Title: Just the Same

Author: AbayJ

Disclaimer: I own nada…if I did…let's just say, GH would be a lot more interesting!

Rating: K+ - For language.

Archiving or Spreading: Just ask and of course give me credit

Genre: Drama/Angst/Song Fic (Parts of it)/WIP/AU

Couple: Eventually Journey

Summery: What if someone wasn't dead? Would it change the lives of people who had come to accept her death or would everything just stay the same?

Warning: I did edit this, but I am horrible at it. If you like Journey fan and fan or other couples I have stated in my BIO, maybe you can Beta for me! Just E-Mail me!

Author's Note I : Thanks for all the reviews! I wasn't so sure about this chapter, I may have moved it to fast but I want to get to the 'good' stuff. So let me know what you think! And don't worry, the back story will be told in later chapters!

Author's Note II: And remember, I am a review whore! Please feed the need. It doesn't cost money after all, all ya gotta do is push that pretty purple button at the end of this page! Go for it! Ya know ya wanna!

Part Two: A Break In The Night

She opened her eyes and than closed them quickly. Her head was pounding again but this time, it was a different kind, and it was...it was as if someone had hit her in the back of the head and the pain had shot it's way down her neck. Moving her hand down the back of her head, where she was sure the pain had started, she felt the sticky wetness and she knew what it was. It was blood; she was bleeding. Forcing her eyes back open, she had to block the pain, or she would have closed them again. It was sunny. That was the first thing she noticed when the pain had moved from the front of her attention. It almost made her laugh though, with the irony. After an earthquake, the sun shined, as if nothing had happened. All was peaceful and well. Shaking her head, than grimace at the stupidity of it, she gained enough energy and got her to her feet, her legs felt like clay but something was urging her on, as if she had this sense of urgency. When she got her boundaries, she knew why. The place, where she had been locked it was now in ruins. She had been on a high floor but now her room was standing on rocks from the other floors. The building had collapsed. She was free.

Looking around, she saw the whole place had collapsed. Other homes had also. The Earthquake had torn the city she had been locked into to ruins. Watching others run around, like chickens with their cuts head off, their voices ragged from screams and tears stained their cheeks, looking for love ones. No one was looking for her. Taking her first step, she felt as if she may pass out again but she didn't. She kept going. Walking off the once building and onto land for the first time in 6 years. It felt wonderful. In the back of her mind, a nagging voice told her to look for others but the other part, the smart part told her to get the hell out of dodge. Find a phone and call someone. Call anyone.

Going with that mindset, she began to walk away from the building. Looking for any clue where she was. There were signs everywhere, all in a different language though. She was in another country. Which one, she hadn't yet decided. Wishing she had paid more attention in Geography class, she kept walking. Then running. She needed to get home. She was alive and she was free. She had to get to John. The picture, she must have tucked into her shirt, was beginning to itch as she sweated. Stopping, ignoring her dry mouth, she reached into her shirt and dug out the picture. Her sweet baby was there, her sweet baby was in Port Charles and she had to let him know she as alive. She wasn't dead like the papers had said.

Catching her breath for a moment, she began to walk again. Coming upon a deserted area. The sky was beginning to get dark and she needed to find something. A car or a house something. Walking further into the deserted, she saw a house sitting there. It was crumbled from the earthquake. A well-dressed man was in the front, in the lawn, bleeding from the head, or had been. Walking towards him, she bent down and checked his pulse.

He was dead. Looking up, she whispered a silent prayer for him and herself, than began to dig around his pocket, finding what she had been looking for, a cell phone. Fisting her hand around it, she stood and began to walk away from the man. "I'm sorry..." She whispered to no one and began to walk to where the house once stood. Two rooms pushed their way through the crumbles of the brick and wood, a kitchen and bathroom. Running towards them, she went into the bathroom, or where the walls had once stood. Pushing things out of the way, she turned on the water, or tired. When she heard the big splash, she smiled.

