Babble: Is it just me or does anyone else believe that his board is down more than it is up? I've been trying to post this since yesterday oh well.

I have a question for my readers. You know how I write by now, the history I bring in, the characters I play with. I was wonder if anyone would be interested in reading a story I've written called Quagmire. It's a variation on the current stalker storyline on GH. It's 10 parts long, and I'm finishing the tenth part this weekend. I was curious to see if anyone would be curious here or not. So please let me know.

And thanks for reading.

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Her Greatest Mistake

Some Hard Truths

Chapter 15

~Yacht~

"Why don't I just help you die instead?"

The man's voice sounded as if it was coming from a great distance. It was muted, hollow sounding to her ears and it was difficult to understand the words. Yet she still tried too, she concentrated on the words, trying to force through the haze that clouded her mind. Helena struggled to focus on the man in front of her, she loathed depending on anybody but she had no choice. "Help me."

"No," Jason answered simply.

The features of the man shimmered and shifted in her mind, gradually coalescing into the form of the person she hated the most in the world. "Luke," she hissed bitterly, "you're too late I've already won."

Recognizing the dementia the woman was in for what it was, the final moments of her life, Jason made no effort to correct her assumption. "How did you win? You're dying."

"Maybe," with the familiar feeling of hate driving her, Helena felt no pain at the moment and she settled back against the pillows to study her foe. "But I still defeated you. I took from you the one person you loved the most in the world. The person you needed more than even your Laura. I took your precious son and made him mine. He may still be alive, but I own him, and I always will. There's nothing you can do to change that. That is how I defeated you."

Jason had never taken pleasure in killing people or in watching them die. In fact until the last few months, the only lives he had taken were in self-defense. He'd learned, in the last few months, how to stalk, to hunt, to kill people deliberately. He'd done his job, and in his cold, precise, methodical, even economical way he was very good at it. Like most things he'd discovered in his work, he had an undeveloped skill for killing. But he had always made it as quick and painless as possible, a humane death, so to speak. He'd found he could live with that easier.

But now watching the old woman choke on her words, and seeing the evil glint of satisfaction in her eyes, even while the blood drained from her body, he found he wanted her pain to go on and on. He didn't want her death to be mercifully quick, he wanted her to suffer, he wanted her to feel the pain he felt. He wanted her in pain and in torment for a long time to come. The want of that scared him a little bit. His senses were screaming that the glee he was taking from watching her die could lead him to a place he didn't want to go.

And yet he made no move towards the telephone.

What sort of man would he be when this nightmare was over? Would he even recognize himself in the mirror? Questions he never asked himself ricocheted through his brain and were easily dismissed, in the face of all the damage that this woman had set in motion.

"You never thought I would beat you, did you Luke? You were so confident in your Spencer pride," Helena coughed up some blood, intent on crushing her foe she went on unmindful of the rapidly forming stains on her silk sheets. "But even with all of your Spencer pride, and street smarts, you never even saw this coming. You thought your son was cured, that I had been defeated," she laughed until she began to cough again. "Foolish, foolish man, Lucky has been mine since that day in April of 1999."

"Why did you have him abuse Elizabeth?" Jason pitched his voice low.

"It was so much fun to toy with you Luke. You were so desperate to have your son back, you believed that he was well, because of that you were so easy to manipulate," Helena absently wiped her bloody hand on the stained sheets. "I brought Lucky back to you alive, I kept him alive, all for you. I wanted you to watch your precious son turn into a monster and know that you could never save him." Smiling at the thought she didn't notice the room grow dimmer. "You actually believed you could save him, that was so amusing to me. There was never enough Lucky to save."

Clenching his hands to refrain from snapping her fragile neck, Jason worked on bottling back his anger. "Why Elizabeth?"

Helena weakly waved her hand as if waving off a pesky fly. "She annoyed me. And she was a perfect test to my control over Lucky. The day he hit her, and she took it, I knew I owned them both. The idiotic girl just took…."

His hands were reaching out to her neck, the need to stop her words gripped him by the throat. They fell back to the mattress when he saw her blank, open-eyed stare. A faint trickle of blood had escaped from the corner of her mouth, but it was the only part of her that was still moving. Helena Cassadine was dead. She was dead and he hadn't laid a hand on her.

Why did he feel so cheated because of that?

The need to destroy, to wreck things, to shake her until she came back to life just so he could kill her himself was surging through him and he quickly left the bed, heading for the door before he gave into the temptation. The cold-blooded control he was known to have, was fading fast and right now even Taggert's taunt of Anger Boy didn't even cover the rage he was feeling.

Falling heavily against the wall just outside her stateroom, he sucked in air trying to regain some semblance of control. Finally his head cleared enough that he pushed away from the wall and began to walk away from the heady scent of the blood emanating from the stateroom behind him. He needed to plan his next move. Like the hunter he had turned into his head came up, and his eyes went hard when he heard the faint sound of music drifting down the hall. The gun once more in his hand he went searching for the source.

Andreas had just opened his second bottle of champagne and poured a glass when he realized he wasn't alone. Raising his head to face the mirror in front of him, his eyes met the ice-cold eyes of the man standing in the doorway behind him. Years of living with the fear and terror that Helena brought out in everybody around her, made him so numb that he calmly finished pouring his drink. "Would you care for one?" He asked casually holding up the bottle. "It's a very good year."

Recognizing Helena's lackey, Jason moved farther inside the room and raised his gun.

"Perhaps not," Andreas shrugged and set the bottle down before picking up his glass. "All the more for me."

Jason couldn't help but be a little surprised at the other man's casual manner. That surprise had him merely watching when Andreas moved further away and settled himself in a chair so he was facing the door and Jason.

"If you've come to kill Helena, it's too late. Lucky Spencer beat you to it."

