Part Eleven

Prompt #61. "Don't talk, don't say a thing, 'cause your eyes, they tell me more than your words. Don't go, don't leave me now, 'cause they say the best way out is through." Ungodly Hour, The Fray

For the first time in his life, the repetitive motion of working out with a heavy bag wasn't doing its job; it wasn't clearing Jason's mind. Usually, routine calmed him, grounded him. Bob and weave, bob and weave. Hell, usually he didn't need to worry about anything, because he purposely kept his life simple. He worked out, he rode his bike, he fought, he played pool, and sometimes he'd take a girl upstairs to his room at Jake's. But all that had changed.

On the surface, his preoccupation would appear to be all Elizabeth Webber's fault, but it wasn't fair of Jason to shift the blame onto her small shoulders. Yes, he was worried about the situation with her ex, but he couldn't do anything about Ric Lansing until Elizabeth's slime-ball of an ex made a move, and Ric had been quiet as of late. Too quiet. He could tell that the lawyer's silence was making his roommate nervous... not that Elizabeth actually said anything to that effect to him. No, instead, she seemed to purposefully avoid him – going out of her way to make him comfortable in the house they now shared but doing so discreetly. She did his laundry but somehow managed to wash, dry, and fold the clothes when he wasn't around, so he never actually saw her in the laundry room or placing the neatly stacked piles of clean clothes on the end of his bed. And that's how she went about all of the chores she was responsible for.

It was strange, really, because she had shoved her way into his life and then seemed to almost disappear into the background. And it was a recent change, too. In fact, her sudden shyness seemed to stem from the day she had been forced to wear his clothes out to lunch with her grandmother. Jason didn't know why. He didn't mind that she had borrowed the sweats and long sleeved t-shirt, but, since that day, Elizabeth had been almost... awkward around him. The only thing he could assume was that it was something her grandmother had said to her, the judgmental shrew. Oh, Audrey Hardy had been polite enough while she waited for Elizabeth to join her that day, but the upward tilt of her chin and nose and her narrowed gaze when she lowered her standards enough to actually look at him told Jason everything he needed to know about the old lady: she didn't like him, didn't approve of him, and she certainly didn't want her granddaughter anywhere near him.

Well, that was Audrey Hardy's problem, not his; it just bothered Jason that something was obviously bothering Elizabeth... and then it bothered him even more that he was concerned in the first place. So, yeah, he had that on his mind – Elizabeth's odd behavior, her reticence, and the constant threat of her ex hanging over them, but those things were not the reasons why he couldn't sleep at night; they weren't what was distracting him from his workout, screwing with his form, and messing with his head. No, that honor was reserved for Jason's bigger problems.

As his fist crashed once more into the heavy bag – his still tender and healing ribs twinging with every swing of his arm, Jason gritted his teeth in concentration, in frustration. It pissed him off that, more than a month since his last fight, and he was still sore, still struggling with his recovery, and it made something glaringly obvious: he was finished. Oh, sure, he could probably keep fighting for another couple of years, but, in doing so, he'd risk not just his long-term health but probably his life. It was a hard pill to swallow – admitting that he wasn't young enough, strong enough, good enough anymore, but what was even more alarming was the fact that, once he was done fighting, what the hell else could he do?

His approach to life had always been seeing to the immediate concerns and really ignoring the rest, and, since his accident, such an attitude had worked for Jason. Perhaps it was being around Elizabeth – watching her make plans for her life, for her child's life, or maybe it was the oppressive, choking sense of approaching change which was forcing Jason to take a good, hardlook at his life. What he found was... disturbing. He had nothing and no one. Sure, Emily loved him, and he loved his sister, and he could even admit now that, in their own sick and twisted way, the Quartermaines cared as well, but he had no real family of his own. Hell, even his friends dumped him on a bench outside of GH when they were worried about him. That was their kind of compassion. And forget about job security.

Once Sonny told him he could no longer fight... and that day was quickly approaching, Jason had no real job experience or even skills. He knew that he wasn't dumb. He knew that, if given even just a few minutes, he could learn just about anything, but that did not a resume make. And his concern had nothing to do with his arrangement with Elizabeth. He wasn't worried about providing for her and her child, but, at the same time, the fact that she could very easily become responsible for him in the near future if they were still living together bothered Jason more than he wanted to admit. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was a woman, though, and everything to do with the idea of not being self-sufficient, of needing to depend upon anyone... for anything. But what was he supposed to do, especially when it wasn't just his body failing him? The entire world Jason had immersed himself in years before when he first agreed to work for Sonny Corinthos was, if Johnny was to be believed... and Jason believed him, crumbling down around them all.

