Okay, so she was settled. More than settled. Which, really? Did nothing to explain why she’d been cooped up in her room for 48 hours straight.

Jason and Sonny had been really good about giving her space. Too good, really. She’d hear them whispering by her door, hesitating, before knocking and asking her down for dinner. Her response was usually the same. She wasn’t hungry. Or she had a headache. Or she was going to take a nap. But she was beginning to run out of excuses. And if the gnawing in her stomach was any indication, her appetite had returned.

It was time to bite the bullet. Besides, she really needed to have that talk with Sonny about Dominic. He’d been on her mind a lot. She’d even taken the time to solve that cold hands problem. They weren’t perfect and they wouldn’t match his jacket…okay, so they were downright ugly! But she’d only had yellow and orange yarn for some strange reason. Still, the mittens she’d knitted for him would keep him warm. It was the thought that counted, right?

Putting on her best brave face, Elizabeth slipped off the bed, feeling the coolness of the wood floor on her bare feet. She’d unpacked almost immediately after Jason had left her that first day, folding and arranging her clothing in the beautiful antique dresser against the far wall. She hung the few fancy articles of clothing she owned in the closet above the empty suitcases she’d tucked away there.

The box of art supplies and canvases still remained rooted in the same place she’d set them down two days ago. There wasn’t a whole lot to be inspired about. There were assignments due for her art class, though. She couldn’t ignore them forever. She just needed one more day—one more day to give her clarity and motivation. Or maybe two. Or three. One week and that’s all. Just one week and she’d be back on top of things.

Today she had actually dressed. The previous day had mostly been spent in bed in her pajamas. It was a small accomplishment, but it was progress.

Her steps were skittish on the cold flooring while she made her way to the dresser. She was still trying to get used to the old house. The temperature fluctuated from one side of the room to the other and the floor was always like ice, but she liked the room too much to make mention of it to Sonny or Jason. Rifling through the drawer, she produced a pair of black socks and quickly put them on her feet. It was better, but her toes were still freezing.

Stepping into the hall, she walked down the long corridor until she hit the stairwell. The house was quiet save for the low creaking it made when she stepped over a particularly well-worn spot on the top of the stairs. She hurried down the rest of the stairs and stopped just outside of the living room. The crackle and smoky smell of wood burning alerted her that the fire was roaring and that someone was probably in the room.

She wasn’t sure who she wanted to see when she tipped her head into the room, but was pleasantly surprised to see Sonny sitting in the leather lounge chair. His gaze was focused out the window. She took a few more steps into the room. “Sonny?”

Sonny turned his head, his eyes drifting up to meet hers. They were a warm, dark shade of brown. Recognition flickered and his smile soon appeared, baring his teeth and dime-sized dimples. “Elizabeth.”

“Hey.” Unconsciously, she bent her head and let her hair fall forward to cover her bruised face. She sauntered over to the ottoman closest to the fire to warm her feet.

Sonny set down the mug that had been resting in his hands and leaned forward. “How are you?”

It was such a hard question to answer. She didn’t want to lie to him. But she didn’t want him to worry, either. “Better, thanks.”

And she was better. She had slept almost two hours last night before the nightmares had caused her to jackknife in bed, hugging her pillow to her chest and trying to squelch the rapid beat of her heart.

“Good,” he said, but there was a lack of confidence in his voice. “Listen, I made lasagna. I know it’s your favorite. You want some?”

She thought she’d been hungry, but the thought of food suddenly turned her stomach. “No. Thanks, Sonny, but I’m not really hungry.”

She could see the concern flare in his eyes. God, she hated this. She hated having everyone walking on eggshells in their own home, afraid of what they said to her, afraid of how their actions would be perceived. But mostly, she hated that despite wanting more than anything to just give in and pretend she was okay, if only to see the concern melt away from their eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to falsify her state of mind. And worst of all, she knew that however she was feeling it was okay. No one was asking her to be someone she wasn’t.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yeah?”

His eyes were imploring. “Are you sure? Just a little, maybe?”

“I’m okay,” she assured him, turning to look into the fire. The flames flickered, licking at the gray brick. The heat of his gaze seemed to burn hotter. She didn’t turn, but her mouth opened and the words came out anyway. “What is it?”

“It’s just…” He sighed.

She studied him with a painter’s admiration, her gaze steady and focused. It wasn’t hard to see the worry lines framing his eyes. The artist in her thought he looked tragically beautiful, but the woman in her, the friend, wanted him to stop hurting. She had put that look in his eyes. If only she knew how to take it back.

“Sonny—”

“You’ve lost weight…weight you can’t afford to lose,” he said, his voice hitching.

Pushing her hair out of her face, trying unsuccessfully to force a wayward curl behind her ear, Elizabeth attempted to smile. “I’m fine, Sonny. Stop worrying. I’ll eat…I’ll eat later. Okay?”

Sonny relaxed into his chair, but the worry still marred his features. Even his shoulders were tense. “Sure. Yeah, okay.”

Elizabeth looked up, tilting her head the side, remembering her reason for being there. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about Dominic.”

Sonny’s brows crinkled together. “Uh, okay. Did something happen?”

Elizabeth bit her lip debating how to broach the delicate subject. “Well, no. I mean, not really. But I have a feeling that he…” She struggled for the right approach.

Her feet had begun to thaw and she rubbed them back and forth against the soft area rug underneath them. She could feel Sonny’s eyes on her.

“That he what?” he prompted.

Finally she looked at him and let her thoughts spill out in a tumble of words. “I just think he’s a lot more sensitive than he may lead on. I know he may act tough, but… I talked to him and I get the impression that he hasn’t grown up in the…safest environments.”

Sonny sat back, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I… I wondered that.”

“Oh?”

“It’s nothing,” Sonny said, with a wave of his hand. Then his shoulders slumped. “Well, to tell you the truth… We had an incident.”

Elizabeth’s heart began to thump in her chest. “What do you mean?”

“He kind of…” Sonny shook his head. “I think he thought I was going to, uh--”

Elizabeth cringed. “Hit him?”