Nodding slightly Jason wasn't surprised to have his suspicions confirmed. It seemed the puppet had finally turned on its master. "You just let her die?"

"So did you," ignoring the gun being pointed in his direction, Andreas felt compelled to state the obvious.

"She was dead long before I got here, she just had a few breaths left."

"The mistress hated to be deprived of anything, she always was stubborn like that," Andreas muttered sipping at his drink. "A toast to the death of the wicked witch."

"And her faithful servant," Jason finished the toast before raising his gun again.

~Penthouse 4~

Carly really didn't want to do this. She already regretted opening her mouth in the first place. At this point she would give anything to go back to five minutes ago, but knew it was impossible. Besides a part of her, granted it was a very small part of her, but a part of her nonetheless knew she had to finish this. The small part was normally easy to ignore, but it wouldn't be shut up this time.

"The longer you wait the worse it will be," Sonny reminded her.

Knowing he was right she shifted on the couch until she could see his eyes. God she loved his eyes. "About 2 ½ weeks ago Elizabeth came by the penthouse."

The rush of words came out so fast they seemed to blend together. And even though his face never changed she knew he had registered her words when his eyes went flat. Even though she had expected his reaction the withdrawal she saw in his eyes still hurt.

"What happened?"

"Apparently she wanted to see you. I was getting off the elevator the same time she was waiting to get on it," she smiled slightly. "You know me, you can guess what I did then."

"You probably went off on her accusing her of all sorts of things."

Flushing guiltily Carly didn't try to deny instead she got to her feet and began to pace. "She didn't answer me back, which was strange. She just moved past me and got on the elevator."

Watching her prowl Sonny was struck by the sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop. He didn't want it to drop because he had a feeling that when it landed it was going to be brutal. So he didn't prompt her this time, he merely waited to see if she would go on, on her own, and a few minutes later she did.

"Cal was on the door that day, I asked, no I demanded to know why Elizabeth was here, he said she had come looking for you," trailing off she took a hard breath before continuing on. "When she found out you were gone, she left him a letter to give to you."

When the shoe finally dropped it landed with the force of a bomb. And even though he had halfway been expecting something like this, and in spite of the earliness of the hour, he still moved towards the wet bar and a drink.

Watching his stiff movements and reading the guilt that was already weighing him down, Carly couldn't quite help the snap in her voice when she continued on. "I demanded that he give me the letter, and he refused, at least at first." The image of Cal's crooked buck-toothed grin came to her and brought the pain and tears. His death was so recent and unexpected she hadn't dealt with the fact she would never see that grin again.

The silence of the penthouse seemed to roar in her ears, until she shook the image away and forced herself to go on. "Cal refused to hand it over until I reminded him of the time that he placed a bet on a horse race when Michael was with him. I pointed out what would happen if you ever found out he had done that."

Resisting the urge to smash something, he set his now empty glass on the bar and faced his wife. "What did you do with the letter? Did you destroy it?"

Knowing not to be fooled by the cool tone of his voice, Carly quickly shook her head. "I wanted to, God how I wanted too. I even had the lighter in my hand, but I stopped. I knew that if I destroyed the letter, you would find out. You always seemed to find out. So I put it in your desk."

"I never saw it Carly," he reminded her sharply.

"You would've eventually," Carly hedged her eyes drifting away.

"Where is it?"

"The second drawer down on the left," she admitted finally.

Turning bleary eyes on the desk, he was reminded of how she had presented it to him. It was a desk she had bought for him, with locks on it, in an effort to show he could trust her. "You mean the drawer with most of the donation requests that I only look in about once every three months?"

Each word had gotten progressively sharper while his voice had gotten softer until it was almost a whisper. She hadn't realized that a whisper could cut a person until that instant. "Yes."

Moving to the desk he began to search the drawer, until he found a plain white envelope with no postage, and his name written in black in the center. Seeing the proof in his hands, he sunk wearily on the chair. "Carly…"

"I didn't know what was going on. You know that. The thought that she wanted help because Lucky was abusing her never even crossed my mind. How could it?" Carly cried out trying desperately to reach her husband. "Lucky has always been considered a hero to most of the people in this town. Or the best thing since sliced bread, hell you even thought he could do no wrong, so how was I supposed to know he was hitting her?" When he didn't answer her a tiny spark of anger began to work through her.

"I knew Cal would keep quiet. So after I put the letter in the drawer, I confronted Elizabeth. I'd heard through the grapevine at work that her and Lucky hadn't been so lovey-dovey lately, so I figured that she was going to try to use you to help her, the way she used Jason last time." Moving closer to him the anger in her voice made it rise. "Whether you want to admit it or not, she used Jason the last time he was home. She used him and she hurt him."

"It wasn't your business."

"Wrong," Carly snapped. "Jason is my business because he is my best friend, he's my family, and he always will be. Just because he was willing to get his heart trampled on by her again and again, it didn't mean I was willing to let it happen again if I could stop it. I wanted to protect him."

Refusing to be drawn into the fight he knew she wanted, Sonny focused on what else she had said. "What happened when you confronted her?"

Carly paced away again running a hand through her tangled hair. "It was strange, I found her at Kelly's and went off on her for coming to you. Basically I accused her of using Jason last time he was home to keep Lucky in line, and now she was going after you," her eyes dimmed in memory. "She didn't fight back like normal."

"You and Jason always seemed to think she needed protecting from me. That Hurricane Carly would just run over her, if you didn't come to her rescue, but you were wrong. She would get in my face and give it back to me. As much as I hated it, I didn't scare her, or intimidate her the way I wanted too," she turned to focus on Sonny again. "At least not until that day."

"What happened?"

