Hello my baby's:

Here is a short, but hopefully fabulous chapter for you to gnaw on. Naturally, as I spend time and tears on these things, I shall expect copious reviews. Should that not be enough to motivate you, I'll appendage the thought that I have the next chapter, but I will but dangle it until I feel you are desperate enough to get it, a-la blackmail.

Bwa ha ha ha ha!!!!

Hey, it IS almost Halloween, which, if you hadn't figured it out, is ground zero for this story.

Quirks eyebrow Have I excited you?

And now:

Because It Is Bitter, And Because It Is My Heart

He felt the buzz of his phone in his back pocket, on vibrate because he had been at the library. They hadn't had the book he wanted though, and he walked out, pulling his phone out and answering it in a fluid motion.

"Morgan."

"Jason?" her was low, and wavery.

"Emily? What's wrong?" Don't let it be the cancer, he preyed to himself, don't let it.

"Oh God, Jason. It's..." But she broke down, unable to finished. He could hear her sobbing on the other end of the line, and his dread increased exponentially.

"Emily!" He called, trying to make her understand that he could wait no longer. A murmured voice could be heard over his sisters weeping, and the phone crackled as someone took it from her.

"Jason?" It was Bobbie, who sounded nearly as torn up as Emily.

"What is it?" His voice was somewhat louder than he meant it to be, but anxiety was coursing through him.

"It's Elizabeth."

"What?" He hadn't been expecting that. 'What about Elizabeth?"

"She's dead, Jason." Bobbies voice cracked. "She's gone."

Light exploded behind his eyes, and he felt his arm drop down, the phone clutched in his nerveless hand. He could hear his breath, ragged as he inhaled, and realized with surprise that he was still breathing. After a moment he heard Bobbie's voice, tiny and far off, calling his name.

He brought the phone back up, forced himself to ask. "How?"

"I think you should come to the hospital." Was all she would say. "Your sister needs you. Nikolas and Lucky are here but they're as upset as she is."

And he wasn't? He wanted to scream into the phone. It struck him how far apart he and Elizabeth must have grown, for Bobbie to assume he was in any state to console others. But he couldn't. Jason hung up on the woman. Instead of going to the hospital, he went to her studio. It wasn't hard to break in, and he stood just inside the door. The studio was a mess. There was a still life of pomegranates in one corner. Incomplete. On the couch, a sweater had been tossed aside, emerald green. And on the table next to the door lay a small notepad, with a printed heading saying "Things to do tomorrow, if I get around to it." On it she had scrawled a number of things. His eyes burned as he read it.

-Do laundry

-Buy vermillion paint

-Call Lucky

-RSVP for Em's wedding

-Call doctor

-Buy food

It was s bitter thing to look around and know that she would never return. Never do the things on her list. Never finish her painting. Nothing. He walked to the couch and picked up her sweater, breathing in her scent. He remembered how she told him about doing the same thing with Lucky's clothes after he 'died.' How she had laughed humorlessly, saying she didn't know why, because it didn't help. But he understood it. It was a compulsion. It didn't help.

But it was the most of her he would ever have.

He held it to him as he sagged onto the couch, closing his eyes and trying to understand how he was supposed to find peace in a world without her.

Jason woke up slowly. He looked sightlessly at his bedroom wall and attempted to muster the strength to get up. How could she be dead? It was so senseless, so... He blinked as the dream began to ebb. Took a deep breath when he realized it had been a dream. Another, horrible, incredibly real dream.

And he felt himself washed in joy. He hadn't lost her.

But he was beginning to think he might.

TBC