Fettered Ties

Author: Loke

Email: gentleicehotmail.com

Rating: PG-13, for violence, sprinkles of bad language (f-word included), and dark themes. (Will change later on, maybe, if I get complaints)

Summary: Courtney was gone. Grief drove Jason away, and, in his absence, I became what I despised, but also what I loved with such fierce and fatal loyalty. I became my brother, for my brother, in his name and in pursuit of what he wouldn't take. And it nearly killed me.

Feedback: loved and appreciated as always! It helps to know what you guys think, good or bad. Just be gentle, that's all I ask, lol.

Disclaimer: Sadly, and despite my many pleas, I still own noting associated with "General Hospital". I know… sucks to be me.

(a/n) peeks out So, I'm a royal butthead, aren't I? I did it again. I made a deadline promise and then I flaked. I'm sorry! Here is where I would normally say it won't happen again, but, come on, we all know it will. Heh. Anyway, read on and I hope you like! Don't forget to review! Loke

To my wonderful reviewers: Amy, Stephie1974, Joy, Marian, and Tamara: I'm short on time so I can't reply one-by-one, but I just wanted to take a sec to thank you all so much for your kind words and your continued support (you know who you are!). I'm pretty sure I'd just put this thing to bed if it weren't for you. Thanks for keeping me going!! I love you guys! Loke

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Chapter Five: let it burn

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Emily POV

"So, what are we watching?"

Courtney's voice filled up the penthouse and I, hunched over a stack of borrowed DVDs from Dillon, shot her a smile from my spot on the floor. "Um… right now it's between The Godfather—" I paused and we shared a mutual eye-roll as she unceremoniously plunked down on the sofa. "—Die Hard 1, 2, or 3, and… Executive Decision."

My sister-in-law's eyebrows pulled skyward, her mouth quirking into an almost-smile. "That's quite the testosterone driven selection you've got there, Em."

Sighing, I looked down at the movies and shook my head. "I know. The sacrifices I make for that man. But look it," I said, seizing a wayward DVD case from the coffee table and holding it out proudly for her to see. The movie I held in my hands was silly as hell, a true testament to my utter dorkiness, but I loved it. And I knew she did too. Amazing the things you learn about a person when you become cohabitant. Even more amazing was the fact that not another soul—except for Elizabeth—knew about my affinity for this eighties romance set in the Catskills. I considered it probably my darkest, most well-kept secret. And I found it royally cool to know I had gained a partner in which to bask in my geeky bliss. "Somebody did some shopping," I beamed. "Collector's edition and all."

The second Courtney's eyes locked with our mutual guilty pleasure flick, her whole face lit up and she lurched upright. "Our movie!" she squealed happily, something that was so not a Courtney thing to do. But after only a second of glee, her face fell sharply and she surrendered yet again to the enveloping cushiness of Jason's couch. "You might as well put it away, Em," she sighed heavily. "Your brother's never going to go for that."

"We don't know that for sure," I countered, shuffling on my knees across the floor toward her with hopeful eyes. "I mean, it's not all girly. There's sex. A couple times, too. That's bound to keep his attention for at least a little while."

Courtney turned a doubtful eye my way. "Em, what is it that keeps your attention during those scenes? Is it the actual sex, or more the fact that Patrick Swayze is all young, cut, and shirtless?"

Well, the woman definitely had a point. I sullenly chucked the movie back onto the coffee table and shot the pile of action movies a reproachful glare. "Bruce Willis here we come."

Courtney laughed. "Try not to sound so excited."

"Excited about what?"

At the sound of Jason's voice, Courtney and I quickly turned cheerful faces toward the figure descending the stairs.

"Movie night." Courtney said, a sugary brightness—which, when coupled with both our absurdly large smiles could have easily been construed as over-kill—dotting her every syllable. But we didn't care. We were going to break him, and this was our strategy. Kill 'em with kindness. Oh, yeah. Bring on the saccharine-y goodness.

Jason looked between us blankly, but clearly suspicious and rightly so. "We have a movie night?"

