Fast Forward In Time - Chapter 1

At "Home": April 19th, 2007
Madrid

Every morning when Lucky woke up Elizabeth was the first light he saw. This morning her luminance was especiallybright. The depth of her eyes, the dance of her smile, and the giftof her love was still consuming his soul. She was the only reason he was surviving. Hoping and praying that one-day he would see her,hold her, and breathe her in again. He can still remember everythingabout them together like it was yesterday. Their laughter, their tears, and their love.

Some would say it was because he hadn't had anything resembling a life since this very day eight years ago. That was when he was stolen from her. They were sixteen then, now they are twenty-four, and he knows that he still remembers everything because she is the very air he breathes. She was when they were together, she has been since they've been apart, and she always will be. Forever.

He had hardened since that night. His heart, his mind, as well as his body. He spends his days reading to escape, working out as a release for his anger, and writing. His writing, which is his real solace, is where he has relinquished the pain and sadness he feels from being kept from his life, from Elizabeth, for so long. He writes about the things that were meant to happen but haven't. They're wedding, their home, and their babies. Their future. But more than that, more than anything, he writes about his undying love for her. At first he thought the memories would fade, the weightlessness he felt in his heart when he thought of her would eventually disappear. He needn't have worried. It's still there. Maybe even more so because of the pain of missing her so much. When the ache in his soul makes him feel as though he could lose his breath, he closes his eyes and softly sings the song he wrote for her all those years ago. He gets lost in the memories.

Elizabeth
As you kneel beside your bed tonight
Keep a little prayer for me insight
Know that I will be there when you call
Know that I will catch you if you should fall
Elizabeth
Go to sleep
I wanna watch you breath
I wanna feel GODs' peace
All I want is this
Elizabeth

Port Charles

Elizabeth didn't know how many times she had played that song in the past eight years. For months after Luckys' "death" she couldn't bring herself to listen to the soft soulful sound of his voice. It was much too painful. Now, after all these years, it is the escape she needs from her pain. It transports her back to the one time in her life when she was whole. When the terror from a cold, horrible, black night had begun to change to a beautiful sunrise on a new summer day. Since the first time she could listen to his voice after his death, she has played the tape constantly. So much so that the continuous playing rewinding and replaying again had caused his tender words and the slow guitar to start to fade. She made a copy and only listens to that one. The original is in a safe place along with all the gifts he had given her, all the pictures they had taken together, and all the evidence of the plans they had made for their future. They are stored in a wooden box that she painted to look like the boxcar on one of her many restless nights. She keeps it hidden under her bed. When she felt the need to literally touch her memories, she locked her bedroom door, slid under the covers, and gently placed their life in front of her on her bed. There is obvious evidence on the items of all the times she has done this. The only thing she still carries with her all the time is the ring he gave her for Christmas in 1998. That was when he had told her he loved her for the first time. She wears it on a long gold chain around her neck concealed beneath her clothes. She hides everything. She knows what people would think and say if they knew she was still holding on so tight. Luckys' little sister, Lu-Lu, is the only other living soul who knows of the boxes' existence. She once asked Elizabeth what Lucky was like when it was just the two of them. She had shown Lu-Lu the box and its precious contents. All the while telling her stories about the most memorable part of her life. Lu-Lu had then made a promise to Elizabeth to keep it their little secret.

She couldn't bring herself to let go of him. That would be like trying to breathe without oxygen, trying to think without the use of her mind. Letting go of Lucky would be letting go of life. There are times when even if she isn't consciously thinking of him he is still there. She can still feel his presence in the world and her life. She knows he's still alive, trapped somewhere, only able to reach her through his thoughts and his dreams. She believes this with no regard for what anyone else says. She can't help it. Sometimes but rarely, her mind will believe, like everyone else, he is never coming back. Her heart, on the other hand, always refuses to let go of her dream that he will come home. Even if she wanted to move on she couldn't. How could she when she can still feel his arms around her, still taste the chocolate from his soft, sweet kisses, still feel the beating of his heart in his chest beneath the palm of her hand. It's all so real, so powerful, and so vivid. Surely, if her life were meant to be lived with someone else, the memories would have become more distant by now. They would be nothing more than loving little afterthoughts that she shared with the family and friends that knew him. Instead, they are still ruling her heart, taking over her dreams, and making her feel as though she could both fly and drown all at the same time. Most days and nights the memories are beautiful and euphoric, freeing her from her emotional turmoil. But sometimes, especially on this night, they are heartbreaking. On this night, eight long and lonely years ago, her dreams, her heart, and her faith in together forever, were shattered into a million tiny pieces that only her own death, or the return of Lucky himself can mend.