"She wouldn't look me in the eye, she looked everywhere but at me. What I remember the most is the way she was standing. Knees apart, stomach held in, sort of like she was trying to protect herself from a blow." Uncomfortable with the realization Carly hurried on. "She asked, no she begged me, not to say anything about her visit to Lucky. Of course for me that's all it took to convince me that I was right. So I went off on her again, accusing her of trying to get to you because Jason was out of town, and she just took it, she didn't even try to deny it. She just stood there almost like she was frozen, until…"

"Until what?" Sonny watched the guilt his wife felt manifest into frenzied pacing. "Finish it Carly, no more secrets, no more lies."

"Suddenly Lucky was there," the admission stilled her movement. "I don't know how much he had heard, but when Elizabeth saw him, her eyes flashed with what I thought was guilt, but now I know what it really was. It was fear."

~Quartermaine Mansion~

Dr. Monica Quartermaine, carefully folded a T-shirt before placing it in her daughter's bag, she was pleased to note that her hand shook only slightly. It was lucky for her that she didn't have any surgeries scheduled for today.

Lucky.

Her hands stilled at the remembrance of the word. Would she ever be able to say the word, without thinking of the name of the boy who had hurt her daughter so badly? The boy who had hurt so many people? The boy who had once roamed this house, who was now a murderer?

"Monica I wish you'd reconsider this." Dr. Alan Quartermaine spoke from the doorway. "She's our daughter, she should be home with us."

"And how do you suggest we get her to come home Alan?" Monica sighed wearily, they'd been having this argument for hours now. They'd been arguing ever since she'd come back from seeing her daughter's bruised face, and had told him what had happened to her. "She's over 18 Alan, we can't drag her home. She doesn't want to be here, at least not right now."

"But she's hurt, and she's all alone." Alan pleaded unconsciously rubbing his hands together in a nervous tic he had developed during his days on drugs. "She's our daughter, she needs to be here with her family."

"She doesn't want to be with her family and quite frankly there are times when I can't blame her." Zipping the bag closed Monica shifted it on the bed so she could sit down. "Alan she's not alone, Zander is with her. Sonny was there, and even Carly seemed to be more interested in helping Emily than in fighting and that's saying a lot for Carly."

"But that's not good enough, don't you see that?" Alan exploded. Fear for his daughter made him snap, and his target was, as usual, his wife. "I can't even see her if she is there."

"Alan," Monica stood and caught his hands before he could move away. "It was hard for her to even look at me, and that's not because of the pain its because of the guilt she's feeling. She thinks it's her fault because she didn't figure out what Lucky was doing in time to stop him."

"That's all the more reason for her to come home, to be around the people who love and need her."

"She doesn't want to face you," Monica blurted out without thinking and seeing the dismay on his face she hurried on, trying to explain. "When Paige died she accepted you the quickest and the easiest. And even though you've let her down over the years, she still doesn't want to disappoint you. You're the only father that she can remember, she doesn't want you to see her hurt or her pain."

"Doesn't she know that there is nothing that she could ever say or do that would make me turn my back on her? Especially not something like this. Lucky attacked her, Lucky shot Audrey, Lucky killed Elizabeth and Gia, and that other child. Emily didn't do any of these things it was all Lucky."

"Maybe that's part of the reason she doesn't want to see you," Monica whispered. "She knows that you can't help but blame Lucky for everything, and yet to her, he's still her friend, she doesn't want to hear you call him a monster."

Alan drew back in horror and shook his head.

"I can only repeat what Emily told me. She isn't up to seeing you or the rest of the family." Monica hugged him sadly then moved towards the door. "I'm going to get some food before I bring the clothes to the penthouse."

Moving to follow his wife, Alan couldn't help but pause by the bed when a framed photograph on the table caught his eyes. His hand trembled slightly when he picked it up and looked at the now alien faces staring back at him. It was a photo that was taken the first Christmas that Emily had spent in the mansion with them. Her, A.J. and Jason were on the floor, playing with the train set. Her smile was one of the few genuine smiles that Emily had given that sad day, the first Christmas without her mother. Her mother's death was still fresh in her mind, yet she had loved playing with the trains with her new brothers. Judging from the smiles on the boy's faces, they had loved it as much as her.

Sighing loudly he traced the photo with his finger, now none of his kids were in the house. His beloved son Jason was the first to go, he had died just a few weeks later, and another, much colder, and angrier Jason had taken his place.

A.J.'s continued dance with the bottle had turned him into someone that he had trouble recognizing. Their relationship had improved when Alan had gone through his own battle with addiction. But A.J.'s hold on sobriety was so tenuous that it strained every relationship he had. When he'd lost Michael, that fragile hold had shattered, and when the angry and looking to blame A.J. had returned, so too had all the arguing.

Emily had only recently moved home because of Monica's cancer scare, and she still spent more time out of the house then in it. And it seemed that even though her oldest friend had just hurt her in a horrible way, she would still rather be in another's house then her own. The fact that she had chosen to recuperate in the house of a man who had once stolen his son Jason, and had taken his grandson away as well, only made the fact that much harder to swallow. His face slid into a familiar picture of contempt as he thought of Sonny Corinthos.

He wasn't going to let Sonny take away his daughter. He may have lost Jason, and now Michael to the man, but he wasn't going to lose Emily. Even as he made the vow to himself, his eye fell on the smiling picture of his children again. With a sad sigh he realized that, that Christmas was the last joyous one that this house had seen. "What has happened to this family?" Wearily he put the photo down and walked out of the room.

Lucky waited another couple of minutes before crawling out from under the bed. His hand throbbed, from where he had bitten it to keep himself quiet. Listening to their conversation he had wanted to scream out that it wasn't true. That it couldn't be true, he would never hurt Emily, he loved her, she was his best friend. And he certainly would never kill or shoot anyone. It wasn't true.

And yet.

