Chapter 47b

She sat there, Indian style in the grass, just staring, looking straight head at what she guessed to be cool smooth stone. She hadn't touched it yet, she couldn't. She had never been so close to the end, to the beginning. She wasn't sure why, but this spot, this stone, meant so much to her. It was where she first saw him, where her pains first became reality. This spot marked the start of the torture she endured growing up. It was where the wishing stopped, or where she thought it stopped. It was the beginning of being a Mathews, instead of a Morgan.

She never cared for one name over the other, she loved both, yet hated both just as much. Morgan, it stood for what she was, what she could be, yet it held power, comfort in knowing that there was someone out there just like her. Mathews, it was her mother, the safety of home, the loving care only a mother can give, yet it held the fear, the need to run. She knew she was both, that she hated so much, but loved it all. She hated to run, but she needed to. She loved caring, but she cared too much. She was everything they were; down to the smallest detail, yet she wasn't.

She was her own person, her own being, and she didn't want it any other way. She loved having choices, and she knew that her mother would let her choose. She knew that whatever she did, her mother would let her. She would stand strong and understand, she may not like it, but she would understand. It had been one of those rare conversations about Jason that Emma had learned her Mother would always understand.

Late took on many meanings, could be used many ways, and was usually never a word used to describe Emma. She was always on time, the girl who was always there when you needed her. Never late for a single class, or day of school, at the table for every meal, up on time every day, and home and in bed every night exactly when she was meant to.

Tonight however was different. There was no fourteen-year-old girl sleeping in her lavish Californian bedroom. The sheets to her bed were mussed, pillows thrown to the side, and her pajamas lying on the floor as if she had quickly thrown them there on her way out. The bedroom window was opened allowing the cool summers breeze, and ocean scent to flow in. It was a peaceful night, of which was no longer so peaceful.

Courtney sat in the corner, away from the windows waiting. Waiting to see how to handle the situation, waiting to see when her daughter would get back, but most importantly waiting to see that her daughter was unharmed. It had been a long time since she had sat up late at night worrying. She thought those days were done, that she would never have to fear being alone at night.

Alone meant so many things to the blonde woman. She had felt alone in so many ways. When she was growing up, after her dad left, she couldn't stand it. In that apartment, by herself as she cooked dinner and listened to the nightlife, she was scared of it. Then there were the nights she spent with AJ; she had felt so isolated around him later on in their relationship. When she was being stalked her fears ran highest, but she had Jason with her.

Jason was another story all on his own. He made her feel so loved, so comforted, so protected, and loved. She was loved, and she felt it, yet the worst feelings she had during the time when she was with him was when she was left alone. Whether it was waiting for him to come over after a threatening phone call, to sitting up, waiting and worrying for him to return to the penthouse she was afraid. Alone meant that she could loose someone, or that she had lost someone.

The creak of the window being pushed open resounded through the room as Courtney watched the blonde wet hair get blown into the young girls face as she silently hopped off her window seat and latched it shut. Spinning around Courtney was sure Emma hadn't even seen her as she began to peal of the wet oversized shirt and reach for her pajamas.

"Ahem," It was light, soft and barley audible, but it made Emma jump. The young girl turned, hair wet and in her baby blue bikini. She stood frozen as Courtney slowly stood and walked to stand in front of the young girl. A moments pause as the two-held eye contact, blue on blue, neither moving. Emma felt her mothers hand glide gently along her cheek as her wet hair was placed behind her ear. "What were you doing out there?"

"Nothing," Emma's eyes, that steal blue so familiar, held her own baby blue eyes. It was amazing how one second her eyes could be that soft baby blue, and the next that hard, unfeeling steal blue of her fathers. Yet it was the in betweens that gave the girl away, each color, each shade, a different emotion.

"That hair doesn't tell me nothing," Courtney reasonably noted.

"I went swimming," She broke eye contact, eyes darting to rest on her sandal clad feet.

