If I hadn't mentioned it before the layout to Elizabeth's house is different to that on the show.
Thank you all again for sticking with this story!

8

Friday, October 9, 2020
General Hospital 10th Floor

The ding of elevators, the trill of phones, and the echo of voices over the intercom assault Elizabeth as she exits the exam room with a pleased grin. With the hospital layout ingrained in her mind, she confidentiality pulls out her phone and begins to type a message.

I just came from my follow up appointment and my doctor says I'm healing with flying colors! I've been taking my meds on time and doing my deep breathing exercises too... You know you should follow my lead and actually go to the hospital when you need help.

She snorts after hitting send, knowing it's just wishful thinking. Jason hates hospitals with a passion. She tucks her phone into her pocket, not really expecting a response. She's been texting him at least once a day since their midnight meeting in her backyard with a snippet of her day, a picture of Jake, Aiden, or Cam, or just her telling him to be safe - not necessarily looking for a response. She just wants him to know he's in her thoughts. But sometimes he does respond hours later with something short, but meaningful.

So she jumps, startling a nurse passing by her, when she feels vibrations from her pocket. Offering an apologetic smile, she slows her pace and retrieves her phone.

I prefer to be seen by the world's best nurse. Besides, you're all I need.

He has her heart hammering in seconds, a warm blush coating her cheeks. Her instant response is: You're all I need too. But another message comes through before she can tap send.

I'm really glad you're getting better.

Her fingers hover over the keyboard before she erases her message and sends a just as meaningful Thank you, then promptly collides with a person.

With nibble fingers honed from years of raising kids, she snatches her falling phone from the air while stammering apologies. "Oh, I'm-I am so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was..." she trails off as her focus finally settles on the person she crashed into and her pleasant mood almost sours. "Going," she finishes evenly.

Sam gives her a blank stare, her hands rising in a sign for peace. "Hey, it's no problem at all. I was a little preoccupied too." Her hands drop and she looks around, seeming to fish for something to say. "Um, how are you? You were shot after all."

Elizabeth opens her mouth when a vibration pulses in her hand. She mumbles a quick, "Sorry, this is important," and swiftly reads his message.

Have a good day, okay?

Biting her lip does nothing to contain her smile as she types: I will. Please be safe.

When she looks up, she sees Sam doing her best to remain cordial, but the creases framing her lips give her failing efforts away. "What was that, if you don't mind me asking? You look like you just won ten million bucks."

Elizabeth no longer tries to hide her smile as she stuffs her phone in her pocket and curls her hair behind her ear. "No, it's something far more valuable than that. And to your earlier question, I'm well on my way to a full recovery. I kind of have to get going now, so if you'll excuse me..."

She walks around Sam only to feel her elbow caught in a hold. "Wait a minute. I think we should talk about what happened back in Canada," Sam protests with all pretenses of friendliness dropped.

Elizabeth sighs, annoyed that she's not allowed to bask in the warm mood Jason gave her and unwillingly turns to face the irritated stare directed towards her. She raises an eyebrow, waiting.

Sam rolls her eyes. "Look, you probably heard what I said about you—"

"You mean when you implied I was dead-weight to Jason," she fills in flatly.

Sam waits a beat, then raises her brows as if shocked her message remains unclear. "I mean, come on. You got mortally wounded. You must know that you hinder him more than anything."

Elizabeth crosses her arms, piqued by her belittling tone and gives her I thin look. "No, I don't know. I have amnesia, remember?"

This stops Sam short. Her brows crease in uncertainty. "Wait, you don't-you don't remember what happened?" Elizabeth doesn't dignify that with an answer, so Sam crosses an arm under her chest gesticulating with her other. "So Jason's the only one who knows what went down? Don't you wanna know?"

"Honestly, I don't even care, because, to me, the most important thing that came out of the time I missed is—" she cuts herself off, suddenly aware of the public setting they're having this conversation and how anyone could hear her admit that her friendship with Jason has been revived. She shakes her head, straightening up. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I have someplace I have to be," she ends their talk and strides towards the 10th floor elevators. Pressing the down button, she internally grumbles. So much for having a good day.

