Chapter 10

Lucky and Skye were perched gingerly on the leather couches in the waiting nook by the elevator when they saw Jason all but streak down the hall. He was breathing hard and his face was flushed, and it was a small wonder that his trembling legs could hold his body upright.

"Jason-" Skye's voice died in her throat as the brunette stood up hurriedly, anxious to question her older brother when he pounded the elevator button once, let out a muffled roar of frustration, and took off down the stairs.

Next to her, Lucky was equally confused. "What the hell was that all about?" he muttered, raking a hand through his uncombed blonde spikes.

Skye closed her eyes with a broken sigh, tears already gathering. She told herself she wouldn't cry anymore, but it didn't seem to be the most realistic goal she'd ever set for herself. There was no escape from the shroud of desperation and misery that had suddenly cloaked the Quartermaines, Cassadines, and Spencers alike. No escape. She'd come out into the hall to get some air with Lucky, and all they could think about was Elizabeth in the operating room. If she went back into the hospital room to seek refuge from that, there would be poor Emily, barely managing to breathe without the assistance of some medical apparatus.

"It can only mean one thing," Skye got out, her voice torn with a hint of tears. "And it can't be good."

"Don't say that," Lucky barked through gritted teeth. "You don't know that."

Skye turned on him, her red hair cascading over her shoulders. "Why else would Jason be running like he was being chased by demons?" she demanded, a fire blazing in her emerald eyes. "You saw him – he's never like that. It could only take something big to make him act out like that."

Lucky huffed in annoyance, shouldering past her. "Let's just wait for some actual news before we start jumping to conclusions." His voice was firm and the words were clipped, and even Skye knew not to push the young man any further.

From the two days she'd spent in the vicinity of Lucky Spencer, her respect for the young man had grown considerably. She had always pegged him as an arrogant, carefree college kid, just like any other guy of his age: thinking he knew everything about life and that his judgment was infallible.

But she had soon realized how wrong she had been. Gone were her visions of an egotistical photohound working in his mommy's company. What replaced them was the image of a capable young man trying to hold his family and friends together while trying to make something of himself. And she admired that greatly.

She knew how much he cared about both girls – anyone who looked at the boy would. Emily was the world to him – his first friend in a truly turbulent childhood, his best friend. And the sight of her lying helpless and pale on a cold hospital bed was almost unbearable for him.

But even more unbearable was the thought of another young woman on an operating table – Elizabeth Webber. Skye didn't know much about the two of them, but she had heard they had been together for longer than she'd been back in PC. Alan had said they were almost married, and from the look on Lucky's face when AJ broke the news, Skye knew better than to doubt it. She had never seen a man look as devastated, as broken, as when Lucky Spencer found at that his first love had barely managed to escape Death's clutches.

That is, until she saw Jason.

At that moment, Alan, Monica, and AJ appeared in the hallway, all of them walking solemnly toward the waiting nook. Skye's face fell at their expressions: all were drawn and tight, clearly miserable and numb.

Next to her, Lucky moved forward, her blue eyes anxiously darting from AJ to his parents.

"Well?" he asked hurriedly, unconsciously clenching his hands into tight fists. "What's the news on Elizabeth? Is she going to be okay? She's got to be okay, right?"

Monica sighed, looking down at the floor. A thick ball of tears found its way to her throat, leaving it tight and constricted. After the mentally exhausting meeting in John's office combined with her youngest son's breakdown, she herself wasn't in any shape to divulge the news to the others.

If she had hoped Alan would do it, she was disappointed. Her husband was just as desolate, and his large brown eyes found his daughter's. Skye's heart sank at the look in them: they were empty and defeated, and she'd never seen her father look like that before.

AJ stepped forward, tears crowding into his deep brown eyes as he struggled to find the right words. "They're done operating," he got out, barely managing to look Lucky in the eyes.

The young man's shoulders slumped in relief, and a soft sigh escaped him. It comforted him to know that Elizabeth wasn't still lying on a cold, stark table anymore. But AJ's eyes told him there wasn't much else to be relieved about, and Lucky braced himself for the news.

