Prompt #3: A pumpkin and a princess.

Halloween Hookups

Like a Hell-Broth Boil and Bubble

There were no ifs, ands, or tail feathers about it – the stork's water bowl had been seriously spiked the day he decided to deliver one Miss Elizabeth Imogene Webber to her rather depressed and regretful parents. Sure, by the grace of a few hours, she had managed to escape actually being born on the one day a year when it was acceptable…hell, preferable for all the wackos and jackos to show their true colors, but would it have been too much to ask to be born during February, or August, or, hell, she would have even taken June…despite the fact that a pearl really was a lame ass birthstone. But, NO!, of course her life couldn't be that simple. Instead, she was stuck having her birthday fall on the day after Halloween, making it oh so very tempting for her parents to go and do something as asinine as throwing her a Halloween themed surprise birthday party, a costumed one no less. Life really did suck.

As she rather limped into the park that evening due to her left heel having been snapped off during a particularly enthusiastic version of the Electric Slide, she watched as her vision blurred with tears she absolutely refused to shed. After all, most girls would be grateful that their parents did such a thoughtful thing as throw them a birthday party, but Lizzie Webber was anything but grateful, especially when both her mother and her father, not to mention her two older siblings, knew she hated her birthday and surprise parties. And insult on top of insult, she really had no friends, so all the other teenagers who had been invited to her party had been there because either Sarah wanted them there or because they wanted Sarah.

But none of those things particularly bothered Elizabeth. No, what bothered her was the fact that the boy she liked, Travis Schuster, a junior she had AP art with, had come to her birthday party, ignored her the entire time, and eventually disappeared into a corner to make out with her sister. The worst part was Sarah knew that she liked him, but that had not stopped the blonde from having a little fun of her own.

So now, after enduring three hours of pure torture, here she was in the park alone on Halloween. Far off church bells sounded midnight, alerting her to the fact that she was officially fifteen, but the knowledge wasn't comforting. In fact, it simply made her even more frustrated, because here she was, magically a year older, and she didn't feel any wiser or more mature than she had the year before. Instead, what she felt was jealousy towards her old self, towards the fourteen year old Elizabeth who spent the night of her birthday the year before sitting before a statue in the middle of nowhere and talking to one very attractive and sweet Jason Morgan. Although she hadn't seen the older man since that night, for some reason, he was never very far from her thoughts, and she found herself wondering if fate would intervene and she would see him once again. It had been her birthday wish as she blew out the candles, and, even thought it was a rather misguided wish, she stood by it.

As she glanced up at the inky black sky to watch the first snow flake of the season fall down to land squarely on her nose, Elizabeth found herself wondering what Jason was doing that night. Was he alone and thinking about his life like she was, or was he with someone close to him, someone he cared about? She hoped it was the latter. After all, whether Quartermaine or Morgan, he had always been nice to her, a rarity in her life, and she wanted to return the favor to him.

She was so lost in thought, imagining the older man's features as she moved an invisible paint brush over a bare canvas in her mind, that she almost didn't hear the approach of footsteps from behind her. Almost. They were heavy but quick; the person obviously had a purpose in mind, and they reminded her of the sounds Jason's steps had made a year before when he had found her out by the old abandoned bridge. Without turning around to see for herself that he had indeed found her on the night when she needed a friend the most, Elizabeth greeted him.

"I knew you would find me. We seem to be making a habit out of this."

The laughter that was emitted from behind her though did not belong to the blue eyed, blonde haired man she had been expecting, and, while Jason Morgan was not a man to laugh very often, she knew the sound of his amusement would not be as sinister, as cruel, as callous as the laughter she had just heard. Before she could turn around to face the stranger though, an arm was wrapped around her neck, a gloved hand was positioned across her mouth, and she was lifted with ease off the park bench.

"Expecting someone else, Princess," the faceless man asked, whispering in her ear and making chills run down her spine. Whoever this person was they were definitely not Jason, and they were definitely not a friend.

However, as she struggled, kicking, flailing, and attempting to bite at her attacker, the fear she knew she was experiencing in that moment was pushed aside, and everything else around her became crystal clear.

The man who was dragging her through the park wasn't very tall and he wasn't over large or particularly strong, but, because of her petite frame, he could easily overpower her. His clothes were black and of poor quality for she could see with the aid of a lamppost's light the uneven stitching and threadbare fabric. The scent of fall, of dried leaves, death, and change assaulted her nostrils, and, combined with the putrid stench of her attacker's breath, it was definitely not the last thing Elizabeth Webber wanted to smell before she was hurt…or worse, but the thing she noticed the most was the irony of the situation.