—

Elizabeth picks up Cameron's gray sweatshirt haphazardly thrown over the backseat of the kitchen chair and sits it in the basket of clothes she's carrying that need laundering. When she feels her ribs and chest muscles pinch, she strides towards the laundry room knowing she's at her lifting limit. Tossing the clothes inside the washing machine, she hears the front door creak open. Looking towards the old fashioned pink digital clock positioned on the folding table, she notes the time. 12:35 p.m.. She rolls her eyes. Right on time.

Instead of starting the machine, she walks on silent, socked feet to the kitchen where she peaks around the corner. Franco peers around couches and under pillows, searching for something with diligence. She presses herself against the wall, breaking her visual of him with a sigh. This is the second time in the past week he's come home with the excuse of wanting to have lunch with her when she knows he's just trying to catch her in the act. She wonders not for the first time why she hasn't broached the topic of separation with him yet.

"Misplaced something?" she asks in faux concern, coming around the corner.

He jumps and whirls to face her, posture tight as a wound up spring. "Uh, I was just, uhh, trying to straighten the cushions, you know, because the boys and me were kind of rough housing earlier. Sorry, by the way," he sputters sheepishly and begins fixing the cushions that were straight before he arrived. "And I also thought we could have lunch again, because it was so great last time."

She crosses her arms and looks to the side feeling her ponytail spill over her shoulder. "Or you wanted to see if Jason was here."

The already quiet room becomes a vacuum of nothing for several moments.

Franco erects himself slowly, not meeting her eyes. "That's not what this is."

She takes a step towards him. "Oh yeah? You don't think I've caught on to your near daily inspection of our house?"

He looks at her now, silent.

She deliberates her next words. "You don't trust me. And..." she trails off at the stormy look forming within his dark eyes.

A feeling of abject dread swells in her belly turning her limbs to lead.

She changes her words, heeding some unknown instinct to table the topic of divorce for later. "And I understand. I mean, I did lie to Drew about his identity when I thought he was Jason just to keep him. What's to say I won't take advantage of our rekindled friendship?" she shrugs and drops her hands to her thighs where she grips the end of her shirt and tugs lightly.

When he slides his hands up her arms, he softens to resemble a Labrador asking for forgiveness. "That's not true. I do trust you. It's just that, well have you seen the guy?" his question is phrased rhetorically as he laughs, but when she doesn't answer he drops one hand and lifts the other to his hair. "I mean, if he wanted you-it looked like he wanted you-I'm pretty sure he would try and seduce you and maybe succeed..." He turns away before she can think of something to interject with. "Why would you want me when you could have him?" he finishes with a self-deprecating chortle.

She wrings her hands together, navigating the minefields of their conversation. "Jason is much too busy fighting a war to spare me a thought," she says then realizes that doesn't exactly confirm or deny his worries. Rushing to stand before him, she takes his hand in hers with an encouraging smile. "Why don't we just have lunch, okay? You don't want to be late getting back."

He watches his hand as it glides up her arm with a growing heat in his gaze. The hairs on the back of her neck raise. "Actually, I figured you and I could spend our time doing something else..." he suggests in a husky rumble.

She pulls her hands away. "Franco, my ribs aren't going to be fully healed until next week and it advisable to wait another two weeks after that."

He leans away with clear eyes. "Oh, shit I forgot. I'm sorry, I guess I just miss being with you. Just another thing to blame Jason for," he says the last part under his breath in frustration.

She bites her tongue to not to call him out on it. "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, cupping her arms. "Nah, you have nothing to be sorry for. I guess I should go though. You're right. I shouldn't be late." And then he swoops down and kisses her.

She was used to how his kisses felt. Safe, normal, and lacking a spark, but they were something she could work with. Now as his tongue strokes hers, she struggles to remain lax in his hold and not jerk back, repulsed as if she were kissing a guy strictly in the friend's zone. When he finally pulls away, her smile is winning and stays that way until the door closes behind him. Only then does she sink to the couch with her head in her hands.

She groans in dismay. "Oh god. I have three weeks to break up with him. That shouldn't be hard, right?"

—

Friday, October 16, 2020
Webber-Baldwin Living Room

A firm rapping jolts Elizabeth back into consciousness. Mind foggy from sleep, she's delayed in catching something as it tumbles from her lap. She sucks in a sharp breath when sticky, melted ice cream sloshes over the tub's rim and onto her clean, wood floor. "Damn it!" she hisses as her mind tries to catch up.

