Prompt #4: "You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everybody dances with the Grim Reaper." Robert Alton Harris

Halloween Hookups

Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble

The idea of a home was something Jason Morgan found himself contemplating often. It had been more than two and half years since he had miraculously woken up from a comma, no longer the Quartermaine Golden Boy, but still he was unsure where he belonged. Sure, he had made a life for himself, but he didn't have a family in the traditional sense, he didn't form too many connections or roots anywhere which would bind him to a certain location, and he didn't attach importance to material possessions, but, like every person inevitably did, he found himself wanting a home.

His room above Jake's was a place to sleep, a place to grab a quick shower and change his clothes after a hard day's work, and, although Sonny often tried to talk him into an apartment at the Towers, he knew such a setup would feel more like a prison instead of a home. Temporarily, he could find solace and comfort on the back of his bike. With the wind rushing past his face at speeds pushing or past one hundred miles per hour, he could feel at home with himself and his surroundings, but, as soon as he climbed off his motorcycle, as soon as that rush was over, his sense of belonging, of being home disappeared.

The fact that he was having this thought in and of itself was a surprise to Jason. Although no one could say that he wasn't a contemplative, intelligent person, he tended to shy away from personal introspection and focus more upon facts and figures. He liked things that were concrete, unchangeable, things that could be depended upon like history and geography. Sonny liked the theoretical, and that was why he was the boss and Jason was his right hand man, and, on a night when all he wanted to do was forget about his responsibilities and obligations, the last thing he needed was to get lost in his own mind.

What he needed was a bike ride, was speed.

What he needed was a quiet game of pool and an ice cold bottle of his favorite beer.

What he needed was to go to Jake's, find a willing partner, and lose himself in some nameless, faceless sex.

With a plan of action in mind and newfound resolve, the enforcer quickened his steps across the docks as he made his way towards the alley where his motorcycle was parked. It would be easier to park it next to the warehouse, but that was too predictable, and, for a man whose very life depended upon keeping his enemies on their toes, predictability was a liability he couldn't have. So, he parked his bike in out of the way, unexpected places when he was working, and the inconvenience simply became habit.

Two steps at a time, he ascended the wooden stairs, his thoughts focused upon his next actions instead of watching and paying attention to his current ones. If he would have been aware of his own distraction, he would have known he was leaving himself open to attack, but Jason Morgan was a man on a mission, a man who was in desperate need of completing said mission, and even he was fallible once in a great while.

"So you're just going to run past me and not even say hello? I know we don't see each other very often, but I thought we were friends."

He knew that voice, would recognize it anywhere despite the fact that he had only heard it twice in his relatively short life, and, with the sound of it, all his previous plans disappeared. Pivoting on the heel of his boot, he turned around, regarded the petite brunette on the bench below him for several silent seconds, and made his way, this time slowly, back down the stairs and to her side.

"Hello, Elizabeth."

She smiled, a warm, almost infectious grin towards him, and patted the empty space beside her, wordlessly requesting him to join her. "Happy Halloween," she started to greet him but then stopped, glanced at her watch, shrugged her shoulders, and returned her gaze to his. "Or Happy Birthday to me, I guess, since it's now officially November 1st. I must have been too lost in thought to hear the church bells this year. Last year, I remember hearing them, but," she paused momentarily while scrunching her forehead in consideration, "I guess I'm not the same girl I was last year at this time, am I? Things have changed; I've changed. What about you?"

Having a hard time keeping up with her rapidly fired words and not quite understanding what she had asked, he cocked his head to the side and observed her closely. "Are you alright?"

A flippant, almost dismissive wave of her slender hand was the only response he received. "Aren't you going to answer my question?"

"What about me?"

She laughed, the rich, deep chuckle washing a warmth over them that the cold night air did not grant. However, despite her apparent amusement, Jason wasn't sure if she was actually happy or pretending to be. That, for the moment though, could wait.

"Have you changed as well?"

"Not really," he denied, rubbing the side of his face as he thought carefully about how to respond. "I'm sure something is different about me, but I don't pay too much attention."

"I think you're wrong," Elizabeth argued with him. "I think you pay more attention to the small things in life than any other person I know. However, you don't pay attention to yourself." Sighing, she took a sip of her drink before twisting around on the bench to face him and continuing her explanation. "But you have changed, Jason. I can see it when I look at you. Physically, except for a few more faint scars on your face and longer hair, you look the same, but, when a person takes the time to really see you, when they look into your eyes, you're different. You seem almost lonely."

"I'm not lonely right now," he pointed out with a small grin.

"No, I guess you're not, but that's because we've always been able to understand each other." Quirking her right brow, she watched him closely before inquiring, "are you happy, Jason?"

With anyone else, he would have ignored the question, but, besides knowing that she was too stubborn to let that slide, he also knew he could answer her truthfully. With a shrug of his shoulders, he admitted, "I don't know. What about you though, Elizabeth? Are you happy?"

