yanked it back. “That son of a bitch is going to know pain when I’m done with him!”

“Okay, okay.” He set his notepad on the top of her car. “Look, I can see that you’re very angry but that’s no reason to put the lives of everyone else on road at risk.”

Elizabeth hesitated, her eyes darting back to the last intersection she’d just come through. “Sorry.”

“Well…sorry’s not going to be good enough.” The officer reached behind him and she paled, seeing he was going for his handcuffs.

“Look, okay maybe I was a little out of hand, you know? I was pissed–a-and just going on instinct.” Elizabeth set the baseball bat down on the road. “I’ll take the ticket, the fine whatever–”

“I’m sorry, Mrs.–”

“Miss Webber, I didn’t take his name,” she retorted. Taking a deep breath. “Okay, I know I’m probably guilty of reckless driving and all of that good stuff and you have every right to be mad at me because I’ve been acting like a serious madwoman but really–there’s no need to…” she swallowed hard, her eyes trained on the silver bracelet-shaped objects in his hands.

“It’s the law–”

“He’s been cheating on me,” Elizabeth said desperately, “And it’s with my sister, you know? I mean, that’s going to piss anyone off, right?”

“Well, yeah–”

“And it’s been going on since before we were married. And that’s like five years we’re talking about,” Elizabeth continued, her words coming quickly, her face becoming flushed from the strain. “Seriously, if you run my license and my name–I have no tickets, no record, really.”

With a sigh, the officer tucked the cuffs back into his pocket and pulled the cap off his head, wiping his forehead with his forearm. “Here’s what I’m going to do, Miss Webber. I’m going to take your word on it. You don’t seem like the type to do this kind of driving normally, okay? Just…do me a favor and go home.”

Elizabeth sighed and ran her hands through her hair, the sides of her bulk coat parting, revealing her to be in an advanced state of pregnancy. “I don’t have a home,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry–what?”

“I don’t have a home,” Elizabeth bit out, her eyes flashing. “He locked me out of the house.”

“Okay, we’ll just get a locksmith–”

“You obviously don’t know who my husband is–” her eyes flicked down to the little name tag beneath his badge, “–Officer Morgan.”

Officer Jason Morgan frowned. He knew from the moment she’d leapt out of the car that she’d looked familiar. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth agreed with a bemused smile. “You probably know him.”

“Commissioner Richard Lansing,” they said together.

“Okay…” Jason cocked his head to the side. “Okay, so what about a friend’s house?”

“The only friend I had in this godforsaken town was my sister–and if I go there, you’d better believe someone’s not coming out.”

“Well…we’ve got another problem.” He gestured to where her car had just conked out. She’d left it running but it had just…stopped. With a loud huff.

“Oh…no…” Elizabeth sat down, her legs dangling into the street. She turned the ignition off and then tried to start again. “Come on–ow!”

Concerned he started forward at her outcry of pain. “Are you okay?”

“Must be Murphy’s Law,” Elizabeth said through clenched teeth. She took a few deep breaths. “You know–where everything that can go wrong…will go wrong?”

“Yeah?”

“My water just broke.”

“Oh. Well…shit.”

Timeline & Inspiration

Set vaguely after Elizabeth left the penthouse in 2002, like close to the end of the year in November or December but it’s not really important. This was written as Canvas Flash Fiction Challenge, written in 60 minutes. The prompt was: Power is the ability to walk away from something you desire to protect someone you love. It’s kind of crazy to look back and see how much shorter my Flash Fiction 60 minute entries were. I’m much faster now, LOL.

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“I’m sorry.”

“Goodbye.”

They were words that had ceased to have meaning for Elizabeth Webber. She’d heard them so many times over the past three years. From her parents. From her friends. From everyone in her life.

Her mother was sorry they missed her ballet recital–Sarah had to go shopping for her Homecoming dress. Her father was sorry he’d missed the concert in which she had a Christmas solo–Steven had a ice hockey game.