“Yeah.” Sonny nodded. The regret shinned through his brown eyes. “I wouldn’t, of course.”

“No, I know,” she assured him.

“We were putting away some of the ornaments. He dropped one. You can probably guess the rest.”

Elizabeth felt her breath falter. “Which one?”

“What’s that?” Sonny asked, lost in thought.

“Which one did he drop?”

He broke her gaze. “Oh. The, uh, the angel. The one--”

“That your wife bought. Oh, Sonny.” She moved from her place by the fire, kneeling in front of him to take his hand in hers. His fingers were warm, comforting.

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “I guess I yelled a little, but not… I didn’t want him to cut himself, that’s all.”

She patted his hand. “I know. And the angel?”

Sonny smirked. “Good as new. Thanks to Jason.”

Elizabeth felt her own smile trying to work its way to the surface. “Where is he now?”

“Outside. Come look.” Sonny stood and ventured to the large window, overlooking the large monastery grounds.

Elizabeth sidled up to him, peering out the foggy window. The shape of the small boy easily made the smile finally break free on her face, but it was the much larger, leather-clad figure rolling around in the snow, that brought that smile into her eyes. “What are they doing?”

“It looks like they’re building a snowman.”

Outside the ground was covered in bright white snow. There were footprints all around Jason and Dominic and spots of grass poked through the places where they’d gathered up all the snow.

Elizabeth frowned. Neither one of them was dressed very warm. “They’re going to get frostbite.”

“I’ll get Dominic some gloves.”

“Wait,” she said, touching Sonny’s shoulder to stop him. “Let me. I could use the fresh air.”

“Okay,” he said and his gaze once again rested on the figures outside the window.

Elizabeth watched Sonny for a moment, watched the concern and affection streak across his face. He would have made a good father.

______

Elizabeth bounded up the stairs and into her room, gathering the mittens she had knit. Hastily, she pulled on an extra sweater and then her coat and hat, reaching inside her pockets for her own mittens. She found her boots in the hallway and tugged them on before she exited the house.

She watched them for a moment, quiet, taking it all in. They didn’t know she was there. At least, Dominic didn’t. She saw Jason turn in her direction, a clump of snow in his bare hands, ready to build up the third layer of their snowman. She wondered, idly, if he could feel her presence. Because sometimes, sometimes when it was impossible to know where he was, she could sense him.

The air smelled clean, fresh like the layers of snow covering the ground and there was just a hint of smoke from the chimney wafting in the air.

She smiled. “Jason.”

His spine straightened, seemingly surprised to see her. “Hi.”

“You’re not setting a very good example,” she reprimanded. Her tone was light and she laughed softly.

She felt his eyes on her body, lifting slowly upward, over her curves, until their eyes locked. There was an affectionate glint in Jason’s eyes—a crack in his otherwise stoic mystique—and it made Elizabeth’s cheeks burn.

“What?”

“You should be wearing gloves.”

“Uh…” He looked down at his hands, studied them. There were red and raw but he didn’t feel the cold.

“Maybe you could find some…inside?”

Jason narrowed his eyes, his head rotating to the side.

Elizabeth tilted her head toward the house, hoping their silent communication skills still held some weight.

“Oh! Right. I’ll, uh…I’ll be back,” he said, taking the wordless hint.

Jason watched her a minute before he retreated to the house. Her eyes were dim. That sparkle that they once possessed was hiding. The dark circles had been there for days and even Elizabeth had given up trying to cover them up with foundation. But all he could see was how beautiful she looked standing in the snow, white flakes dancing around her and tickling her skin.

Taking one last look, he headed inside.

Elizabeth was quiet watching Jason retreat. She waited until the door to the house was closed and Jason was safely inside before her attention turned back to Dominic. He was still working feverishly on the gigantic snowman.

She whistled low. “Wow. That is one monstrous snowman.”

Dominic stopped working to appraise the large snowman in front of him. It towered over him. Jason was the best snow man builder there ever was. “Wanna help?”

She smiled and it was genuine. “I thought you’d never ask. I love the snow,” she said, absently.

“Me, too! So does Jason. He said there are places that have snow all year round. Do you think that’s true or was he pulling my leg?”

The question was innocent enough, but in the world Dominic grew up in, lies fell around him like the flakes of snow currently falling from the sky. He needed affirmation that Jason was not a liar. That there was something and someone to believe in, that there was still hope in this messed-up world. Or maybe that was Elizabeth projecting. Whatever the case, his eyes implored her for an answer.

Elizabeth shrugged. “It’s probably true.”

“Jason’s pretty smart, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.

Her quick response seemed to satisfy him.

“We’re going to get sticks for arms and coal for his eyes. Jason says he can help me find some.”

Butterflies were swarming in her stomach. The way Dominic’s whole face lit up when he spoke of Jason…she had to wonder if it mirrored her own expression. “That’s wonderful. Jason’s… He’s… You have fun with him?”

“He’s the best! He knows so much stuff. Did you know that each step a giraffe takes can be up to fifteen feet long? You could never keep up with them! Jason says you’d have to run,” he said, excited.

Elizabeth laughed at his enthusiasm. “No, I-I didn’t know that.”

“Jason knows loads of stuff like that. He said that I could even borrow some of his books on Africa if I wanted. Isn’t that cool?”

“That’s very nice of him.”

There was something eager and childlike coming off of Dominic—a child that hadn’t been allowed to be a child for a very long time. A little bit of innocence had returned to his eyes. Jason had given him that. If she knew nothing else about Jason, that fact alone, would have made her like him.

Elizabeth kicked at the white bank by her feet, bending down and grabbing a fistful of snow. She pressed it together and smoothed it over the second layer of the snowman, flattening out a rough patch.

Her eyes wandered of their own accord back to Dominic. She studied his hauntingly familiar face, his dark eyes. The skin on his face was red and blotchy, his ears a dangerous shade of red. His hair was a little wet from the falling snow and it curled at the nape of his neck. Elizabeth felt something twist inside her. Taking a step closer, she pulled off her hat and quietly, gently, smoothed it onto his head.

He looked up at her, his eyes unreadable.

