Tread Softly, For You Tread On My Dreams

It had been days since he had heard that snippet of song at Kelly's. Since he had had the dream. He still couldn't shake the feeling that Elizabeth was in some sort of danger. It didn't matter that he had guards on her twenty-four hours a day, with whom he check in with religious regularity. It didn't matter that it was, after all, only a dream. He felt like he had asthma, he was always out of breath. Or some sort of anxiety disorder. It was idiotic.

He jumped as there was a knock on his door. "Come in!"

Sonny walked through. "Jason, why do we have guards on Elizabeth Webber?" He wanted to know.

"Uh..." Jason wasn't sure how to answer. Somehow "I had a bad feeling" didn't seem like enough. But it was all he had. As was usual for him, he decided simply to be honest, telling Sonny everything. To Jason's surprise, he seemed to take it in stride.

"I'm sure it's nothing. But there's no harm in being safe." was all he said. Both men jerked as there was another knock at the door, this time more of a pounding. Sonny answered, his eyebrows lifting as Elizabeth herself stalked in.

"Why do you have guards on me?" She demanded. Johnny's head popped in the door behind her, his expression rueful. He mouthed 'sorry' to Jason, then disappeared.

"Well, I'll just..." Sonny clucked his tongue and jerked his thumb toward the door, edging out.

Jason had lucked out with Sonny, but looking at Elizabeth's face, he had a feeling his luck was up.

"Well?" She said impatiently.

"Just...being careful." He answered lamely.

She wasn't impressed. "You have an armed guard on me 24-7 to be careful? You're that worried I'll stub a toe?"

"No, I uh..." He sighed. "I had a bad... feeling..." It just got worse and worse.

"I don't need a guard, Jason."

"Can you just humor me?"

She looked at him, considering. "You know you're crazy."

"I seem to be. But I mean to have my way about this." His voice was steely.

"Fine, then. If you want to waste the time of your men, I guess it's up to you. It's silly though." She couldn't bring herself to be gracious, even though she had surrendered. "I had another reason for coming, actually."

"Really?" He sounded hopeful.

"Yeah. I was going through my studio, and I found this..." She walked back to the door as she spoke, opening it and reaching around the corner. "Here." She handed him something wrapped in brown paper. He grabbed it automatically, looking at her quizzically. "It's The Wind." She finished.

There was a thud as the painting dropped from his unexpectedly numb hand. They stared down at the wrapped bundle, lying on the floor.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth seemed actively concerned about him now. He was pasty white. She pushed him back wards and shoved him onto the couch. "I'm really worried about you. You've been acting weird for days."

For a moment, he was tempted to tell her everything. But what would be the point? If she didn't think he was nuts to be worried, it would be because she was worried, and he didn't want to upset her over something so trivial. It was a dream for crying out loud. So what if he heard that line from the song? It was a common song. And so what if she had handed him The Wind, bundled in brown paper. Clearly the dream pulled off of everyday elements. It was his painting, and she had wrapped it to protect it from weather while she brought it over. They weren't signs. They weren't omens. He had to get over this stupid fixation.

And focus on something else. Maybe the dream was something positive. His mind showing him what life without Elizabeth would be like. Clearly he still cared about her; otherwise it wouldn't scare him so much.

The thoughts had flown through his brain at a rapid pace, and it was no more than a second later when he turned to Liz, sitting beside him. "No. I'm not okay. I realized that there's something missing in my life."

"What?"

"You."

Stupidly: "What?"

"I miss you. Do you think you could give me another chance to be your friend?" Small steps, he told himself.

There was a pause. "No."

"Oh." He hadn't realized he would feel such a letdown.

"You are my friend. You don't need a second chance." She smiled sweetly. "If you wanted, though, and it's okay if you don't, cause I would understand, but, um, you could have a second chance at, um, being more than friends." She stumbled to a halt, crimson touching her cheeks.

A huge smile spread across his face. "I would love a second chance." He leaned in, kissing her softly, quickly, before pulling away. "Would you like to go to dinner with me this evening, Ms. Webber?"

"I would love to, Mr. Morgan."

TBC

(Chapter title taken from "He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven" by William Butler Yeats)

So, in case there are those who know that in fact, on General Hospital, on such and such a date, Liz gave Jason the painting, and everyone knows that, I'm sorry, and consider this my disclaimer for exact details.

Someone was confused about the story, so, a basic recap: Jason had a bad dream in chapter one, and now he's fighting all sorts of worry in chap. 1 and 2.

Questions? Comments?