Her parents were always sorry when they passed her over for Sarah and Steven. They were always apologetic and they tried to find ways to make it up to her. Mostly through gifts and money.

Material possessions and money became the way Elizabeth measured her parents love. The more she received, the more they loved her. It didn’t matter that they never said they loved her or that they were always too busy with Sarah and Steven to really care about her.

They’d said goodbye when leaving her at the Johnsons. They’d been offered the chance of a lifetime–to take care of soldiers in Bosnia. They’d always wanted to make a difference. Steven was in college by the time this happened, Sarah a senior in high school and Elizabeth a sophomore.

They’d only be gone a year–they’d keep in touch.

She didn’t see them again. A year in Bosnia led to one in Switzerland which led to two in Russia. After that, they decided they preferred Europe and were going to stay. Steven and Sarah decided they preferred Europe as well.

Elizabeth Webber lived alone in a cold and drafty studio. Her only family–her grandmother Audrey Hardy—had a massive coronary on Christmas Eve and died in the early hours of December 27.

She had no one else in the small town of Port Charles, save for a few friends and a couple of former friends.

She’d been sitting at Audrey’s bedside when she heard the news that Brenda Barrett and Jasper Jacks had fled the jurisdiction. Jax couldn’t be prosecuted for the murder of Luis Alcazar and Brenda wouldn’t have to testify.

She’d been making the funeral arrangements for Audrey when the murder charges were dropped and the divorce for both Jax and Brenda came through. Skye had a change of heart or something along those lines and had granted the divorce. Jason Morgan signed the divorce papers when it became clear Brenda wasn’t returning.

She was packing up Audrey’s house when she heard that Courtney Quartermaine was pregnant.

And that was the final piece of news that sealed her decision. Courtney Quartermaine was pregnant and she’d been sleeping with Jason for a little over a month. She said the baby was his.

It didn’t matter that even Elizabeth could tell the other woman was lying–that she couldn’t be sure if AJ or Jason were the father.

Jason didn’t think so. He believed Courtney.

Carly Corinthos had decided that she didn’t want Courtney and Jason together after all and came to tell Elizabeth that Sonny had blown a gasket when Courtney turned up pregnant. He’d all but ordered Jason to marry Courtney.

Carly told Elizabeth that Jason had argued very logically that the baby could be AJ’s. And Sonny had countered with a threat.

Carly had filed for divorce and came to tell Elizabeth that she was sorry for the way she’d treated her after Sonny had faked his death. Carly said that Elizabeth had had a right to know.

She asked Elizabeth if there was anyway to change Elizabeth’s mind–if maybe she’d try and give Jason another chance.

Elizabeth explained very simply that she couldn’t do that. She confided that she still loved Jason very much, but he was no longer the man she’d fallen in love with. The man that never would have slept with Courtney while they were each still married. The man that would never have let Sonny Corinthos order him around.

She couldn’t give their relationship another chance. No matter how much she loved Jason, she wouldn’t allow herself to settle for a shadow of the man he’d used to be.

She’d done that once before and it hadn’t worked out. She wouldn’t compromise who she was again.

She’d walked away from something she desired to protect someone she loved.

Herself.

And she wasn’t going to turn around.

The day Jason Morgan married for the second time, Elizabeth Webber got a flight to Venice, Italy.

Timeline & Inspiration

This was a response to the Flash Fiction challenges at The Canvas in October 2002. The prompt was “missing in action” and is set very shortly after Elizabeth left the penthouse in October 2002. She was pulled briefly into the Spencer drama where Luke had disappeared following Laura’s breakdown, and Lucky was trying to find him.

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Elizabeth Webber shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she stood at a pay phone on the docks. She’d been on hold for ten minutes and had already had to feed more money into the machine. “Come on,” she muttered.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jason stalking towards her and she grimaced. He must have found out what she was up to. Knowing it wouldn’t do any good, she turned her body away to give her more time.

“Yes. I need two bus tickets to Atlantic City. Right. Atlantic–yes, tonight. As soon as possible–directly–” the phone was jerked out of her hands and she was roughly turned around.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s a little late to be interested in my activities, don’t you think?”