I nodded enthusiastically as I got to my feet. I could see the wariness in my brother's eyes as I approached him, but, on strict orders, I completely ignored it. I grabbed a fistful of tee-shirt and dragged him over to the couch. "We do now. Sit."

He obliged, still glancing between Courtney and I like we were both officially off our rockers. "What's wrong with you two? Your faces look like they're gonna break."

Courtney settled gracefully next to her husband, armed with a brilliant smile. "Jason, your sister and I have been thinking—don't even say it—and we've decided that we need something non-work-related to pass the time with around here. That means no hospital talk for her and no running off to 'handle something' for you." Courtney's eyes grew soft and I knew, just knew that she had him. Jason may not have been a movies and popcorn type of guy, but I could guarantee that in the next three seconds, she'd make him learn to be. "I want family time with my family, Jason. You know, something normal for once."

And the big guy caved. Like a house of cards in a hurricane. "Fine," he sighed, ice-blue eyes skating over the both of us with a half-smile. "I can do a movie. For you two."

"Perfect!" Courtney said happily, getting to her feet in a flash. "I'll go get the provisions."

As she winded her way out of sight to the kitchen, Jason spoke up again. "So, what are we watching?"

At the complete blank canvas of my brother's face, a conspiring thought took hold. Leaning forward from my perch on the couch, I palmed the DVD on the coffee table with ease. "Hey, Jase?"

"Yeah?"

"You like Patrick Swayze, right?"

For the life of me, I couldn't understand why that memory came on with such force, and at that particular moment. But as I stared at the platinum blonde across from me, I became eternally grateful for the recollection. It allowed the whole situation to settle into absolute clarity, to crystallize before me.

Those happy moments of the day Courtney and I forced Jason to watch that insanely cheesy movie, were moments I would never have again. Something the man seated to my left would never have again.

And Faith Rosco was to blame for that.

And Faith Rosco would pay for that.

Today.

Folding my hands demurely atop the cheap folding table's battered surface, I smiled slow and confidently at her. Oh, if she only knew what I knew. "Well, Faith, we've assembled here-at your request—and still you have yet to speak your mind. Do you plan on sharing with us why we're all gathered so cozily, or do you think, perhaps, I can draw my own conclusions?"

Faith's eyes sparked, a twitter of evil swirling in the pale blue, and she smiled. Broad and sinful. "I think we all know what kind of conclusions you'll draw, Emily." Her eyes swept past me and landed once again on Jason. "So much like your brother you are. When all else fails, blame it on Faith. A tad predictable, don't you think? A little 'been there, done that'?"

I unsuccessfully smothered a snicker and leaned forward across the table. I had expected her to play out the old 'woe is Faith' angle, about how everyone and their mother constantly have the audacity to believe the worst of her. I just thought that this time, maybe just this once, that she would get it through that pretty blonde head of hers that making a game out of this was a very, very stupid thing to do. I suppose that should have been the tip-off right there. Faith and smart just don't go together. "Are you saying that I'd be incorrect in my assessment? Because if you are, I'd love for you to come out and say it, Faith. After all," I goaded her, using a sweep of my hand to gesture to the room's on-edge occupants. "You're among friends. Why don't we just cut the crap and get right to it. Deny you're involvement in my shooting, Faith. Come on. I dare ya."

Faith pressed a pale hand to her chest and rounded her mouth in perfect shock. "Emily," she gasped. "How could you ever think that I would do something like that? I mean to you, of all people." She swapped the shock for a lippy pout; while her eyes still managed to look like she had them on loan from the devil. "Sweetheart, don't you know how concerned I was to hear about your misfortune? Didn't you get the roses I sent you?"

"Oh, yes," I said dryly. "The dead ones. Lovely."

"Well, I thought so." She giggled, and leaned back in her chair, looking so smug all I wanted to do was stuff my handbag down her throat. Later, I told myself, trying to coax down the fire I could feel curling in the pit of my stomach, just hold onto the anger for a little while longer. Smile and push through. Focus on the endgame. You can do this.

