Prompt #7: Hey kids, wants some candy?

Halloween Hookups

Finger of Birth-Strangled Babe

Someone was following her, and it sure as hell wasn't reassuring like it had been the year before when Jason had a man assigned watching her. No, this time, Elizabeth had no idea why she had not one shadow that night, the one created by the full moon looming above, but two, and she wasn't going to pause on her way home, invite said shadow up for a midnight snack, and ask him what he wanted. She might be slightly crazy sometimes, but she wasn't certifiably insane. So, with her head down, she hastened her steps and made quick work of crossing the docks, hoping to lose the tail before she arrived at her apartment building. While it wasn't Harbor View Towers with its hired-gun militia standing guard, it was private, it was relatively secure, and she felt safe there.

Years before, she had dreamed of turning eighteen, graduating from high school, and telling her parents to shove their money where the sun didn't shine; she would support herself on her own. However, age and wisdom removed the rose tinted glasses from her eyes, and the artist realized it was better to accept some help when it was needed than let your pride get in the way of your success. So, she had made a deal with her parents. If they would agree to support her decision to study and become a painter, paying only for her tuition, she would get a job and pay for her living expenses. Although they still thought medicine was the only field a proper Webber should enter into, they had been begrudgingly impressed with her tenacity and strength of conviction, agreeing to her proposal.

So, here she was on the verge of turning nineteen, a relatively independent woman. She went to school during the day, taking a full course load of credits, and worked as a waitress at night twice a week, on the weekends, at The Port Charles Grill, and three times during the week at Kelly's. She had a small yet comfortable studio apartment where she both lived and worked, was slowly making friends on campus, and was quickly earning the admiration of her professors as they recognized her talent and dedication to her chosen medium. Life for Elizabeth Webber was good…or better than it ever had been before.

Sure, she was lonely, and, despite herself, she missed Jason. They had never been very present in each others lives in the past, but, even when he was thousands of miles away on another continent, the brunette had known he cared, that he would be there for her if she needed him, and that, somewhere in the world, there actually existed a person who understood her. But that was gone now. In one crushing move, the man, who had saved her all those years before in the park on a Halloween night that could not have been any more different than the one they were currently experiencing, had destroyed the very foundation they had built their friendship upon. Yes, it had hurt to realize his feelings weren't as deep, weren't as un-friend-like as her own, but what had truly broken her heart was finding out he was just another person on a long list who did not respect her. He hadn't trusted her enough to make her own decisions or to know how she felt, and he, through his own actions, had done something he said he never did – he told someone else what to do.

In that moment, when she had seen Jason in bed with another woman, she had turned her back on him, figuratively speaking. She knew it was irrational. Realistically, she had no hold upon him; he had been free to be with whomever he chose, but pain wasn't rational, and he had done nothing to make her change her mind. He had accepted her walking away, had let her go, and now, here she was a year later, after absolutely no contact with the blonde enforcer, alone and afraid just minutes before her birthday and wishing Jason was there to save her once again.

The thought only infuriated her even more.

With her frustration and fear prickling the back of her neck and spurring her on at a faster pace, she closed the last few yards separating her from the protection of her building, latching a slightly shaking hand onto the front door, but, before she could pull it open, someone's else's hand latched onto her arm, removing it from the door and pulling her back away from the apartment complex's entrance. She was trapped. Whoever it was who had been following her had caught up to her, and they were not going to let go anytime soon. Sheer and blinding panic immobilized her.

"Elizabeth, wait, please," a voice she knew from her past pleaded softly, the man's words coming from above her for he was taller. Instantly, her panic was replaced by furious resentment, steeling her body and tensing her muscles. "I've been trying to get you to stop and talk to me for the past fifteen minutes."

Rounding on the toes of her black, high heeled boots, the college student turned to face the man she now considered her adversary. "No, Jason," she argued, pushing roughly against his chest and, pleasantly surprising herself, making the mob hit man rock back a step before he could recover and right his position. "What you've been doing is stalking me! You of all people should know how that would mess with my head."

"I know I shouldn't have, but I had no other choice. I tried calling, but…"

"I changed my number," she interrupted him, her tone a mixture of icy rage and passionate suffering.

"Then I tried writing to you, but all my letters were sent back."

"That tends to happen when you move." Gesturing vaguely behind her, she referenced the apartment building. "If you hadn't realized it yet, I live here now."

"I know," Jason admitted. "I had you checked out."

"You did what?"

"Well, how else was I to find out where you were, Elizabeth," he countered, unapologetic for invading her privacy. "You were avoiding me, and I needed to see you; I needed to talk to my friend."