He didn’t even flinch. “That’s a low blow.”

“Too bad,” Elizabeth snapped. She turned back to the phone, already digging in her pocket for more money. She really needed a cell phone. “How’d you find out anyway?”

“One of the waitresses at Kelly’s,” Jason replied.

Elizabeth turned back around and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because Marisa would just jumping to tell you I was leaving town. How’d you really find out?”

“One of the waitresses came up to Courtney and told her.”

“Oh, you were with Courtney. There’s a surprise,” Elizabeth remarked. “Do you have a problem with me leaving or something? Because it’s a little late to act like you give a damn.”

“Elizabeth, you can’t just go to Atlantic City with Lucky Spencer to…” Jason stopped. “Why are you going with Lucky?”

Elizabeth frowned. “Wait a second. You’re all worked up just because I’m going with Lucky…not because we’re going to look for Luke?”

“You’re looking for Luke,” Jason repeated. “Are you insane?”

“No,” Elizabeth said, defensively. “You know what? Go back to Courtney. The big bad stalker’s probably attacking her at this second.”

“That’s not funny,” Jason said, his expression dark.

“I think it’s hysterical,” Elizabeth muttered. She began fishing through her purse. “I know I have change in here somewhere… You know what really irritates me? You guard her personally. That’s what so infuriating. I get shot at, my life’s actually in danger and you stick me in a penthouse, but aww…Skipper gets a little scared by some heavy breathing and there goes Super Jase–off to save the day!”

“What are you talking about?” Jason demanded. “Are you jealous?”

She looked up from her purse, her eyes blazing. “Jealous? Jealous? You self-centered pig!” She put the purse on the ledge of the pay phone and shoved at him. He didn’t move an inch, but she got her point across. “You think I’d be jealous of that little…that little twit?” she raged.

“Then what’s wrong?” Jason asked, throwing his arms up in frustration. “You’re not making sense!”

“Why are you the only one that can protect her?” Elizabeth demanded. “Why does she get you when I got a nameless guard? What? Does she mean more? Are you in love with her? You sleeping with her? Was AJ actually right?”

“You know you don’t really think that.”

“Then why does Courtney get your personal attention? Why?” Elizabeth asked. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. You’re not my boyfriend–and I don’t give a damn how you spend your time.” She grabbed her purse and stalked away.

He followed her and grabbed her arm. “You can’t just go searching for a fugitive, Elizabeth.”

She whirled around and shoved him again. “You know what, Jason? Go to hell! The only reason you care is because I’m doing something that doesn’t involve you! You’re the one who’s jealous–you came here all upset at me because I’m going somewhere with Lucky–and then you go and accuse me of being jealous of Courtney? Make up your damn mind!”

“That’s not it and you know it. Don’t you know how dangerous–”

“Oh, shut up!” she groaned. “I don’t think looking for Lucky’s father is any more dangerous than being with you, so just save your breath and go back to Courtney. I’m sure she saw her shadow or something.”

“Will you stop that?”

“Stop what?” Elizabeth demanded. “Jason, it’s too late to act like you care about who I see and who I’m with. You had your shot and you blew it. You’re the one who never called, who never came home, who let me worry for no good reason.”

“We’re back to that?”

Elizabeth was positively hysterical with rage now. “You knew I was worried sick–you knew I was scared for you and you let me sit in that penthouse wondering if you were dead or alive while you and Sonny were out there perpetuating a lie, so don’t act like you’re innocent. This was never about Sonny faking his death and you not telling me–this was about you making me feel like I was worth next to shit in your life. Well, you know what? I’m through–I’m through waiting around for you to wake up and see what you’re missing–you let me walk away so you deal with that. I have some phone calls to make.”

He let go of her arm and stepped back. “Just…just be careful.”

The anger seemed to drain out of her body as she just stared at him. “You really are an idiot aren’t you?”

“What did I do now?” he asked, irritated.