"You know what, Faith?" I leaned forward on the table abruptly, and put on the brightest, most docile smile I could manage right then, the same one that had the whole town convinced of what a wonderfully delightful woman I was. If they only knew. "Right now I'm not really interested in what you think." I coasted my gaze to the dark Venezuelan seated just to her left, the thus far silent, dark Venezuelan. Come now, she couldn't honestly have thought that one would have escaped me. The 'A' in A&R Incorporated playing it all stoic and mute at a pivotal meting between holding powers in PC? Uh-huh. Sure. Somebody was being kept on a leash, and I intended to find out why. "I'm interested in him."

"Get in line, Babycakes." Her smile faltered just a bit as the deflecting quip rolled off her tongue. It was tiny, but it was there. And it made my day. Lorenzo, on the other hand? The man was all smiles. Be still my heart.

Not.

"Lorenzo," I purred, eliciting the anticipated smirk from him and stutter of movement from both Johnny and Jason. "You've always been a very vocal man, or at least that's what I've gathered from our past dealings. Yet still you've sat there tonight as merely a bystander, watching. Not talking. At all." I tilted my head to the side and regarded him thoughtfully, knowing that my new 'approach' to him was transparent as hell, but also knowing that he didn't seem to give a damn. Not judging by the hungry flicker in his eyes as they dipped to places where one ought not to be gazing at a married woman. "I find it incredibly hard to believe that you haven't anything significant to contribute to this conversation. After all, you are Faith's… partner; this has everything to do with you."

He blinked and then smiled. Slowly and disgustingly confident. Did I mention he had a bit of an arrogant streak? Yep. Like a mile wide. "I fully trust Faith can handle this, Mrs. Cassadine."

"And that, I'm afraid, was your first mistake," I said, earning a glare from Faith as she snaked her arm around his. I eyed the display with evident disgust. "—well, maybe not your first. But, if you speak up now, perhaps we can make it your last."

"Mrs. Cassadine, are you implying that I know something more about the attempt on your life? Do you think I'm withholding information?"

"No," I said, straightening rigidly. "I don't think you're withholding. I think you're lying."

Faith blew out a haughty whoosh of air and stood, leaning over the table with her palms flattened against it, making the mistake of getting dangerously close to being in my face. "Oh, gimmie a break, sweetheart. Haven't we already been through this? It isn't my fault you almost got yourself toasted like little Courtney Cotton Tail did." she whispered cattily.

Jason, Johnny, Dillon, and Max were on their feet before her sentence even found completion. My three other guys that were there, Eric, Christopher, and Ron, had drawn closer around the table as well, anticipating the worst. I waved them off and stood, drawing myself up my full height, which, in those heels, happened to be about two inches taller than her. "Toasted…" I drew out the word, testing it like I'd never heard it before, savoring how the perfectly the woman had set it all up. Couldn't have scripted it any better myself. "What an interesting choice of words, Faith."

She crossed her arms and stared back at me with that look of superiority she always had when dealing with me. She never took me seriously. Always assumed I was just a little girl playing at being the Big Bad. Well, you know what they say about making assumptions, right? Exactly. "Yeah," she snapped. "You know, as in dead. Deceased. Gone the way of all flesh. Pushing up daisies." She paused and batted her lashes. Her eyes flicked to Jason before settling back on me, the pale blue orbs dancing with a hateful glee I was confident only she could pull off. "Being Courtneyfied."

And that was it, all it took to send Jason through the roof. He lunged across the table violently, grabbing a fistful of Faith's signature platinum blonde hair. Her men—Alcazar not included—sprang forward but it was too late; Jason had her head pinned to the table before I could even blink, secured ruthlessly against the scarred tabletop with one hand, while the other held a glinting .44 Magnum to her temple with such force I knew for sure there'd be a bruise there when he let her go. If he let her go.

"Say it again, Faith," he goaded her, his voice raw and unhinged, seething but still quiet. In short, scary as hell. "Just say it again." I winced as he drew her head up and slammed it back down. The table creaked violently and I looked up, suddenly aware that my brother's rage wasn't the only show going on. The room was in stand-off. Faith's three men had drawn on us, but my guys—even Dillon—were returning the favor, looking wicked in the process. With Alcazar still sitting, and smiling, the count was six to three. A win my book.