Just as the stranger had called her 'Princess,' that was indeed what she was that evening. As a part of her surprise party, her parents had ushered her into a small room off to the side of the hall where she could change into the costume they had picked out for her – that of a princess. So, in the moment her body was slammed to the ground, the moisture of the night seeping through the thin dress she wore, Elizabeth realized this was her fairytale, her very own, fucked up, poignantly cruel fairytale. She had the dress, she had the crown, she had the prince who had turned back into a frog when he made out with her sister, and she even had the goddamned glass slipper that broke while she was trying to make it back home before midnight. There were just two things that were missing from her fairytale: a happily ever after and a pumpkin. After all, Cinderella needed a pumpkin for her carriage, and that was one thing definitely lacking from her nightmare.

The sound of fabric being torn brought her back to the present, and she noticed her attacker's hands literally ripping her dress off her body. Inch by inch, seam by seam, the fabric was being split in two. It was sad really, but it took that sight to make her fight harder. It made her kick her legs a little bit more forcefully, it made her ball her tiny hands into fists to pound them against the stranger's shoulders, and it made her finally succeed in biting through the leather glove covering her mouth so he would remove it from her lips and allow her the chance to scream for help, because, if nothing else, she was not going to return home with her rented costume ruined, for her parents would never let her live that one down. If she did, it would be – Lizzie Webber strikes again. Why do you have to be so unappreciative Elizabeth? Your father and I tried to do something nice for you, and this is how you repay us? It's really a shame that you're not more like your sister. Sarah would never purposely destroy a costume we rented for her.

If nothing else, she would not give her parents the satisfaction of causing her pain even just one more time.

With renewed strength, a strength and determination she didn't even know she possessed, Elizabeth shoved against her attacker one last time, hoping, praying, begging for her efforts to be enough so that she could get away and live life another day, but, when she opened her eyes to see if she had actually managed to fight off her would-be-rapist, he wasn't there. In fact, no one was.

Crying and shivering, she carefully pushed herself up off of the ground, holding her ripped dress together as she searched around her. As her eyes adjusted to the night once again, she realized her birthday wish had come true. Jason Morgan had found her, but, instead of simply being there to listen this year, he had managed to, if not save her life, then to save her sanity, and, in that moment, she didn't care that he was standing with his back towards her holding a gun on the man who had attacked her, she didn't care that he was on his cell phone, demanding someone's presence in the park within five minutes, and she no longer cared that it was her birthday and she was a princess without a happily ever after, because what she had instead was both time and her Prince Charming. While Prince Charming might not have been Tyler Schuster, for Elizabeth in that moment, he was a leather jacket wearing, motorcycle driving alleged hit man for the mafia.

However, as she watched Jason move towards her, his eyes alight with both concern for her and anger towards the man who had tried to hurt her, she rationalized with herself that she would keep his part in her own little personal fairytale a secret…at least for now.

"Are you alright?"

It was too soon for words, so she managed to nod her head just once before the floodgates opened and her silent tears turned into frame wracking sobs only to be comforted when her friend swore under his breath and pulled her chilled, quaking, and bruised form against his much larger, warm one. Never had Elizabeth ever felt as safe as she did for those few brief moments in the park when Jason Morgan held her in his arms. However, the spell was broken much too soon for her liking, and he pulled away when the man he had called on his phone, someone he referred to as Johnny, arrived to take over the situation from his boss.

"Come on," Jason directed her, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. Together, without another word, they walked out of the park, the paved pathways twisting and twining through the dying foliage as snow fell gently around them. As they reached the gate at the entrance of the park, he paused and moved them towards a parked bike. "Here," Jason handed her a helmet, practically forcing it into her hands. "I'll give you a ride, okay? You really shouldn't be walking out alone this late at night. Do your parents even know that you're not at home?"

She knew he was waiting for an answer, but, despite her best efforts to focus, to form a logical response to his queries, she just couldn't do it. Instead, she tilted her head back, looked her friend in the eye, and started to laugh.

"What," Jason demanded, immediately becoming worried again. "What is it; what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Elizabeth reassured him, managing to talk through her giggles. "For the first time tonight, everything's alright. You're here, it's after midnight on Halloween so technically it's my birthday, and I've found my pumpkin."

His words were unsure, hesitant. "Your pumpkin?"

She nodded, still laughing, and pointed towards his motorcycle. "My pumpkin. It might not be a horse drawn carriage, but it looks like a hell of a lot more fun."

"Elizabeth did you hit your head? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

"No, I'm okay." When his gaze narrowed in disbelief, she pressed. "Really, I promise. Besides a few bruises, I'm physically okay. I just…thanks for finding me, Jason."

He simply nodded his head and helped her unto the back of his bike. As they drove away from the park, her arms wrapped securely around him, she wasn't sure if his silence was due to the fact that he didn't know what to say or if the words were really not necessary, but, really, did it even matter? She was alive, because of Jason, to think about it another day.

A second chance, a girl could get worse things for her birthday.