"How did the operation go?" Skye's voice broke in hesitantly, and AJ could hear the genuine concern and worry in her voice. But along with that, he could hear hope, and he thanked God that at least someone had managed to still hold on to that.

"It went as well as they could have hoped, given the circumstances," AJ replied slowly.

In front of him, Lucky crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't like the sound of that at all."

"Neither do I," AJ agreed, rubbing a hand over the stubble that had formed on his chin and neck.

"AJ, what happened?" The question was more of a statement, a plea from his sister to just get the information out in the open at last. And AJ couldn't refuse her, especially when he knew he couldn't keep it bottled up inside. It was up to all of them to deal with it together; it was their collective sorrow and loss.

"They did the best they could." AJ's voice was drawn and weary, and Skye and Lucky unconsciously held their breaths as they waited for him to speak. "John Mulrow – you remember him from around the house, Skye – was the main doctor, and he called us in to talk about the operation. She's in Intensive Care right now, and they're checking her continuously."

Alan and Monica slipped quietly away, not wanting to hear anymore. Their footsteps echoed down the hall as they made their way to their daughter's room.

"When Elizabeth was hit, her body slammed forward against the wheel, and then back. To that extent, there was damage to the frontal lobe."

Lucky's nails dug into the skin of his palm, drawing blood.

"There's almost a certainty of brain damage."

Nikolas looked up as the door clicked open, his tired chocolate eyes falling on an equally tired Monica and Alan. He tipped his head in solemn greeting, resuming his awkward position in the plastic chair when they returned it.

Monica moved toward the bed and took a seat next to her daughter's unconscious form, gently stroking the hair from Emily's drained face. Alan took up the seat next to Nikolas, sagging into it with visible exhaustion.

Nikolas waited a moment before turning to the man. Alan noticed the hesitant look clouding his dark eyes, and instantly knew what was coming.

"What's the news on Elizabeth, Dr. Quartermaine?"

From her seat on the bed, Monica's head dropped slightly and her hand fell limply onto the beige blanket. Alan's eyes raked over her, poor posture and all, and he leaned his head back against the wall. His voice when he replied was hushed and worn.

"AJ's in the hall by the elevator with Lucky and Skye. He'll fill you in."

A quiet shuffling next to him told him that Nikolas was already on his feet and making his way to the door, doing his best not to disturb the other inhabitants of the room.

Luke's piercing blue eyes found the young Cassadine from across the room and he nodded once. Sparing a single glance at a slumbering Zander sitting on the floor next to him, the elder Spencer, shifted his weight to his ankles and lifted himself up, wincing when his knees reminded him that he was no longer a young man.

Together, Luke and Nikolas made their way out of the room, closing the door softly behind them.

The hallway lights were bright and unwelcome to their eyes, which had become accustomed to the dim lighting of Emily's room.

Luke's hand fell heavily on Nikolas' shoulder as the two men walked silently toward the main desk. The waiting area was empty, and Luke scanned the halls quickly. Nikolas followed his lead, then spotted a downcast Amy at the information desk.

"Amy?"

She looked up from the papers she was shuffling, her blue eyes tired and wistful.

"Have you seen Lucky or AJ or-"

The blonde pointed down the hall, her lips pursed. "They're in the first conference room," she replied quietly, turning back to the papers in her hand.

Luke nodded. "Thanks."

The two men walked quickly to the conference room, and Luke gently squeezed his stepson's shoulder before entering.

"No worries, Little Vlad. No worries."

Nikolas nodded, his brows furrowed. "No worries."

The conference room was dimly lit. Small, modern looking leather couches lined the wall neatly, and clean end tables held up sleek green lamps. The fluorescent lights on the ceiling had been dimmed considerably, and their eerie glow shone down on the three inhabitants of the room.

Lucky had his hands braced on the wet bar, his shoulders trembling. The blonde raised his head when he heard the door open, and his haunted blue eyes met those of his father and brother.

He made an exhausted motion to move, dragging his hands off the wooden counter and trying to steady himself despite the watery feeling in his legs, and Luke swallowed nervously when he noticed the several smears of blood that marred the clean wooden surface.