"You don't have the right. You're not even good enough to say her name." And once again my attention was diverted. Jason's face was right next to Faith's and—good, God—I could feel his hate for her running off him like electric current, dwarfing mine with startling ease.

She twisted in his grip but still didn't dare speak. Smart girl. For once. I moved forward tentatively, not really understanding why I was trying to stop this. I wanted her dead, after all. This was a good thing. But then why did it seem so wrong?

And then it dawned on me.

This wasn't his place anymore. He'd abandoned this cause long ago. This was my revenge, not his. "Jason—"

I wasn't allowed to finish as my brother's eyes clamped frantically onto mine, cementing me to my spot. "This is what you want, isn't it, Em?" He jabbed the gun's point deeper into her temple, coaxing a fearful shriek from Faith. "For me to kill her? To snap and put a bullet in her head right here? Isn't that why you wanted me to come tonight? So I could end this like you wanted me to all those years ago?"

No. That wasn't what I wanted. I wanted you with me because I miss you, because despite what I say I need you, because I once I end this, I want to have you close by again. Like before. I just want it to be like before. Absurdly, I thought all of that as he stared at me. But thinking it and actually saying it are two completely different things. I still wasn't ready for that admission yet, didn't know if I ever would be. So, instead, I kept his gaze and tried my hardest to soften it with my own, but it didn't seem to be working. "Does it really matter what I tell you right now? You already believe that's the truth or you wouldn't have said it."

He shrugged, an utterly foreign hopelessness to the movement. "I don't know what to believe. I don't understand what's going on here anymore, Emily." His eyes swept the room and then settled back on me with the same look he'd used earlier that night in my bedroom. The one that made me feel hollow and fake. Like a liar and a fraud. "This isn't you. You don't play these games. You don't sit across from filth like this—" He shook Faith violently again. "—or like him—" He glared at Alcazar, who still seemed to be absorbing it all in stride. "—and try to make deals. You're my sister, Emily, you're not Sonny."

That, I hadn't been expecting. "You think I'm like Sonny?" I couldn't actually believe he'd just drawn that similarity between me and his former mentor. That was just… frighteningly accurate.

"You're acting just like him. You're cold and despondent, you shut down and push people—me—out, and all you ever do is punish yourself." He untangled his left hand from Faith's hair, but still kept his gun planted against her temple. He dipped his gaze and just stared at her for what seemed very much like an eternity, his chest heaving up and then down, his breathing echoing off the tin walls in the deathly quiet space. "This won't change anything, Emily. It won't make it stop hurting," he whispered, and I noticed his finger ease off the trigger, but only slightly.

And, unbidden, a flash of pure defiance tore through me. "You don't know that," I spat viciously. "You don't know what seeing her die will stop or start for me. Not even I know that."

He looked up then, and I can't rightly tell you what it was that I saw in his eyes. But whatever it was gave me the sudden, overpowering urge to cry. It was that powerful. That raw. Thank God he didn't keep it up for long.

His finger slid back against the trigger and his eyes narrowed upon his target and I wondered if this was how he used to look when Sonny would order him to take a life. If this was the place he'd force himself into just so he could pull the trigger. "Then let's find out. I'll kill her now and you can tell me what it makes you feel." Blue met brown again in the only way we knew how to anymore. Intensely. Bitterly. "Because I know how it makes me feel. And it isn't better. Yeah, killing someone settles the score but it leaves you hallow inside. It leaves you cold. Just as cold as their bodies when you're through."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This isn't what I wanted to do right now. Not here, not in a roomful of people. Certainly not in front of Faith. "Jason, just—"

"Have you ever killed someone before, Emily?"

And the question stopped me cold. My eyes bolted open in shock. Now, there was something I'd never expected my brother to ask me.

"I know you've ordered death; it's part of the job. But have you ever actually killed someone, with your own two hands—" Jason cocked back the hammer of his gun and Faith let out a desperate cry, but again chose to keep her movements to a minimum. This time Alcazar did stir, a furrow of uneasiness showing clearly on his brow. "—like this. Close. Right there. Have you ever seen someone take their last ragged breath because of something you did to them? Have you ever had someone else's blood on your hands, Emily, because you put it there?"

