[Prompt – "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." – Unknown]

Chapter 11

Early February

"I think he's making good progress," Elizabeth said, easing her china teacup down onto its matching saucer. She was too nervous to look any of Jason's family in the face, too afraid of what she'd really see. "I've spent a lot of time with him – almost daily in the past couple of weeks-"

"Oh, we know," Edward interrupted, bracing a hand on the arm of his chair as he leaned forward, a crooked finger pointed in her direction. "You're encouraging this new life that he's so determined to create."

"I understand why you are so hesitant about him working for Sonny, but…"

"There are no buts," the older man argued, motioning for his son and daughter-in-law to back him up. "Sonny Corinthos is a criminal. There is no way around that."

It was a ridiculous argument to even begin. The Quartermaines had every right – every fact to back up their reasoning – for not wanting Jason to work for a criminal, but she knew they were on the verge of losing him.

In just the few days since he'd started working at the warehouse, he was less reserved, surer of himself, as if he were already finding a place with his new identity, and that was terrifying. Each day was a step towards his future away from them, and one day they were going to wake up, and Jason would be gone; nothing more than a memory.

"You know what Dr. Jones said," Elizabeth reminded him, sliding her saucer and cup onto the edge of the coffee table, suddenly feeling desperate to make her escape. She hadn't come here to argue, but to make them understand that they had to let go of Jason just a little bit if they wanted to hold onto him for much longer. "He's like a child right now, and if you push, he's going to continue to push back. When he's out of this house out, he's so different and relaxed, and if you all tried-"

"His doctors said he needed rest," Jason's mother murmured, pacing back and forth in front of the buffet table, carefully eyeing the expensive liquor in the crystal decanters.

"Yes, but he also needs room," she stressed, knowing she'd have to beg and grovel before they would ever understand. "You all have been so good to him, especially since he's been so awful and angry with you, but he needs something more."

"And what exactly are you proposing?" Alan asked patiently, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"I – I want to tell him the truth," she replied slowly, still too scared to look at anyone. "He trusts me, and I can use that to benefit all of us. And I can't continue to lie to him anymore…He keeps asking me how I knew Jason."

"You made that decision on your own," Monica pointed out quickly. "We were open with Jason about being his family, about who he was."

"But that's not him anymore," Elizabeth argued, trying hard to keep her reserve, but knowing it was slipping away with every passing second. "He isn't Jason Quartermaine, so why would I constantly badger him about being my husband? I just – I want him to know that he has a home already – a penthouse that he could have – even if it's just for a place to go."

"Meaning you'll just lock him up in that damned penthouse and-" Edward started, and she couldn't stop herself from interrupting.

"I haven't locked him anywhere," she reminded him sternly. "I just let him…be. And that's what Tony said we needed to do."

"Tony doesn't have any children," Monica huffed, shaking her head. "And neither do you, so you have no idea-"

"He was my husband," she cut in, clenching her fists tightly at her sides, surprised when no one argued her statement. She was on the verge of losing control, of breaking down, and she had sworn she wouldn't let the Quartermaines get to her. "I just – either we give him his space, the chance to choose his own life, or else he's going to walk away forever."

"From us, but not you," Edward snapped, jabbing his finger in her direction. "You'll get your husband back, which is what all this is about, huh? You've been the perfect, patient wife, and you think that he'll come around."

"No," Elizabeth corrected, getting up from the couch. "I'm giving him his space. I let him breathe, but I have no predispositions about where this is going to end up. He doesn't know who the hell I am. He isn't going to want me, and I'm okay with that because…he's alive."

She gave a smile of relief when Alice, the maid,made appeared in the living room with her coat and purse in hand – at least someone had understooand her desire to get out of here. "Thank you," she said, slipping the coat over her arm as she clutched her purse in her hand. She started to leave without saying another word, but stopped and looked around at Jason's family – her family. "You have to stop pretending that he's your son because he isn't. He's not Jason Quartermaine. He's not my husband. And I know we all want him back – that we want our lives back to the way they were before -, but we have to be thankful for what we do have."

"I don't see what good you're going to do by telling him you're his wife and showing him where he used to live," Alan sighed, easing back against the couch cushions and looking up at her. "But we told him the truth, and I suppose you should too. He does trust you and that may work out for all of us."

"I only want to be honest," Elizabeth repeated, starting towards the doorway, stopping mid-step when she saw Jason pacing back and forth in the foyer.

Alice quickly ushered her out of the living room, closing the doors behind her, and seconds later, voices erupted, arguments over what she was going to do.

"I didn't know you were here," Jason said, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck as he shifted his eyes towards the closed doors. "You were talking to them about me." She nodded. "Why?"

"I – I don't know," she replied honestly, realizing that he had a point. Jason was an adult. She had no reason to discuss him with his family. "You said you liked working for Sonny,. tThat you wanted to get a place of your own and start living. I want them to see things from your perspective."

