A/N: And here's the last one! I wrote these in a hurry and I think it shows, but finally, I can get them out of my head!
The day Elizabeth Webber gives birth to her fourth child, she is ready to concede that she is happy with her life and that leaving Port Charles and everything she had built there behind for a life on the run was a small price to pay for having all of her children restored to her.
She hadn't always thought so. Not that the price was too high - that was impossible - but it had not seemed small. She had raged at Lucky in the beginning. She would always love him for a thousand reasons, but especially for being the one to bring Jake back to her, but that hadn't stopped her. Reeling with joy and disbelief at having her dead son alive and in her arms, imagining with horror what he must have endured for years with Helena, she had not been able to really comprehend what else Lucky had told her, let alone temper her emotions.
Jake couldn't stay. Not in the open, not in Port Charles. Helena was still out there, so were her mad scientist co-conspirators and they were unlikely to give up on...whatever they had been doing with Jake. He needed help, psychological and physical, maybe even deprogramming, and he needed protection. The WSB was willing to provide both, in exchange for Lucky working for them, which he in turn was more than willing to do. He could help bring down the whole "Legion of Doom" as he called it, with bitter humor. He had negotiated with Director Jones and the agency was willing to take Elizabeth, Cam, and Aidan into hiding as well, if they chose to go, but in any case, Lucky and Jake had to leave. Immediately.
She had been furious. She couldn't be separated from Jake again, not after just getting him back, but she had a whole life, friends, a career, in Port Charles. How could she uproot the boys, how could she leave Grams, who was getting older, with no guarantee that she would ever return? To go into hiding, to live in fear?
She had flung all this at Lucky, who had countered with cold logic and restrained sympathy, but she hadn't mentioned Jason. She could not possibly explain the Jake Doe situation to him, she could barely explain it to herself, but, oh, it wasn't fair! Finally, it was their time and now it was all being ripped away!
She had chosen her son, of course. She had screamed herself hoarse and then, numb, had packed hastily for herself and the boys, following Lucky's directions. He was, no surprise, adept at traveling light.
Her anger had flared again, a few weeks later, in the underground WSB hospital in Budapest where Jake was undergoing every medical and psychological test ever invented, when Lucky had admitted to her that Nikolas had told him the truth about Jason and so Lucky had made sure Jason knew it, too. Before they left Port Charles, he had tracked Jake Doe down and told him to his face, "Your name is Jason Morgan." He had no idea what Jason had done with that information. It didn't matter, he insisted. Port Charles was behind them, they had to focus on keeping their family safe.
She had burned with shame and fury, unable to bear the thought of what Jason must think of her. What everyone must think of her. If it didn't matter, she'd finally asked him, why bother telling her he'd spilled the secret?
"Because we have to trust each other now, no matter what," he'd said. "Our lives and our boys' lives depend on it. There's no room for secrets or lies."
The next year had been hard. Moving from place to place, taking on new identities. She coped by focusing on Jake's recovery and raising the boys, and Lucky on his WSB work. Sometimes weeks would pass without hearing a word. She lived in terror that he would be killed. She did trust him more than anyone on earth, and knew he would never stop until he had made the world safe for their children.
Something had shifted after that disastrous op in Rio de Janeiro. He had nearly died jumping off a train and with two broken legs - among other injuries - he'd been laid up for nearly four months. She was still a nurse, and the WSB was happy to utilize her skills in caring for one of their most talented, if undisciplined, agents. It was the longest consecutive amount of time they had spent together in years and it was probably inevitable that they would fall in love again. She understood herself well enough by then to realize she had never really fallen out of love with Lucky. He was as much a part of her as the blood pumping through her veins.
It had not been easy, even after that, to find an equilibrium and Elizabeth, holding her daughter now, decides it is all the better for being hard-won.
Lucky looks as tired as I feel, she thinks, giving him a sidelong glance. He had barely noticed when Soledad, the midwife, had finally left, sitting next to her on the bed, gazing rapt at the swaddled bundle in her arms.
"She's got good lungs," he says. "We picked the right name. She'll holler at anyone who crosses her, I bet."
Elizabeth laughs. Ruby Audrey Spencer is asleep now, but she has already screamed louder than any of her brothers ever had, and she is only five hours old.
"Good," she says. "I could use some help keeping all you wild boys in line. Speaking of, should you go..." She doesn't even finish the sentence before she hears a door slam and running feet. Lucky tenses instinctively, but they both recognize those particular treads within an instant.
The door flies open and their sons coming spilling through. "Mom!" Aidan shouts, running full-tilt, but his father is faster and he grabs the compact eight year-old around the stomach before he can fling himself on the bed.
"Take it easy, kiddo. You don't want to dogpile on your mom and little sister just yet. She's breakable."
"She's little," Jake says, wide eyes making him look, for once, as young as he actually is. He has bounced back incredibly in the past three years, but his time held prisoner has marked him.
"She is at that," Elizabeth says lightly, before passing her over to the patiently waiting Cameron. At fifteen, her firstborn has grown enough to tower over her and is all lanky muscles and freckles from the Mexican sun. His hair is still a mess of unruly curls, though, and she had nearly cried a few weeks ago when Lucky had arrived from his latest mission with his hair shorn close to his scalp - there was a story there, but she hadn't wormed it out of him yet - and teasingly threatened to do the same to Cam.
"She looks like you, Dad," Cam is saying now. "And just like Aidan did when he was a baby."
"Figures," Elizabeth, says rolling her eyes in Lucky's direction. With the exception of Cam - she sees those big brown eyes in the mirror every day - not one of her children shows any physical sign that she had been involved in their conceptions at all.
"She might be funny-lookin' now, but soon she'll be a beautiful as your mama," Lucky retorts breezily.
The older boys laugh, but Aidan looks indignant. "Hey!" He climbs carefully on the bed at her side. "I'm not funny-lookin'!"
"Daddy is teasing," she assures him, pulling him close and giving her other men a reproachful look. "Do you want to hold Ruby?"
He nods seriously, and she gestures at Cam to hand the baby over to his brother, which he does with a gentleness that causes moisture to spring to her eyes. She regrets that their life has made him grow up faster than he needs to, and she thinks she might have relied on him too much, but his kindness and steadiness has been a lifesaver these past three years. She has no idea where he got his good sense from - she and Lucky both are impetuous people with self-destructive tendencies, and so, for that matter, was Zander. She can only imagine that Cameron Steven Spencer is a throwback to the great-grandfather whose name he carries.
Jake is now clamoring for his turn to hold his sister and she meets Lucky's eyes and is blown away by the sheer joy in them. Yes, she is happy, despite danger and loss and everything she's given up. Somehow, after so long, she and Lucky have finally found peace.