“You looked cold,” she said, softly, as way of explanation.

His mouth opened, but no words came. He watched her a minute before he dropped his eyes back to the snowman.

Then she remembered the mittens in her pocket. “Hey, uh…I got you something.”

“Yeah?” he asked, skeptical.

“It’s not much. Here,” she said, handing the orange and yellow atrocities to him.

He studied them, one at a time.

“They’re mittens. I knit them myself. Not very exciting, but they’ll keep you warm.” Elizabeth contained her laughter while she looked down at him.

“These are…”

“Ugly?” she said, smiling. “I know. Sorry about that.”

He smirked. “I’ll wear them. I guess.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

Her gaze strayed to the house. She could only just make out a shape against the window. It was enough to remember why she’d come outside to begin with.

“I guess Sonny sent you out here to talk to me.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact.

The kid was perceptive. That innocence she had just seen not a moment ago had floated away like a wayward promise. His eyes were hard again. The child was gone.

Her mouth hung open. “What?”

“It’s so obvious.”

“Okay,” she said and threw the snow she had just collected out of her hands. “I did want to talk to you about Sonny. But only if you want to.”

The silence hung in the air, thick and heavy. She could understand if he didn’t want to talk about it. She wasn’t going to force him.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think…” he said, hesitating.

“What is it?” Her concern was mounting.

“I was just wonderin’ if… Do you think Sonny likes me?”

“Of course he does! What makes you think…?” Elizabeth sighed. Despite how he acted, this was still a child standing in front of her—a highly intelligent and wise child, but a child nonetheless. She had to reassure him the best way she knew how. “Listen, Dominic, before? When Sonny yelled at you, it wasn’t because he was mad at you for breaking the angel…he was afraid for you. He didn’t want you to get hurt. Do you understand?”

Dominic shifted his weight, but refused to look at her. “I guess.”

“He didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, gently placing her hand under his chin and lifting his head so she could see into his eyes. He averted his gaze, but didn’t pull away.

“He didn’t,” he said, nonchalantly, lifting one shoulder in an all-too-casual shrug.

Elizabeth sighed. “It’s okay to admit to being afraid. Everyone is afraid of something.”

“Not Sonny. Not Jason,” he replied, adamant. His lashes lifted and his brown eyes sought out her blue ones, holding them suspended.

“You’d be surprised,” she said, softly. “They might hide it well, but there are things that scare them.”

He weighed this. “But… They’re big and strong…what would they be afraid of?”

She understood now. Understood why he hid his emotions so deeply inside. He thought he had to be so strong. That being a man meant that you couldn’t have any fears and that you had to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Elizabeth stood in awe of this boy; this boy that thought he had to be a man and that being a man meant you were devoid of human emotions.

“Lots of things. Maybe even the same things that you’re afraid of.”

“Really?” This time his eyes were wide and honest.

“Really.”

“He’s really not mad?”

She touched his cheek. “Not even a bit.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Yeah?”

He shifted his weight. “I think Sonny thinks I’m his son.”

The statement threw her. More than threw her. She was at a loss. “What?”

His brows crinkled into a V. “I… I heard one of the guards and I saw that picture you drew. It looks like me.”

Elizabeth felt like she couldn’t get a full breath. “Dominic.”

Shifting, she saw the glimmer of tears hiding in his eyes.

He was shaking his head, determined to stamp out the possibility. “It’s not me, Elizabeth. He wants it to be, but it’s not me.”

She tugged him to her. “Oh, honey.”

____________

It was New Year’s Eve and instead of painting the town red, Elizabeth was settling in for a quiet, low-key night. While Lucky and Trisha were bar-hopping, getting shit-faced, making asses of themselves and, generally, making the most of their youth, she was cozying up on a couch waiting to ring in the new year with a child, an ex-mobster and a handyman. She labeled them simply, but none of the people surrounding her could be defined by such simple terms.

There was a time when the stillness, the calm, would have bothered her. It meant bigger things were about to happen. But her guard wasn’t up. She was just having a nice evening at home.

Only…it wasn’t her home. Not really. Sure, she had a room here. A nice room, actually, with a great view. But that didn’t make it her home. So why did she feel so comfortable? Why did this just feel…right?

It was the first time since coming to Port Charles that she really felt like she belonged somewhere.

Elizabeth watched Jason and Dominic putting together a puzzle. From across the room, she caught Sonny’s eye and she smiled.

At first Elizabeth had been worried about Sonny’s involvement with Dominic. He was such a fragile little boy, even if he tried to make the world believe he was a tough ragamuffin that didn’t need anyone.

She feared Sonny was spending time with him for the wrong reasons, trying to reclaim time with a son long lost. Making sure that was not the case was essential, especially now that Dominic was aware of the similarities he possessed with the other boy.

That might have been what had brought them initially together, but that wasn’t what was keeping them together. She’d realized the good that it had done them both. Sonny’s eyes weren’t as dark. The demons that had always haunted him had started to recede. And Dominic had blossomed.

The Nuns could see it, too. That’s why they’d agreed to this impromptu sleepover. It was against regulations, but there were so many children that needed so much that it was easy for one to get lost in the shuffle. Dominic was a bright boy and no one wanted to see that happen to him. If Sonny could break through his walls, they didn’t want to stop this progress. They knew about Sonny’s background and it took many people to speak on the ex-mobsters behalf before they agreed to look the other way.

Elizabeth’s only worry was that they had all become too attached. Dominic had won them all over in such a short amount of time. Even Jason. Children could do that, though. It was easier to put down your barriers with a child.

But eventually Dominic could be adopted and he would leave behind him a trail of broken hearts. It was true that most children Dominic’s age rarely got adopted and often grew up in the system. But if it ever did happen, it would devastate Sonny. And it wasn’t like Sonny could adopt him. He had a record and no one was going to give custody of an impressionable youth to an ex-mobster. The Nuns were already taking their chances, even allowing him to be around Dominic.

If anything ever happened…

“I don’t think this one’s going to make it past ten o’clock,” Sonny said, ruffling Dominic’s unruly mop of dark hair when he let out a drawn-out yawn.

