In the first skirmish of the love battle, I got wounded in the feet.
Now I can neither run away nor remain standing up.
His heart slammed painfully against his ribs as those roses came crashing to the cold pavement. But Jason never removed his eyes from hers. She was staring at him with a myriad of emotions swimming in the depths of her beautiful sapphire orbs, illuminated by the last dance of the flickering fire. Her fingers were still poised to hold the flowers that lay in a heap at her feet, and her full lips were parted as they stared at each other across the pavement.
The ground was wet under Jason's hand and he was shivering. But he couldn't accept the help of the officer at his side that stood ready to help him to his feet. He couldn't move. Not with the way Elizabeth was looking at him.
Her heart had found new lodging in her throat and was thundering painfully, so loud that she was certain everyone at the scene must have heard it. Smoke billowed around her, the last plea of an angry blaze that saw imminent extinction. Slowly, hesitantly, she tried to wobble up a step.
Jason's heart thundered as he watched her small body sway faintly. He was barely aware of it, but the look in his startlingly blue eyes begged her outright to come to him, to fall to the ground and throw her arms around his neck and let him hold her. That was all Jason wanted, that was all he hoped for as his and Elizabeth's eyes remained locked together while the blaze fizzled out under the steady pressure of the firefighters' hoses.
Elizabeth's body leaned forward, as if magnetically drawn to Jason's crouching form, and just as the thick soles of her black boots were about to press firmly down on the pile of white roses that lay forgotten at her feet, a strong set of arms reached out and held her in place.
Jason looked as if someone had struck him when Lucky Spencer appeared at Elizabeth's side like a phantom, holding her back firmly. She was about to come to him – he was sure of it. Hadn't she just leaned forward? Hadn't she tried to take a step?
He blinked, trying to force himself to meet her gaze but unsure what he would find there. Maybe he was mistaken – maybe the smoke was playing tricks on his raw eyes and she hadn't really moved at all. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Maybe.
Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat when Lucky's strong hand grabbed her elbow. Soon, his other arm was snaking around her waist and anchoring her to him. Her hitched breath made her choke as he suddenly imposed on her freedom, but she couldn't force any sound out of her mouth. She just gaped back at Jason, lips parted on a silent gasp, as Lucky pulled her back.
The pain she saw in his eyes barely registered in her shock; had she been thinking clearly, she would have seen that all the energy seemed to depart from Jason's strong body, leaving him weak and broken on the wet and freezing pavement.
Lucky stooped, his hold around her waist forcing her to accommodate his movement and Elizabeth numbly crouched on the ground next to him as he picked up the roses she had dropped and hastily pushed them into her arms. And then he was standing up quickly, using his grip on her waist to tug her up as well.
Jason couldn't breathe as he watched Lucky pull Elizabeth back and lead her away until they disappeared behind a wall of officers and firefighters. It felt like an iron fist had closed around his heart, squeezing the life out of it and leaving him cold and unfeeling.
He gritted his teeth as he let his head fall forward. The cries of the swarming officers and the soft sound of Carly weeping in Sonny's arms faded away into the background; all Jason could feel was the roaring fire in his own badly abused limbs. Elizabeth's longing gaze had made the pain almost fade but now that she was gone, the physical pain had become too much to bear. His chest trembled as he tried to force strength into his weakened limbs, but Jason soon abandoned it as a futile quest.
She was gone.
And remarkably enough, that hurt more than his bruised and broken body.
Elizabeth's mind had yet to kick in as Lucky steered them both through a maze of policemen, paramedics, and curious spectators. Her limbs were numb, moving as if of their own volition as her boyfriend led her farther and farther away from the man still crouched on the pavement, the man that she could no longer see. And with each step, something in Elizabeth began to scream, louder and louder, until finally the numb haze around her mind cleared and she began to show the first signs of struggle.
Lucky mistook those signs as a weakness, the fragility of her tired limbs, and tightened his hold on her as he continued to shoulder his way through the crowd. As they neared the outskirts of the curious cluster of onlookers, Elizabeth was grinding her heels into the pavement in an attempt to get him to stop.
They shouldered their way through the last of the crowd and Lucky finally came to a stunned stop. There, two paces in front of him stood his cousin. She was still dressed in her vivid turquoise coat now blackened by the smoke, and her hair fluttered in the freezing wind. She remained motionless, staring at the scene before her: there, sitting on the fender of an ambulance was Sonny.
