Chapter 12

AJ rubbed his hand over his face, trying to snap himself out of a sleep-induced coma. It was late, and all the inhabitants of the room were having a hard time staying awake. Sonny, Carly, and Courtney had left earlier, but everyone else was still around.

Emily had finally fallen asleep, and dried tears still stained her pale cheeks. Edward and Lila sat vigilantly by her side, and would not be persuaded to go back to the estate to get some much-needed rest.

The boys were leaning against the wall with their hands on their knees. Zander was snoring. Alan and Monica were perched at the foot of Emily's bed, their hands clasped together, and Skye had pulled a chair up to her stepmother's side. Reginald still paced by the back wall, and Luke watched him. Jason was seated in a plastic chair right by the door, his jacket still on and his hands folded together, a stoic and placid mask having descended over his face.

AJ gingerly stood up from his uncomfortable chair and stretched his arms behind his back. His movement, however subdued, still attracted the attention of those who had not yet let sleep mercifully claim them.

"I'm going on a coffee run," he whispered. "Does anyone want anything?"

"What place is still open?" Alan wanted to know. "It's late – I'm not even sure if the hospital cafeteria's open."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure as hell not going there," AJ replied, rolling his eyes and earning a smirk from Luke. "I can run back to the house and brew up a couple thermoses of coffee, maybe pick up some sandwiches or fruit. What does everyone want?"

"Any kind of sandwich is good," Nikolas spoke up from the far side of the room on behalf of the two slumbering young men next to him. "Coffee, juice, water, whatever."

"We'll have the same," Alan agreed, gesturing to his wife and daughters. "See if there's any peanut butter – Emily can have it when she wakes up."

"Coffee would be good," Luke added. "I'm not really that hungry." He tipped his chin at Reginald, who was still pacing. "What about you, Pookie?"

The butler bristled. "I told you to stop calling me that." He scowled when Luke shrugged and then turned to AJ. "I can come back to the house and help, Junior."

"It's okay, Reggie," AJ shook his head. "No problem. What do you want?"

"Sandwich and just about anything to drink," the butler replied. "You sure you don't need my help?"

AJ nodded. "Positive. Grandfather, I'll try to have Cook fix up some fruit salad for Grandmother." His gaze turned toward Jason, who sat like a sentinel at the door. "Jason?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure? It's no big-"

"Nothing."

"Jason, you really should eat something," Monica tried to persuade her son. "How about just a-"

"I'm not hungry."

AJ licked his lips, knowing better than to push the enforcer when he was in this mood. "All right. Be back in a bit."

He slipped out of the room and shut the door softly behind himself. The click of the door echoed through the quiet room like a gunshot, and no one made any attempt to break the silence.

An hour passed and AJ loaded two picnic baskets into the trunk of his car. Cook had been extremely helpful and had even helped him make all the sandwiches. She'd packed two thermoses of her own special stash of Columbian blend coffee – AJ suspected that she had purchased it from Sonny and Jason's faux coffee outfit – and had even included fresh croissants and mini eclairs.

The baskets safely secured in the back, AJ climbed in and started the car, maneuvering it out of the large garage and down to the gates. He waved at the watchman, who took the opportunity to inquire about Emily's health. AJ told him she was doing well and all tests were encouraging, and thanked him for asking before he turned onto the road.

Nighttime driving was in a league of its own. AJ loved how the roads were almost completely empty, how the streetlights twinkled against an inky sky and how the wind felt as it whipped in through the moonroof and all four open windows.

He had turned onto one of the typically busier roads when his cell phone rang. AJ sighed, realizing that he had not hooked it up to his car-phone set, and reached into his pocket. He didn't usually talk on the phone while driving – he thought it was a dangerous habit – but he figured it was okay this one time since the roads were so bare.

"Hello?"

The line remained silent for a moment before a silky voice invaded his ears. "Mr. Quartermaine."

"Yes," he answered, passing a black Jeep full of rowdy teenagers. "Who is this?"

The voice chuckled. "Mr. Quartermaine, I have some business to discuss with you. You might know me as Lorenzo Alcazar."

Jason squirmed in his seat. Sitting for hours in a small plastic chair was not doing any favors for his back.

About an hour had passed since AJ left, and almost everyone had dropped off to sleep. Luke had left about forty minutes earlier, wanting to check up with Claude at the bar, but he assured his son that he would be back as soon as possible.

Edward and Lila had refused his offer for a ride back to the mansion, and Jason watched his grandmother as she slept peacefully in her padded wheelchair. Edward, however, did not look half as comfortable as he snored in a plastic chair identical to the one Jason occupied.

