Show: General Hospital
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 4
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Sorry about the delay, I've had a lot on my plate (2 other fics to update), and I've had a major case of writer's block for all of them, specifically this fic. Thanks for last chapter's comments. I'm glad you seem to like the darker atmosphere.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Jason Morgan was dreaming. When he had woken up in the hospital the first time, he had opened his eyes to a sea of unfamiliar faces – people who claimed to know and love him… people he didn't have a slightest recognition of or care for. He was told he was damaged… that he would never be *normal*, whatever the hell that word meant. He would never again be able to function properly… he couldn't dream, more than likely didn't have the capacity to cry or to appreciate the beauty of the three dimensional world.
But they were wrong. He did dream, and he did appreciate beauty. He had been taught to do so. He would never again forget.
Dark swirling colours swam behind his eyelids as he surrendered his mind, body and spirit to the unconscious. Thoughts of the past couple of months barreled through his mind, causing him to stir and moan softly in his sleep. The only thing that brought him peace was *her* face: soft, smooth, pale satin skin, beautiful chocolate curls and cobalt orbs that he felt he could drown in; her smile, her laugh like music. He had never been a poetic man – at least Jason Morgan wasn't; perhaps Jason Quartermaine had been – but simple words could never do justice to what he felt for her.
But along with admiration and respect, tinged with the slightest bit of lust, there was also pain. Pain that was a two-way street where the two of them were concerned. They both hurt each other in so many unimaginable ways, it was unearthly hard to understand why any of them could even stomach the sight of each other, much less hold on to the inkling of attraction between them.
But it was still there, a little weak after being buried and abused for so long, but still there nonetheless. Still waiting. Still hanging in the balance. It was blatantly obvious; it was well hidden. What a funny thing love is isn't it?
The dark swirling colours gradually became shapes and sounds, and Jason found his psyche journeying back to the night of Sonny and Alexis's housewarming.
Sonny had jokingly told his bestfriend of the conditions Alexis had set in order to move in with him: she had to draw up his divorce papers (again); redecorate his horrible apartment *and* buy a new bed. She'd worked wonders on the apartment, changing the morbid dark grey paint to soft pastel yellow, mixing and matching certain beloved pieces of furniture from her home with furniture that Sonny brought from storage. It was an unwritten rule that although there were curtains at the windows they would not be closed at all times, and the sliding doors leading to the small balcony would be fitted with bullet proof sun-room glass.
It was there that night while specially selected friends and family – a newly reunited Jax and Skye, Nikolas (firmly ensconced with his beloved cousin baby Kristina), Emily, Stefan, Bobbie, Luke, Lucky, Cameron, Gia, Zander, Ric, Courtney – mingled with the new couple, and Jason stepped onto the darkened balcony to get a breath of much needed fresh air. He didn't like crowds very much.
At first he didn't see her but, as his keen eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, he saw the play of the crescent moon as it spilt moonlight over her creamy skin and he caught the scent of vanilla that was her signature. She didn't seem to be aware that she was not alone, although in the open doorway, the noise from the party passed through. He stood there for a indeterminable number of seconds just watching her gaze at the lights of the city below. **She is so beautiful**.
Suddenly, she turned around, her dark-eyed gaze pinning him right where he stood, much like the time not so very long ago when she had woken up to find him watching her in her hospital room. Slowly, not breaking their gaze, he slid the door shut behind him, drowning out the sounds of the party inside.
A ghost of smile flitted past her lips before she turned back to the city before her. The butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. In those few seconds she had feasted her eyes on him: jeans, T-shirt… so familiar, so devastatingly sexy. Of course he didn't know what the sight of him did to her. She didn't think he cared.
This was the first time they had been alone since that night in her hospital room where he had not let go her hand and had kept her safe from her demons all night. She was disheartened that he had not returned. Of course he didn't – Courtney was back, after all. Of course she couldn't have known that he had come back, indeed kept coming back night after night, to hold her hand and keep her safe. She hadn't wondered why when she was in the hospital, she had slept soundly and safe but in her own bed, she woke each night, terror in her eyes.
She heard the rustling as Jason made his way over to her and sat in the chair next to her. She hugged her knees closer to her chest, the soft breeze causing the silky ruffles of the skirt to flutter slightly around her calves, and breathed deep, inhaling the masculine scent of leather and male that was all Jason.
