Damaged
Summary: It didn't matter what anyone told her. Maxie Jones wasn't a good person. She hated herself. She hated that she got to live, while the good people had to lose their life. She wasn't going to ruin Spinelli, Emma, or Mac, too. Possible twoshot
Maxie Jones entered her silent apartment, body aching and filled to the brim, with exhaustion. She gazed around the living room, taking in a breath as her eyes locked on the picture sitting on one of the stands, next to the sofa. The one of she, Georgie, Robin, and Mac standing infront of a Christmas tree. She remembered that Christmas, well. It was taken the Christmas before Georgie's untimely death. It had been such a great night, filled with laughter and love. Christmas time dimmed a little, after Georgie's death, but they still managed to have those dinners and try and enjoy themselves. Especially when Emma, Patrick and Robin's little daughter came into the picture. The young woman let out a gasp, putting her hand on the wall to brace herself. What would happen to Emma? Maxie hadn't thought about that. She'd been so consumed by her own pain, that she hadn't taken into account how Mac, Emma, and Patrick must be feeling. And Anna and Robert. Did they know what had happened? Did they understand it? Was Robert here, in Port Charles? She let out a tearful cry and slid down to the floor, leaning her head against the wall, and bringing her legs up and under her chest.
"No, no, no, NO!" She screeched out, her small hands gripping her hair tightly. The names of people whom she'd loved, and who'd died flashed through her mind. B.J., Jesse, Georgie, Cooper, and now, Robin. All good, kind, innocent people. And all dead, before they ever got to really live life. It was as if God was trying to teach her a lesson in the cruelest way possible. That's the only thing that she could figure. Why else would they all be dead? What had they done to deserve such a fate? She scoffed as she looked up, catching sight of herself, in the mirror, hanging on the wall. She hated what she saw. Absolutely despised it. She was a killer. She didn't kill them herself. She didn't take the rope, didn't cause the wreck, didn't cause the explosion, nor fire the gun. But she knew that she was to blame. There was no denying that. Not really. It was then that she came to a decision. Standing up, she brushed the imaginary dirt from her pants legs, walking to her room. She grabbed two of her pale pink suitcases from her closet, setting them on her bed, and began to pack her clothes and other things into them. If she disappeared, if she left, all the people that she cared about and loved-Mac, Spinelli, LuLu, Emma-they'd all be safe. They'd be safe from her curse. Really, this is something that she should've done a long time ago. Right after Georgie died. Or Jesse had.
She had no idea where she'd go. But that didn't really matter right now. She had enough money saved up to get far enough away. She knew that Mac and Spinelli would probably be hurt. So would LuLu. But eventually, they'd realise that she was doing what was best for them. With a sigh, she grabbed her suitcases, taking one last look around the room, shutting off the light. Walking back into the living room,. she smiled at the picture of she and Spinelli at their non-wedding. She let out a laugh, picking it up and hugging it to her chest. She put it in the suitcase, and left the apartment, locking the door behind her.
Damian Spinelli entered the apartment, feeling older than ever. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair, green eyes flickering around the room for a moment. He'd just gotten home from visiting Jason, in the hospital. It been hard as hell, not being able to tell him about Robin. Of course, he got why Monica and Sam wanted to keep it secret, for awhile. If StoneCold were to know what had happened, there was a chance that he could have a setback. No one wanted that. Especially not now. When Sam was pregnant and all of her and Jason's dreams of starting a family, were coming true.
He groaned and covered his face with his long, spidery hands. It was a great tragedy that had struck. Fair Robin had been an amazing doctor. An incredible friend, mother, and sister-figure. The world was at a loss. He lifted his head, gazing around the room, again. His brows furrowed when he noticed how quiet the apartment looked. It was strange. His eyes fell to Maxie's cellphone, lying on the coffee table, and his heart clenched. He had a horrible feeling about this. Clearly, his friend wasn't home. Her shoes weren't thrown off, haphazardly, by the door. Her jacket wasn't hanging on the coat rack. Her purse wasn't on the floor for him to trip over. Praying that he was wrong, he stood up, walking to Maxie's room and knocking on the door before opening it, when he got no answer. "Maximista?" He whispered. "Maxie, are you in here? Are you okay? I just want to help you." His eyes widened and he stopped talking, mouth falling open as he took in how empty the room was, of his friend's belonging. Her dresser doors were pulled open and pretty much empty, as was her closet. All of her pictures and things, were gone. It was as if she'd just disappeared. Feeling panicked, he reached into his pocket for his cellphone, and called the police. He needed to talk to Mac about what was going on.
Meanwhile, Maxie was driving along the road, a bag of hair coloring, colored contacts, and snacks, and drinks-specifically for the long drive, on the floor of the car. She didn't know where she was going. She didn't even know how long it would take to get her, there. All that she knew, was that she was going to make sure that she wasn't ever found. She'd even legally change her name, if she had to. But one thing was for sure. She wasn't going to come back to Port Charles. If she knew Spinelli well, he'd probably come home and seen that she'd left. He'd probably be calling Mac, right now. But she was going to beat both of them at their own game. It was for their own good.
The End/...