“You always do this!” she cried. “You make me think you care and then you just stop–you shut down. What is wrong with you?”

“What? I’ve made it clear I don’t agree with this–but you’re going to do what you want anyway!”

“Damn right I am, but–” Elizabeth just stopped and shook her head. “Fine. Just remember something–when you’re done protecting Courtney and taking care of Carly and doing what Sonny tells you…and you go home to that empty penthouse of yours…remember that it’s no one’s fault but your own.” She turned around then and stalked away.

Prompt: Coffee, tea, or me

 

Elizabeth Webber shoved the coffee pot into its place and glared at nothing in particular. After an entire day of working, she was more than ready to call it a night and sleep for a week. She hated this job and she hated Port Charles. She should have never moved here. What had she been thinking? Trying to connect to a sister and grandmother who quite clearly didn’t want her here?

She checked the clock. Ten minutes until closing. She could do this. The diner was nearly empty anyway. A couple in one corner and one man—drinking coffee in the courtyard.

She bypassed the couple–she was in no mood to deal with young love–and breezed out of the doors—in time to see the explosion.

The man drinking coffee in the courtyard had been alone when Elizabeth had served him. Now, a brunette was sitting across from him and a blonde was in the brunette’s face. Both were arguing bitterly and the man seemed to content to let them kill each other.

Elizabeth almost walked back in–but she found herself curious. The trio hadn’t noticed her appearance, so she crossed her arms and leaned back to enjoy the drama.

She learned the brunette was Robin, the blonde Carly and the man Jason. The blonde seemed to be blunt, bordering on the crude while Robin the brunette was sweetly cutting. Every word that came out of her mouth could be interpreted about a dozen ways. The man, Jason, wasn’t speaking at all. In fact, he seemed to be ignoring their presence.

Elizabeth discovered that Jason had been in relationships with both of them at one point or another. He had a son with Carly and had broken up with both of them–which meant he was single, Elizabeth decided, looking over the muscular blonde Adonis. Not a bad thing.

Robin accused Carly of wrecking her life and anyone else’s that came along while Carly accused her of betraying Jason. Robin said something along the lines of Carly being a slut which Carly laughed off.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow as Robin called Carly insane and was pleasantly surprised when Robin brought up the son that apparently wasn’t Jason’s after all. Just as Robin finished telling Carly that she should take her son and leave town, Jason suddenly sat forward.

He told Robin in no certain terms that she was never to mention Michael’s name again. Carly smiled gleefully until Jason turned to her and told her to go home to Sonny. Robin stood and left, throwing a hurt glance towards Jason. Carly seemed to back off after the Sonny comment and left.

Amused, Elizabeth came forward with the coffee pot. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No.” Jason looked up. “How long were you standing there?”

“I came out just as Carly showed up,” Elizabeth replied. She pulled out her order pad and scribbled the amount. “Sounds like you have your hands full.” She put the check in the table. “You ever get them squared away? Give me a call.” She grinned at him and headed back into Kelly’s, her cell phone number in a circle underneath the amount of his check.

January 27, 2014

Inspiration

This was definitely one of those times I heard a song and I wanted to write something for it. I don’t really have other memory of this, lol.

Timeline

Other than just generally being set sometime in 2004, there really isn’t a lot of setup here. It’s during Elizabeth’s marriage to Ric, but after the birth of her child (who we didn’t know was a boy when I wrote it.) It’s kind of a foggy history story — it’s set in the GH world, but there’s nothing really tethering it to a time or place.

Banner Here

Sooner or later she feels the morning come

She wakes up, a smile on her face. Her husband thinks it’s because he’s there and he smiles back at her.

But her smile—the light in her eyes is not for him. Not today.

He leaves for work with a kiss to her cheek and a cup of coffee. When his car has pulled out of the driveway, she spurs into action.

Isn’t it safer — dark thoughts all gone

Today is the day she makes her escape.