"Are you Jason Morgan?"

Despite the fact that he had not been expecting the sudden intrusion, Jason didn't react to the person now standing behind him, the person who so obviously had been attempting to startle him into intimidation. Instead of jerking in surprise or whirling around to face the man, Jason took his time. He reached out, grabbed the heavy bag, and brought it to a gentle stop. Then, he slowly stripped off his gloves before casually tossing them aside. It was nearly a minute later when he finally turned around, arms already folding across his bare, sweat dampened chest.

When he didn't respond, when he didn't either confirm or deny the man's inquiry, the suit before him – and that was the best way Jason could describe the other guy: a suit – started to fidget. He cleared his throat, unbuttoned his jacket, and then ran a hand down his obviously expensive, silk tie. But Jason wasn't impressed. No, instead, he was annoyed... and not just a little astonished that Elizabeth had fallen for the creep's slick, overly greased ways. She seemed smarter than that, more confident, but that also told him that, whatever games the SOB had played with her, they must have been dirty. Just the thought of the arrogant attorney taking advantage of his roommate made Jason silently grit his teeth, his jaw clenching with barely restrained fury.

"Lansing."

The lawyer had the audacity to grin. "I see my reputation precedes me. You're aware, then, that I now represent Mr. Corinthos and that I'll be taking a more... hands on approach to his various business venture and enterprises." When Jason didn't respond, the other man raised his brows and quirked his head to the side in frustrated observation. "Yes, well..."

"What do you want," he interrupted.

Instead of answering, though, Lansing's face became thoughtful, almost introspective. "You know, we actually have someone in common: Elizabeth Webber. It's actually kind of amusing, really," Ric remarked, chuckling to himself. "You see, I've heard that you're engaged to my wife."

Instead of saying anything, Jason just took a step forward, bringing the two of them within an arm's length of each other. Because he was taller than the other man, Lansing had to look up slightly when he spoke again.

"That also means that you're a part ofmy son's life... and you're going to be the reason why, when the time comes, I'm going to win sole custody of my son, and Elizabeth is going to have to come crawling back to me on her hands and knees – begging – if she ever wants to see my little boy again."

It took every ounce of his self-restraint not to grab the pompous ass before him by the throat, pick him up off the ground in a choke hold, and squeeze the last vestiges of life from his body. "Your point?"

And the idiot had the nerve to smile at him – a wide, overly-confident, smug grin that, someday soon, Jason was going to enjoy wiping off his pretty-boy face. "Oh, I just wanted to stop by and personally inform you, Mr. Morgan, that you now have a fight scheduled for this Friday. It was a last minute arrangement. I hope it doesn't inconvenience you."

He wasn't ready to fight. His ribs still weren't healed, his kidneys were still tender, and it was going to be suicide for Jason to step into the ring again already, but he refused to show weakness in front of Lansing. Besides, he had a feeling that, even if he did voice his concerns, they'd fall on deaf ears. Everybody knew about his injuries; they knew that he was still nursing them. So, if Sonny had scheduled him for a fight, it was preciselybecause he was injured... or maybe it was because Lansing knew he was injured. The prick wasn't man enough to fight Jason on his own, but he'd send him into the ring unprepared and at a disadvantage, allowing someone else to get their hands dirty and do his work for him.

"Give the details to my trainer," Jason responded, already turning his back towards the attorney and walking away.

For the moment, Lansing had the upper hand, but he had also made a fatal mistake by making things personal between the two of them, by dragging his fight with Elizabeth into the gym, into the ring. Suddenly, Jason knew exactly what his next move was. Maybe he didn't have his future all mapped out, and Port Charles was still a powder keg of instability waiting to erupt, but he at least had a target for his anger, resentment, and anxiety: Richard Lansing.

Oh, he'd fight. On Friday night, he'd go into the ring, and, if he was lucky, he'd walk away with injuries no worse than those from his last match, but Jason was also knew that it would be his final bout as well.

He had a plan.