And yet, he could smell the dried blood mixed with his perspiration that was coming off of his clothes. Now that he was free of the bed, he could see the blood on his hands, on his clothes, and he was terrified at how it had gotten there. His eye fell on Emily's floor length mirror and he was soon transfixed by the image he saw there.

He looked wild there was no other word to describe himself. His clothes were torn and dirty, but more importantly they were covered with blood, a lot of blood. He had bruises and cuts on his face and had no idea where they had come from. He could see a knife tucked in his waistband and even though he didn't recognize it, he knew it would be bloody, and he knew it would feel familiar in his hand.

But it was his eyes that scared him the most. They were the eyes of a stranger. A dim roar began building in his ears, it sounded like muffled screams, the screams of people begging for him to stop. The sounds built in his mind while he stared at his eyes that were wild, a little half mad, and unfocused. Shaking his head at what he saw, the noise seemed to grow louder and louder in his head, until it stopped suddenly with what sounded like the memory of a gunshot. Pulling his eyes away from his reflection he gripped the hilt of the knife in his hand and followed Alan out the door.

~P.C.P.D.~

He wasn't going to look.

No matter what, he wasn't going to look. He had decided not to look hours earlier, long before the file had actually landed on his desk. So when he first saw the deep, brown, manila folder on his desk Taggert ignored it.

There were limits to even what he could handle, and he wasn't so far gone that he didn't know that. The file would be beyond his limits. So for hours he had stuck to his guns and ignored the file, choosing instead to review his notes, Garcia's notes, the latest findings of the other officers, all in an attempt to ignore the manila folder that was lying in his inbox.

Reaching for his coffee, he took a glance at his watch, wondering where Garcia was. Instead of the hours, that he had thought had passed, he was dismayed to realize only 15 minutes had passed since he had entered the station and spotted the folder in his inbox. The realization of the time made him look again at the folder, and it seemed to mock him somehow. He knew that what was in it would cause as much damage as a bomb would cause, yet he couldn't bring himself to look away.

Taggert had no desire to remember his sister in any other way then her smiling at him while she teased him. Yet every time he blinked all he saw was her beautiful still face as he zipped the body bag closed, hiding her from view. That image would haunt him for the rest of his life, but he could handle that.

He would handle that.

But the images in the file were ones he knew he couldn't, handle, they were also ones he would never be able to forget … if he opened the file. So that's why he wasn't going to. "I won't," the voice came out as a whisper and the words were proven to be a lie as he immediately reached for the file.

Gripping the file so tightly in his hands that the edges curled up in his suddenly sweaty palms, Taggert raged a war with himself. The logical part of him knew that he didn't need to see his sister's death photos or even worse her autopsy photos. But there was still that nagging little voice in his head that was telling him to open the file.

"Be smart Marcus."

Jolted Taggert looked up into the concerned face of his friend before looking back at the file in his hands. "I wasn't going to look," he muttered defensively setting the file back on the desk. The instant it left his hands he was able to breathe again.

Mac Scorpio quickly picked up the file and set it on another desk, out of the Lieutenant's sight. "Anything new?"

"So far it's been real quiet. There are no new bodies, or beatings to report. Unfortunately for us that could mean that he has gone to ground somewhere. If he has, there's a good chance we won't be able to track him."

"You think he left town?"

Taggert hesitated for a long minute before shaking his head in the negative. "No. This is his home, it's his hunting ground. He feels comfortable here, he won't leave it. I think he's holed up somewhere."

Nodding wearily Mac leaned heavily on the other desk. "I hate to say I agree with you but I do. I don't think he's done yet."

"Garcia has a theory, but then again when doesn't he?" Taggert mused. "I have to admit this one sounds interesting. Garcia thinks that because Spencer has been getting more and more violent, a little crazier with each kill, because of that he will soon be out of control. If he has any control left that is, it will soon be gone."

"And once that happens?"

Taggert shrugged. "He becomes nothing but an animal that is hunting human prey."

Mac couldn't help but notice that Taggert was refusing to say Lucky's name. He wondered if it was by chance or by choice. It seemed that Taggert was already beginning to think of Lucky as an animal. And for most people it was easier to kill an animal then it was a human. Shaking off the disquieting thoughts he focused on his job. "So who's left? Lucky already went after Elizabeth, Emily, Audrey, Nikolas, G…" he faltered then forced himself to go on. "Who else would Lucky be apt to target? Luke's out of town again. Bobbie's at the Brownstone, I hear Laura's back in town but I haven't seen her yet."

Only half-listening to his boss Taggert got to his feet and moved away to study the timeline board again. Call it a hunch but he didn't think that Lucky would strike close to home this time, at least not yet. It would be too predictable for him to go after Laura or Bobbie right now, and even in his madness Lucky wasn't predictable. But he still felt Lucky was somewhere that was familiar to him, someplace he felt safe.

"What's going on?" A sleepy-eyed Alex Garcia smothered another yawn as he moved further into the bullpen towards his partner and boss.

"We're trying to figure out where Lucky will hit next." Mac answered when Taggert didn't.

"Good question." Garcia absently wondered if an IV of coffee fed directly into his veins would make him more alert, than just drinking the sludge that the office called coffee. "I doubt it will be the morgue. They only have one break-in a night."

"Someone broke in the morgue?" Mac shook his head in slight disbelief. "Why? Halloween isn't for several months."

"I know," Garcia rubbed his eyes, trying to open them. "The attendant called a little before midnight, to say there was a guy there, apparently he knocked her over in his haste to get out."

"Was there anything or anyone missing?"

"No. The file cabinets were forced open but only one drawer had been disturbed. You'll never guess which one."

"The W drawer for Elizabeth Webber," Taggert stated loudly. He kept his back to the others, his eyes focused on a name on the board.

