Safe… No More

Chapter Seven
FNF#16: Always have a backup plan.

She was a terrible mother.

Not only could she not provide for her son, in essence being forced to resort to stealing in order to support him, but, now, here she was, in the middle of the night, dragging him from the comforts of a warm bed to sleep in the middle of the elements, and to say that those elements were not conducive to camping out would be a rather monumental understatement.

"Mommy," Cameron asked, his little voice wavering with both a yawn and the natural force of the howling wind. "What are we doing?"

"We're going on an adventure, sweetie."

And, now, she was also a liar. However, her little boy seemed satisfied with the answer, and, so, they kept trudging on, their steps slow and wobbly because they had to go at the three year old's pace. At first, when they had left the safe house, Cameron had still been half asleep, so she had tried to carry him as far as she could, but, between his weight and the weight of the few necessities she had brought with them, it had been too much for her slight frame to handle for too long. When Elizabeth had been forced to rouse her slumbering son and make him walk beside her, the disappointment she felt towards herself almost caused her to turn back around.

But she didn't. Through the crispy, ice hardened snow, they pressed on, the now lightly falling yet desperately chilling rain pelting their covered bodies mercilessly. The storm had stopped almost entirely, something she was thankful for, because she feared her son, if outside with it raging above and around him, would have been scared otherwise, and the last thing she wanted to do was scare Cameron even more, damage him even more.

That's why she had made the decision to leave the safe house and, more importantly, Jason Morgan. While it was one thing for her to deal with the resentment and bitterness he lobbed her way for reasons she had a feeling she could not begin to understand, it was a different story to allow her son to be affected by the mob boss' cruelness. She had never allowed Cam to hear what the Hardy's, and the Webber's, and the Spencer's said about her or her little boy, so she was definitely not going to allow him to see something worse. Though she had known that Jason would not cross the line and hit her, Cameron hadn't been so lucky, and no child deserved to see their mother threatened that way.

So, with that in mind, she had waited for the pain pills she had slipped the kingpin to kick in and, once they did, she started to gather the things they would need to spend the night away from the safe house. She had gathered spare clothes and all the warmest blankets she could find and carry. Without fully waking her son, she had dressed him in his snowsuit and winter jacket, complete with gloves, hat, and scarf. Everything else was left behind.

An hour and twenty minutes later, here they were, just a quarter of a mile away from their destination. Although not safe, Elizabeth felt that they were at least better off now than they were before, and better, currently, was the best she could do. Because she was a mother, because she had to put her son first, it didn't matter that, by leaving, she had broken her word to Jason Morgan. As for all their possessions, she had made sure by switching the man's pain pills with his antibiotics that they would be able to return to the safe house undetected at a later date to retrieve their things, but, until then, they would simply make do with what they had. It wouldn't be the first time they were living practically with only the clothes on their backs.

"Mama?"

"Yes, baby?"

Cam had been silent for several moments until he requested her attention again, and she had a feeling he still was not satisfied with her previous answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was timid, almost nervous. "Will there be… lions, and tigers, and bears?"

Confused, she asked, "what do you mean?"

"On our 'venture?"

"Oh." Relieved, Elizabeth laughed softly, pulling her little boy closer to her leg so she could loosely hug him. "Definitely no lions or tigers, Cam."

"But bears?"

For some reason, despite wanting to comfort him, the young mother just could not lie to her son again, so, instead, she said, "let's hope not."

"Because they're mean?"

"Because they'll probably be hungry," she replied, smiling down at the toddler in reassurance, "and I forgot to bring some honey."

The three year old laughed, just like she knew he would. Ever since he was a baby, she had read to him Winnie the Pooh books, and, while they weren't his favorite, they were plentiful at the library, so he knew all the ins and outs of the Hundred Acre Woods. Satisfied with his mother's answer, the two of them walked the remaining distance to their destination in silence, the stillness only broken by the muted sounds of nature at night and by Cam's occasional yawn. She already knew it was going to be a struggle to wake the little boy up the next morning. At least they were closer to town, so their walk would be shorter, and they wouldn't have to leave as early as they usually did to get him to daycare and her to work on time.

Ten minutes later, they finally arrived.

First, she lifted the rolled sleeping bags and small duffle of their minimal possessions into the old, wooden structure before she bent over to pick her son up as well. After placing him inside, she hoisted herself up, immediately going to work to ready her little boy's pallet. While she worked, stuffing one sleeping bag into the other to double both their cushion and their warmth, she talked.

"Before you were born, I used to come here with your daddy. It was a special place for us." Because she knew her inquisitive child would want more information, Elizabeth continued. "It's an old boxcar, Cam, but it's been abandoned for years now. A long time ago, though, it once was pulled behind a…"

Interrupting her, the three year old shouted, "train!"

"That's right, baby." Grinning at the toddler, she opened her arms, and he instantly fell into her embrace, his little arms wrapping tightly around her neck despite the layers of clothing he wore. Unable to let go, the single mother hugged her son for as long as he would let her, only releasing him when he started to struggle. "Alright, Cam," she instructed him. "It's time for bed."

Without arguing, for he was exhausted, her little boy climbed into the blankets, only protesting when it became apparent that she wasn't going to remove his coat or snowsuit. "Don't wanna wear this to sleep, Mama."

"I know, sweetie, I know," Elizabeth sympathized, once again feeling like a terrible mother, "but you have to… so you're warm enough." As Cameron slid down and allowed her to zip the sleeping bags around him, he pouted. "I'm so sorry about this, honey. If there was any other way… You know that Mommy would do anything for you, right?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his eyes already drooping shut, "because you love me so much."