Lifting her face and squaring her jaw, the artist challenged him. "I'm not your friend."

"You might not consider me a friend after…," his voice trailed off. Quirking a jaunty brow at the enforcer, she realized he was uncomfortable with the turn their conversation had taken and could not say the words that would admit his actions out loud. The petite brunette found that fascinating, but, before she could analyze his behavior, he pressed on. "But, no matter what, you'll always be important to me. Nothing could change that."

Suddenly the small victory she had won at his embarrassment and shame at his own actions was dimmed by her own feelings of hurt. "Apparently I wasn't important enough."

"I'm going to be a father."

Now that she had not been expecting, and, by the self-loathing rolling off Jason, she knew the older man had not intended to share his news with her in that way.

"Well, at least we know it wasn't an immaculate conception."

"Elizabeth," he groaned out, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sound of her sarcasm.

"Don't Elizabeth me," she accused, jabbing an irritated finger into the strong wall of his chest. "We don't see or talk to each other for a whole year…"

"And whose fault is that?"

"Oh, I would so not go there if I were you," the artist warned, backing a step away from the man she once considered her confidant and protector, "because I would, hands down, win that battle."

"You're right."

"You can bet your ass that I'm right," she tossed back at him, still not pacified by his calm acceptance of the blame for their failed relationship. "Like I was saying," she continued, "it has been twelve long months since we were even in the same room with each other, and you follow me home and confront me outside my apartment building to tell me that you knocked up some random slut? What the hell did you want me to do…to say? I really don't think I could muster a very convincing congratulations. The most I can offer you is some advice." She paused to catch her breath and found the alleged hit man watching her closely, his eyes, though resigned, tinged with remorse and sorrow. "Get a paternity test."

"What?"

"If this woman, who claims to be having your child, jumped into bed so easily with you, then you better damn well believe that she did the same exact thing with countless other men, and, let's face it, Jason, anyone with the intelligence level of a five year old would be able to realize who you are and just how powerful and wealthy you are." Reiterating her words, she advised him again. "Get. A. Paternity. Test."

Spinning around, she moved to go inside again, but his words made her pause.

"I'm… I'm terrified, Elizabeth."

Damn her compassion. Damn her soft spot for bad boys. And damn her inability to ever genuinely stop caring for Jason Morgan. With those four despondently whispered words, he had reeled her in, and she knew she wasn't going anywhere soon unless he went with her.

"I just…I never thought I'd be a father," he continued to talk from behind her, confessing his deepest fears to her slumped shoulders and wind blown hair. "It was never a part of the plan."

"You can't plan your whole life," she murmured in response, unsure if he could even hear her. "Things happen; things change. What matters is how you react to the unexpected."

"But look at my life," the enforcer pressed. "Damn it, Elizabeth, I kill people for a living."

Pivoting around, she reached up and slapped her hand against his mouth. "Have you gone insane?" Glowering at him, she shook her head in annoyance.

Men really were the weaker sex. And stupid, too.

"You do not admit to offing people in public. You're lawyer would have a shit fit if she ever found out about that little admission of yours." Lowering her voice and her arm, the college student took his hand and led him inside with her. "Do you realize how lucky you are that it's late and no one else is around? Otherwise, we'd be finishing this conversation in a holding cell down at the PCPD." As they approached the elevator, she turned to look at the older man beside her once again only to find a satisfied smirk lighting up his face. "What the hell are you smiling about, Big Daddy?"

"I thought you weren't talking to me?"

"Don't get cute," she warned him. Too bad it was the exact wrong thing she should have said. His grin only grew wider. "I'm calling a temporary cease fire. We're going to go upstairs," she explained. "You're going to tell me about this kid of yours, I'm going to listen and only interject snarky comments when I deem them necessary, and then we're going to figure this out together…for old time's sake."

"And in the morning?"

"Who said you're spending the night?"

"This is a conversation that's going to take a while, Elizabeth," he rationalized. "You wouldn't make me go home when I was emotionally drained and exhausted, would you?"

Now she knew he was teasing her. "Oh, you'll go home, even if I have to pour an entire pot of coffee down your throat to ensure you don't pass out on the way back to Jake's."

Just then, the elevator bell pealed and the doors opened as they arrived at her floor. As she went to step out into the hallway, she found that her left hand was still joined with Jason's right.

"By the way, Elizabeth," he brought her attention back to his face. "Happy Birthday."

Damn it.

Evidently, she had just gotten her friend back. The sneaky bastard.