Garcia looked over in surprise and nodded even though Taggert couldn't see it. "That's right. We got a partial description of the guy from Michele, the attendant, from the sounds of the description the guy sounds like…"

"Jason Morgan," again Taggert finished the sentence for Garcia.

"How the hell do you know that?" Garcia asked crankily.

"Because he'd have to see her, just like I had to see Gia, just like my mother had to see Gia. Until he sees her, until he knows the truth without a doubt, he can still hope. He can still pretend that her death was some horrible mistake, that she's not really dead. That all of this hell and agony is just some mistake or a joke," his voice was low and compelling.

"You see until you see proof positive with your own eyes, you still hold out hope, you can't help it. He needed to see her, to kill that hope. He had to kill that hope in order to do what he had to do next. Sort of like I tried to look at Gia's autopsy photos to prepare myself for the next step."

"What's the next step?" Mac asked quietly.

"To hunt Lucky down and kill him. As long as Elizabeth was missing, as long as there was a chance that she would be found alive somewhere, he had hope. Because of that, even though he's hunting Lucky he wouldn't kill him until he found her. Now, however, there is no reason for Lucky to live. The hunt isn't to find anymore, he's now hunting Lucky to kill him, nothing more." Taggert turned to face his friends then, and the cold smile of anticipation on his face alarmed them both.

"But Morgan isn't alone in his hunt anymore. As much as Morgan may want to find Spencer, I want to find Spencer even more. So it's a race against time, to see who catches Spencer first." Would he be the one to kill Lucky, or would it be Jason Morgan?

"If Jason does find him, Lucky won't make it to trial you know that," Garcia reminded him. "Hell Lucky will probably never even be found, or arrested, if Jason's hunt produces him first, Morgan will just make him disappear forever."

"What are you saying?" Laura Spencer stepped into the squad room, making her presence known. "You sound as if you want Jason to find him, even though you know he will kill Lucky if he does."

Taggert turned around his eyes and gaze were ice cold and focused on her. "You seem surprised."

Laura took a step away from the venom she could see in the other man's eyes. "You want him dead too."

Taggert's gaze never wavered but he didn't answer her.

"You're talking about hunting and killing my little boy," Laura cried out desperately. "Don't you understand that he's sick? He needs help, he needs therapy, he doesn't need to be hunted down like some animal."

"It seems to me that there is only one animal in this situation." Taggert shot back and felt nothing as the older woman's lip began to quiver and her already teary eyes began to overflow.

"Laura," Mac stepped in front of Taggert before the woman had a chance to respond. "The police are making every effort to find Lucky."

"What about finding Jason?" Laura gripped Mac's arms in desperation. "He's hunting my child, you have to stop him."

"Jason Morgan hasn't broken any laws. I don't have the power to arrest him."

In stunned disbelief Mac and Garcia turned to look at Taggert when the other man kept speaking.

"I have enough warnings on my work jacket that I'm not going to add to that by going after Corinthos or Morgan again. You see I'm not allowed to arrest either one of them, unless…" he paused and thought about it. "Well I guess the only way I may be able to arrest one of them is if they shot someone in front of me. Of course that is only a guess on my part."

Garcia didn't know what was scarier, the words coming out of Taggert's mouth or the half smile on his friend's face. Neither was appropriate for what had just happened and to put it frankly both scared the shit out of him. His eyes narrowed in speculation when the smirk vanished from Taggert's face and he turned expressionless.

Horrified, for a moment all Laura could do was gape at Taggert. "You are talking about Jason Morgan hunting my son. Jason Morgan, Sonny's enforcer, is hunting my son, you think he will kill him if he finds him, and you are treating this like it's some big joke," she screeched loudly. "How can you be so cruel?"

"Cruel? You have a weird definition of what's cruel lady," Taggert edged closer in spite of Mac's presence.

"Marcus," Garcia tried to stop his friend but Taggert brushed him off.

"You see what's cruel to me is telling a woman that her only daughter has been shot and killed by someone she thought was a friend. What's cruel to me is telling a woman barely hanging on in a hospital bed that the hope she has been clinging too is worthless because her beloved granddaughter is in fact dead. That she was…"

"Taggert," Mac tried to interrupt.

"…strangled to death after being beaten by someone she loved. You see that's what cruel to me Miz Spencer," Taggert drawled slowly. He felt nothing even as the woman paled. "Or maybe cruel is going out of town on a business trip while your son goes on a killing spree, and when you return blaming everyone else but the monster who is responsible, her son."

"Laura!" Mac stepped forward and took her arm. "Let's go to my office."

Laura looked down at her throbbing hand then back up into the expressionless face of the man she'd just slapped. She could see the reddening mark on his right cheek yet he made no move to touch it. Slowly she looked around at the now silent squad room and saw the curious stares of the onlookers. "You…you don't understand."

Taggert moved quickly and caught everyone off guard. "Then explain it to Ms. Spencer, explain this to me," he demanded shoving the now open manila folder in her hands.

Her eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the glossy photo pinned to the inside cover. The file and its contents of papers and pictures spilled on the floor when she began to gag.

"Taggert," Mac snapped. "Come on Laura, let's get out of here."

With a twist of her shoulders Laura slipped free of his hold. "Lucky's just sick."

"And Gia's dead," Taggert reminded her coldly. "So which one is more cruel?"

"No," Laura sparked back to life when Mac tried to herd her away. "I'll do it myself. If the police won't help me, won't help my son, then I will do it myself." With that she turned and ran from the squad room.

Mac called after her yet made no attempt to follow. With a loud sigh he finally turned to face his Lieutenant. "Marcus that was uncalled for."

Taggert blinked once, twice, then turned towards the duty Sergeant. "Do we have the final autopsy results on Elizabeth Webber yet?"

"On your desk."

Nodding, Taggert moved to his desk oblivious to the worried looks he was receiving from his colleagues and friends.