“I always stay up way past the countdown!” Dominic protested, groggily.

“Well, I’ll be lucky if I make it,” Elizabeth said, emitting a small yawn to prove her point.

Puzzle completed, Jason moved so he was sitting beside her on the couch. She could feel the warmth of him through the thin stretchy layer of her track pants. They weren’t touching except for the inconsequential spot on his thigh where her knee just barely brushed. But the heat of that menial contact made her flush.

The fireplace was crackling, deep orange and yellow flames flickered, casting shadows on the walls.

Elizabeth yawned again and sighed.

Sonny smirked. “Maybe we should start the celebrating now, just in case?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, moving more comfortably onto the couch.

Sonny popped the cork on the Dom Perignon that had been chilling in an ice bath. It made a loud pop and Elizabeth couldn’t help the tension that wound through her body. She watched Sonny pouring the liquid, not spilling a drop.

“Champagne?”

“Please,” she said, taking the offered glass.

Sonny set aside his own glass and passed one to Jason.

“What about me?” Dominic asked, his eyes blinking rapidly to stave off the need to close them.

Sonny took another bottle out of the ice and popped the cork and poured the liquid into a glass.

“Here,” Sonny said, handing him the same champagne flutes the rest of them were using.

Dominic’s eyes widened, impressed.

“It’s sparkling cider,” Sonny whispered to Elizabeth, winking.

She smiled and rolled her eyes.

Sonny raised his glass. “Here’s to…?”

“Happiness,” Elizabeth whispered, surprising herself. But it was exactly what she wanted—just a little happiness, however fleeting.

She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, so she smiled. “Or whatever.”

“No, I like that,” Sonny said, raising his glass again. “It’s simple and perfect. To happiness!”

“To happiness!” They all said in unison.

She watched Dominic on the carpet, fighting the sleep that was pulling at him, trying to fight her own body’s need for sleep that was tugging her farther against the cushions on the couch. Maybe if she just rested her eyes, just for a minute…

____________

Awareness came to her slowly. She was not in her bed and it was not her pillows and mattress that felt so nice and warm against her skin. She blinked a few times, wanting to hold onto the last vestiges of sleep even when they began to evaporate and her mind snapped to attention.

The first thing she noticed was that the fire had died down. The room was not completely cold, but it was not filled with the same all-consuming warmth that had lulled her to sleep. Instead a tepid heat kept her from shivering, it pressed more insistently against her right side.

And that’s when she knew.

His shirt was soft cotton and it felt nice against her cheek. But what was under his shirt, the strong, tightly muscled chest and beating heart, was what made her face flame with embarrassment. She dared not to lift her head. Not only did she refuse to lose the heat, but she also didn’t want to see his eyes.

She didn’t question why she wasn’t nervous, why the thought of falling asleep in his arms seemed so natural and how she wasn’t the least bit frightened. No one had ever made her feel the way Jason did. No one had ever engraved themselves so fully into her life. And she knew, even while she burrowed further against his side, that she should be feeling some type of apprehension. Her guard should have been up. After what had happened to her when she was a teenager and what almost happened a week ago in the park, she should have felt...something.

But it had been Jason that had found her—Jason that had rescued her. Jason, whose arm was wrapped protectively across her shoulders. Jason, whose warmth and scent put her at ease. She knew his eyes. The way he looked at her, like he could see into her soul, all the broken jagged edges. And she knew his heart and she trusted him with hers.

He shifted. The steady rhythm of his heart quickened and she knew that he knew she was awake.

Begrudgingly she sat up and wiped a hand down her face. “What happened?”

“You fell asleep,” he answered simply.

She smiled. “Oh. Sorry.”

“You were tired,” he said, lifting his hand and gently pulling hers away so he could look into her eyes.

His eyes were so blue, even in the dark room. So blue and so kind.

He didn’t remove his hand right away. Instead let it linger on her cheek while his fingers played a soft rhythm against her temple.

She responded to his touch, pressing against his palm and closing her eyes.

“Elizabeth.”

Her eyes snapped open, realizing that voice sounded closer. His hand lingered a second longer and then dropped to his lap.

God, she couldn’t look into his eyes and not blush; she could feel the heat blooming on her cheeks. She turned her head, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Casting her eyes downward, a small smile tugged at her lips. “I didn’t drool on you, did I?”

She could see him smile from the corner of her eye. It made her heart speed up just a little.

“No. I’m drool free.”

She nodded. “Good, good. Because that would be embarrassing…more embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Okay.” She realized their bodies were still touching, his thigh was still pressed against her thigh and although she loved the feeling, she scooted away from him. “Um, so… Where is everyone?”

“Sonny put Dominic to bed hours ago and then turned in for the night.”

She licked her lips out of habit. The house could get so dry and she was without her lip balm. Her eyes quickly darted to Jason’s and she stopped and stared at what she saw there. His eyes had changed, darkened. There was something that looked like desire there, just barely hidden in the depths of his incredible blues. But it couldn’t be.

“What time is it?”

Jason checked his watch. “Just past two.”

She ran a hand through her hair, conscious of the fact that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. In fact, she felt rather exposed. “Okay, now I feel like a complete dork. I’m sorry I kept you from going to sleep.”

“I’m fine,” he said with a convincing half-smile.

Damn him and his little half-smiles. They were going to be the death of her. There was a twinkle in his eyes when hers connected with them and she felt a familiar flutter, low in her belly. Jesus.

She cleared her throat. “You’re being polite, but I’ll get up and let you get some rest.”

She stumbled to her feet.

That was her first mistake. Because the instant her left leg hit the ground a tremendous cramp latched itself inside her calf.

The second mistake was grabbing onto Jason’s outstretched hand to prevent herself from falling.

The third mistake—and this was the biggie—was watching, idly, while Jason crouched down, letting go of her hand and re-anchoring it onto his shoulder, while his fingers inched their way up her pant leg and over the soft skin stretched over her calf muscle. His fingers massaged the area while she hobbled around, ever aware of the warmth radiating from his palm.

“Oooh. It hurts! Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“Stop moving,” he whispered. His voice was thick and husky.