"Why?" he added, his brow crinkling as he looked at her. "They won't listen. They can barely hear their own voices."

"I told you before," she swallowed, shifting her coat in her arms, "that they show their love by controlling you, which is a terrible way to show it, but I know they don't love you any less."

"They love who I used to be," he reminded her, his face relaxing. "They don't look at me like you or Sonny. And being in this house - it makes my stomach ache and I can't sleep at night. I just want out."

"I know," Elizabeth murmured, knowing all along that eventually this was going to happen.

"Sonny – he offered me a place to stay," Jason said, hesitating as if she was going to protestargue, but she just couldn't bring herself to raise an argumento. "And that bar – the one you took me to last weekend, but wouldn't let me drink-"

"You're still on pain medication," she reminded him, but when he shrugged it off, and she knew he still wasn't taking it.

"Anyway, they have rooms too. I went and talked to the bartender this morning." He paused again, and she wondered if he wanted her to fight him on this. "I can easily afford a room on my salary from Sonny, and I think I like it better there than here. They won't be hovering and shoving old photos in my face or asking me twenty times a day if I remember anything from last December. And you…you can still see me whenever you want."

"I'd like that," she smiled softly, her eyes widening when he walked over to the foot of the stairs and grabbed a poorly packed duffel bag. Not that he really needed anything besides his clothes. "Jason…"

"Do you think it's a bad idea?" he asked, sliding the bag over his shoulder, and she shook her head. "Good."

She didn't understand how her opinion could matter so much anyway, and it deepened the guilt she was already carrying. "Can I take you somewhere?" she asked, fumbling through her purse for her car keys. "There's – there's something I have to tell you."

**********

Edward Quartermaine had known plenty of conniving women in his lifetime. They breezed into his life from time to time, especially when he was a young entrepreneur, and he'd learned to spot a young, lively gold-digger as easily as he could a mistake in a campaign or a flaw in the company's numbers.

Now to say that he grouped Elizabeth Webber with such women would have been a lie. After all, she came from a wealthy family -; doctors who had all but founded General Hospital -, and twenty years ago, he would have loved such a courtship between Audrey Hardy's granddaughter and his grandson.

Only Elizabeth did not act like a woman of wealth and class, and she'd spent most of her youth bucking the traditions that defined the Quartermaines, which was why he was disgusted by his grandson's decision to marry her. Jason needed a matriarch for his home and future children, and he'd chosen some damn hippy girl who splattered paint on canvas and molded things out of clay. She was nothing more than a child herself, which would have been fun for some type of young, scandalous affair, but she was not the type of woman a boy brought home to impress his family.

Jason was taken by the girl's intoxicating spirit – those hippies had a way of drawing people into their silly, cultish ways – and he had hoped his grandson would wise up before the wedding, but he married the damn girl, and they lived together for a good solid five years of holy matrimony before the accident. They gave him no great- grandchildren, probably because the girl was baron from some silly LSD drug leftover from the seventies, and she slowly pulled Jason further and further away from the mansion.

Edward understood devotion to a woman – why his entire life had been lived for Lila Quartermaine, but she was the type of woman a man was supposed to devote himself to, and Elizabeth…well, he was finished trying to figure her out, especially when he gave her the benefit of the doubt so many years in a row because Jason loved her. As Elizabeth so often put it, Jason was gone and so was the past, so there was no reason for him to be the least bit nice to her, considering this latest stunt.

"You're with child?" Edward asked, repeating the question a third time as his granddaughter-in-law tightened her arms around her chest and hunched on the end of the couch. "You're having Jason's child?"

"Yes," she whispered, staring at the floor as she often did when having a serious conversation with the Quartermaines.

"Are you sure it's Jason's?" he asked again, ignoring Monica's scolding glare. She'd been standing next to Alan, still trying to wrap her head around what Elizabeth was telling them. "What? She spent a lot of time with AJ after the accident!"

"I didn't sleep with AJ," she hissed, gritting her teeth as her eyes shot to his.

"I just – Elizabeth, why didn't you tell us?" Monica asked, walking over and sitting down beside her on the couch. "This is the most wonderful news – something we've all needed to hear, and you-"

"I needed some time to figure things out," she interrupted apologetically, "but it's not something I could hide forever." As if to show them just what she meant, she smoothed her hand over her lower belly, revealing the growing bump that was hidden beneath her baggy shirt. "I'm still not sure what I'm going to do."

"Well," Edward chimed in, scratching the top of his head, "you're going to move out of that damn diner. My grandchild – the future heir of ELQ – will not be born above a filthy diner."

"Kelly's is not filthy," she sighed, holding her hand over her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'm going to get a bigger place soon, but I just needed some time to pull my head together."

"You won't need an apartment," Alan said seriously, walking over and sitting down on the other side of her. "You can stay here."