Elizabeth's eyes softened as they fell on the older man. He looked like hell. His black curls, always neatly gelled back, were wild and free and looking singed in certain spots. A paramedic had wrapped a blanket around his shoulders but still the mobster was shivering. He had a nasty gash on his leg where the beams had struck him, and the pant leg of his custom-made Italian suit was rolled up around his knee as the paramedic cleaned up the blood.
Slowly, Elizabeth and Lucky edged forward. Carly felt them approach but couldn't for the life of her tear her eyes away from her husband, as if fearing that if she did he'd vanish once more into the thick dark smoke that coated the scene still. Standing next to her, Elizabeth could see the older woman's shoulders trembling with dry, silent sobs of relief. No tears spilled forth from Carly's brown eyes; instead, she wore a small, watery smile as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and watched the EMTs clean her husband up. They were telling him that they'd have to take him to the hospital to get checked up completely – he'd be likely to need stitches in his leg and he probably had a concussion, neither of which they could treat there as quickly and adequately as the hospital could.
Sonny's obsidian eyes flew to Carly's as he nodded to the paramedics without removing them from his wife. She smiled softly back, the warmth in her eyes telling him that she'd take him to the hospital, all right, and she wouldn't leave his side until they discharged him. She'd have to call Michael soon, she was afraid; hopefully, the little boy was already asleep and hadn't seen the live broadcasts from any of the television news agencies that had swarmed the scene. With any luck, she'd be able to talk to Teddy's mom and ask her to keep her son with her for a little longer, just until Sonny was patched up and back at home. She didn't want to scare her son with any more details than she absolutely had to.
A young paramedic with a buzz cut was speaking seriously to Sonny, and Carly took a quick moment to glance at Elizabeth out of the corner of her eyes. No words were exchanged, but she saw Elizabeth return the glance. Something had transpired between her and the Goody-Goody-Muffin-Face tonight, but Carly didn't know what it was. There had been a grudging respect between them as they shelved their dislike in the face of possible tragedy. A sour taste invaded her mouth as the blonde reflected that Elizabeth had been just as worried about Jason as she herself had been about Sonny.
The sour taste vanished the instant Sonny's eyes caught hers and he grinned wearily, flashing those damned dimples at her. Carly melted immediately – he could get her to walk across hot coals with just one sexy grin. She sighed softly, her eyes lingering lovingly on his tired and torn body, then shuffled awkwardly as she sneaked another glance at Elizabeth.
The brunette happened to catch it and looked solemnly back, confused when the corners of Carly's mouth curved. "I guess I won't be having any more pizza ever."
The soft words brought an instant smile to the brunette's chapped lips. "Isn't it worth it, though?"
"One thousand times over."
Both women watched the Cuban mobster as he rearranged the blanket around himself, wincing when one of the young paramedics spread an ointment around one of his worse burns. It was so miraculously that he was actually alive and mobile – a true miracle.
And Carly knew that. Slowly, she turned her face ever so slightly in order to see Elizabeth's soft profile. "We were close tonight."
The brunette nodded, knowing who Carly meant by 'we'; both Sonny and Jason had come very close to a fiery end.
"And I'd have given up anything to have him be all right," Carly continued softly. "And he is." Elizabeth smiled tremulously, still watching Sonny. The blonde at her side bit the inside of her cheek as she thought, making sure to keep her voice so low that Lucky had to strain to pick up her words. "I've been prepared for these moments since I married him. I knew that at any minute, something or someone could take Sonny away from me."
A peculiar warmth washed over Elizabeth, yet it made her shiver. There was something about the way Carly was speaking, the message behind her soft words, that gave the brunette an almost out-of-body feeling. The fire had been extinguished and Hell had frozen over – Carly Corinthos was actually being civil to her. And Elizabeth didn't plan on ruining the moment; besides, she could sense that the older woman had something important to get off her chest before they could go back to their sparring ways.
"But I also knew that I had to make the most of every moment I had until that someone or something took him," the blonde whispered. "And that's what you do – you can't stop being afraid, you can't stop being cautious. But you've gotta live through the good times because they make it all worth it. You can't live in fear of that last moment; you have to grab what you can when you can and hold on like hell."
Elizabeth stiffened, not able to believe that she had heard right, and the blonde slowly turned completely to face her.
"Grab what you can and hold on like hell."
And with that, the moment of mutual respect vanished and Carly turned on her heel and walked straight into Sonny's waiting arms. They embraced on the fender of the ambulance as Elizabeth and Lucky watched, holding each other tightly until the paramedics ushered them into the ambulance for the drive to General Hospital.