Alan and Monica had fallen asleep leaning against each other, and Skye was resting her head on the mattress. Judging by her slow, peaceful breathing, she was also asleep. Of the three boys leaning against the wall, Lucky was the only one that was awake. Zander had already fallen asleep, and Nikolas soon joined him, despite trying his best to fight off his fatigue. Reginald, having adamantly refused a ride back to the house, had fallen asleep next to the young prince. Lucky, however, was rested from his quick nap earlier in the night and now sat quietly, twiddling his thumbs.

Presently, the blonde sighed and managed to pull himself to his feet, taking great care not to disturb his slumbering companions. He shook the feeling back into his legs and slowly ambled for the door.

Jason's eyes met his as he passed. "Bathroom break," Lucky whispered in response to the questioning look he received.

The older man thought for a moment and then got to his feet as well, and both of them left the small room.

The hallways were empty, and the bright fluorescent lights cast an eerie glow on the waxed tiles. Jason and Lucky walked in silence, neither man even looking at the other.

The walk to the bathroom was a long one since the maintenance staff shut down the one located on their floor. They both stepped into the stairwell, Jason first, and took the stairs down to the lower level.

Lucky frowned when Jason stumbled on the last two steps, jerking forward and almost losing his balance for a brief moment before he was able to steady himself.

"You okay, Morgan?"

"Yeah."

An uneasy silence descended once again, and neither man said another word as they entered the restroom. They made quick work of relieving themselves and then moved toward the two sinks against the far wall.

Jason was already lathering up his hands while Lucky studied himself in the mirror.

"Damn, I look like Hell," he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes with his palms. The dark circles there didn't disappear, and Lucky stretched the kinks out of his back. He lifted a hand to scratch his nape, and accidentally caused the cinch of the silver chain he wore around his neck to fall open.

The necklace and the silver pendant on it fell to the ground with a clink and Lucky's accompanying gasp. Jason glanced down and stooped to pick up the metallic object, turning it over in his palm as he stood, trying to figure out what it was.

Lucky took it from his outstretched hand with a nod of thanks, and tenderly stroked the circular pendant. "Subway token."

"What?"

"It's a subway token," he clarified for the mobster's benefit. "I gave it to Elizabeth a couple years ago. She gave it back to me when we broke up." He shrugged, smiling softly, and refastened the chain around his neck. "She said it was for luck, I think. I always wear it when I need some."

He put an end to his rambling and glanced at Jason's reflection in the mirror in front of them, and was very surprised to see a light in the enforcer's eyes and an amused smirk touching his lips.

"Last I heard, quarters were good luck."

Lucky's brows furrowed as he tried to understand what the mobster meant. As much as he always hated to sound stupid around Jason, he had to ask. "Uh, yeah, okay, I can't really make heads or tails of that. What are you talking about?"

Jason was smiling now as he shook the water from his fingers and reached for a paper towel. "Quarters. They're the best kind of luck anyone could hope for."

"How do you figure?"

"Because Elizabeth said so."

The statement surprised Lucky even more than Jason's accompanying smile. "Huh?"

"It was about a week before her birthday." Jason didn't know why he was saying this to Lucky of all people. The two of them never got along and walked a fine line between uneasy tolerance and utter contempt. Still, the words just tumbled out of his mouth. "She had a big art project due and she wanted me to help her decide what to paint."

He turned to face Lucky then, and the boy noticed that although the man before him looked more haggard and drawn than he had ever seen him before, there was an energetic light in his cerulean eyes.

"It was about you, actually. She wanted me to help her decide if she should paint you on the docks or playing your guitar."

"Really?" Lucky couldn't help but smile as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned one denim-clad hip against the sink.

Jason nodded. "Yeah. She was standing on the docks and I came up, and she told me it must be a sign."

"She was always big with those," Lucky chuckled. "Everything was a sign – a song on the radio, a TV show, the number of marshmallows that happened to be in her hot chocolate…"

"I asked what she meant, and she said that I had to help her decide what to paint."

Elizabeth's smile lit up the dark docks. "Hey, this is perfect!"

Confused, Jason drew closer and placed his hands on his hips as he regarded her. "What is?"

"Running into you – maybe it's a sign."

Again, she may as well have been speaking gibberish. "Of what?"

But Elizabeth wasn't paying attention. "Or maybe it's a sign that you're going to give me a sign," she babbled on, excitedly tucking a few lacy tendrils of chocolate hair behind her ear. "Let me ask you – if there was only one painting of Lucky in the world, would it be a painting of him here or of him playing his guitar?"

Lucky's grin was wide. "She really asked you that?"

Jason nodded.

The younger blonde, although having a hard time actually believing this, was nevertheless enjoying the story tremendously. "So what did you say?"

"Why can there only be one in the world?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Sometimes Jason could be too literal for his own good. "Because I only have one midterm art project, and I talked my professor into letting it be a portrait," she explained. "You know, painting Lucky was the reason I got into the Art Academy in New York."