"Damn right, she will," Edward barked. "This child is a Quartermaine, an heir, and he – or she - will-"

"This child is a Webber," Elizabeth interrupted firmly, narrowing her eyes at the older man. "I have no intention of moving in here and living off of any of you. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of this baby on my own. It's going to be difficult, but I can make it."

"Ah," he murmured, arching his eyebrows. "You want money."

"No," she replied, shaking her head as she looked back and forth between Monica and Alan. "I – I have money. Jason gave me plenty in the divorce-"

"What?" the old man gasped, wondering why he had no knowledge of this. Jason had moved out, but that didn't mean there weren't people keeping tabs on his grandson, especially his bank account, something they agreed he should have for the time being should he decide to give up this life of crime for a business suit and corner office.

"Jason filed for divorce, Edward. I thought you knew-"

"I don't give a rat's ass about that," he cut in angrily. "The money? Jason gave you money?" She nodded. "So he knows about this?"

"Not exactly," she replied, fisting her hands in the hem of her shirt, a slender finger stroking the hidden bump. "He gave me the money because he wanted to get rid of me – like that made some kind of difference. I didn't want any of it, but now…"

"Now you think you deserve it because you're having his child," he muttered spitefully.

"Father, don't you think that's a bit-"

"Oh, don't start with me, Alan," he ordered, pushing himself up from the chair. "She shows up here a month or so after getting her divorce and money – what, is it all gone, Elizabeth?"

"No, I haven't touched it," she defended, her eyes filling with tears. "And I wouldn't have, but this child – honestly, I can't afford to not use that money now, but I only plan on using it for what the baby needs. I just thought you should know – you have a right to know-"

"Of course," Monica murmured quietly, smoothing a hand up and down the young woman's back.

He couldn't believe how quiet his son's wife was being about this, especially when she had blamed Elizabeth for how Jason turned out. She took their grandson out of their home, and he never returned all because she thought she could save him or something.

"We're here for whatever you need," Alan added softly, forcing a smile.

"How can you two be so damn nice to her?" Edward barked, pointing at her. "She lied to us – deceived us, and now she has Jason's child -, the only thing we have left of him -, and she's going to keep that from us, too."

Elizabeth sucked in a breath as she maneuvered her way off the couch, despite Monica and Alan's attempts to keep her pinned between them. "You are more than welcome to be a part of this child's life, but it's going to be on my terms."

"What?" Monica asked, tipping her head towards her.

"This is your grandchild, and I want you to be excited and overjoyed," she replied seriously, one hand still clutching her lower belly. "But I'm not moving in here. I'm not asking for money. And you sure as hell can't expect this baby to be some – some heir! And if – when Jason finds out, if he chooses to be a part of this child's life-"

"How stupid are you, girl?" Edward interrupted angrily, stalking towards her. "You can't let that damn criminal near your child."

"He's just working at the warehouse," she murmured, shaking her head when he continued to argue.

"He's working for Sonny. My God, you know he took him to the city last week, and there was some kind of shootout, and Jason – well, I have it on good authority that he killed to save that-"

"Stop," Elizabeth whispered, hanging her head. "Sonny is looking out for him."

"Oh, sure, by placing a gun in his hands," Edward added, ignoring the looks of horror on his son and daughter-in-law's faces. He didn't have to tell them everything, especially when it would do nothing but cause an argument, and he was tired of arguing over Jason's poor choices. If the son of a bitch wanted to kill people, fine, but he wasn't bringing his great- grandchild into it.

"I can't do this," she said, starting towards the doorway, her head hung as she started to cry. "I just thought you all should know."

"The nerve," he muttered, undoing the buttons of his suit jacket and shrugging it off his shoulders. He tossed it down on his chair and started for the desk in the corner, shoving his sleeves up as he walked.

"What are you doing?" Alan asked, sharing agiving his wife a worried look with his wife.

Edward jerked his chair out, sat down, and started flipping through his rolodex. "She's going to keep that child from us."

"She said nothing of the sort," Monica sighed, cradling her face in her hands.

"Oh, she will, unless we give her something that she wants," he muttered, his hands trembling as he flipped through the numbers. "Or worse, she'll actually let that criminal be a father, which is the most terrible-"

"It could be good for Jason," Alan pointed out.

"Or it could get my great- grandchild killed," he replied, shaking his head at his son as he snatched the phone from the receiver. "I didn't raise you to be so naïve."

"What are you doing?" Alanhe asked again, walking over as Edward punched in the number for Justice Ward.

"Something we should have done when Jason filed for divorce and decided to give away my hard- earned money," he hissed, waiting impatiently as the phone rang on the other end. "And something we have to do now that Elizabeth is giving birth to a Quartermaine."

"Father, couldn't you give it a day or two to think about this?" Alan asked, realizing exactly what he was up to.

"Oh, you'll thank me for this eventually," he replied, ordering Justice's secretary to get him on the phone when she finally picked up. Frowning, he reached out and grabbed his son's hand, squeezing it tightly. "You will thank me for this, Alan. Just wait and see."