Obsidian

Georgie returns, revealing that Diego didn't kill her, but kidnapped and hid her in order to make her his own. After his death the men Diego paid to keep her captive kept her for two years. Two years she won't discuss- two years that a bottomed out Johnny is determined to find out about. His infatuation grows as he realizes that Trevor is getting closer to his other secret. With her sister back, Maxie is elated and the grief of the last two years is washed away but now that she has suffered the loss of her sister she wants to make up for being so terrible to Georgie before so she tries to give Georgie the one thing she thinks she wants- Spinelli. But thanks to Georgie's 'death' Spinelli couldn't want Georgie less and Maxie more….

This story has a little more Georgie in it then Spin and Maxie but they are integral and in almost every chapter. I'm basically writing this for my own enjoyment so if you like it let me know, I'll only post it here if people are reading it. If not then I'll just keep it on my hard drive to read and write for fun. Anyway, I hope you like it!

January 2010

Johnny didn't know why he was still in Port Charles.

After all, Trevor had the business, his father was dead, Claudia was running territory in Brazil and his grand love affair with Lulu ended with her settling for Logan Hayes out of guilt. Well that and the fact she couldn't handle his hand on Sonny Corinthos' death. Then when Scott died she and Logan moved to Texas to his hometown. He hoped they were content. But only content because that was something precious Lulu wouldn't be able to live with.

Yeah, he was bitter.

Bitter enough to be sitting at a dive in the middle of the city that made Jake's look like a five-star restaurant. There were half-dressed girls with multi-colored hair and their leather clad male counterparts that littered the room drinking cheap beer and eating stale peanuts. They talked over an array of loud, punk, metal and techno music and the whooping, uncontrolled laughter of drunks and fools. He felt like he belonged. Of course he did- in a place like this everyone was broken. Their sins burned like fire while their souls froze over from the desolation. Warm it up with some liquid courage, a little painkiller to ebb away the agony of life. It worked every time, it was just every time you needed a little more to take the edge off. Edge, ledge- whatever. He didn't stand on ledges anymore. He didn't want to feel alive. He didn't want to feel anything.

When he was younger, a stupid kid doing stupid things, he had a real thing for this sweet blonde he met at some club. She was cute with a pixie cut and fishnet stockings, he remembered that her eyes were green. He got himself toasted, really toasted and tried to get a little further then she wanted. She slapped him, kneed him in the groin and went to the police. When they took him in he was raving drunkenly just like his father. It had been a dark time in his life and those dark places scared the shit of him. He kind of felt like that again. Johnny ordered another drink- scotch, he knew it would be cheap and disgusting but it suited the purpose. After all, what worthwhile drunk cared about the damn taste? Besides he was already so wasted that it went down like sunshine.

The bartender was a hot number in a black mini skirt and red halter, the tips she got from the outfit probably paid for the boob job and the bleach for her hair. She was just like everyone else, just like him, just like Lulu, just like Sonny, Claudia and Trevor. Good people, nice people, well they didn't really exist. Lulu had him fooled for a while, crafty thing that she was. But no one could wear the mask forever. After all, he had tried. He tried to be the good guy, the decent guy but what the hell, all it did was get him kidnapped by some bipolar moron with a God complex. Sonny had to go- he was as unbalanced as Anthony had been and just as ineffective. In the end the territories had to go to Trevor. The guy was evil but he was efficient and to be efficient meant less death. 'You kill when you have to, the less dirt you do the less they have on you.' He disposed of Jason Morgan, or at least thought he did, and now the war was over, until some other power hungry criminal decided he wanted what Trevor had. Whatever. It was no longer his problem. At least, not unless Trevor found out that Jason was alive and with his family somewhere- where Johnny didn't care to know. Only that stupid Spinelli kid knew. If that happened all bets were off, then it would have to be Trevor who was disposed of. He hoped that didn't happen, the mob wasn't his style anymore.

"Tequila. Two more shots."