"Not in our pool, and not in Cassie's. So where," Courtney didn't want this answer, she didn't want to know the danger her daughter had put herself in.

Emma didn't say a word as her had pointed out her window, through the open curtains and at the pristine white sand of the beach, and the cool blue waters of the ocean. Tempers, and worry flared as she saw where her daughter was pointing. It was never a good idea to swim alone at night in the ocean. You simply didn't do it. Not with the tides, and the recent shark attacks.

"You didn't, Emma tell me you didn't," Her voice was raised a bit and the two stood in the dark. The lack of response confirmed suspicions. "You know how dangerous the ocean is at night. You know what could happen. The tides could pull you out. You could get attacked by sharks, you could end up..."

"But I didn't."

"You could have though. This isn't a game."

"I don't think it is, but I can't sit around and do nothing while you get over your fears of loosing me."

"Emma you were kidnapped, and I almost lost you then. Now you're swimming in the ocean. You're just as reckless as your…"

"Don't call him my father."

"But he is, and your so much like him. Sometimes I'm afraid that I'll wakeup, and you'll be gone. Just like he was."

"Mom," Emma's voice softened. "I'm here now. I don't plan to go anywhere anytime soon, but I can't guarantee that I'll always be right here in this bedroom."

"I'm not asking you to stay here. I'm asking you not to run off. I'm asking that my fourteen-year-old not sneak off in the middle of the night."

"I was swimming."

"And Jason worked, but that didn't keep me from sitting up all night wondering if he'd be back. It didn't stop me from wondering if I'd get a call telling that he was dead, or in the hospital."

"This is more about your past than it is me swimming at night isn't it?" Her eyes reached her mothers once again ass the emotions played along their faces. "I've been swimming out there since I was twelve. I needed an escape. A way to relieve the stress, the fear, and the pain of what happened. I just…the water, It calms me. It's my escape."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because you would only worry."

"It's my right to worry."

"I needed to deal with it on my own."

"No, you don't."

"But I do, and I need you to understand. I need you to see that I can't keep relying on you. I grew up a long time ago; I lost my innocence a long time ago. I need you to see, that I can handle myself. That even with everything that has happened to me I can still stand."

" I don't know that I can."

"You're always going to be afraid for me, but I'll never leave you alone. No matter how far I go, I'll always be your Emma."

"I know Emma. I really do, but I still worry. I'm still afraid for you."

"And I love you for that." Emma stepped closer to her mother and wrapped her arms around the woman.

"It's late. You need to get to sleep. We can talk more in the morning. Night sweetie." Her voice was soft as she made her way for the door.

"Night Mom."

Walking down the hall Courtney felt the wave of uneasiness wash over her. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She didn't want to see so much of him in her. Keeping everything to herself, wanting to make it better for everyone all on her own. She wasn't supposed to be afraid that her daughter was keeping things from her, that she would disappear completely from her one-day and leave her only with memories of what used to exist. She didn't want her relationship with Jason to be repeated through her daughter, fun and energetic one moment, and lost and confused the next. Walking to her bed she let her tears fall, she let her fear take over, and she let emotion control herself once more.

It had been a simple conversation, a loud conversation, but simple. The words shared and unshared had brought so much light to their lives. It had been a night of confessions, and looking back now Courtney understood. She got the pain and the anger. She had done the same when she had miscarried all those years ago. She had tried to deal with it on her own, it hadn't worked, but luckily Emma had Stan, and Chris. They had both dealt with their problems, and Courtney understood.

Emma ran her own life. She did what she needed. Had Courtney not understood Jason, and how he was, had she not understood why he hated the Quartermaines so much she wouldn't understand Emma today. The control, and need to protect all those around her ran supreme in her world. Emma was everything Courtney could hope her daughter would be. Emma was a strong, independent, courageous young woman, and walking up to the scene in Kelly's Courtney could only hope she was the same.