Madrid

Every year on this dreaded day, Lucky is overcome with this feeling that Elizabeths' soul is screaming out to him, begging him to return home to her. Any other time when he can feel her calling for him, it is with so much love that it isn't pain but anticipation he is filled with. But on this day it is with so much sorrow and heartache that his head throbs and his heart feels as if it is being torn from his body. It is the ultimate torture to know that she is hurting so badly and that his not being there is the reason. He has to remind himself that this is the only way he can guarantee her safety. Any other day there is no doubt that Elizabeths' staying alive is what is important. More important than both of their suffering. He could not go on living at all if she were physically harmed because of his selfish need to be with her. Even Valentines' Day, the anniversary of Elizabeths' rape, doesn't compare to today. Faison gives him proof that she is still alive through images on a television screen. He does this often enough to reassure Lucky that he hasn't touched her and just rare enough to tease him of their separation. He had only let him hear her voice every once in a while and the last time he did, Lucky had been so overwhelmed with joy, shedding tears and softly laughing, that Faison had decided for added torture he would never let him hear her again. He had all of the videos captioned so that Lucky knew what was being said. It has been almost four years since he has heard his name pass her lips. He is secretly waiting for the day when he can not only hear her say it over and over, but feel her softly breathe it on his own mouth. Just seeing her alive, even without the sound of her voice, made it all worth while. To catch a glimpse of her made all the pain diminish for those few precious moments. He had noticed that her laugh isn't as hearty as it was, and her eyes aren't as expressive as they use to be, but he had also noticed how she has become even more beautiful as a woman than she was as a girl. That even though the shine from her eyes and her smile have shadowed, he, and only he, could see that somewhere deep inside of her she knew he was still alive. She could feel him as he can feel her. He had tried to say good-bye once to everything they had shared because he wanted her to be happy, but as he had watched her over the years he knew she couldn't because she knew he was still alive. He vowed then to never let go. They know that they will be together again.

Port Charles

Elizabeth didn't go to New York to be an artist. She didn't study and live in the quaint, tiny apartment that they had chosen together. She couldn't. Those were the plans her and Lucky had made. Instead she had attended Port Charles University for an advanced four-year course in graphic design. She had spent those four years going to classes and learning, she had thrown herself into her studies. She never went to parties or out on dates like everyone else did, but she had no regrets. She had made good friends and she still hangs out with them on occasion. She knew they thought she was a little "geeky" because of her desire to do well, but she didn't care. She felt like she owed it to herself and Lucky to do the best she could. She graduated with honors at the top of her class and after she had received her diploma and thrown her graduation cap she knew that Lucky was proud of her. Lucy Coe, the CEO of ‘JAX Cosmetics', had approached her that summer and asked her to join the design team of the company. She accepted and has been working there since the 3 RD of August 2003. She loves her job. She lives off of it when she is not living off of her memories of Lucky. Most of her work involves designs for new ad campaigns in every area of the company that Lucy has expanded it to. She is constantly asking Elizabeth to come up with designs of her own, outside of the team, and has sent her on assignments all over the world in search of new ideas. She tells her it is because she is the best, but they both know that Lucy does this to distract her and help her escape her loneliness. Although anyone who knows Elizabeth can see that she is still in pain, they rarely come out and talk about it anymore. She has made it very clear to all of them that she is fine and that she will live her life the way she wants to, even if it is alone. So, she goes on the assignments and she pretends to be doing great. She does it so that no one will fuss over her. What none of them seem to realize is that no matter what she is doing and where she is she isn't alone, Lucky is always there. What they don't understand is that he has to be. The strength that he gave her, the courage she found because of him, and the love he surrounded her with is what is keeping her alive.

Lucky doesn't know that she only paints for herself in private and that they are all paintings of things that remind her of him. He doesn't know that whenever she is awake and sees her future she is always alone knowing full well that there isn't a man on earth who could live with his ghost hovering around them. But that when she is asleep and dreaming of her future he is always there loving her and the family they've made. He doesn't know that when she pictures her first experience with making love, even if she deliberately starts off thinking of some sexy movie star, Luckys' face always ends up being the one she sees floating above her and lying beneath her. His hands are the ones softly exploring her skin, his lips are the ones dancing with hers, and it is always his body that gently unites with hers. She still can't imagine being that open, that intimate, with anyone other than him. She can't imagine any other man but Lucky making her feel as alive as she knew he would have had he had the chance. If only he had had the chance.