The water pipes hadn't broken, good. She stripped herself. No one was around and even someone had been she would have done the same, she needed to wash the grime and blood from her body, and she had to look like a person. Placing her clothes on the closed toilet sheet, she wished for a shower curtain but that had been torn away. Quickly taking a shower, she scrubbed her body with water until was red. Running a hand through her hair, she felt the grime move through her hair and she sighed. Nothing would get that out, then she stepped out of the shower and placed on her dirty clothes, sans underwear, which she left in a pile, back on. She grimaced at the feel of them. She felt dirty all over again but she had nothing else. Standing there for a moment, she moved to where the kitchen walls had once stood, it only took a few steps, though she was sure, it once took a lot more. She moved to the icebox, which no longer worked but did have supplies, like warm water. She opened the bottle and brought it to her lips, taking a large gulp and it tasted like heaven to her cottony mouth. She grabbed the other few bottles and placed them in her arms, the cell phone was tight in her pocket.

Making her way from the crumbles, she was surprised when she found another body. This was of a woman. Not far from her, what she thought to be, her husband. Shaking her head, she almost cursed herself but she reached down and grabbed the woman's large purse. Hating herself but knowing these two poor souls would have no more use for physical possessions and John needed her and that was what mattered, not morals. Looking around, as if someone was watching her and she opened the purse and dumped all it's contents out to the ground, placed the bottles of water into it and reached down for the small woman's wallet that had fell out. Reading the ID card, she looked back over at the woman, "Thank you Marsha..." Then looked back at the card. She was in Greece, she couldn't read much of the foreign language but that was easy enough. She was in Greece.

Taking the few bits of Greek money from the wallet and shoving them into the purse, she looked at the other bits and pieces from the purse. Car keys, lotion, and bits and pieces of make-up were what were left. Grabbing the car keys, she scanned the place for a car. She spotted it after a few moments, beneath a few pieces of fallen debris. Running to it, she pushed it off and smiled. Nothing was broken. She was getting luckier and luckier. Getting in, she pushed the keys in and turned it on.

"Thank you!"

She whisper and began to drive from the crumbled property with three last words to the fallen people. "God bless you..." She got her balance in the backwards car and only hit a few signs, nothing to major, and after about an hour, she knew she had to stop for gas. The gas tank pointer was veering towards the red line. Biting her lip, she just hopped she had enough to get to one. She drove for 10 minutes on the edge of her seat and finally, a small town came into view, a gas station was a welcome sign for the town in a way and she pulled in.

A older man came out and began to fill her up before she could get out and she deicide with the time she had, it was a good time to see if the cell phone worked. With shaking hands, she dialed a familiar number and waited as it rang.

"No..." he screamed as he sat up in bed. The dreams were back and worse than ever. They made him shake; it was of night that wouldn't leave his mind and one that had never existed. It was a dream about something that had never happened. It was a dream about her getting shot and dieing in his arms. Maybe it was because he hadn't been there when she died. Maybe in his mind, this was his way of being there and his mind punishing him for not. Running a hand down his sweat soaked face, looked back at the woman in his bed. He wasn't sure of her name, she was one of the women he had picked up in bar, after too much to drink. The blanket was up to her neck and the red made the paleness of his skin shocking. His fingerprints were on her arm and he knew they were also on her hips.

It was a sign of a man he had become. He was broken and no longer the same but he also wasn't a complete stranger. He knew this man. It was the man he had first met when he woke up. One filled with rage and anger at the injustices in the world. Few new him like this and most of them had blocked it from their memory. Shaking his head, he stood up and began to make his way to the bathroom, sliding on the boxers that had been hastily thrown during the mad dash for the bed and the once release that didn't hurt. Starting to walk, he had to stop himself to run to the bathroom, the need to wash the tears and sweat and tears from the dream, along with the remnants of the fucking he had received.

A ringing stopped him in mid-step, though. It was his cell phone. Looking at the clock, he knew it was only a few hours from dawn, to late for most people he knew to call him, unless it was an emergency. Going for his jeans, he pulled the slim cell phone and flipped it open. His hand shook when he heard a voice whisper his name in a husky and tired tone.

"Jason...I need you...you have to help me..."

R/R!