"Cowboy?"

Nikolas' sigh was audible as he spied AJ and Skye a few feet from Lucky. Skye seemed even paler, and a shaking hand covered her mouth. Her stunned eyes were still trained on a dejected AJ, who was studying the floor.

"W-What's going on?"

Lucky set his mouth, his lips a tight white line. The tall blonde stalked over to them, his footsteps pounding on the carpeted floor. AJ, too, turned to face the newcomers, raking a hand through his uncombed and disheveled brown hair.

Luke stepped forward a bit as Lucky advanced, not trusting the look in his son's eyes. "Cowboy –"

"Did you hear the news, Dad?" Lucky's voice was hard, the words terse. "No, I don't suppose you have." He cocked his head to the side, his piercing eyes moving from his brother to his father. "Why don't I take the liberty of filling you in?"

Nikolas swallowed nervously at the rage that cloaked Lucky's voice. "Lucky, man –"

"Shut up," the younger man countered smoothly in a no-nonsense voice. "If you knew what happened to her," he continued, raising his voice, "then you wouldn't be asking me to calm down, would you!"

Nikolas bit his lip, darting a nervous glance at Luke. The elder Spencer stood still, his eyes not wavering from his son. Nikolas could sense the fear in his eyes, the worried anticipation in his tense posture, but the man didn't act on it.

"Then tell us, Cowboy."

Lucky turned away, sweeping a hand through his hair. "If I knew who did this to her, I'd wrap my hands around his throat and kill him myself."

Luke stepped forward, extending a hand to touch his son's shoulder, but Lucky suddenly whirled around again.

"Do you know what that bastard did to her, Dad?" Gone was the anger; in its stead was a voice broken and ragged with despair.

Nikolas stepped closer, shaking his head slowly. He knew better than to say anything, so he remained silent, watching, waiting for his little brother to go on.

But Lucky couldn't, and his mouth twisted as he tried to stifle his sobs. Failing miserably, he looked away, fresh tears building up in his eyes.

AJ stepped forward, his sympathetic brown eyes falling on Lucky's weeping form. He felt responsible for this turn of events, and had decided it was also his responsibility to take the brunt of the consequences. A proverbial penance, almost: he committed an evil deed, and now it was his duty to make himself suffer for it.

"The doctors say that there is almost a certainty of brain damage."

Nikolas gasped, and Luke's tough façade was shattered. The two gaped at him in stunned silence as a wave of sobs assaulted Lucky.

"No-"

AJ nodded, looking away. "If she wakes up, they'll be able to see how extensive it is. If there are any other disabilities with speech or movement." He trailed off, clenching his eyes shut as he heard Nikolas choke down a sob.

"God."

The young man's shoulder's trembled, and his younger brother moved closer to him. Nikolas' head was bent, a few tears already dripping from his face onto the carpet.

"This can't be happening," he got out, covering his face with his hands. "First Emily and now – this? God, how much can we take?"

Luke swallowed hard, tears blurring his own vision. It all seemed so surreal. Just yesterday, he'd met Elizabeth at the hospital – just outside by the desk – with a large stack of Sesame Street books. When he'd teased her, she told him she was donating them to the makeshift children's library in Pediatrics. Together, they had managed to bring in all the books and puzzles and board games from her car as the brunette chattered happily away about an idea for a new mural in the Children's Department should her old one start to fade or chip away.

And now – now he didn't know if she'd ever be able to make it. Or even remember the idea.

"She'll never be the same again, will she?" Lucky sobbed brokenly, wiping a hand across his nose. "She's gone."

Luke stepped toward him, wrapping an arm tightly around his son's broad shoulders. "Don't you say that, Cowboy," he ground out fiercely, successfully managing to disguise the tears in his voice. "Don't. We don't know that."

"But what are the odds that she'll ever be okay again?" Nikolas asked, his eyes already red and swollen. "W-We saw what happened to Jason. Medical student one minute, and the next-"

The young man was unable to finish, and Luke wrapped his other arm around the boy. Pulling both of them to him, he bowed his own head in silent prayer as they all sobbed.

