Early hours of the day, Johnny drives past the welcome sign to New York City, the one place in the whole country he had fought hard to flee from, in fear of the future that awaits him within the confines of that city. In spite of how much he wanted to do anything else, he knows that he could never truly help Elizabeth without stepping into the shoes he had been born to fit into.

Driving slowly through the city, he fights off the memories that begin to flood his mind, threatening to swallow him whole with the emotions that begin to trudge up because of it. The most prominent memory to rise within him is the memory of the night his sister abandoned him, leaving him to suffer their father alone.

NNNNNNNNN

Standing frozen with tears in his eyes, he watches as his sister quickly loads up her pickup with her belongings, desperate to get away in the dead of night before their father realizes that she's no longer there. He knew that she needed to leave, but that didn't stop him from hating her for it. For leaving him there, alone.

"I'd take you with me, you know I would, John." she pleads with him to understand. "I just can't right now."

"Whatever." he states through gritted teeth, refusing to shed a tear for her. "You do what you gotta do."

"Don't be like that." she cries, framing his face in her hands. "I love you! I will come back for you, I swear, John, I'm coming back and I'm gonna get you out of here."

"I won't hold my breath." he says plainly, removing her hands before looking at his watch. "You better go. The guards will be coming around any minute."

"Mark my words, I will come back for you." she kisses both his cheeks before rushing to the driver's side of the truck. "I swear, John, I'm coming back."

As her truck sped through the gates of the estate, he stares after her, etching the moment into the back of his mind. For as long as he could remember, he had always believed that they would leave that place together, that they would always be a team. For her to leave, it became a hard lesson for him to digest,but he would. That it would always, only, be him.

NNNNNNNNNN

Shaking the memory from his mind, he focuses on the task at hand, securing the only means he has to help Elizabeth pay back the people who tried to take her life from her. In a strange way, he finds himself drawing parallels with her, between her back story and his. Screwed up childhood, screwed up family, screwed up enemies.

Whatever has him adamant in helping her, the first step requires him to face the one thing he feared the most, the one thing he had fought so hard to avoid, his father. Regardless of how he feels about the old man, about the family business, accepting his father's demands will give him everything he needs to help Elizabeth and that was incentive enough to do what had to be done.


Alarm blaring on her bedside table, Elizabeth sleepily reaches over to the contraption before slamming her palm upon the snooze button. Time to get to work, she thought, as she carefully slides her legs over the side, snatching up her crutches before inching her way off the bed.

She knows that Johnny means well, that he would probably kick her ass for even attempting anything she was about to do today, but this is her life. Its her struggle and her pain. No matter how thankful she is to him for all he has done, ultimately, she has to do what she feels she has to do and that's to get better as soon as humanly possible.

Finding Johnny's mp3 player on his workout table, she slides the earphones into her ears, blasting the first song to catch her interest on the device. One of her favorite rock songs by Kansas called Carry On Wayward Son. In a strange way, the song portrayed the various emotions that have coursed through her since finding her way back to consciousness.

Staring at the wall with apt determination, she begins light exercises on her legs, needing to get them stretched out before she goes into the heavy exercises. As the pain slowly starts to form, her mind takes her away from it, placing her right into the moment when she finally heads back to Port Charles, the moment when the trio see her for the first and last time.

After nearly dying at the hands of the obsessed trio, she finds that all her fears have become a moot point. Surviving an outright attempt on her life, what more was there to truly be afraid of? After surviving what she has survived, the level of fear she had experienced, Elizabeth finds that she no longer fears death. It'll come when it comes. Till then, she's going to fight like hell to live her life.

Fear had once ruined her. It had become a constant thing in her life. After being attacked in the most horrific of ways for a girl so young, she had allowed the fear to take hold of her, to morph her into someone she wasn't. This time, she refuses to let the fear take control again, she refuses to allow her life to be dictated by the fear. Never again.


Another late night at his computer, Stan rubs his eyes, truly at his wits end on how to find Elizabeth. He has been tracking her for the last month, following even the smallest leads to finding her, but she still eludes him. Its as if she was purposely trying to evade his prying eyes or...

With a shake of his head, he refuses to believe that anything bad has happened to her, needing to believe that she was simply doing her best to prevent anyone from finding and following her. Forcing his gut to accept that, he trudges off to bed to sleep it off, knowing that things will look better with a few hours of sleep.

He has spent a lot of time teaching her his ways and that gave him hope that he was right, that she was merely remaining below the radar and living her life. Even with that thought coursing through his mind, he still couldn't help but feel that itching feeling that everything is not what it seems. A thought that haunts him through his sleep.

"Emily?" Stan voices groggily, looking at her in confusion as she stands outside his apartment. "Wha...what are you doing here?"

"I need your help." she says, walking past him into his apartment, a sense of urgency in her voice causes him to accept the intrusion. "I don't care if no one else believes me, I know my best friend and I know she wouldn't go this long without calling or emailing me."

"Slow down." Stan guides her to sit down. "Now, you were saying something about Elizabeth."

"I've been calling her and leaving a ton of messages until her inbox was full." Emily says seriously. "I've begged and pleaded for her to call, to do something so I know she's okay, yet nothing. No call. No text. No email. Nothing!"

"That is unusual for Liz." he agrees, but then another thought hits him, a thought he feels compelled to voice. "But..."

"Oh, god, not a but."

"Its possible that she wants a clean break from everyone." Stan points out. "She loved your brother so much and she hasn't been the same since they split up. Maybe, just maybe, you're a reminder of that pain."

"No!" Emily stands up with a stern look in her eyes. "I know my best friend! She would never do this to me! Not to me, not to anyone! Something's not right here, Stan, I know it."

"Okay." he accepts. "I'll see what I can find."

"What can I do?"

"Make a pot of coffee." Stan says seriously, plopping down in front of his computer. "I'm gonna need it. A lot of it."

He knows that he's been at it for the last month, finding nothing that really stood out of the ordinary while still bringing up question after question, but the conviction in Emily's eyes had him intent on picking this entire situation apart, piece by piece, he's going to dissect this thing like only he can. If there's something there to find, he'll find it.


Pushing harder and harder, refusing to give up, Elizabeth's body meets its limit as she comes crashing down onto her knees, tears falling harder than ever before. Screaming as loud as she possible could, she slams her fists against the floor, her anger boiling hotter and hotter.

"I'm not going to give up." she orders herself, reaching up, she lifts herself up from the floor, her bottom lip trembling from the strain she has put her body through. "I...refuse...to...let...them...win!"

Holding onto the table, she slowly walks, step by step, she makes her way to the end of the table, transferring her support to the wall, following it out of the makeshift gym. Refusing to give up, refusing to let the pain swallow her whole, she walks until she's standing in the doorway, taking a deep breath before releasing her hold on the wall.

"Now or never." she whispers, swiping at her tears before taking a deep breath. "Now or...or never."

With one last deep breath in, she takes her first step, then another, letting out a soft chuckle when she takes another. Her hope slowly rising the closer she gets to the couch, her heart allowing the hope to make its way in, giving her the faith that she can really do it, that she can really make it back to the girl she's meant to be. Back to her full strength.