On the TV ahead of her the screensaver for the Blu-ray player drifts across the screen and she remembers she was watching Aiden's favorite Disney film, Tangled. She recalls the scene where Flynn and Rapunzel got trapped in a small cave with rising water and then… nothing. She rises to her feet, irritated by the mess and downright confused. She thought she had been regaining her energy back, but the past few days it's felt like she's been back at square one, falling asleep at the drop of a dime.

It's been a month since her ICU stay and she was getting ready to see if she could go back to work, but now she's not even sure if she could handle doing simple markups. She shuffles towards the kitchen, wincing as her bra sends pangs through her chest. And now the soreness there seems to have returned with a vengeance as well. She's starting to consider going to see a doctor. There could be something wrong with her recovery that she's not seeing—

A harder knock sounds, and she recognizes the reason why she woke up to begin with.

Cursing again, she calls, "Coming!" Depositing the carton of melted ice cream in the sink, she walks as fast as her aches allow, wanting nothing more than to rip off her bra and burn it. She peers through the peephole and takes a moment to tilt her head towards the sky and groan. Opening the door wide, she gives Carly's wide grin an unenthusiastic, "Hi," then turns back into her house where a mess awaits her.

The thud of Carly's boots on the floor entering behind her precede the shutting of the door. "What's crawled up your butt?" she asks in a voice lacking bite.

Elizabeth opens the faucet, dumps the liquid ice cream, and rinses it down the drain. After throwing it in the garbage with a little more force than usual, she pulls on rubber gloves and starts to partially fill a bucket with soapy water. "I fell asleep," she snaps then brushes past Carly on her way to the couch.

"You fell asleep…?"

Coming to her knees, she takes her damp sponge and grits her teeth as she scrubs. "I fell asleep, which is ridiculous because I've been needing to rest less and less lately. But these past few days, it's like I can't get enough," she grouses, feeling strained as she sits up to rinse and wring the sponge in the water before leaning over again. "And I fell asleep with ice cream during a great movie! I mean how am I supposed to go back to work if I can barely keep my eyes open?"

She senses Carly a little ways behind her. "It's only been, what a month? You can wait a little longer—"

"And that's not all," she continues barreling over Carly feeling like a burst dam. "Almost every night it's Jason, Jason, Jason."

"Franco's been harassing you about him?" There's a touch of concern in her tone, but Elizabeth hardly hears it, sitting up as her shoulders slump.

"No! He's in my dreams," she moans feeling as if her emotions are building up like a geyser she can't contain as she leans her forehead against her wrist. "I think I'm going insane, because it's something different every time. It makes me feel like some sort of sex addict and now-now I can't even look my husband in the eye without wanting to ask for a divorce. I'm not even attracted to him anymore - he feels like my freaking brother," the sponge splats on the ground when she drops it in her sudden need to rip her bra off from under her shirt, "and my chest keeps killing me because of this stupid thing—!"

Hands grab her wrists and hold them down in her lap. "Hey, hey, hey stop that. You're going to hurt yourself," Carly says sternly.

Elizabeth goes limp feeling the embarrassing sting of tears in her eyes. She keeps her eyes locked on the wet spots from her gloves darkening her cotton pants. "Go ahead. You can kick me while I'm down," she offers with no strength in her voice. Her vulnerability is on display like blood in an ocean.

"Mmm, you know the old Carly would've jumped at the chance, but… I can see you're having a bad day. So! As you're appointed fairy godmother, I'm gonna need you to go get cleaned up while I put this stuff away," Carly releases her wrists and starts collecting the sponge and bucket while Elizabeth watches, her throat tight.

"...Thank you," she croaks in gratitude. She knows it must've been hard for Carly to turn her down. She peels off her gloves and hands them over to Carly who remains sincere before doing as told.

She returns sans her bra in a baggy sweatshirt, her arms loosely curled around her chest, certain the strange truce between them is a fluke. Carly sits in the couch chair with one leg crossed over the other as she sips on a cup of coffee she helped herself to. Fiendish delight gleams in her eyes.

Elizabeth waits for the blow.

"Soo, sex addict?"