She had so much to say to him, but how could one truly express the depths of one's emotions – gratitude, trust, respect, love – to someone you have not exchanged a civil word to in over a year? Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth, she couldn't seem to find the strength to open it, and his perpetual silence was not helping much.
Five more minutes of silence passed. Finally, Liz took a deep breath. Turning to Jason she said softly, "Thank you."
He had been waiting for her to finally speak up, but she had caught him off- guard with suddenness of the statement. "Thank you?" he echoed confused.
Liz nodded, and that ghost of a smile reappeared. "Yes, thank you, Jason Morgan."
"For what?" he asked, confusion carving an adorable furrow between his brows.
"I never thanked you for saving me that night. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."
"I was just doing my –"
"Your job," she interrupted, a little miffed at the emotionless statement. "I know," she continued hurriedly, " but that doesn't change anything. Thank you, Jason."
He didn't know what to say to those three words. 'You're welcome' was the obvious answer but that certainly didn't do justice. How could you say that the person who owned a part of your heart doesn't have to say thank you when you save them while your fiancée is less than fifty feet away without coming across as a hypocrite? The truth was that he couldn't. So he said it (you're welcome), and pretended not to notice when she swallowed a knot of hurt in her throat.
Liz turned back to the city lights. "I know things haven't been the best between us the last two years," she continued, so softly Jason thought she hadn't said anything. "But you were always there for me in the past before… before things fell apart between us."
Jason looked away. He knew she had really meant to say before you let her walk away without a fight.
"I could always count on you in the past…." she looked back at him, the intensity in her gaze affecting him to the core. "It's nice to know that I still can… that not all things have changed."
"Elizabeth –"
"No, don't say anything. I need to get this off my chest." She took another deep calming breath before plowing on. "We always promised to be there for each other, no matter what. We were *bonded* Jason… we'd seen love and pain and death… together. We always got through it *together*. But we *both* went back on our promise and it destroyed something that was so special, so important
"We didn't just ruin our relationship Jason, we ruined our friendship, and that was the unthinkable. We turned bitter and hate filled… we poisoned what we had. *I* poisoned what we had."
"Liz –" he broke in again.
"Please, Jason," she begged, the emotion in her voice, "let me finish." At his silent nod she continued, "When you and Courtney got together, I felt so betrayed, so angry, so hurt. My bestfriend and my aunt. That was one for the books. I wanted you both to hurt as much as I was hurting. My bitterness is what got us here today – unable to even carry on a civil conversation with each other…."
Jason took her silence as a signal that she was finished, but Liz began again. "But I'm not bitter anymore, Jason." Their gazes collided in the darkness. "It's taken yet another near-death experience for me to understand that life is too short to be crying over spilt milk. We had our chance to be together, and we blew it. We spent too much time hiding from each other, we forgot how to find our way back to each other. It's obvious that you love Courtney and I… and I love you both enough to let it be. It feels like I'm being flayed alive but I'll do it because I *do* still love you… be happy." She couldn't bring herself to add, 'with Courtney'. She wasn't that understanding.
Jason listened to her words with a degree of incredulity. One part of his mind (the guilty part) was partially relieved by her words, although he didn't know why. He was a grown man, he didn't answer to anyone, not his parents, not Sonny. Why should he be relieved because a certain petite brunette gave him her blessing? He should be insulted. But, of course, he wasn't.
The other part wanted to scream and yell at her that, no, she was wrong. This, of course, was the part of him that was hopelessly confused. That didn't know what he wanted. The part of him that had him staring at her in absolute confusion.
Time seemed to stand still as both of them took stock of the past few minutes. Liz was amazed she had said all of that – she didn't know where it came from. But although the weight of her bitterness had been lifted from her chest, it was replaced two fold by the weight of the hurt that settled over her heart. She had pushed him away again. What was she thinking? Jason said nothing – he didn't know what he could say to ease the hurt flitting across her face.
He knew in that same moment, however, that he wanted to kiss her more than anything. It was as if it were written in the stars so high above them. It seemed to be written across his face as well because as he leaned in ever so slightly, Liz's eyes widened in her beautiful face, but she didn't pull away. She wanted this as badly as Jason evidently did.