"Jesus he's snapping," Mac muttered when Garcia got in range.

Garcia shrugged. "Did he lie?"

Mac opened his mouth and then shut it quickly when he realized what Taggert had said was nothing but the truth.

~Penthouse~

Now that she had started Carly couldn't have stopped the words from coming if her life depended on it. "I left after giving Lucky my take on the situation and when he came back to work later on," swallowing hard she brought up the memory that had been haunting her. "He said he fell rollerblading back to work, that's how he explained it."

"Explained what?" Sonny asked quietly gently rubbing away the tear that had fallen unnoticed down her cheek.

"The cuts and bruised on his knuckles. His hands were so stiff, he could barely manipulate the camera at the shoot that day." Now knowing the reason for the damage, Carly felt sick to her stomach.

Covering his eyes with his hands he turned away from her. The darkness brought back memories of his own. Memories of bruises on Deke's knuckles after he had "corrected" Adela or had disciplined him.

"Let me out of here. Don't hurt her."

"Don't shut down on me." Carly gripped his arm and turned him around, pulling him out of the memory. "Get mad, throw things, but don't shut me out."

"Don't hurt her."

Blinking the words away Sonny stepped back from her. "Back off Carly."

"No I won't back off," she yelled. "I messed up, by not giving you the letter or telling you she called, I know that and I'm sorry for it, but I didn't know what was going on. You know that."

"I need some air," Sonny brushed past her and picked up his coat.

"Sonny…"

"Carly I can't hear anything else. Not right now." He couldn't explain to her how the memories were getting messed up in his mind. He knew they were talking about Elizabeth, but she kept turning into his mother, and Lucky into Deke, with everything he heard. He couldn't help but remember all the times that Adela and him had paid the price when well-meaning friends had commented on the bruises on Deke's hands.

"No you are not walking out on me over this." Carly moved quickly until she was blocking the door. "I admitted I messed up, but so did Elizabeth. She could have told me. She could have said I need to see Sonny because Lucky is beating me."

Sonny frowned and took a step back but Carly closed the distance.

"Even if no one in this town believed her. Even if everyone called her a liar to her face, myself included, you never would have." Carly knew he was listening when he stopped backing away. "You would have, if not believed, you would have still helped her no matter what because that is who you are. You would have helped her because Jason would have wanted you too. But more importantly you would have helped her because of your past. If there was the slightest chance that Lucky was hurting her you would have tried to save her…"

Carly kept talking even when he moved past her and opened the door. "You would have tried to save her, because you weren't able to save your mother. You know that, I know that, Elizabeth should have known that. She should have said something."

Sonny hesitated for a long moment then moved out of the door into the hall, pausing for an instant by the guard. "My family goes nowhere alone." The guard nodded and Sonny moved on.

"God Sonny," Carly whispered as the guard silently closed the door. "I'm sorry for what I did, but you know I'm right about Elizabeth."

~Quartermaine Mansion~

"I just don't see how you can let Emily stay in the home of that thug," Edward Quartermaine bellowed for the third time in five minutes. "He is nothing but a common criminal, and that darling girl should never be allowed within 5 feet of him."

Monica sighed wearily and moved to the sterling silver tea service. It was mornings like this she wished Lila hadn't banned the presence of coffee in the mansion. Sometimes tea just didn't have enough kick.

"Are you listening to me Monica?" Edward demanded. "You call yourself a mother. It's an absolute disgrace, leaving your injured daughter to recuperate in…"

"Oh put a sock in it Edward," Lila Quartermaine's tone was quiet but her words were backed with the quiet steel that she used to control the family, and her husband immediately turned to look at her.

"You see, now you've upset Lila with your behavior," Edward tried again.

"Father stop berating Monica," Alan interrupted the tirade. "As Emily and now Monica is so fond of reminding me Emily is over 18 now and we can't force her to come home."

"Like we could force her when she was under 18," Ned Ashton reminded the others and earned himself a glare from all of them.

"I will not allow you to browbeat Monica anymore," Lila informed her husband. "Mr. Corinthos' home is where Emily wants to be at the moment and we shall respect her decision, not attack her for it," turning her head she focused on the ever-present Reginald. "I would like to go to my room now."

"Certainly Lila," Reginald moved quickly pausing only long enough to give a look of warning at Edward.

"Lila you can't mean this," Edward wheedled.

"Edward I do mean it. We will give Emily the space she wants," holing up her hand she stopped the wheelchair's advance long enough to give her husband another reminder. "I mean it, if you go to see Emily before she calls you, you will find my door permanently locked."

Reginald shut the door on Edward's sputtering reply before pushing the chair towards the elevator in the back hall.

"Reginald have Archer bring the car around," Lila spoke after careful perusal of the empty hall. "And get me the package I had you store on the top shelf of my closet last week."

"What are you up too?" Reginald squatted by her chair. He was her normal partner in crime and judging from the gleam in her bright blue eyes she had a plan, but for once he was in the dark.

"I have a delivery to make and I need you to stay here and make sure that no one knows I've left."

"Lila…"

"Reginald if you disappear too, the family will know I'm gone and I don't want that. Now get me my package. I'll head for the kitchen, Archer should be there for his midmorning flirt with cook, he can drive me," Lila pushed the button and her motorized wheelchair took off with a lurch.

Reginald could only shake his head as she rolled away, Lila never missed a trick.

Lucky waited until the hall was empty before crawling out from under the divan and moving towards the now closed study door. With a final look around he opened the door slightly, being careful to stay out of sight he went back to his eavesdropping.

"I don't care what Lila says, Emily should be here," Edward blustered defiantly but his voice was a lot quieter then it had been.