Slowly, I shook my head. No. I'd never killed anyone before. Not like this. Not like him.

"Good," he whispered, and just like that he released Faith. She leapt back from the table and all but ended up in Lorenzo's lap. "Try to keep it that way."

"Are you insane?!" Faith sputtered, clinging to her business partner and staring at Jason with wild, fearful eyes. "You almost killed me, you deranged son of a bitch! And for what? To prove a point to the little princess over here?!"

"Oh, shut your face, Faith, before I shoot you myself," I roared, and the blonde closed her mouth with a snap. I rounded on Jason who was making for the door. He'd just discredited me in front of my men. He—Jason—had actually toyed with me, and it really pissed me off. "Jason, what the hell was that all about?!"

He stopped short of the door and faced me. The fight had seeped from his body and I knew—in that way we had—that though he'd never intended to actually go through with it, he had been so very close to pulling that trigger. He'd been on the edge, and I'd placed him there. I'd wanted to protect him, but all I'd done was watch him as he teetered there, on the brink. "I was showing you that it doesn't always have to end in death, Emily. Not matter how badly you want it."

I laughed as soon as his words were out. It sounded cruel and vicious and I couldn't help but wonder if the monster I'd become had a name, because it wasn't mine. It wasn't any part of me, of the girl he wanted me still to be. But, as had become my new way, I ignored the annoying tug of conscience and plunged on with as much scorn as I could gather. This was so much safer than the alternative, and I couldn't believe I'd actually entertained thoughts to contrary. I hated it, but the bitterness fit me now. It was me. And I was it. "Let me get this straight. You—the great Enforcer, Jason Morgan—is preaching to me the benefits of benevolence, of a peaceful solution? Are you kidding me?"

"I've changed," he said, every syllable laced with an exhaustion that transcended the physical. It was a deep down tired that dwelled in your mind, and I knew this because aside from the bitterness, that feeling was in me also, weaved into every second of every day. Unavoidable and impossible to ignore. And it grated me, somewhere deep inside, to know that though the last thing I wanted was to be like him, this was just another thing we shared. Another thing that bonded us against my will. "I understand now how you used to feel about these things, how I know you still feel about them."

And once more the contradictions battling in me raged out of control. I understood so much more than I wanted to. I saw the pain in his eyes, the defeat. But underneath that, there lay an inexplicable resentment that I couldn't make go away, and an utterly childish need to hold onto that anger with everything I had. And, after only a split second of being at a crossroads with my brother, it truly didn't surprise me that the anger won out again. It always seemed to now days. And I don't think anyone could argue that point. "Like hell you do," I snapped at him. "You don't know anything about me anymore."

I held back a shiver as he looked at me, cursing for the millions time his disturbing ability to look right through me, to pluck out my truths and shoot down my lies without making so much as a sound. But when he finally did speak, it was with an assurance trademark to him. A quiet, forceful whisper that managed, somehow, to echo in my ears like a scream. "Don't be so sure of that, Emily."

And then he walked out. But I knew he wasn't gone. I knew he'd be waiting outside that door for me and I knew this because goddamn-it he was right. He did know me. He knew me better than I knew myself. And somehow I understood that would be the unraveling of it all.

But, again, I didn't have much time to dwell. Not two seconds after Jason left, Faith's shrill invaded my ears again. "Well, I hope you and your psycho brother got your kicks tonight, because I can tell you right now that it will never happen—"

"Faith, if I were you, I'd stop yammering and count myself as a very lucky woman." I glowered at the blonde and I reached for my handbag, drawing greedily upon every ounce of disgust and malice I felt for her, because that was the ticket right now. The only way I'd be able to go through with this. "You dodged a bullet tonight—literally. Don't expect that that to happen again. In fact, don't expect much of anything, because, frankly, with the way this little get together went, I'll be surprised if you make it through the night."

