Chapter Thirteen

Inside the Recovery Room

Jack couldn't take his eyes from Livvie. That had always been his problem since he fell for her. There was just something about her that men, that he himself, couldn't resist, and to this day he still tried to fight that power she had over him.

"If you're not careful," Jamal warned in a low voice, "when she looks at you, you might just turn to stone."

That had Jack's gaze flying into his best friend's direction. "Funny," he muttered and then once again returned his eyes to Livvie. "When did everything go wrong with her?" He wondered aloud as he took in the deceptively calm look that had suddenly settled upon her face. He could almost believe that she was just an innocent babe in the woods who had lost her way, and that nothing that had happened was her fault.

Almost.

He could completely buy into her "it's everyone else's fault, but my own" act if not for the fact that Livvie had mastered the art of lies and manipulation, so much so that she had to be the very queen of it. Not a word that came out of her mouth had a ring of truth to it, not a single tear she shed had any real sadness behind it, and not one "I'm sorry" had a single ounce of remorse within it. The Livvie he knew and loved was gone.

"She changed right about the time those candles made an appearance in Port Charles," Jack answered in a disappointed tone. "How could a simple little ball of wax have such a profound effect on someone?"

Jamal watched Jack for a few silent moments, trying to figure out how to word his response. When he was sure he had the words, he sighed and then replied, "If you want to know the honest to God truth, Jack, I think she never really recovered from Caleb."

That had Jack glancing back to Jamal, his brow pulling together with his confusion.

"Not that he's a reason to explain away all of her misdeeds, and we all know how long that list is," Jamal amended quickly. "But look at it like this -- her coming in contact with Caleb was like her getting a massive cut upon her face. She could cover it up with all the make-up in the world and to everyone she'd look perfectly all right. But beneath it all is a scar that still remains from that encounter."

Jamal inhaled a long breath, folded his hands together and then laid them upon the table before him as he exhaled. "It only takes a little bit of soap and water to wash away what she was desperately trying to hide from us all. And what sparked the removal of her mask was her thinking Ali killed Kevin."

Jack shook his head as he allowed Jamal's words to sink in. "It's just so impossible to think of how far Livvie has gone off the deep end. You would think the person I fell in love with would surface once again, but instead she's drowning in this vindictive veneer she's had up since -- well, since whenever she put it up."

The sound of a chair backing away from a table had Jamal's eyes snapping towards Jack. What he found was his best friend standing and preparing to walk into Livvie's direction. "What are you doing, buddy?" He asked as his hand snaked out and grabbed Jack's arm.

He paused only a heartbeat in his movements to look down at Jamal as he said, "I'm going to go talk to her."

"What--" Jamal's hand fell to his side as Jack pulled his arm free "--what do you possibly have to say to her, Jack? You're just asking for trouble going over to her table."

"Thanks for the warning," Jack muttered over his shoulder at Jamal and then continued on to Livvie's table. As he crossed the room he searched his mind for whatever he was going to say to her. He wasn't exactly sure why he was doing this. Jamal was right, he was asking for trouble. But he couldn't help himself.

Moments later Jack found himself standing before Livvie's table staring down into her angry dark eyes. He knew she was about to lay into him, especially after their last meeting, but he didn't really care. He needed to have a conversation with her. A conversation only he could have with her. A conversation only a person who had been in love with her and knew her like he did could have.

"Is anyone sitting here?" He asked as he gestured to the chair that sat before him.

Livvie's eyes dropped to the object in question, her lips curling into a deep frown. "Yes."

Jack pulled out the chair and plopped himself down into it. "Thanks," he said casually, ignoring the murder in Livvie's eyes directed right at him. "We need to talk," Jack announced bluntly, meeting her gaze with his own.

"What could we possibly have to talk about?" Livvie wondered in an annoyed voice, her fingers toying with the napkin dispenser before her.

"I think you need help," he answered honestly, his hand reaching out to cover hers.

Livvie quickly withdrew her hand from beneath Jack's and snorted, "Excuse me?"

Jack pulled his hand back then rubbed both of them together as stated, "Help, Livvie. I think you need help. Something Jamal said made me realize that you do."

As she curled her arms beneath her breasts, Livvie demanded, "What did Jamal say about me?"

His shoulders lifted in a gentle shrug as he sighed out, "It wasn't so much what he said about you, but something that helped explain something to me about you."

"You know I don't give a damn what you or Jamal think about me. I'm perfectly fine and-"

"Are you?" Jack interrupted. His brow drew together in concern, true concern, as he leaned forward on to the table to close the distance between himself and Livvie. "Are you really perfectly fine? Because to everyone who knows you -- you haven't been behaving like yourself for quite some time. You've been this woman who thinks everyone is out to get her. You've done some horrible things and blamed others for your actions. You've been this person who doesn't want to take responsibility for their own life, you just want to take and take and take."