"We'll get through this, boys," he promised them, tears coursing a slick path down his cheeks. "Whatever it takes, we'll all get through this. Angel included."

From outside the conference room, AJ watched the small group. He had slipped out a few minutes earlier, not wanting to disturb them. Skye remained seated in the couch, her empty green eyes staring at the ceiling. Shoes off and legs folded under her, the redhead seemed more listless and tired than AJ had ever seen her.

And Luke – he had certainly never seen Luke break down like that. He knew that Elizabeth was like a daughter to the old man – a sister to little LuLu and a best friend and confidante to the boys. But the sight of the three of them, still huddled together, the boys' heads on Luke's shoulders, still surprised him.

It was a dull kind of surprise. It was the kind of surprise that came from seeing something unlikely happen, the kind of unlikely that could only accompany some significant event.

He rested his forehead against the cool wood of the door, a dull thud resonated through his head upon contact.

And he'd certainly never seen Jason break down like that.

After his tirade in John's office, Jason had lit out of there as fast as his wobbly legs could carry him, not even bothering to wait for the elevator as he pounded down the steps, no doubt taking them three at a time.

And now he'd disappeared, and no one knew where.

AJ sighed heavily, turning to lean his back against the door. He couldn't take this anymore. The guilt threatened to consume him, and all for what? What was he doing it for?

To help Courtney? Certainly not.

His initial idea had been to use it to blackmail her and somehow manage – with a great deal of legal finaggling – to regain custody of his son.

But the minute he saw the license plate on the bent and twisted Acura, all that had changed. Blackmail had dropped instantly from his mind, and his only thought was of getting Elizabeth safely to the hospital.

And as devious as he knew he was, he also knew that he wasn't capable of going on with this. As important as his son was to him, the road to getting him back home was too arduous and painful.

Enough. It was time to come clean.

But how?

Instantly, he knew. Inside the conference room, neither the Spencers, Nikolas, or Skye noticed AJ slip away. The young man walked toward the elevator, calmly pressing the button and waiting. He knew where he was headed.

He just hoped he wouldn't lose his nerve before he got there.

The water lapped quietly against the docks, but the sound still invaded Jason's conscience. The seagulls screeched overhead, unmindful of how the hardened enforcer beneath them was teetering over the edge of sanity.

He sat stock still on the wooden bench, staring out at the water beyond but not really seeing it. Spoon Island was off in the distance somewhere, but he didn't really care. The only way he found out was because Elizabeth would point it out sometimes.

The meeting in John's office had all but drained him mentally, physically, and emotionally, and it was all Jason could do to just sit there.

For once, he wanted to be totally and completely alone.

No Sonny. No Carly. No Michael. And no Courtney.

No responsibilities or problems or duties. That was what he wanted. He wanted to just sit and be, as Elizabeth was so fond of saying. It had all been too much for him to absorb – first his baby sister, and now his…

His…

His what?

His friend?

No. They were never really friends.

His 'more than friend', then?

Hardly. They weren't even on speaking terms.

His ex-girlfriend?

Barely. They weren't even really together, so that couldn't be it.

His what?

What was Elizabeth to him?

She was nothing and then she was everything, this much he knew. There had never been any real words to say what she was to him, and that was never more true than now.

Not his friend, not his lover. Not a thing in between.

She was Elizabeth. And that was all she ever needed to be.

His conclusion was a true one, but it didn't satisfy him. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to just sit, with only the water and the wind for company, and think about what she was to him.

And by God, he wouldn't leave this spot or do anything until he had figured it out. She deserved that.

But the steady fall of footsteps interrupted his reverie, and Jason looked up angrily, his piercing eyes searching for the intruder.

The only person in sight was a very nervous and very apologetic AJ.

Jason sighed, looking away. AJ was the last person he wanted to see right now. He resumed staring stoically out at the water, hoping that AJ would take his posture and his silence as hints and beat it.

But his brother chose not to.

Firmly, with more resolution than Jason had seen in him for a long time, AJ stepped up right next to him. When he spoke, his voice was solid and clear.

"We have to talk."