"Maybe she can't stay here," the redhead who had been quiet finally spoke up. She wasn't surprised to find two pairs of now hostile eyes focused on her along with curious and wary ones.

"What do you mean by that?" Edward demanded.

"Yes Skye, why don't you enlighten me?" Monica asked with barely concealed disdain.

The elegant Skye Chandler Quartermaine rose gracefully from the couch and moved to get more orange juice. "From what I've heard Lucky Spencer used to have free run of this house. How many times has he or Elizabeth been in this house? Been in Emily's room?"

She paused for an answer but the normally vocal Quartermaine's were strangely silent.

"Maybe the idea of being surrounded by the memories, the ghosts of happier times, she had here with them is something that Emily can't handle right now." Her eyes dimmed in sadness. "It's hard dealing with ghosts, believe me I know."

The enormity of the situation finally began to sink in and Edward moved towards the French doors to look at his wife's beloved roses. "I can't help but remember how many times I would turn around and there would be Lucky or that Eckert boy running through the house with Emily. And all three of them were chasing that overgrown fleabag of Spencer's."

"They were also chasing Annabelle and Raoul," AJ Quartermaine reminded his Grandfather. "Whatever happened to Raoul?"

~*~*~

Lucky closed his eyes, the memory of the sad looking brown-eyed girl came to him. The memory of her laughter, that sounded rusty because she hadn't used it in awhile, finally coming out of the girl, when Foster had knocked her over. It had only grown when his mutt Foster and the purebred Annabelle had an offspring named Raoul. Edward had almost had a heart attack.

The smile slid from his face when the sad eyes of Emily Quartermaine changed into eyes filled with fear and pain. Both of which he caused her.

"Lucky stop you're killing her."

Shaking Emily's voice out of his head, his hand tightened on his knife and he focused on the room again.

~*~*~

"I can remember seeing Lucky and Elizabeth at the New Year's Eve man auction that Katherine arranged a few years ago. Before all this madness started." Edward focused on his newly returned Granddaughter Skye and his eyes sparkled in memory. "Elizabeth was my date yet she only had eyes for young Spencer. She must have seen his mother in him. Laura was the worst secretary I ever had, but there is such a light inside of her, or at least there was until Luke Spencer got his hands on her…"

"Grandfather," Ned cutoff the tirade.

"Young Spencer couldn't take his eyes off her either, I remember…"

~*~*~

"You look beautiful," Lucky whispered to the vision in front of him.

"You think so?" Elizabeth turned around slowly, showing off her new gown.

"I'll have the most beautiful date there."

Lucky blinked the memory away and another took its place. Elizabeth lying on the ground underneath him, his hands were around her neck, and he was choking her. He could hear Emily yelling at him to stop and tried to pull him free, but he had kept squeezing until the light in Elizabeth's beautiful eyes had dimmed and her struggles had stopped.

Lucky let out a strangled moan shaking his head in denial, yet the picture wouldn't leave his mind.

~*~*~

"They reminded me so much of Lila and myself that night. They were so in love, the future was waiting for them, the world was theirs." Edward sighed and blinked back the unexpected rush of tears. "And now look at them Elizabeth dead by Lucky's hand. It just doesn't make sense."

Recognizing his pain Monica stepped behind her infuriating father-in-law and rested her hand on his shoulder. "No it doesn't Edward."

"As much as I hate to admit it, Emily is probably safer at the penthouse," A.J. spoke up quietly.

"What?"

"If Skye is right, she would be haunted by the memories of Lucky and Elizabeth in this house. I doubt she has any memories of them at Sonny's house. And you have to admit that his security is better then ours. Hell Grandfather you couldn't even keep his dog off the property how will you keep Lucky out if he wants to come in?" A.J. cut off his protest before the old man could even form it.

~Penthouse~

"I'm sorry my orders are specific, no one is allowed in."

"I need to see Sonny," Laura hissed. "And I'm not leaving until I see him, so you might as well open the damn door."

"What the hell is going on?" Carly demanded jerking the door open her expression falling when she recognized the visitor. "Laura what do you want?"

"Carly I need to see Sonny or better yet Jason," Laura took advantage of the open door and moved into the penthouse.

With a roll of her eyes, Carly slammed the door closed before turning on her aunt by marriage that disliked her as much as she disliked Laura. "Sonny's not here Laura, so why don't you leave."

"Carly please I need to talk to Jason," Laura had been reduced to begging her business partner but she didn't care. She had to save her son.

"I can't help you there Laura, I don't even know if Jason is in town," Carly replied casually seemingly unconcerned.

"Don't give me that, I know he's in town and I need to talk to him now," Laura snapped.

"Why Laura? What could you possibly have to say to my brother?" Emily asked from the stairs.

Turning at the sound of the newcomer's voice Laura's face lost all color when she saw the bruises on Emily's face. "Emily what happened to you?"

Continuing down the stairs, for the first time in hours she didn't feel her injuries at the moment, in fact she didn't feel anything at the moment. She had been almost asleep when she'd heard Laura's voice. "Answer me. What could you possibly have to say to my brother?"

Laura saw the coldness in Emily's eyes and it confused her. "It's about Lucky."

"So now you want to talk about Lucky?" Emily snorted in disbelief. "A little late don't you think?"

"What?" Laura glanced at Carly who had moved closer to Emily.

"You know we all could have had a big talk about Lucky, but you wouldn't allow that would you? You just had to pretend that nothing was wrong with Lucky, even though you knew he was wrong, you knew it," Emily accused.

"Emily you don't understand what's going on here," Laura tried to explain.

"I don't understand? That's rich," Emily took a breath. "You know there was a time when I would have done anything to have you and Luke as my parents. When I couldn't stand to be around the Quartermaine's you made me feel so welcome, like I was a part of your family. But I never was, not really. I should have known you lied. You lie to everyone. When the truth came out about Nikolas, a child you abandoned, I looked past it. When you faked your death and let everyone, including me, think you were gone, I eventually got over it. I got over it because you were the great earth mother figure Laura Spencer, and you had so much love to give."