Not what she was expecting, but she groans anyway and plops down on her sofa. "I can't believe I said that." Then a tendril of unease slithers down her spine as she realizes what her outburst from before gave away. "Have you, uh, seen Jason recently by chance?" she fishes while fiddling with the edge of her sweatshirt.

Carly sits forward a little, her expression losing it's teasing edge. "Yeah, I don't get to see him as often 'cause he and Sonny are putting their heads together for the war thing. But I see him more than you've gotten to… He's fine," she nods with a kind smile hammering in her message, and a knot in Elizabeth's chest starts to loosen. "But to answer your actual question, yeah I know about what's going on between you two. So you can talk to me about it if you need too."

The knot falls apart and Elizabeth leans fully into the couch cushions, tentatively accepting this odd development with Carly. "Okay. I was a little fuzzy on all that was said in Canada, but I remember you saying you were my fairy godmother of all things... And I guess I just realized how few friends I have," she admits in a small, quiet voice as she stares at the dust motes drifting through the air within the shafts of afternoon sunlight. "I used to talk about this stuff with Emily when she was alive, and Robin before she moved away. There's Epiphany, but…" she flicks her gaze to Carly seeing the look of understanding in her eyes. "So thanks for offering to listen."

Carly shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee. "This is more for me anyway. I mean, I've already squeezed as much about this out of Jason as I could. Now I want to hear your side."

Elizabeth laughs, shaking her head at Carly's excuse for being nice, but lets it go. "It's not that I don't enjoy the dreams - god, far from it - it's just that I wake up, and... Jason's not there. Franco is," she sighs miserably. "And besides needing another two weeks before I'm allowed to be intimate again, I don't want him anymore. I just see him as a really good friend now. I was going to try and talk to him about getting a divorce last week, but I hesitated and—"

"Whoa, whoa. Wait a second. Time out," Carly rushes out, setting her mug down as she leans forward. Elizabeth is taken aback by the alarm blazing in her pastel blue eyes. "You can't do that."

Elizabeth's spine stiffens and a flash of anger expands in her chest as she narrows her eyes. She knew this was too good to be true. "If this is about trying to get Sam back with Jason—"

"No! This—" Carly huffs, taking a second to order her words. "Jason doesn't want Sam anymore. He made that very clear to me back in Canada which is why I'm even doing all this."

Elizabeth drops her guard halfway, squinting at Carly in caution. "So what do you mean I 'can't'?"

"Look, Jason said he tried to talk to you about this before the kidnapping, but you bit his head off before he could."

Slumping in her seat, she's overcome with regret. "He said that?"

Carly grimaces, guilty. "I kind of used those words more or less."

"You wouldn't be wrong..."

Carly waves her hand as if brushing away the matter. "The point is, he told me that Sam said something about Franco that had him worried. Do you remember Manny Ruiz?" she lays the question out slowly.

Elizabeth flinches anyway at the reminder of that sick monster. "Of course I do, he kidnapped me. He had us all fooled when he used his tumor as—" Her words abruptly die off as a terror like no other snares around her throat and yanks her under frigid waters. She can't- she can't breathe.

The shapes and colors in her vision become blurry and distant with darkness creeping in on all sides. Her ears fill with the peeling ring of a high frequency as her heartbeat surges faster and faster, frantic to escape the danger snapping at its heels.

"...beth! ...to breathe!"

A faint voice tries to dip into her awareness, but all she can see is the man she welcomed into her kid's lives. What have I done?!

"Breathe damn it! Think about Cameron, Jake, Aiden, and Jason. They need you!" Carly shouts desperately, cutting through the stabbing ice surrounding her.

Elizabeth surfaces with a ragged breath, the vice around her neck loosening the bare minimum.

"Good, now breathe in and out. In. Out," Carly instructs, and Elizabeth blearily notices her head is being held between her knees.

"'s not true! Can't be! It's been years," she gasps in denial, needing her words to be the truth.

Carly's hand rubs over her back. "Hey, just focus on getting your breathing even first. What if something serious happened? This time it wouldn't have been funny," she adds in strained jest.