"No," she denied quickly, instantly frowning. "I'm not happy. Don't get me wrong," she was quick to reassure him, "I'm not miserable, and I'm not depressed, and I'm certainly not sad either, but I'm not sure if I've ever been happy. I'll get these brief flashes of contentment, but that's basically it." She paused in her confession to take another sip of her hot beverage before she started to giggle. "That sounds so jaded, doesn't it? Look at us," she motioned between them. "Here we are, two relatively talented individuals who have both, one way or another, been given a second chance at life, and, instead of living it to fullest, we go through the motions, do what we need to in order to get by, and bury our unhappiness underneath duty and pride."

"You know, for someone I've only now seen three times in my life, you sure know a lot about me," the enforcer commented. Although there was a questioning nature to his remark, he didn't expect her to answer it. After all, he seemed to know her just as well for no explainable reason.

"Well, that depends upon the way you look at things," the recently turned sixteen year old beside him stated. "Jason Quartermaine met Lizzie Webber once."

"Oh, really, and how did that go?"

She laughed, actually blushing. "I flirted with him," Elizabeth admitted. "I was thirteen, thought myself to be a badass, and I flirted with someone who I knew by reputation alone." He scrunched his face up in question, wanting to know more about the encounter, and she must have sensed it, because she continued. "I hated Jason Quartermaine's sister, Emily, so I trespassed unto the Quartermaine property, smashed all their pumpkins, and Jason Quartermaine caught me." Giggling at the memory, she pushed on. "He demanded that I come back the next day to help him clean up the mess and replace all the jack-o-lanterns I destroyed, but I never heard from him again, and then the next year I met you."

Realization dawned. "So, that's how you knew my name when we met at the bridge." She nodded her head in response. "You know, I tried to do some digging, asked around trying to figure out who you were and how you could have known me, but no one had any idea. I'm glad you told me."

"I didn't want to say anything at first, because I wasn't sure how you would react to the information." Lowering her voice and averting her deep blue eyes from his crystal clear ones, Elizabeth explained, "I had heard through the grapevine that you didn't like people comparing you to who you used to be, and I didn't want to be another person who made you feel like you were a disappointment." Brightening, she glanced back up at him. "Besides, I kind of like Jason Morgan. He tends to come in handy sometimes."

"Oh, he does?" Despite himself, the enforcer laughed softly at her comment.

"Yes," the brunette supplied, "he seems to have perfect timing, knows exactly when I need a friend the most."

"Well, I like talking to you."

"The feeling is mutual, Jason," she returned with a smile. "However, I'm not so easily distracted. You didn't answer my question." When he tilted his head closer to her in silent query, she reiterated her inquiry from before. "Are you happy?"

"I like what I do, I have friends, I have my bike, and I enjoy playing pool at Jake's."

"Yeah, but those things aren't enough to make a person content," Elizabeth argued.

And just like that, he found himself confessing to her the thoughts he had been battling with earlier that evening. "I guess I wish I had a home. I want to belong somewhere."

"You want to be loved," she realized. Even though she didn't say it, Jason could see her understanding in her sympathetic gaze. However, she didn't make him feel pitied. In fact, he knew, in that moment, that she felt the same way he did, and, in return, he wanted to somehow find a way to comfort her.

"For now, friendship is enough."

To that, Elizabeth smiled before scooting closer to him and leaning against his side. For several quiet minutes, they sat in silence before she started talking again. "You know, of anywhere, I feel the most at home here down on the docks. I like the stillness. No one really bothers you here, because they all mind their own business, and I'm left to my own thoughts and the gentle sound of the lake lapping against the wooden pilings. It's nice, peaceful."

"And also dangerous," he added.

"Don't worry, Jason, I'm being careful. After what happened last year…" Her words trailed off but not before he could hear the shadows of fear tinge the soft strains of her voice with a sense of panic and dread at the haunting memories. "I don't take any chances. I have mace in my purse, a whistle on my key chain, and a cell phone programmed to call the cops upon voice demand in my coat pocket. I won't let anyone hurt me like that again."

Although he felt like ringing her parents' necks for not paying closer attention to her and blindly allowing her to constantly sneak out of the house, he had never told someone how to live their life, and he sure as hell wasn't going to start doing so now with Elizabeth. "Just be careful, okay? And, if you need me…"

"I know," she sighed out. As a small cloud formed from her exhaled breath, the enforcer caught the distinct scent of alcohol from the sixteen year old.

"Have you been drinking?"

"A little bit," she answered, shrugging her small frame in an uncaring manner while still not lifting her head from his shoulder. "I put some rum in my hot chocolate. At this point, after everything that has happened to me, alcohol would be the last thing that could kill me. Sometimes it helps to dull the edge, to make me feel less unnerved and unsure of myself."

He wanted to tell her that it wasn't a good idea, that drinking would only end up probably hurting her more, but he wasn't going to judge her, and she obviously wasn't drunk. For now, he would let it pass. After all, it was late, it was her birthday, and it was the first anniversary of the night any last shred of innocence she had managed to maintain over the years was stolen from her. However, even if he wasn't around her that often, Jason knew he would now have to make sure she was always alright, not because he worried about her or because he pitied her but because she was his friend and he was hers.

It wasn't much, and he sure as hell didn't feel at home yet, but, in that moment, he also didn't feel quite as alone anymore.