The voice was cracked but definitely a woman's. Johnny turned his head slightly to glance at her- curious for some unknown reason. Maybe he just wanted to see someone else as worthless as he was. This bar was full of them, he drank them all in, better then one hundred proof. Shit, better then moonshine. . "Come on, girl, don't you think you've had enough?"

He noticed the guy first. He had some sort of Spanish accent and dark skin. Definitely belonged in the bar too. His dark hair was slicked back and his faded jeans were plagued with tiny holes while the nike decal on his t-shirt was cracked and light. At a closer glance Johnny decided on Mexican.

The girl he was with was not of the same descent. Her hair was a pretty bronze that hung low down her back with her skin looking slightly pale but he guessed it hadn't always been that way. She too had jeans on with tiny holes in them and a faded t-shirt that hung off an emaciated frame. Boys clothes- probably that man's clothes, a lover? A friend? They weren't standing too close to each other so probably the latter. Her eyes were dark but he couldn't discern the color of them in the poor lighting of the bar all he could see was that they were as dull and lifeless as his. "I don't think there is enough in this bar to have." She retorted with an edge to her voice. She took down the shot and hissed a breath out.

She was beautiful but not in a dull, normal way. She was the volcanic glass left after an eruption destroyed a city. She was the ash that looked like snow in the sky. He couldn't help but stare and the more he looked the more he had the unsettling feeling that he had seen her before and the more he wanted to not stop looking at her. "We need to get you home."

"Home." She repeated the word as if savoring it in her mouth. "Yes, yes of course. Home."

She downed the second shot, swayed a little bit and then shook her head. She turned to the boy and said something quietly to him.

When they left Johnny watched as the red door with the chipped paint swing shut behind them. He ordered another drink- he wasn't going home that night. There was a motel a block down. He glanced back at the bartender who was smiling at him, obviously interested- or too drunk to realize she wasn't. It didn't matter which to him and he knew it didn't matter to her.

XXX

He slept in The Faithful Friend's room.

Spinelli was staring at the ceiling of her room, not his, it didn't feel like his. Before he moved in Maxie and Mac had kept it just as Georgie had when she was alive as some sort of shrine. He knew that sometimes at night Maxie would go in and cry herself to sleep. Other people didn't know that side of Maxie, for a long time he hadn't known it either. When Jason had to go and Spinelli had nowhere to turn it was Maxie took him in, not Lulu. That still kind of stung. But it really touched him in regards to Maxie, she was letting him stay in Georgie's room, he knew what it meant to her. Mac had agreed to it because Mac wanted Maxie to smile again.

It was still very rare to see her really smile.

It had been odd the first few nights, he couldn't sleep, he kept thinking he was hearing Geoergie's voice. He searched her whole room in his insomnia, finding a mass of important things under Georgie's bed. There were old photo albums, her journal, letters from Diego and old term papers, including one from Pete Marques. From the glowing comment Spinelli guessed he tried to get her to be another notch on his bedpost. He read them all, which did nothing to help him feel comfortable in her room but it passed the time. Things had gotten better after he and Maxie took down the posters from her walls, repainted the room a deep blue and tried to make it a little less Georgie-like. That had been a hard day but Maxie said she needed to do it, she needed to move on, to live. If she didn't Georgie would never forgive her. It was funny how hard Maxie was trying to live life the way Georgie had wanted. Most of the time she couldn't pull it off but at least she was making the effort. Even with the changes it was still Georgie's room to him. Maybe because he had spent so much time in it reading her journal.

Incidentally her journal is what sparked his love for Maxie Jones. Because Georgie described what he saw and, unlike his Lulu infatuation, he then knew he wasn't making up reasons to love her. In fact he had memorized one of the passages on the subject.

Lulu thinks that Maxie is just bitter and hateful. She isn't, that's not what it's about at all. Maxie is guarded, she's hurt and she's scared so she lashes out before people can hurt her. She goes after people she can't have and things she knows will end so she's not surprised when everything falls to pieces. Maxie can't hope anymore and after all she's been through, I can't blame her. I just wish that Lulu, no, that everyone, could know the Maxie Mac and I know. Sure she's difficult and moody but I have always known that she loves me, she's never let me believe otherwise no matter our argument. She's beautiful, I just wish she'd stop being so mean so that people could see that beauty.