With a wild roll of her eyes, Livvie sat back farther in her chair and huffed, "Oh, what do you know Jack? Why don't you go play in your bike shop some more and leave living life to the grown ups."

Jack shook his head, a small grin upon his lips. "What happened to you, Livvie? What happened to the woman that everyone used to know and love? The woman you were before Caleb, because I know she's in there," he stated as he pointed to her chest. "She's in there some where wanting to come out and rejoin the people she loves, the very same people the person you are now has alienated."

She still refused to meet Jack's unwavering gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lucy," Jack reminded her. "She used to have your back, then you turned on her like a rabid animal. I'm not sure what your dad thinks about you, but you know he has to be trying real hard to not look at all the damage you've done. Then there's Alison. You've practically ripped out her heart and stomped on it, you ruined her life for no good reason. Then there's me."

That finally had her eyes meeting his. "You? What about you?"

Meanwhile…

Outside

Alison couldn't believe her ears. She must have misheard him. There was no way Rafe had said what she thought he had. Had he? Because if he had truly remembered her asking him to have a baby with her, did this mean that his memory was returning? And what would that mean for her and Rafe if it were?

"Well?" Rafe asked almost impatiently. "Was this a memory or is this just something that I desperately wish would happen?"

The excited squeak of laughter that left Alison sounded almost like a sob as both of her hands covered her mouth. She shook her head in agreement to what he had said, but realized that he wouldn't know exactly what she was saying "yes" to. "It's a memory," she whispered out, as she felt hot tears begin to shimmer their way across her eyes. "Oh God, Rafe, it's a memory."

Her words slammed into him like a Mack truck. A memory … a genuine, honest to God recollection of his past. A tiny morsel of information from a time that was so foreign to him. An image from a moment in his life that he had resigned himself to move on from. But apparently his past wasn't ready to be put behind him. It wanted to be reclaimed.

"Alison," he breathed out as his hands shot towards her face and claimed her cheeks, causing Alison's hands to fall between them. "A memory! Can you believe it, a memory!" Excitement poured over him like the sun from a warm summer's day, a day that would be imprinted upon one's mind for the rest of their life. An excitement that had him leaning forward and pressing his lips against Alison's.

A shocked gasp left her the instant his mouth met with her own. Then it only took a moment for her to relax against the familiar sensation of Rafe's skillful lips and her body to lean into the man before her. Being kissed by Rafe was like going home again. It was as though her never-ending thirst had finally been quenched. Like every disappointment she had ever experienced was washed away by his mouth and the gentle caress of his fingertips upon her cheeks.

It was pure Heaven being kissed by her angel.

Regretfully, Rafe tilted his head back ever so slightly, ending his kiss with Alison, so he could catch his breath. After he opened his eyes, Rafe reveled in the opportunity to gaze upon Alison. Her face was still upturned toward his, her eyelids still firmly closed, and there was a soft hint of a smile upon her thoroughly kissed lips.

"You," he began in a gently shaking voice, "you are so beautiful." The backside of his fingers then grazed across one of Alison's cheeks and he marveled at the silkiness of her skin.

"Rafe," she breathed out, her eyes now appearing and locking with his. "I can't believe you remembered that. Do you remember everything about that moment or just…"

As Alison's sentence drifted off, Rafe began to dig into the blackness of his memories, or lack there of, to see if he could discover whatever it was Alison wanted him to say. There obviously had to be something more than just remembering that she had wanted to have a baby with him or she wouldn't have asked if he recalled everything about the situation.

Rafe waded through the recent memories he had claimed for himself and couldn't find any hint of the information Alison was seeking. Not a thing. "I … I don't." His blue eyes never wavered from Alison's as he asked, "Would you fill in the rest of the gap? Tell me what it is you are wanting me to say."

He could see she was fighting with herself over how to answer him. Something in her eyes told him of how much she wanted to tell him everything, but the look upon her face read of the exact opposite. When she finally came to a decision, Alison opened her mouth to speak, but Rafe cut her off.

"Wait," he interrupted in a pleading voice. "I know what you're about to say. You're going to tell me that you want me to recover my past on my own. Normally, I would be all for that -- so I could be certain of my past, that it was what truly happened and not what someone force fed me." Alison tried to say something again, but Rafe held up his hand and pressed a finger against her lips. "Please … I want to say this."

When she nodded her head, he continued. "But everything inside of me tells me that you would be truthful. That you would tell me every detail of my life." Both of his hands then drifted to her shoulders and claimed them as he announced, "I trust you, Alison. I want you to tell me about my past. I can handle anything you tell me. I've waited long enough for my memory to return on its own, now I want to be filled in and I want you to do it.

"Now," he said in a firm voice, "there is nothing keeping you to your vow to let me remember on my own. So, tell me everything you know."

~*~