What a sensation

She packs as many of her daughter’s clothes as she can cram into three diaper bags and a suitcase. She tosses in the stuffed animals the baby can’t live without, formula—nearly everything the little girl owns.

She herself is only taking two suitcases and a few art supplies.

She has made it through one more tomorrow

She doesn’t bother leaving a note—doesn’t care enough to tell him that she’ll never come back. That she doesn’t love him.

That she’s almost sure she never did.

It’d been an illusion—a trick of light.

Raising up her eyes to a brand new sky

She will never be tricked again.

She knows the truth at last

She packs the car up, locks the door tightly and fastens her daughter into the car seat. The divorce papers that she’d tricked him into signing the week before have already been signed and filed.

He’d thought it was a form for the doctor’s office about the baby.

She’s never coming back

She wants to slam her foot on the pedal and never look back. But she doesn’t want to draw attention to herself so she drives the speed limit and follows every traffic law to the letter.

She’ll be gone
So many years

She arrives at the meeting point and sits on the hood of her car with her daughter in her arms. This is a safe place for her. It always has been. A hundred yards away sits an old dilapidated boxcar that isn’t visible to her but she can feel it sitting there.

She’ll be gone
Melting away

A lifetime ago, she found him bleeding in the snow like some sort of tragic snow angel. She’d picked him off the ground and forced him to live—to breathe.

And weeks ago, he’d found her crying in the snow. Her daughter is almost a year old, she has the house in the suburbs, the perfect husband—the life she should have wanted.

The life that suffocated her, trapped her.

He’d forced her to live—to breathe again.

She’ll be gone
This is the day

Her daughter stirs in her arms and starts to cry, confused by the strange surroundings.

She rocks her back to sleep. Hers eyes are trained on the road. Willing this not to be a cruel joke.

Someone is walking up to the bedroom door

In the fifteen months since her second marriage to the same man, she has become the trophy wife she’d sworn never to be. The pretty woman on his arm at social functions as he butters the wealthy up for reelection campaign funding. The doting wife who organizes dinners for his colleagues and always has his warmed in the oven when he works late.

Hearing him knocking
She knows what it’s for

He never asked her to make these changes but she felt the pressure to be perfect—to make his life perfect. It choked her and six weeks ago, it threatened to kill her.

But he’d found her crying in the clearing near the boxcar. He’d forced her to tell him what was wrong—forced her to treat him like the man she’d once thought she’d imagined.

She’s at the window wondering why there is no one to save her

And on that day, their plan to escape their lives had been borne.

Raising up her eyes to a brand new sky

Their respective lives that choked them, that trapped them—that changed who they were at the very core—

They would run away and never look back.

She knows the truth at last
she’s never coming back

Just as she thinks she might have imagined that day in the snow, she hears the rumble of the familiar bike.

He coasts the bike to a stop and approaches her. He takes the baby from his arms and cradles her in his own as if she were his.

She’ll be gone
So many years

“You’re late,” she tells him, teasingly.

“Traffic.” But he’s smiling too. Her daughter is awake now and she’s smiling, reaching her chubby fists for his leather jacket.

She’ll be gone
Melting away

“Ready to go?” she asks. He nods and although it pains him, he leaves the motorcycle where it’s parked. He has enough money to buy another and they need the car to get to the airport.

He’ll send for it one day, he tells himself. One day, he’ll tell his sister to send it to where they end up.

She’ll be gone
This is the day

She moves the car seat to the back and he fastens the little girl inside, making sure the straps are tight. He gives her a beaten up giraffe he’d hidden inside his jacket. He’d given it to another baby once upon a time—a little boy he’d loved as a son.

And now he was giving it to a little girl he’d raise as a daughter. After all—she had her mother’s blue eyes.

Raising up her eyes to a brand new sky
She knows the truth at last

Jason Morgan started the car and backed it back onto the road taking Elizabeth and Audrey Lansing away from Port Charles.