Madrid

On his 18th birthday, for a sick joke, Faison brought a prostitute to him. He said that he felt guilty for making Lucky miss out on the pleasure of sex, and that it was only right for him to become a real man with the help of a woman who knew what she was doing. "She can't speak a word of english so don't even think of trying to get word to someone that you're still alive.", he had said Lucky had known that they would be watched the whole time anyway. He never even looked her way. She had tried really hard to get some response from him, dancing and stripping in front of him, but Lucky couldn't have been bothered. If he couldn't give himself to Elizabeth he wouldn't give himself to anyone. He saw it that way then and still sees it that way today. Faison had reacted to his actions with laughter, and told him he was weak and destined to die a virgin. Lucky had simply smiled at him, not giving a damn what he thought. Dying without ever having sex is fine by him, and dying without ever making love to Elizabeth is something he won't let himself think about. Besides, he has made love to her. In his mind. At first he didn't think of her that way. Maybe it was because their love was so pure, and he hadn't ever imagined he would be away from her for so long. But as his mind had grown-up, and his body had matured, he found himself unable to stop thinking of her as a woman, the only woman he wanted to lose himself in. He would wonder what she looked like beneath her clothes, felt like beneath his hands, what her skin tasted like, smelled like. Over the years he had come to know as much as he possibly could through his thoughts and his dreams. At first it was loving, albeit awkward. Now, it's totally uninhibited and wildly passionate. So much so that at times he has to stop thinking about it. He used to feel guilty for the thoughts he was having, they would almost scare him. But he has stopped feeling that way about something that reminds him he is still alive. He knows that when they are reunited they'll be back to square one and that's just fine. He would wait forever for her.

Port Charles

Late at night on April 19th is the only time she will come to visit the grave. She does this every year and she does it alone. She has to. Otherwise she fears that she will be seen and the aching that she has tried so hard to keep camouflaged by the masks she wears will be discovered.

As she kneels down next to the tombstone with the angel on it and gently trails her fingers across his name, the horror of that night comes rushing back. Seeing the garage engulfed in flames, being told she didn't want to see the body because it was so badly burned. It has never been his grave or his body to her because it still seems so surreal. She can feel the air being sucked from her lungs and the tears streaming down her face. Her mouth is hanging slightly open, her eyes are staring straight ahead, and her heart is breaking. Her body is waiting and ready for the inevitable sobs that will shake her to her core. And then they come. She never says a word, never makes a sound. She places her hands on her face the second they begin to shake and she closes her eyes as her head begins to spin. It is the same thing every year, but it still feels so fresh, so raw. This is one of those rare times when she loses hope that he is ever coming home.

Madrid

Lucky can feel his chest begin to tighten and his head begin to throb. He knows what will come. He feels it down to his soul. He can almost see her kneeling at his empty grave. His own tears are flowing freely now. He wraps his arms around himself and crouches in the corner of his room with his back to the cameras he knows are watching him. He waits for the pain to begin. In his mind he is picturing them the way he so vividly remembers, willing her to do the same. Begging her to feel him near and to know that he still loves her the way he did before he "died".

‘Elizabeth, PLEASE feel me, hear me, see me.' He is chanting this in his mind over and over as the pain is building. Then, just as his head feels as if it will explode and his heart is pounding in his ears, about to break free from his chest, it stops almost as suddenly as it started. His breathing returns to normal as he wipes the tears from his face. He takes a few deep breaths, stands up straight and runs his hands through his hair. It's over for another year.

Port Charles

As she is walking up her front steps, Elizabeth stops to glance up at the sky and notices how bright the stars are. Since her Gram retired last summer and left her the house she has gotten use to coming home and being alone. She hadn't realized how much she would appreciate it until now. She didn't want to talk, or see anyone. All she wanted to do was go to sleep. She can always feel him so close on this night. She can feel his arms holding her so tight protecting her, loving her. She misses him so much, needs him so completely.

As she heads into her house, up the stairs, and into the same room she slept in as a girl, she thinks only of Lucky. She doesn't pull out the box and surf through the cherished memories tonight. Instead, she takes off her clothes, and wearing only Luckys' old sweater, climbs into bed. She wraps her arms around herself, takes a few deep breaths, and closes her eyes. It's over for another year.