Just then, the noise of the party flooded the balcony again, and the light spilt through. "Jason? Are you here?"
Courtney's voice shattered the moment, and both of them repelled from each other like like magnets. They were sent crashing back into reality. Not wanting Courtney to know that he was not alone, he jumped to his feet and made his way over to her, taking her arm before she could reach for the light switch in the corner or adjust her eyesight to the dark and realize that he had not been alone.
"I was looking all over for you," she continued, looping her arms around his neck.
"I just came outside to get some fresh air." Courtney didn't know he didn't like crowds.
"Do you want some company?"
"No," Jason shook his head. "Let's go back inside." Courtney took his hand and made to draw him inside, but he resisted her hold for just a minute, turning his eyes back to the dark secluded corner where Elizabeth sat. She had turned back to the city again and so he didn't see her struggling to keep back her tears.
Now in his sleep, he tossed and turned, as his mind was flooded with memories of her and their short time together. Being found in the bloodied snow; waking up to the cherubic smile of Sonny Corinthos' daughter; taking her for motorcycle rides; the night she showed him The Wind; the night she refused to go with him to Italy and he felt as though a piece of his heart had been ripped out; their first kiss; the night he pushed her away without a fight; the relief of finding her alive in the living room the night of Kristina's kidnapping; holding her hand and falling asleep thinking everything would be much better if she'd just open her beautiful blue eyes.
Of course he couldn't know that in addition to dreaming, his 'damaged' mind caused him to mumble in his sleep, and he couldn't see when Courtney's tears started to fall.
Still, ignorance is bliss. In his sleep he could be a damaged man who damaged everything around him and not be conscious of the destruction around him.
TBC…
A/N: You like? I made the chapter a little longer than usual. I didn't know how to put into words all that I think they should have said to each other, but I feel as though they were horribly inadequate. Please R&R and be kind
BTW… did anyone catch Thursday's show (07.17.03) when Skipper punched that whore Faith in the face? I was like "Yey, Skipper!" Was it just me or did Skipper turn green with envy at the way Jason was looking at Liz? Could it be that there might be some actual Liason in the future? One can only hope… or find Shadow Phenix's bat and beat up the writers!
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 4
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Sorry about the delay, I've had a lot on my plate (2 other fics to update), and I've had a major case of writer's block for all of them, specifically this fic. Thanks for last chapter's comments. I'm glad you seem to like the darker atmosphere.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Jason Morgan was dreaming. When he had woken up in the hospital the first time, he had opened his eyes to a sea of unfamiliar faces – people who claimed to know and love him… people he didn't have a slightest recognition of or care for. He was told he was damaged… that he would never be *normal*, whatever the hell that word meant. He would never again be able to function properly… he couldn't dream, more than likely didn't have the capacity to cry or to appreciate the beauty of the three dimensional world.
But they were wrong. He did dream, and he did appreciate beauty. He had been taught to do so. He would never again forget.
Dark swirling colours swam behind his eyelids as he surrendered his mind, body and spirit to the unconscious. Thoughts of the past couple of months barreled through his mind, causing him to stir and moan softly in his sleep. The only thing that brought him peace was *her* face: soft, smooth, pale satin skin, beautiful chocolate curls and cobalt orbs that he felt he could drown in; her smile, her laugh like music. He had never been a poetic man – at least Jason Morgan wasn't; perhaps Jason Quartermaine had been – but simple words could never do justice to what he felt for her.
But along with admiration and respect, tinged with the slightest bit of lust, there was also pain. Pain that was a two-way street where the two of them were concerned. They both hurt each other in so many unimaginable ways, it was unearthly hard to understand why any of them could even stomach the sight of each other, much less hold on to the inkling of attraction between them.
But it was still there, a little weak after being buried and abused for so long, but still there nonetheless. Still waiting. Still hanging in the balance. It was blatantly obvious; it was well hidden. What a funny thing love is isn't it?
The dark swirling colours gradually became shapes and sounds, and Jason found his psyche journeying back to the night of Sonny and Alexis's housewarming.