She gaped at me, incredulous. "Was that a threat, Baby Girl?"

"Nah," I smiled broadly as Johnny holstered his weapon and came to stand beside me again. "Threats have a tendency of being empty in this town. Call it more a forecast, if you will." With a nod to Alcazar for reasons I'm sure escaped everyone but me at that moment, I headed for the door, my men behind me.

"Oh, and, Faith, just a quick question," I called out over my shoulder, leveling the haughty bitch with one more pitying glance. "Are you sure you're warm enough in that little number?" I gestured to the skimpy black—big surprise—dress that clung to her Barbie-doll form. "You look like you're positively freezing."

"What the hell are you talking about," She sneered at me. "Of course I'm cold. We're all cold. It's the middle of winter out there."

"Huh," I said, a tiny grin springing to my lips. This was it. A little more… dramatic than what Jason almost did, but good nonetheless. And at least this way she'd be able to watch her end getting closer, knowing every horrifying moment that went by, that it was me, the little girl she never leaned to be afraid of, who finally did what Sonny Corinthos had been trying to do ever since he met her: Give her exactly what she deserved. "Well, let's see if we can't warm you up a bit, shall we? You have a nice night, Faith. This was fun. Shame we won't be doing it again."

With a wink and another dazzling smile I was on my way, leaving Faith staring after me, a realization that would never see the light of day slowly taking root in her bleached head.

After six long years, I was about to close a chapter in my life. And Faith was about to loose hers forever.

Cold and hallow? Well, I guess I'd just have to find out for myself.

Sorry, Jase.

Dillon POV

"Johnny, secure Alcazar and the guards and bar then the doors." I watched as Emily's reserve men scrambled into action, dragging Alcazar and Faith's three guards from the building at gunpoint. They were quickly neutralized; knocked unconscious and bound by the railing. At the same time Max and Eric were conjuring up an industrial chain and lock from seemingly nowhere, using it to trap the lagging Faith Rosco inside. I watched the doors give a violent sway as someone pushed heavily on it from the inside. Faith's yells of protest soon followed it. "—and grab the bag from the car." For a moment I thought someone else had spoken. There was a vicious detachment in Emily's tone that made my blood ice over with its foreignness. Something that cruel just didn't fit with Emily. Not sweet, caring, generous, fair Emily.

And it seemed I wasn't the only one to register the switch.

"Emily, no." In less than a second, Jason was in front of her. Now, I've seen many emotions play on my cousin's face before, you know, the cousin everyone says isn't supposed to be able to truly feel, but right then, clear as day, I saw a gambit of real life feelings showing in Jason's eyes. And desperation seemed the most resonant. "I know what you're doing and you have to stop."

And she laughed. Emily actually laughed. Right in his face. But there was nothing happy about it. No, this laugh was cold and mirthless to the core. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Emily. Please. This isn't who you are."

"Yes it is, Jason. Like it or not, I really don't care. This—" she paused, eyes blazing and pointed to the barred warehouse doors, the doors that were shaking violently as Faith pounded relentlessly against them. "—is exactly who I am. Get used to it, big brother." She went to step away, to move closer to the door, but Jason grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her back against him.

"Think about what you're doing, Emily. Think about what you're sacri…" But Jason's plea seemed to fade from his lips as he watched Johnny reemerge from the night, a dark bag over his shoulder.

And that's when it happened. My gut clenched in realization. Now I knew why Jason was fighting so hard for his sister to hear him.

From the ominous bag, the bag that had taken the words straight from my cousin's mouth, Johnny drew out a gas can. And doused the warehouse door with its contents. Dipping into his pocket, he pulled out a silver lighter that gleamed in the moonlight, smiling broadly at his boss, proudly… eagerly. The sight made my stomach turn over.

"All it needs now is the spark," Johnny said, holding out the lighter to Emily like an offering almost. "Care to do the honors, Em?"

Jason POV

I'd never wished Johnny ill-will in all the time I'd known him, but at that second, I wanted nothing more than to kill him where he stood. What the hell was he doing? Couldn't he see how close to the edge Emily was? Didn't he care what he was pushing her into? The son-of-a-bitch might as well have been handing her a bottle of pills instead of a lighter. It was the same damn thing—dangling a quick fix in front of someone who wanted something so bad they were practically shaking with need.