There had been more like that and each time he read one he felt a little closer to Maxie, realized his feelings a little more. At first it had only been an attraction, after all, Maxie was probably the most beautiful girl on earth and Spinelli had twenty-twenty vision so he noticed quite a bit. Any emotion that went beyond that he thought was simply imagined, like it had been with Lulu. It was ironic that he had to thank Georgie for that when she had wanted to be with him when she was alive. But then, Georgie had been a good person and she would have wanted happiness for both he and Maxie. At least that's what he told himself. It had to be true because although he hadn't known Georgie long he felt like he knew her well and her journal, her innermost thoughts were bright, hopeful and full of the belief that people deserved second chances.

It took him a minute to realize he wasn't alone but when he did Spinelli found himself sputtering. She was staring at him with dark, solemn eyes with circles beneath them. It was her but it wasn't, she looked like a tired worn out shell of Georgie Jones- but it couldn't be because Georgie was dead and ghosts were not supposed to look like that. The window was open behind her and it blew her t-shirt away from her body and her lighter brown hair in her face. She was thinner then before, sickly and broken seeming. "It c-can't be."

"Spinelli." Her voice sounded like dry leaves. "I'm sorry- I wasn't aware you'd be here."

He blinked, "is it…is it really you?" What else could he say? He couldn't even think properly. He stepped towards her, reaching a hand out, touching her cheek. It was flesh beneath his fingers. She was corporeal. The wind left his chest, all he could do was stare. She didn't say anything, she just looked around the room and began to walk around it. He tried to read her expression. Did she feel forgotten? Was she angry they changed it? "I should go…get the brazen blonde one."

Confusion marred her face then faded, "Lulu's here?"

He shook his head, "Maxie is- we're, well, we're friends…"

Georgie nodded and smiled, but it didn't comfort him.

In truth Spinelli couldn't get out of the room fast enough. As glad as he was that his friend was back, as happy as it made him, her presence was unnerving. Maybe the joy would set in after the shock faded. He hoped so. He hoped it wasn't some twisted fascination or hallucination or any kind of ation. He didn't want to be crazy, he wanted Georgie to be alive.

He found Maxie reading a magazine in her room. She was lying on her stomach on the bed, head propped up with her hands, swinging her legs from the knee down back and forth in the air. She didn't look up, "What's up Spinelli?"

"Um, you're not going to believe this, Brazen Blonde One."

She swung her legs onto the floor and stared at him, "you beat Tomb Takers II?"

He shook his head, "although that would be amazingly wicked- no. I have not beat tomb takers II, however I am sure given my skills-" He stopped himself, what the hell was he doing? "Maxie, you have to see this and…and get Mac. You need to get Mac."

"Spinelli, what the hell is going on?"

"Just get Mac and come into my room, okay? Trust me on this."

Maxie nodded. She trusted him. It made his heart skip a beat every time he realized that. Getting trust from Maxie Jones smacked of getting gold from a leprechaun. After she bounded down the stairs, Spinelli returned to his room, half-expecting Georgie not to be there and this whole mess being part of his overactive imagination. But she was there, sitting on his bed, her own journal in her lap. She looked up, "did you get them?"

Instead of answering he launched himself into an apology. "I read that, I'm so, so , resurrected one but I couldn't satiate my curiosity- I didn't think you were coming back and-"

"Chill." Her voice took a hardness to it, "I'm not angry."

"Oh."

"Did you tell them I'm here?"

He shook his head. They sat there in silence until the door opened and a squeal followed. It was Maxie and she launched herself at Georgie without question, without surprise. She was blubbering about miracles and Mac followed suit, hugging her, kissing the top of her head. They asked her jumbled questions on how it happened and then dismissed them with happy tears and confessions that it didn't matter that it happened. Their tears were flowing freely, they held her and held her.

And were too happy to notice that she wasn't holding them back.