She’s never coming back

Inspiration

Ric really doesn’t get enough crap for how close he came to killing Elizabeth repeatedly in the summer of 2003. First, he allowed her to drink poisoned lemonade to keep his Carly secret, then he drugged her with birth control pills and sedatives which led to a pulmonary embolism. As if that wasn’t enough, he nearly smothered her with a pillow to avoid being caught for Carly’s kidnapping.

And yet, they got back together and got married all over again! Oy.

GH stays trash.

Timeline

This is set in July 2003, directly after Elizabeth finds Carly in the panic room. She passes out from the embolism as soon it happens and Ric locks Carly back up. Elizabeth is unconscious in the hospital and Ric considers smothering her to keep himself out of trouble.

Banner

I just want to feel safe in my own skin
I just want to be happy again

The pillow is in his hands. His fingers are clenching the sides of the material so tightly that they are numb.

She sleeps peacefully or as peacefully as she can with the knowledge he knows she holds. Her face is pale, her hair spread over her own pillow, falling around her face.

She is the most beautiful person he’s ever known—inside and out. And he can say that for a brief moment in time, she loved  and believed in him.

I just want to feel deep in my own world

He walks quickly down the hall—not too quickly though. He doesn’t want to bring any attention to himself. He has one clear goal for this night. He wants answers and he finally believes she’s in a position to give them.

Her room is just at the end of the corridor and if he can get there without any hospital personnel stopping him…there might yet hope for them all.

But I’m so lonely
I don’t even want to be with myself anymore

He steps towards her and starts to lower the pillow. He closes his eyes as he does it and when he feels the resistance of her skin stopping it’s descent, he presses harder.

Her arms start to flail on the bed and they claw at his forearms. He can hear her gasping for air and he wants to stop but he knows there’s no turning back.

On a different day
If I was safe in my own skin
Then I wouldn’t feel lost and so frightened

He’s at the door and about to push it open when a nurse steps into the hallway. He moves into the corner, into the shadows until she’s gone.

But this is today
And I’m lost in my own skin

He can feel her struggle lessening. Her arms aren’t moving as rapidly, her chest isn’t heaving. He can almost feel the life slipping from her.

And I’m so lonely
I don’t even want to be with myself anymore

He turns the knob slowly and pushes the door open.

And I just say oh, oh
I feel, oh, oh

He doesn’t even hear the door opening as he finally lifts the pillow from her face. He turns to see Jason Morgan in the doorway. Ric Lansing doesn’t speak, he doesn’t cast one last look at his now dead wife. He sets the pillow on the bed.

Jason is unable to move, unable to process what it is he thinks he’s seeing. But as Ric begins to slow move from the room, Jason pins him to the wall with one hand.

“What did you do?” he demands, harshly.

And I’m so lonely
I don’t even want to be with myself anymore.

“The only thing I could,” Ric chokes out. Jason twists his head back to look at the woman in the bed, panicking when he notices that her monitors have been unhooked. He turns back around and slams his fist in the other man’s jaw. Ric sees stars before he blacks out, the liquor he’ drank before coming here taking effect.

Jason lets the scum slide to the floor before hurrying over to her bed.

I just say oh, oh
And I’m so lonely

Elizabeth Lansing isn’t breathing but he can feel a faint pulse in her neck. He uses the call button and then starts CPR.

A nurse comes in, sees the man on the floor, the man performing CPR and darts back out. The call for a crash cart is heard and before Jason knows it, he’s pushed out of the way.

I feel oh, oh
I don’t even want to be with myself anymore

Elizabeth is technically dead for two minutes. But the doctors are quick working and the crash cart is there in seconds. Her small body convulses into the air as they use the paddles to bring her back.

A nurse has hooked up her monitors and the horrible screech of the flat line echoes in the room for a few moments before her heart starts to beat again.

I just want to feel safe in my own skin

She doesn’t quite remember everything when she wakes up, but she does know that Carly is in a hidden room in her home and she tells Jason how to open it.

When she learns that her husband nearly killed her, she isn’t able to speak for a moment or two. But when she does, she just thanks Jason for saving her life.

Again.

I just want to be happy again