The tears were forming in her eyes but Emily dashed them away to concentrate on Laura. "I watched you almost destroy yourself when Lucky died, then slowly rebuild when he came back. I knew how much you loved your family, that you do anything for them, sacrifice anyone for Lucky."

"Sacrifice?"

"I mean you walked away from your son for years, to be with Luke. You fought to convince everyone that Lucky was just fine. You even let everyone think it was safe to be around Lucky, when you knew he was sick."

"Helena…"

"To hell with Helena, I blame you and Luke. I blame your damned Spencer pride," Emily staggered closer. "Take a good look at what your pride does. This is what your beloved son did to me."

Laura flinched when she saw the bruises up close and personal, the tears falling rapidly from her eyes. "You have to know…"

"Save it or better yet tell it to Gia's mother and brother, or Cal's family, or the girl that your son tortured to death, they might still be at the morgue, you should be able to catch them there if you hurry," Emily started to pant as the anger rolled off of her. "Or go see your forgotten son Nikolas, the one you claim to love so much, the one who is lying in a hospital bed because of Lucky. The one who just lost the woman he loved because of Lucky."

"Emily you need to calm down and breathe," Carly cautioned the girl.

Putting her hand on her side trying to stem the pain that was radiating from there, Emily couldn't stop she had to finish this. "Or go tell Mrs. Hardy, if she's alive that is. Or how about Elizabeth?" She sucked in a deep breath. "Oh that's right you can't tell her because I watched Lucky choke her to death."

Laura staggered back at her words.

"Emily let's sit down," Carly tried again.

Brushing off Carly's concern she advanced on a woman she had once loved. "You know what? I don't blame Lucky for this. I blame you. I blame Luke, and I blame Helena. We are all paying the price because of some twisted, stupid war that began before Lucky, Nikolas, Elizabeth, and I were even born. And because of that war, Lucky was turned into a monster. And you, because of your arrogant belief that you could handle anything because you knew your son's heart, or Luke's arrogance because he loves the fucking game so much, were all paying. You didn't even warn us. You didn't even tell us that Lucky was in trouble. You just let us be around him when you knew he wasn't right. Christ you even left town," Emily bent over suddenly in pain.

"Emily," Carly quickly grabbed Emily. "Get out Laura."

Moving forward in concern Laura couldn't help but try to explain. "Please Emily I'm just trying to protect…"

"Bull," Emily fought past the pain and faced her. "Elizabeth was the one who tried to protect us, even if she did go about it in the worst way possible. Even though he beat her, she still tried to protect me, Nikolas, Lulu, even Gia. She never let us alone with Lucky did you know that? While you've been gone and oblivious she's been the one protecting us. I even got mad at her for it."

Even reeling from Emily's accusations Laura couldn't help but try to defend her son. "He's sick, you can't punish for being sick."

"You know I hope Jason does find Lucky. I hope he does kill him." Emily admitted tonelessly.

Laura gasped.

"I don't want Jason to kill him out of vengeance but to save him. Because if my friend Lucky ever learned what he did it would kill him. My friend Lucky couldn't live with what he's done. My friend Lucky died in a fire. A fire that was set years ago by his parents and Helena. I only hope Jason can end his torment." Her breath was coming in shallow pants, each one causing more and more pain to her damaged ribs. Finally she collapsed back against Carly. "She didn't even warn us."

"Pete," Carly yelled.

Pete threw the door open.

"Get her out of here, and don't let her back in," Carly gestured to Laura.

Laura was frozen in place, the weight of Emily's accusations hitting her. The knowledge that her son had caused so much damage, finally sinking in when she heard the truth come out of the mouth of his oldest friend. "I'm sorry."

"Tell that to Elizabeth the girl you once said you loved like a daughter," Emily shot back viciously before closing her eyes and slipping into unconsciousness.

"Pete." Carly snapped.

Shrugging off Pete's hand Laura headed for the door. "I'll leave, help Emily." She turned back in time to see the large man gently pick Emily up like she was a broken doll and head up the stairs.

Carly stalked over to the door. "You have always looked down on me, you've always considered yourself better then me. But I can live with the damage I caused, can you? God I pity Lulu she's the real victim in this," with that Carly slammed the door in Laura's face.

Moving like a zombie Laura headed for the elevator. Images of her son dancing in her head. The day he was born, his first smile, his first word, his first step, his first day of school, holding Lulu, playing with Foster, in the hospital recovering from being shot, dancing with Luke at the Nurse's Ball, the look on his face when he saw Elizabeth.

"My friend Lucky couldn't live with what he's done."

"Helena." She whispered as the elevator doors closed. It was time she paid.

~Quartermaine Mansion~

Lucky staggered out of the bathroom, his hand covering his mouth. The sick feeling was gradually passing but the memories weren't. Since hearing the Quartermaine's talk all he could see was himself hitting people, hurting people.

"No it wasn't me," Lucky whispered moving towards the mirror in Emily's room again. "I'm not a monster."

Shaking his head he jolted when the mirror seemed to shift its image. Instead of seeing himself he saw Elizabeth. Her neck was livid red with bruises, marked by fingers, his fingers. Blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth and she had bruises on her face. Her eyes were half-open and unfocused.

He could only whimper when he saw himself, when he remembered, wrapping her in a red blanket, hiding those eyes from view. "Oh God, it's true."

"I'll bring it down Dr. Quartermaine," Reginald called out before pushing the door open. He had only taken a step when he saw a wild looking Lucky Spencer. His eyes dropped to the very large and bloody knife that the boy was gripping in his hand. "Oh boy."