Jason nodded hesitantly. "Oh, well – I don't know." The look on Elizabeth's face had him searching for an answer anyway. "You know, the docks are bigger. But guitars actually look harder to draw."

Despite his best efforts, she didn't seem satisfied by the response. "Well, that's no help. I need a decision."

"But why from you?" Lucky asked.

"That's what I wanted to know," Jason informed him seriously.

"Because you're here, you knew Lucky, and I'm tired of thinking about it."

The younger blonde rolled his eyes. "Classic Elizabeth."

"All right," Jason agreed. "Fine." He pulled a quarter from his jeans and held it up for her to see. "Heads for the docks, tails for the guitar, ok?"

Lucky was laughing. "You know, that's how we solved a lot of our arguments back in the day."

Jason shrugged. "Whatever works."

"OK." Elizabeth didn't sound too sure, as if she wasn't prepared to consider relinquishing such an important decision to an impartial coin. "Do it."

Jason flipped the coin high in the air and was preparing to catch it when Elizabeth's fist closed around it in midair.

"OK. Guitar."

"You know, that doesn't surprise me at all," Lucky smirked.

"I was new, so it did surprise me a bit," Jason admitted.

"I'm glad I could be so helpful."

Elizabeth smiled at the confused look on her friend's face and batted her eyelashes sweetly. "You were. Thank you."

Jason was smirking at her then, and her playfulness increased.

"OK, you can think it's funny if you want, but you did help," she insisted. "I didn't know what I wanted until there was a chance that I might have to do something else. So thank you."

"Wait, wait," Jason sputtered as she backed away from him, still grinning. "What about my quarter?"

Elizabeth's grin grew wider. "This?" she teased, waving the quarter in front of his face. "This isn't a quarter. It's a good luck charm – and I'm keeping it."

"So to this day, you're out a quarter thanks to her," Lucky laughed.

Jason shrugged. "It's okay. She's worth more than a quarter to me."

The statement had a sobering effect on both men as soon as it left Jason's mouth. The mobster stared at himself in the mirror as Lucky had done earlier, and reached for the faucet. Lucky studied him he washed his face with cold water, trying to rub the fatigue from his eyes.

"Look, Jason…" His voice was hesitant and Jason glanced up at him as he turned off the water and reached for another paper towel. "You probably know more about all this than I do, so…honestly, what do you think her chances are?"

Jason stilled at the question. His hands gripped the edge of the sink and he stared at the silver faucet, choosing to remain eerily silent. Lucky fidgeted uncomfortably, still awaiting a response, and was about to give up hope as the minutes dragged on until Jason finally spoke.

His voice was a whisper and Lucky had to strain to hear him. "She can't wake up brain damaged."

Lucky's eyes widened. "Is that…seriously likely?"

Jason turned his head slowly to meet the younger man's gaze. "The doctors say that there was brain damage upon impact, but they're not sure to what extent."

"So, it could just be amnesia, right?"

Jason swallowed. "I don't know – maybe that's being too optimistic. Shitpot Mulrow said that the worse-case scenario would be her waking up with absolutely no memory of her life, and even more extensive damage on top of that."

"Like…like what happened to you?"

Jason didn't answer, and Lucky wasn't even sure the mobster had heard him. He just remained silent, his head bent down and his eyes clenched shut.

"She can't wake up like me. She can't." His voice was raw and Lucky didn't know what to say. "She can't go through all that – Damn it, she doesn't deserve it!"

The younger man remained silent and as the minutes ticked by, Jason slowly regained composure. He stood up straight and tossed away the tightly wadded paper towel he had been holding in his clenched fist.

Lucky gulped when he saw the look on his face – the cold, stern mask was back. Without a word, he followed the enforcer as he pushed the bathroom door open and led the way to the stairwell.

The walk back to Emily's room was stonily silent. Jason didn't look anywhere but straight ahead, and Lucky shuffled a pace behind him, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

Jason pushed the wooden door open and stepped into the room with Lucky right behind him, immediately noticed that the number of people in the hospital room had significantly decreased.

Emily's eyes leapt to him as soon as he entered, and Jason didn't like the anxiety he saw written on her face. Only Zander, Skye, Reginald, and his grandparents remained in the room.

"Where are Alan and Monica?" he asked immediately, stepping further into the room to allow Lucky in.

"They – they went out," Emily tried to explain, and Jason frowned when he saw Zander swallow her trembling hands in his own. "E-Elizabeth."

"What about Elizabeth?" Lucky demanded immediately. "Oh, God, what happened?"

Emily bit her lip and her grandmother took the opportunity to step in.

"They were paged a few minutes ago," she informed the boys in the calmest voice she could manage. Edward held her hand in his own, and Jason could see that his grandmother's fingers were trembling as well, and not from age. "It seems as if Elizabeth is showing signs of waking up."