She tried. She did. But the instant she stopped moving, the pain increased and the feel of his skin against hers seeped into her pores, working its way to her brain where she was going to permanently lock it away in case she never got to feel this way again.

“I can’t. It hurts!”

“Show me where?”

Moving. His fingers were moving higher up her leg, leaving spurs of awareness. His hands were so strong and so warm. And his fingertips! God! His fingertips danced against her skin, teasing her and taunting her and driving her insane.

Reaching down, she sought out her painful calf, almost unable to sort out the pleasure from the pain. Their hands bumped. Her fingers, unwittingly twined with his, sliding over her calf in soothing strokes.

Oh, God.

She pulled her hand back.

She felt something intense coiling inside of her. And, oddly, the pervading thought in her head was: thank God I shaved my legs!

Pushing lightly on his shoulders, she got him to look at her.

“I think I’m okay now,” she said, attempting to step away. His hand was still wrapped around her leg, his fingers working magic on the knot.

He looked skeptical.

“Really,” she assured him.

The moment he released her, she felt the loss. Something inside of her tore. She wanted to reach out, to take his hand, to say something, anything, about what she was feeling, but the words wouldn’t come to her.

She wasn’t sure what he was thinking or even how he was feeling. It was all so new. Relationships weren’t her thing. And she wasn’t even sure if that was what she and Jason had.

As afraid as she had been that night, and even before then, maybe since she was fifteen, something had definitely shifted when she met Jason. Even that first day, with his face stoic and his chest exposed, she had felt something pull tight inside of herself, something she hadn’t felt in so long she forgot that she could. She couldn’t deny her attraction to Jason. Couldn’t deny that after years of not wanting to be touched by a man, the thought of Jason touching her… It actually made her physically ache.

But it was too soon. She wasn’t ready to push the boundaries.

God, she was such a mess!

Jason stood, his hands dropping to his sides.

Elizabeth tried to brush past him.

He caught her arm at the crook of her elbow and turned her around. “You’re limping.”

She rolled her eyes. “I always walk like this.”

He gave her a stern look.

“Fine. But I’m okay. I-I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“What?!”

No. No way! There was no way she was going to let him carry her.

He folded his arms across his chest and she couldn’t help admiring the way his shirt pulled tight around his biceps.

“Does it hurt to walk on?”

“Yes. No. Maybe,” she faltered, fumbling for the right answer—the answer that would allow her to get upstairs on her own volition. “Regardless, you don’t need to carry me.”

“Humor me?”

With a tentative step, she felt the tightness in her leg. Her eyes traveled to the stairs and then back to Jason. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she nodded. “Okay.”

His arm wrapped around her knees, the other bracing her back, swooping her easily into his arms.

Their eyes locked.

She saw his head shift before she felt his breath fanning over her cheek.

She focused on his mouth—on the shape of it. And then her eyes lingered on his tongue when it darted out to moisten his lips.

Her eyes started to close.

And then her stomach growled.

She slapped her hand over her mouth. Talk about mood-killer. “Sorry. My stomach. I don’t know what’s—”

“You haven’t been eating.”

“I have.”

“No, you haven’t,” he said, firmly.

She blew out a stream of air. “Why is everyone suddenly so concerned with my weight?”

He ignored her question, instead focusing on the rumbling of her stomach. “Would you let me make you something?”

She hesitated. He was right. She hadn’t been eating. Nothing seemed to taste right. Not Sonny’s gourmet meals or extravagant desserts, not even the cheeseburger from Kelly’s Trisha had shoved at her the other day.

“I…” Her stomach rumbled again. “Yes.”

“Okay,” he said. His face relaxed. Relief was etched in the lines around his eyes.

She wondered if he’d been anticipating an argument.

Expecting him to take her into the kitchen, she was surprised when instead he turned toward the stairwell.

He took the stairs slowly, feeling his way in the dark.

Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, allowing herself to hold onto the moment just for a second when her room came into view.

He deposited her in the middle of the bed. The instant he let go, she missed his warmth but her face remained impassive.

“I’ll be back with food.”

It sounded like a command. Chills ran up her spine. All she could do was nod and watch him walk away.

_____

Jason walked down the corridor, making a detour into his own room. Opening the desk drawer, he pulled out the handkerchief he’d been storing there for much too long. Placing it in his pocket, he continued on out of the room and down the stairs into the kitchen.

____

Elizabeth settled into the bed, not bothering to change. The pants she had on had practically become pajamas. She pulled her sweater over her head and threw it across the room, satisfied when it landed on the chair in the corner. The thin white long-sleeved t-shirt she wore underneath would be fine to sleep in.

Fidgeting on the bed, she tucked a pillow behind her back and crossed her legs Indian-style in front of her.

It seemed Jason had only been gone a few minutes when the door opened and he came in carrying a tray of food. The clock told her otherwise. Nearly twenty minutes had passed.

“Grilled cheese, okay?” he said, gesturing to the plate.

Elizabeth watched him set it down in front of her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Thank you.”

She took her first real look at the tray sitting on top of the deep purple comforter Sonny had insisted on buying her the other day. He said the room needed something and the white duvet just wasn’t cutting it. Fighting him only made him throw in a new set of decorative pillows.

There was a grill cheese sandwich, a glass of ice water and a mug of hot chocolate. Focusing on the hot chocolate, she noticed Jason had gotten it just right. Chocolate syrup, sprinkles and she didn’t doubt three packets split two ways.

“Jason.”

Jason scratched behind his ear, his eyes not quite meeting hers. “Sorry, I’m not… Sonny’s better at this.”

She smiled. She didn’t care if it was a four course meal or bread and water. It was the fact that he knew what her favorite drink was that had a lump forming in her throat.

“It looks good,” she said and it did. Gingerly she reached out and took half of the sandwich. He’d used the nice whole wheat bread Sonny baked from scratch that she had always favored. There was no processed cheese. Sonny refused to have it in his fridge. Instead inside the bread there was a combination of Fontina, mozzarella and just the barest hint of the spicy havarti imported from Denmark she had mentioned once she liked. Her stomach rumbled and her mouth watered.