The odd comment is enough to throw her off. She gains more control of her breathing in those precious seconds and is able to relinquish her death grip on her thighs, lifting shaking hands to her wet face instead. "Oh god. It can't be true! Because if it is then he's lied about everything," she sobs openly, her shoulders shaking with each heave. "Everything has always been about Jason with him since he came to town. He probably formed that bond with Jake because he's Jason's son. He probably wanted me because I'm what Jason wants but can't have."

She sucks in a breath, hands falling to bunch at her chest as her stomach rocks worse than a boat in stormy waters. Her eyes find Carly who fidgets like a woman out of her depth. "What if he lied about Sam? That was one of his greatest offenses - he could've lied about not raping her," she sees Carly's face blanch and everything inside becomes painfully tight. "Oh god, I slept with a rapist." She takes two short breathes before she's dashing to the bathroom as her stomach lurches.

—

She emerges from the bathroom after she's up-heaved every emotion that was threatening to immobilize her - fear, anguish, disgust - until she's left hollow and worn. What keeps her on her feet, what steels her spine is determination. Determination to pack her kids out of that house now.

Carly forms a barricade that keeps her from taking action. "Wait, I know what you're thinking because above all else, Elizabeth, you're a good mother. But I want you to think about this for a second - really think," Carly demands firmly.

Elizabeth waits, frame rigid.

"If you take those kids out of this house today and Franco was lying the whole time, what's to stop him from going after you?"

Elizabeth tries to push past her. "I'll go to the police and tell them he's been faking the whole time and we're in danger."

Carly doesn't budge. "They won't treat you seriously without any evidence. After you've been singing his praises all these years and with his status as a town hero, they'll just think this is a marriage problem you should take to a therapist. You and I both know how slippery Franco can be when he wants. And before you think the guards can protect you," Carly talks over her before she can voice her protest, "You've got two across the street and three who are only on duty tailing the kids when they're at school. That's it. Things are strained with this war going on, and Sonny and Jason are inaccessible most of the time - even to me," Carly explains, slow and rational to the point where Elizabeth begins to feel trapped in a small dark corner with no escape.

"And don't forget that Cyrus Renault is very much still a threat. He might be the one who grabs you, if you decide to leave."

Elizabeth draws her arms around herself, curling inward as the reality truly begins to set in.

Carly looks pained and sympathetic as she places her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders. "I hate to say this Elizabeth, but we only have one thing working for you right now: Franco's belief that he still has you snowed."

She thought she was all wrung out, but somehow hot tears seep from her eyes. "He's going to expect me to sleep with him soon and-and I can't give that to him. I don't want to give that to him even if he hasn't been lying about everything," she whimpers. But she knows Carly is right. She and her kids aren't technically in any immediate danger, but they could be if they disturb the spider's web with one ill placed move.

Carly's eyes harden. "Look, what you said about Sam... I'm going to do a little snooping. The quickest way to confirm whether or not Franco lied about it is to prove Danny's paternity which will take about a week." Elizabeth feels the hands on her shoulders squeeze. "You can do this for your kids."

Elizabeth nods in a blink, using her sleeves to wipe away her tears. She takes all her crumbling and volatile emotions and locks them in a box for later. She nods again. "Right. I'll be fine."

Carly steps back. "Don't tell anyone about this - not even Jason. This war is at the point of no return right now, so if he knew—"

"He might wind up dead trying to protect me, I know," she assures Carly with iron clad resolve.

Carly lets out a breath. "Okay. I'm gonna go. I'll let you know how the test results turn out and if Franco lied... I'm going to pack you up myself and get you out of this place," she promises, voice laced with seriousness. "God, I hope they finish off Renault soon. Jason really needs to be a part of this," she groans in her next breath, then makes a determined beeline towards Elizabeth's front door. Elizabeth follows after her.

"If anyone was listening to me before I came here, I made sure my whole excuse for coming by today was to return Cameron's chemistry book which I left on the coffee table." Carly opens the door, taking all the warmth with her so that the supportive smile she offers does nothing to reassure. "You're strong and this is going to be over soon. You're safer here right now than you think. Remember that."

Elizabeth closes the door quietly after she walks away and leans against it. Safe with a potential monster. Her fingers curl into tight fists against the polished wood and she slams her fists against the door with a scream.

God, she hates that word.

IRL Hurricane Laura is supposed to just miss my area, but you never know what could happen. If all goes well, I'll be back with my usual Friday update. Stay safe!