Lucky snorted as soon as Carly's turquoise coat vanished behind the white doors of the ambulance and tightened his grip on Elizabeth's waist, fully intending to drag her away from the scene and back to her studio where they could spend the rest of their special day in peace. After all, that was quite enough excitement for one night.
But Elizabeth had other ideas. The instant he tried to steer them both away, she turned and placed a hand firmly on his chest. Lucky's pale topaz eyes flew down to hers, startled and confused, but Elizabeth's midnight blues glittered with determination and purpose.
"Lucky." Her voice was calm with just a touch of frost. "We have to talk."
Taggert's dark brown eyes swept wearily over the scene before him. The fire had been completely extinguished a while ago and the warehouse lay in shambles. The special division had been called in to comb the wreckage for remains, and so far they had recovered four casualties – all of whom seemed to be either bodyguards or nameless underlings. There would be more, he was certain – for some of the deceased victims, he was sure that they wouldn't even find bodies, just ashes.
And Jason Morgan and Sonny Corinthos had escaped with just a few scratches.
His head thundered painfully and Taggert numbly rubbed the back of his neck with one strong hand. Sonny had already been taken to General Hospital to be checked up and Carly had gone with him. Mac had instructed him not to try to get statements out of anyone tonight; the fire had been a terrible event and none of the survivors were up for his unique brand of interrogation. Begrudgingly, Taggert had agreed; he himself was too tired to conduct proper statement sessions himself. There was much other work to be done tonight, anyway – it would be a while before he got to go home to the Brownstone.
His tired eyes found the Commissioner among the thinning crowd. He was conversing with Garcia and the head of the special team responsible for scouring the wreckage. Taggert turned his face away and instantly caught the casual glance of the fire chief. Tipping his head at his old friend and colleague, the detective slowly shuffled further away from the ruined warehouse.
A couple of Corinthos' bodyguards stood in a loose huddle, not talking, not smoking, not moving, not doing much of anything. Taggert was too tired to walk up to them so he let it go. His hands found the warm depths of his pockets as his eyes slowly traveled along before him, coming to a rest on two young people he knew very well.
The lieutenant frowned at the scene: Lucky Spencer stood towering in front of a ramrod-stiff Elizabeth, yelling and gesturing furiously. But the young woman stood her ground wordlessly, not even flinching as the young man continued his tirade. Taggert was too far away to hear the exact words being exchanged, but he could see clearly as Lucky claimed a step forward aggressively, snarling something bitterly at Elizabeth. Both men's eyes widened in surprise when Elizabeth calmly took a step back and deliberately dropped the armful of roses she still held, letting them crash to the floor for a second time and staring defiantly back up at her boyfriend.
Lucky looked as if he had the wind knocked out of him and without another word the young man turned hard on his heel and stormed away. Elizabeth hooked her thumbs into the pocket of her black coat, casually glancing away and suddenly found herself staring at Lieutenant Taggert.
She sucked in a quick breath of air when she saw him, certainly not expecting to have had an audience. The detective pursed his lips and directed a look of pure concern at her before nodding his head once and shuffling away. He had seen her drop the roses the first time, and he had seen the look on her face earlier. It was the same one that Morgan had on his face. Taggert knew all too well what that look meant, and he knew all too well what the argument between Elizabeth and Lucky had been about. After all, he hadn't been born yesterday and he had certainly seen this one coming. He just hoped for the young brunette's sake that she knew what she was doing. And that she stayed safe.
Elizabeth ran a trembling hand through her silky chestnut locks, forcing herself to take deep breaths. The recent conversation had not been an easy one and she was admittedly happy that Lucky had stormed off. Tonight had been the straw that broke the camel's back – after his deprecating and insensitive remarks in the face of possible tragedy, she knew she couldn't look at him the same way again. Somewhere along the way, he had lost some of the compassion that made him so uniquely Lucky and if she were honest with herself, she knew that she didn't want anything to do with this cold, unfeeling Lucky.
Her sapphire eyes, weary but hopeful, scanned the scene of the fire quickly as Elizabeth held her breath. Right now, she only wanted to see one man. Her eyes darted from the ruined warehouse to the ambulances still stationed nearby to the thinning crowd of people. He wasn't anywhere to be found. Slowly, she ambled forward, searching for him in the dark corners and shaded areas, hoping to see his alarmingly blue eyes lurking in the dark. No luck.
Jason Morgan had already disappeared.
A river keeps rising when its bed is not available.
When my nature becomes damned, it just keeps moving.