“Will you stay and, you know…keep me company while I eat?”

Jason didn’t move.

She shook her head. “No. You know what? You don’t have to. You’re probably tired and it’s not fair of me to ask—”

“Sure.”

Restraining the smile working its way onto her face was impossible. She gestured to the bottom of the bed.

He looked at the spot and then around the room. His eyes landed on the chair, before falling back on the place her hand still rested.

“I won’t bite,” she teased.

He nodded and took a seat, keeping one foot on the ground.

She ate in silence and she watched Jason.

His eyes were focused on the boxes of art supplies she still hadn’t put away. The intensity in his eyes made her uncomfortable and left her feeling a little guilty. She hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in over a week and her sketchpad was collecting dust.

“That was really good,” she said, after swallowing the last bite. “Thank you, Jason.”

It was better than good. In fact, it was the best grilled cheese and hot chocolate she’d ever had.

His voice broke through the quiet. It was low and scratchy. “Promise me you won’t do this again.”

”Do what?”

“Not eat.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, her defenses were officially up. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I just couldn’t.”

“I know,” he said. “But it’s not good for you. I… I worry about you.” His voice was melodic, spinning a song and crashing down her walls.

She uncrossed her arms. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I promise.”

Jason took the tray and set it on the mahogany nightstand. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the handkerchief, handing it to her. “Here.”

“Wha—?” She opened the handkerchief and felt the tears prick her eyes.

“I thought you might want them back.” There was something anxious in his voice, like he wasn’t sure of himself.

Elizabeth looked down at her perfect glass doves. Her fingers traced the fine details. With everything that had happened, she hadn’t thought to ask for them.

“I wasn’t sure if…” His voice hitched. “I hope you still—”

“Yes. I love them.”

He swallowed thickly. “I’m glad.”

Elizabeth yawned, stretching. Sleep was beckoning her. Pulling down the blanket on her bed, she slipped under the sheet and settled against the pillows.

Jason could only watch.

“Jason,” she said, waiting until he looked at her. “Thank you. For the food. For these,” she said, gesturing to her glass doves that she had yet to let go of, “For… For everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He stepped forward, unsure.

A moment passed in silence.

Elizabeth felt the war within her own heart. She bit her lip and waited.

Decidedly, he claimed another step. Bending down, he gently laid a kiss just above her eyebrow. “Goodnight, Elizabeth.”

“’Night.”

Picking up the tray with one hand, he moved to the door. The lights flickered out.

Elizabeth could just barely see him silhouetted in her doorway. “Jason?”

“Yeah?” he said, turning. He strained his eyes in the dark.

She smiled. “Happy New Years.”

“Happy New Year.”

The bruises were fading little by little each day. Her skin, once a violent purple, had mellowed into a soft yellowy-blue. The less the bruises showed on the outside, the more she healed on the inside. The anger has receded. But it was still there. It was still very much a part of her.

Elizabeth knew she was more or less wallowing in self-pity. Yes, she was being petulant, but with good reason. She realized, however, that getting depressed wasn’t going to solve anything. So when Jason got the bright idea to teach her self-defense she took him up on his offer. After all, what else was she going to do? Crawl up into a ball and give up? No way. That wasn’t her style.

______

Jason didn’t like seeing Elizabeth moping around the house, looking so lost. She had barely been out of the house and stuck pretty close when she did go outside.

Things were weird between them. Any of the closeness they had at the Christmas party had slowly been devoured by awkwardness. And, okay, New Years had been unexpected, but just because she fell asleep against him didn’t mean that anything was better. So maybe she trusted him…a little. She still walked around like a skittish mouse.

Every time he thought he’d gotten past her barriers, something came between them. It was like they were doing a different kind of dance. One step forward, two steps back.

Elizabeth spent most of her time playing with Dominic or talking to Sonny. She certainly wasn’t spending time with him.

So, it was only fair that it took him so long to clue into the fact that Elizabeth was not doing well at all. Despite what she said, he saw it in her eyes and in her actions. It was only two days ago when he noticed how she tensed whenever one of the guards came into a room. She instantly looked regretful when she did so.

There was a change in her. She didn't smile as much and her laughter was never as bright. Jason decided they needed to do something about it before it got worse...before her walls were too high and she stopped letting him in completely.

The only thing he could think of was teaching her self-defense. He hadn’t expected her to agree.

Elizabeth followed closely behind Jason down a flight of stairs into the finished basement. Large cross beams stood proud in various spots around the pseudo gym, holding up the frame of the grand house. Blue mats, that reminded her of gymnastics class, lined the floor. And there, in the middle of all the weights, elliptical machine and treadmill, was a red heavy bag. A very well-used heavy bag.

Elizabeth crept up beside the bag. She laughed internally at the slashes of duct tape used to keep it together. Men.

“Sooo…where do we start?” She gave the offending bag a light push, surprising herself when it swung back at her, narrowly missing.

“You, uh, you should probably stretch first.”

“Oh, okay.”

Elizabeth felt silly. Working out wasn’t exactly something she did on a regular basis. Because she didn’t own a car, she walked enough to keep herself trim and fit and she’d always had a high metabolism.

From the corner of her eye she watched Jason. They were both wearing cotton sweats. She’d been wearing sweats for days. They were comfortable. But they’d started to become a uniform—shapeless and bland. It hadn’t bothered her until now.

Jason stretched silently, warming up his muscles. She watched them flex and strain with each practiced movement.

It took her a solid minute to realize she was staring. She cleared her throat. “So, that girl--”

Jason stopped, facing her. “What girl?”

She’d been waiting for the right opportunity to bring this up, but there never seemed to be a good time. Worst of all, she just couldn’t get the image out of her head. Jason, her Jason, and some blonde woman engaged in an intense lip-lock. It played over and over in her head like those lame filmstrips in seventh grade, the ones where the audio and visual were never in sync. Because she knew what she saw, but everything around her was garbled and it just didn’t fit with the man she had come to care so much for. It didn’t make sense.