I felt her struggle in my arms and that was all the catalyst I needed. I may not have known what the hell I was doing there, but I knew why I was there. To help Emily. A concept that was once second nature to me. And maybe it would be again someday. All I had to do was find the right thread to pull on…

"I know you want her dead," I whispered to her in the way I used to, softly, devoid of judgment or anger, the mere feeling of it bringing back a surge of memories. Flashes in time when this was my place and my sworn duty. To be next to her, in front of her…standing between her and an abyss. At all costs. Doing whatever it took. Save and protect. Save and protect…

'…That girl in there loves you with everything she has, Jason; you were the only one she turned to. Now, I can't say that I'm devastated over what happened, but she is. He was her brother. Just like you. But now he's gone—forever—and she's in so much pain that she' doesn't know what to do with herself. She's in a bad place, and if you don't do something that darkness she's in is only going to get deeper and scarier. So, don't just hover by the door—go in there and put all your own feelings aside. Be there, Jason. Save her from this. Right now I think you're the only one who can….'

Oh, God, I hadn't heard those words in forever. But as they swam back toward me from the past I rarely visited, I knew it had to be some sort of sign. Courtney wouldn't let me skimp on my duties then, and, maybe, as illogical as it seemed, she wasn't letting me now. That same darkness that had seized Emily then, just after A.J.'s death, just before she took my name, was back again, with a vengeance. And just as I'd kept her from being swallowed up then, I'd save her that same fate now. What choice did I have? It was only us now. We were all we had anymore.

"Emily, look at me." Trying to sympathize with her need for vengeance wasn't the right thread now, making her remember the part of her that would be appalled by this was, because I knew that, though buried, that Emily was still in her, screaming in protest against this. At how wrong this was.

She went on as if she hadn't heard me, her eyes fixated on the lighter. God, I could feel how much she wanted this; it was coursing through her, buzzing just under the surface, and, to be honest, it really scared me. Seeing that need for destruction in her. "Emily…" and I knew my next words would be a cheap shot, but sometimes those were the only kinds that worked, the only choice you have. "What would Courtney think if she could see this? If she could see you. Right now. What would she say, Em?"

And when her eyes met mine, I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but it wasn't at all what I got. Because what I got was anger like I'd never seen burning right through me. Funny, she had always told I pierced her with my eyes…and right now I felt like she was staring a gaping whole though my head.

And it didn't relent, didn't waver, she didn't even blink. She just held it, looking at me like I'd stabbed her through the heart or something. Like I'd just done something utterly unforgivable, which, in a way, I had. Completely.

I'd broken one of my sister's rules. I tried to remind her she was human. How awful of me.

"Leave it," she called out to Johnny, backing away from me with such force I nearly stumbled.

I didn't see the confusion flash in his eyes, but I sure as hell heard it in his voice. Thick as mud. Sharp as broken glass. "Wait—hold up a second, Em, you can't be seri—"

"It'll keep, Johnny," she barked at him, eyes still steadily trained on me as she widened the divide between us. Yards seeming like miles, like years. Sure, I'd kept her from cooking up Faith extra-crispy, but at what cost? The woman looking back at me wasn't one that seemed even the least bit appreciative. No, she seemed…hateful. That alone felt like being shot. Not in the heart, but in the gut. Where you could really feel it. Where it hurt like hell. "We're finished here."

And it was true. Dead true. She was finished here.

We were finished here. In more ways than one.

TBC…

(a/n) Just a quick heads up. This chapter was originally part of a ridiculously large chap I was working on, but, after reading through it and nearly going blind, I decided to chop it up. So that means in a few day (and that is a promise, like, on my cat's life!) the second half w/ the botched meeting fallout and Elizabeth & Georgie will be posted. It's about 95% done; I just have to fill in the character thoughts on the ending. So, until then, enjoy this angsty-bit and I'll see you guys in a few days! Take care!! Loke :o)