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Lerdo123
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Graphic Design Goddess!

Posts: 35
(3/12/04 10:43 am)
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Becoming: Chapter 2
A/N: A few things you should know: Elizabeth and Ric didn’t remarry, and while she did sleep with Zander, she isn’t pregnant. Sonny and Carly are still together, and Morgan has been born. Any questions or comments, please let me know. :) And the previous chapter is HERE.


Chapter 2



Jason sighed and looked out over the water, gingerly stretching his fingers. His knuckles stung and throbbed from the beating he’d just given Alcazar, but the pain didn’t bother him. Instead, it was a welcome reminder that he was alive. He spent much of his days walking around in a thick fog that very little seemed to penetrate. There would be no joyous reconciliation for him and Courtney; their divorce was finalized several months before. It never would have worked anyway. She couldn’t handle his life, couldn’t be happy with who he was. During the course of their relationship, she often treated him as if he were a lump of wet clay just waiting to be sculpted into whatever form she liked best. Ironic, considering that Elizabeth, not Courtney, was an artist. But he’d never felt that way with Elizabeth. He’d wanted to protect her, shield her from the rough edges of his life, but she had never made him feel like he wasn’t good enough just as he was.

His grandmother had had that knack for truly accepting people, too, but she was gone now. He’d gone to the funeral yesterday and even gone back to the Quartermaine mansion afterward. But he’d felt uncomfortable. The Quartermaines were crazy; everyone knew that. Still, there was love there too. Even he could see it. Yesterday, watching everyone gather around Edward, watching Monica try to comfort Alan through her own grief, well, it had left him feeling cold...and lonely. Like Michael said he felt when he wasn’t invited to certain birthday parties because of his last name.

Jason had gotten so used to pushing the Quartermaines away that it seemed like they’d finally accepted that he was no longer one of them. They were usually polite, but Monica, for example, didn’t ask him to come by anymore. That hopeful, expectant light he’d grown used to seeing on her face when she looked at him had faded away. He’d gotten exactly what he’d always said he wanted.

It was a bitter victory.

Sonny and Carly were proud, happy parents. Surprisingly enough, the physical manifestation of their love--Morgan--had brought them closer together. They’d probably never be a placid couple, but they were genuinely happy. And Jason was happy for them. But every second he spent in their presence, especially when he was playing with Morgan or chatting with Michael, was a painful reminder of the emptiness of his own life. They were his family, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

True, he had his work. But as each day wound down, Jason returned to an apartment that was silent and barren. That hadn’t always bothered him, but it certainly did now. He’d grown used to sharing his space with someone else, even grown to like it. First with Brenda, who was all noise, light, and motion, and then with Courtney. Though he’d long since admitted to himself that he and Courtney weren’t right for each other, that didn’t mean he didn’t miss her presence. Even her frowns and that annoying forehead-rubbing thing she used to do took on special meaning now because they had been proof that he mattered to someone else.

And god, he missed being touched. Not just sexually, though there was that, too. He’d gotten way too familiar with his own hand lately. No, he missed the feeling of someone else’s skin against his own. Somehow the press of someone else’s body against his own made him feel more real. Sometimes he felt like he was slowly becoming invisible, his body turning more translucent with each passing day.

Jason snorted derisively and scrubbed his hands over his face. Man, he was really losing it. He’d bet Cameron Lewis would have all sorts of interesting things to say about his current thoughts. Right, like he’d ever see a shrink.

Tired of thinking, he closed his eyes and laid his back against the bench. The sunlight felt good on his skin.

He started as he felt a hand settle on his shoulder. His gaze whipped upward and met Elizabeth’s.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she said with a smile that spread through him like warm honey. She waved a hand at the bench. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Go ahead.”

“Deep thoughts, huh?” she asked. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and a few strands slipped out to play in the warm breeze.

“Just thinking about my grandmother,” he replied, half-truthfully.

She nodded and stretched her legs out in front of her, settling onto the bench. “She was a great lady.”

“Yeah, she was. She had this thing...Like she saw exactly who you were...” He trailed off.

“...And liked you anyway,” Elizabeth said, finishing his sentence.

Jason looked at her, amazed that she’d put it into words so perfectly.

She laughed and touched his right hand, which lay on his knee. “Don’t look so shocked. I knew her too.”

He flinched nearly imperceptibly at the touch of her hand on his. She noticed, for she lifted his hand and inspected it, frowning slightly. “Ouch. You’ve been busy.”

He eased his hand out of her grasp. “It’s ok.”

“Liar,” she shot back. Rising gracefully to her feet, she tugged on the shoulder of his shirt. “Come on, I’ll clean ‘em up for you.”

He knew he should refuse, but instead he stood and followed her back to her studio.

*****

AJ’s dreams were troubled--filled with angry, disembodied voices yelling at him, telling him how worthless he was--and the squeal of tires and the crunch of metal. Through it all, he was aware he was dreaming. But he couldn’t change the course of the dream or force himself awake. It was like being imprisoned.

He should have woken up feeling like hell; instead he felt a strong sense of peace. Something had shifted inside of him at his grandfather’s comment that Lila was proud of him. It was time to make a decision. Time wasn’t infinite. He’d already wasted so much of it. Whether he’d deserved it or not, his grandmother had been proud of him. She’d seen something in him, something glimmering and bright, buried beneath the layers of dirt. He wasn’t convinced it was there, but it was past time to start looking for it. And maybe, just maybe, if he looked for it, he’d find it.

That settled, he went downstairs to face his family. He found them milling about in the living room. Alan was finishing off a croissant and reaching for another one when Monica glared at him and smacked his hand. Ned was reading the Wall Street Journal. Edward was pacing the length of the room with his arms crossed behind his back. Skye was nursing a glass of orange juice and frowning down at her nails.

Smiling with quiet affection, AJ poured himself a steaming cup of coffee. “I’m moving out,” he announced to the room.

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