“Right, well. I guess she was more of a woman…at least more than…” She looked down at herself, her eyes drifting over her flat stomach and small breasts. God, it was no wonder. “Never mind. That’s not the point. The point is that, the woman...? You know, the, uh, the one that you…kissed. I just wanted to say--”

“Elizabeth?” His voice sounded very loud in the large space. It echoed off the walls.

“Yes?”

Jason made sure to look her in the eye. “She kissed me.”

Her shoulders slumped just a little. He’d confirmed it really had happened. She hadn’t just made it up in her head. “Okay. And?”

“And nothing.”

“No, but Jason. I’m just saying that it’s okay. That what we… Well, that is, the kiss that happened between us--”

“Kisses.”

“Huh?”

“Plural. There were two.” There was a challenge in his eyes—a silent flash begging her to test him.

She refused to rise to the occasion.

“Oh, yeah, well, I know. But I’m just saying that if that woman… Well, if she is more your type…” She groaned. This was getting her nowhere. If she could just spit it out… Just end this torture! Then they could move on or start over…or something! Things had been so much easier when he didn’t talk!

“Not saying that you have a type. I don’t even have any idea, really. Because you’ve only just started communicating with words and it’s not like I’ve had time to really ask you yet. Not that I would ask. And even if I did, it really isn’t any of my business. I just wanted to say… Well, I just don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. I mean, it was just a kiss.”

He smiled crookedly. “Two.”

Elizabeth’s throat felt tight and it hurt when she tried to swallow. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I meant. Two.”

He could lie to her. It would make things easier. She might even hate him. He could tell her that all along there had been someone else. That what they had didn’t matter. But he’d never been a good liar. And he couldn’t do that to either of them. He couldn’t make what they shared into something cheap and superficial, because it went so much deeper.

Elizabeth stood, rooted to the same spot, watching Jason pull out boxing gloves and a roll of thick white tape from the duffle bag in the corner of the room.

He turned to her, his eyes seeking hers, moving slowly until he was less than a foot away. “Now, are you ready to do this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Although, I don't really see how hitting some stupid bag hanging from the ceiling is going to empower me. Watch out bad guys because Elizabeth Webber is skilled in the great art of hitting things that are on strings! Oh, look out! Wayward Piñatas? Chandeliers? Puh-lease, they are no match for me! Hey, what else hangs from the ceiling?" Elizabeth gabbed sarcastically, holding out her fists like she was a force to be reckoned with.

“Elizabeth.” He sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. All she needed was one minute, one second of clarity where she broke free of the bonds these awful men had put on her. He sort of hoped it would be here.

She turned her eyes from Jason. "I’m sorry. Seriously, Jason, this is a waste of time.”

Jason had been respecting her space, never getting too close, never touching her for too long, but he took a step forward, took a chance, and put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m not going to force you to do this, but…would you give it a chance?”

“What’s the point?”

He had to smile. She didn’t ask the question because she was giving up or giving in. She said it because Elizabeth liked to be defiant sometimes. She liked to be a bit of a rebel. It was one of the first things he’d noticed about her. To see that part of her personality shine through made him think that they were taking a step in the right direction.

"Hey,” he said, lifting his hand to her face and tilting her chin until she looked him in the eye, “you and I both know you still don't feel safe and this is the only way I can think of to give you back some power," Jason rationalized.

“Fine, fine. Whatever. But this better not mess up my manicure.”

Jason smiled.

And then the corners of her lips curled and she was smiling too. “I’m just saying. Trisha would kill me. I get enough flack for biting them sometimes.”

They were looking into each other’s eyes, holding their breaths, seeing who would look away first.

Jason caved.

There was something so intense lurking behind her deep blue eyes. She looked at him in a way no one else had before. Sometimes he felt that he really wasn’t worth that kind of devotion.

“Here, um, give me your hands,” Jason said, shyly.

It amazed him the way she rested her delicate hands on top of his own. The way she trusted him always amazed him. The way he trusted her amazed him more.

Elizabeth could feel her heart speed up. His fingers were warm against her palm where he positioned the tape and began to roll it over her delicate skin.

He ripped the last piece of tape with his teeth, securing it over her knuckles. Patting down the tape, he made sure it was secure. “Okay, flex your fingers.”

”Like this?” she asked, wiggling her fingers and making fists.

“Too tight?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” he said, grabbing the red gloves from the floor and holding them open for her. “Push your hand into this.”

Elizabeth did as requested, first with her right hand and then her left. “Now what?”

“Get use to the feel of those. Punch the bag a little.”

“Like this?” She tapped the heavy bag with the side of her fists, admittedly not the most ferocious punch there ever was.

“A little harder. You won’t break it.”

“Okay,” she said, focusing on the bag and striking.

She pulled her hand back and shook out her wrist.

“Better, but you’re going to break a bone like that. Here,” he said, raising his fists and demonstrating. Jason hit the bag first with his right hand, a quick jab that made it swing back and forth, and then followed up with his left, not daunted by the motion of the bag.

“Okay, that was very macho,” she teased.

Jason bowed his head and Elizabeth smirked at the blush covering his cheeks.

Elizabeth stepped up close to the bag, turning her fist like she’d watched Jason do and took a swing at the bag. It was harder than she’d anticipated, and the force of the blow combined with the swinging heavy bag surging toward her knocked her on her butt.

Jason crouched down next to her. He offered his hand. He had the grace not to smile.

“Don’t,” she said, accepting his hand and getting back up on her feet.

“The first thing you should remember is to never underestimate your attacker.”

“This is so humiliating! I can’t even fight a stupid bag hanging from the ceiling.”

There was humor in her tone, but Jason recognized the urgency underneath.

“Hey, the second thing to remember is that there is no fair when you’re fighting for your life. The goal is always to get away. That’s it. What happened to you…? It wasn’t fair, Elizabeth. You have to count on cowards.”

“Jason.”

He was bringing things up that she didn’t want to talk about. Not again.

"Words have power, Elizabeth, but so does silence. Don't let this eat you up. Don't give it the power to. If you need to vent, I want you to.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Fine, but you’re a guy and guys just don’t get it.”

“Try me.”