"More than anything else in the whole, entire world."

But Cameron didn't hear her final comment, for he was already asleep. Lowering herself to the cold, hard floor beside him, the young waitress wrapped her arms around her slumbering baby, hoping her body's nearness would lend her son even more warmth. It didn't matter to her that she hadn't been able to carry enough blankets for herself, too, and, though she could have crawled into her son's sleeping bags with him, Elizabeth knew that she couldn't be trapped and bound if some form of danger presented itself. While not many people knew about the old boxcar, it wasn't in that obscure of a location, and anything or anyone could stumble upon it. The bottom line was that they were not secure there.

While she knew she would doze on and off that night, for her body was just too tired to fight the inevitable pull of rest completely, the pretty yet depleted brunette also knew that such moments of respite would be fleeting and easily disturbed. Her body would naturally be on alert, ready and waiting for some kind of attack. Hopefully, her vigilance would be unnecessary, but a person, especially when they had a child, could never be too safe.

-

Elizabeth Webber was the most stubborn, bull headed, insane, infuriating woman he had ever met. To leave the warm and safe confines of an actual house, to traipse through the woods with a three year old during the middle of the night, and to think that an abandoned boxcar was a better place to stay than somewhere where he was… If he didn't die of infection thanks to her running away and forcing him to go after her, , following her tracks, then she alone would be the death of him.

Approaching the old railroad car, Jason Morgan sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and forced his anger aside. The sad truth of the matter was that he needed her, and he couldn't, in good conscious, allow a woman with a small child to live practically outside when it was still winter. He tried not to care, but, in the end, not even he was cold enough to turn his back on two innocents he had the power to help. But it was going to be easier said than done to convince Elizabeth to take herself and her son back to the safe house… to stay with him, and the last thing he could afford was a repeat performance from earlier that evening. He couldn't yell at the young mother, and he certainly couldn't raise his hand in rage towards her, even if he would never actually hit her. No matter what, he would never make Cameron afraid of him again, so he would just have to deal with his animosity towards the single mother in a different, more private way.

"You take one more step closer and I'll shoot," a voice threatened him from inside the abandoned wooden structure. Immediately, the mob boss recognized it as the young waitress'. "I swear," she pressed on. "I have a gun, and I'm not afraid to use it."

"Elizabeth," he said her name in the hope that the knowledge of the person approaching would calm her anxiety. "Get your stuff and let's go."

Before he heard her voice again, she appeared before him, her head poking out around the edge of the car. "I'm not going anywhere with you," she denied vehemently. "And are you insane?" He wanted to return the question to her but knew better and never received a chance to actually speak. "What the hell do you think you're doing, walking around outside so far from the safe house, risking your life? Are you trying to get an infection? Are you freaking suicidal?"

"I might be risking my life by coming after you," Jason returned harshly, his temper flaring up to meet and match hers. The fact that she seemed worried about him, though, didn't register, because all he could hear was her irritation towards him, and he took the bait and ran with it. "But you're risking all our lives and the lives of my men by throwing this little tantrum and running away."

"Well, excuse me for refusing to stay with a man who frightens my son! And just how exactly am I putting everyone's lives in danger here? All I did was leave."

"Yeah, you left, leaving me vulnerable on my own without anyone to care for my wounds and forcing me to come after you. Do you know what would happen if one of my enemies stumbled upon you and your son, Elizabeth? They would kill you without giving the action a second thought, simply because you both know me."

"Except no one's even aware of the fact that we know each other."

"Yet," the mob boss leveled back at her. "By you running away and forcing me to come after you, someone could have seen us, or they could see us as we make our way back to the safe house."

"I guess it's a good thing then," the brunette countered, "that Cameron and I are doing no such thing. Besides, you never would have been forced to come after me if you wouldn't have forced me into helping you in the first place, so quit trying to turn this back around on me, Mr. Morgan!"

He took several steps towards her so that, despite having to tilt his head back to look at her as she stood at the edge of the boxcar, their bodies were only several inches apart. "Let's not forget, Miss Webber, that the only reason I made you help me was because you've been helping yourself to my resources for years now, trespassing on my properties and squatting in my residences. You see," he added for extra measure, his reserve and plans of amiability long forgotten, "it all goes back to the fact that you stole from me, that you, for whatever reasons, were incapable of taking care of yourself and your son and that you resorted to taking advantage of other people to do so. Now, get your stuff and wake up your kid, because you are coming back to the safe house with me, and there's nothing you can do or say to make me change my mind, and, for Cam's sake, I'd rather we do this peacefully, but, if it's necessary…"

"I get it," Elizabeth snapped, interjecting rudely. "For the foreseeable future, I'm practically your servant, your slave. I do what you say when you say it and, to make it worse, I ask 'how, master.' You own me."

"I'm glad you're finally realizing your place."

"Don't get used to it," she threatened, seething, disappearing into the old railroad car to do as she was bid, "because it won't last long. Somehow, someway, I will get out from underneath your thumb, and, when I do…"

The comment was left open ended, and Jason wasn't sure if the single mother did such a thing because she wasn't sure what she would do in the future once she was away from him or because she thought the ambiguous warning would sound more ominous to his ears. And he was going to ask her what she meant, but, as he watched her jump down from the abandoned wooden car, reach up and bring her son into her arms, and then walk away from him, his petite form laden down with a three year old, two sleeping bags, and a small duffel, he realized where he knew her from; he remembered - everything.

Elizabeth Webber had been Lucky Spencer's girlfriend, and her son's father was dead, in part, because of him.