Sonny had jokingly told his bestfriend of the conditions Alexis had set in order to move in with him: she had to draw up his divorce papers (again); redecorate his horrible apartment *and* buy a new bed. She'd worked wonders on the apartment, changing the morbid dark grey paint to soft pastel yellow, mixing and matching certain beloved pieces of furniture from her home with furniture that Sonny brought from storage. It was an unwritten rule that although there were curtains at the windows they would not be closed at all times, and the sliding doors leading to the small balcony would be fitted with bullet proof sun-room glass.
It was there that night while specially selected friends and family – a newly reunited Jax and Skye, Nikolas (firmly ensconced with his beloved cousin baby Kristina), Emily, Stefan, Bobbie, Luke, Lucky, Cameron, Gia, Zander, Ric, Courtney – mingled with the new couple, and Jason stepped onto the darkened balcony to get a breath of much needed fresh air. He didn't like crowds very much.
At first he didn't see her but, as his keen eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, he saw the play of the crescent moon as it spilt moonlight over her creamy skin and he caught the scent of vanilla that was her signature. She didn't seem to be aware that she was not alone, although in the open doorway, the noise from the party passed through. He stood there for a indeterminable number of seconds just watching her gaze at the lights of the city below. **She is so beautiful**.
Suddenly, she turned around, her dark-eyed gaze pinning him right where he stood, much like the time not so very long ago when she had woken up to find him watching her in her hospital room. Slowly, not breaking their gaze, he slid the door shut behind him, drowning out the sounds of the party inside.
A ghost of smile flitted past her lips before she turned back to the city before her. The butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. In those few seconds she had feasted her eyes on him: jeans, T-shirt… so familiar, so devastatingly sexy. Of course he didn't know what the sight of him did to her. She didn't think he cared.
This was the first time they had been alone since that night in her hospital room where he had not let go her hand and had kept her safe from her demons all night. She was disheartened that he had not returned. Of course he didn't – Courtney was back, after all. Of course she couldn't have known that he had come back, indeed kept coming back night after night, to hold her hand and keep her safe. She hadn't wondered why when she was in the hospital, she had slept soundly and safe but in her own bed, she woke each night, terror in her eyes.
She heard the rustling as Jason made his way over to her and sat in the chair next to her. She hugged her knees closer to her chest, the soft breeze causing the silky ruffles of the skirt to flutter slightly around her calves, and breathed deep, inhaling the masculine scent of leather and male that was all Jason.
She had so much to say to him, but how could one truly express the depths of one's emotions – gratitude, trust, respect, love – to someone you have not exchanged a civil word to in over a year? Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth, she couldn't seem to find the strength to open it, and his perpetual silence was not helping much.
Five more minutes of silence passed. Finally, Liz took a deep breath. Turning to Jason she said softly, "Thank you."
He had been waiting for her to finally speak up, but she had caught him off- guard with suddenness of the statement. "Thank you?" he echoed confused.
Liz nodded, and that ghost of a smile reappeared. "Yes, thank you, Jason Morgan."
"For what?" he asked, confusion carving an adorable furrow between his brows.
"I never thanked you for saving me that night. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."
"I was just doing my –"
"Your job," she interrupted, a little miffed at the emotionless statement. "I know," she continued hurriedly, " but that doesn't change anything. Thank you, Jason."
He didn't know what to say to those three words. 'You're welcome' was the obvious answer but that certainly didn't do justice. How could you say that the person who owned a part of your heart doesn't have to say thank you when you save them while your fiancée is less than fifty feet away without coming across as a hypocrite? The truth was that he couldn't. So he said it (you're welcome), and pretended not to notice when she swallowed a knot of hurt in her throat.
Liz turned back to the city lights. "I know things haven't been the best between us the last two years," she continued, so softly Jason thought she hadn't said anything. "But you were always there for me in the past before… before things fell apart between us."
Jason looked away. He knew she had really meant to say before you let her walk away without a fight.
"I could always count on you in the past…." she looked back at him, the intensity in her gaze affecting him to the core. "It's nice to know that I still can… that not all things have changed."
"Elizabeth –"
"No, don't say anything. I need to get this off my chest." She took another deep calming breath before plowing on. "We always promised to be there for each other, no matter what. We were *bonded* Jason… we'd seen love and pain and death… together. We always got through it *together*. But we *both* went back on our promise and it destroyed something that was so special, so important
"We didn't just ruin our relationship Jason, we ruined our friendship, and that was the unthinkable. We turned bitter and hate filled… we poisoned what we had. *I* poisoned what we had."