She threw the gloves to the floor, pulling at the tape. It felt constricting, like her skin couldn’t breathe. Like she couldn’t breathe.

“Do you know what it’s like to base your entire life on whether or not you're going to be safe at night? I used to do my laundry during the day because I was afraid to go out past seven. Afraid of the things I couldn't see.

“When I was…r-raped, I didn’t deal with it the right way. I guess I’m starting to realize that I didn’t really deal with it at all. I thought I was over it, but now I know… I'll never get over it, simply because I'm a woman. And as a woman there are certain things I can’t change. I can't defend myself against a man, Jason. No matter how hard I try to fight him off, I'll never be able to. And it doesn't matter how many self-defense classes I take or whether I carry pepper spray or not, because I'm always going to be afraid. That fear doesn't go away.

“It lives inside me. It consumed me for a long time. I won’t lie about that. I mean, it’s like a force of its own. And I never wanted to be in that place again, I never wanted to give that fear power again. But it’s so easy to fall back into old patterns, to hide. I promised myself I would never be that girl again. I vowed that I would be a strong person. That it wouldn’t rule my life or my decisions and it hasn’t for a long time. I moved on. I want to be able to do that again. But right now... I don't know how to."

"Do you trust me, Elizabeth?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Elizabeth hesitated and then averted her eyes. How was she supposed to tell him that he was one of the only people she had ever trusted and trust did not come easy in her life? The best way, the only way, was to simply tell the truth.

"Yes. I probably trust you more than I've trusted anyone in a long time. Satisfied?" She quirked her own brows and smiled ruefully.

"No. This isn't supposed to feel like I'm making you do something you don't want to. Why don't we try this another time?"

He grabbed his duffel bag and swung it over his shoulder with every intention of leaving her standing on the gym floor by herself. Or so he was leading her to believe.

"So, that's it? You're just going to give up on me?"

Her eyes were soft when she looked at him and he could feel his heart swell. He threw the bag back on the ground and walked toward her, taking her hands in his.

"Elizabeth, I'm not giving up on you. All I want is for you to be okay again. However long it takes. I want you to be the girl who kicked me in the groin because you thought I was trying to hurt you. I want to see that light in your eyes when you draw or paint. I don't want you to hurt anymore."

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I don’t want you sorry.” He moved one of his hands and captured a curly lock that had fallen out of place. He rubbed the hair between his fingers and then manipulated it back into place. His hand settled on her cheek and his thumb lightly traced her jaw, softly stroking it. "I want you to be okay, but it doesn’t have to be today."

"I am okay," she said weakly, even though she could feel the tears gathering in her eyes.

Without any more talking, he took her in his arms and held her close. "You're so brave," he soothed, running his fingers through her hair.

"You call this brave?" she mumbled into his chest.

"Yeah, I do. I never have the right words, Elizabeth. I'm not articulate and I don't ever think I could really tell you how you make me feel. But I want you to know I would rather die than let anything bad happen to you."

Elizabeth pulled back, half sniffling and half laughing. "You can't use a word like articulate and expect your argument to be very strong, Jason."

Jason gave that one to her. "Fine, but I'm still not good with words."

"I don't need words. We-we didn't have them before."

Their eyes locked, understanding passing between them.

“Okay. Let’s try something different.”

This time Jason reached for a baseball bat.

“A bat will give you distance. Aim for the knees. As soon as he’s down, you run,” he said.

“Jason, no offence, but it’s not like I carry a bat around with me.”

“I know. But I just want you to start thinking about using the objects around you and if you have nothing around you…” he took her hand in his, touching her long fingers and tapping her nails. “Use these. Trisha will get over it.”

Elizabeth smiled despite herself. “What else?”

“You could use some work on your punching skills.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Should I get the gloves?”

“No, just use your fists.”

“Okay. On what? The bag again?”

“No. On me.”

Elizabeth blinked, surprised. “What?! Did you…?”

“Yes. Here,” he said, raising his hand in front of himself, palm side flat. “Hit it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. What if I do?” she said, concerned.

“That’s good. It means you can protect yourself.”

“Jason,” she pleaded.

“You said you trusted me, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it.”

Elizabeth mustered some energy and courage and aimed for Jason’s hand. She hit him dead centre and caused a loud smacking sound.

“Good. Again.”

She did it again, harder this time.

“Again. Get angry.”

Elizabeth pulled her hand back, her eyes blurring and slammed her fist into his palm.

“Better. Now do it again.”

She hit him again and again and again, switching hands and moving around the room, following his movements until there was sweat dripping down her back and seeping into her eyes.

She’d felt the tears rolling down her face, but she didn’t acknowledge them until this second. Embarrassed, she swiped at them with her sore fingers.

Jason shook out his hands and smiled down at her.

“Did I hurt you?” Elizabeth said, grabbing his hand and inspecting it.

He shook his head. “No. Are-are you okay?”

“I didn’t think this would help… It did. I feel…”

“Alive?”

Her eyes sparkled.

“Yeah. Like I’m finally coming out of some horrible dream… How did you know that’s what I needed?”

He shrugged. “It always helps me.”

“I guess we’re a lot alike then,” she said, smiling. “Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope-I hope you know how much this means to me. How much you mean to me.”

He took a small step forward and then another one when she didn’t move or flinch away.

Claiming two more steps before she realized he was moving, he was already close enough to reach out his hand.

His fingers stopped shaking when they finally landed on her cheek, his thumb creating a pattern while it stroked over the soft skin.

She was watching it happen. Watching and feeling it and not minding it at all. In fact, she claimed a step. Just one. But it brought them just that much closer. So close she could feel his breath on her forehead, hot and uneven.

“J-Jason?” She didn’t know what she was asking. Or why she’d said his name at all.

His mouth found hers, his lips warm and soft and not demanding. It was quick. Barely even a kiss, just a light breeze of one. Like a whisper from his skin to hers.

Jason stepped back. He looked apologetic, but not remorseful.

“Should I—should I not have done that?”

Elizabeth could barely make words form. She cleared her throat and concentrated. “No. No, I… I’m glad you’re not afraid to.”