"Liz –" he broke in again.
"Please, Jason," she begged, the emotion in her voice, "let me finish." At his silent nod she continued, "When you and Courtney got together, I felt so betrayed, so angry, so hurt. My bestfriend and my aunt. That was one for the books. I wanted you both to hurt as much as I was hurting. My bitterness is what got us here today – unable to even carry on a civil conversation with each other…."
Jason took her silence as a signal that she was finished, but Liz began again. "But I'm not bitter anymore, Jason." Their gazes collided in the darkness. "It's taken yet another near-death experience for me to understand that life is too short to be crying over spilt milk. We had our chance to be together, and we blew it. We spent too much time hiding from each other, we forgot how to find our way back to each other. It's obvious that you love Courtney and I… and I love you both enough to let it be. It feels like I'm being flayed alive but I'll do it because I *do* still love you… be happy." She couldn't bring herself to add, 'with Courtney'. She wasn't that understanding.
Jason listened to her words with a degree of incredulity. One part of his mind (the guilty part) was partially relieved by her words, although he didn't know why. He was a grown man, he didn't answer to anyone, not his parents, not Sonny. Why should he be relieved because a certain petite brunette gave him her blessing? He should be insulted. But, of course, he wasn't.
The other part wanted to scream and yell at her that, no, she was wrong. This, of course, was the part of him that was hopelessly confused. That didn't know what he wanted. The part of him that had him staring at her in absolute confusion.
Time seemed to stand still as both of them took stock of the past few minutes. Liz was amazed she had said all of that – she didn't know where it came from. But although the weight of her bitterness had been lifted from her chest, it was replaced two fold by the weight of the hurt that settled over her heart. She had pushed him away again. What was she thinking? Jason said nothing – he didn't know what he could say to ease the hurt flitting across her face.
He knew in that same moment, however, that he wanted to kiss her more than anything. It was as if it were written in the stars so high above them. It seemed to be written across his face as well because as he leaned in ever so slightly, Liz's eyes widened in her beautiful face, but she didn't pull away. She wanted this as badly as Jason evidently did.
Just then, the noise of the party flooded the balcony again, and the light spilt through. "Jason? Are you here?"
Courtney's voice shattered the moment, and both of them repelled from each other like like magnets. They were sent crashing back into reality. Not wanting Courtney to know that he was not alone, he jumped to his feet and made his way over to her, taking her arm before she could reach for the light switch in the corner or adjust her eyesight to the dark and realize that he had not been alone.
"I was looking all over for you," she continued, looping her arms around his neck.
"I just came outside to get some fresh air." Courtney didn't know he didn't like crowds.
"Do you want some company?"
"No," Jason shook his head. "Let's go back inside." Courtney took his hand and made to draw him inside, but he resisted her hold for just a minute, turning his eyes back to the dark secluded corner where Elizabeth sat. She had turned back to the city again and so he didn't see her struggling to keep back her tears.
Now in his sleep, he tossed and turned, as his mind was flooded with memories of her and their short time together. Being found in the bloodied snow; waking up to the cherubic smile of Sonny Corinthos' daughter; taking her for motorcycle rides; the night she showed him The Wind; the night she refused to go with him to Italy and he felt as though a piece of his heart had been ripped out; their first kiss; the night he pushed her away without a fight; the relief of finding her alive in the living room the night of Kristina's kidnapping; holding her hand and falling asleep thinking everything would be much better if she'd just open her beautiful blue eyes.
Of course he couldn't know that in addition to dreaming, his 'damaged' mind caused him to mumble in his sleep, and he couldn't see when Courtney's tears started to fall.
Still, ignorance is bliss. In his sleep he could be a damaged man who damaged everything around him and not be conscious of the destruction around him.
TBC…
A/N: You like? I made the chapter a little longer than usual. I didn't know how to put into words all that I think they should have said to each other, but I feel as though they were horribly inadequate. Please R&R and be kind
BTW… did anyone catch Thursday's show (07.17.03) when Skipper punched that whore Faith in the face? I was like "Yey, Skipper!" Was it just me or did Skipper turn green with envy at the way Jason was looking at Liz? Could it be that there might be some actual Liason in the future? One can only hope… or find Shadow Phenix's bat and beat up the writers!
