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“What the hell?” Carly stuttered, casting him a suspicious
glance. She
studied him for any similarities that could be taken
for family
resemblance. Finding none, she relaxed and decided
she was safe, for
now. But what the hell did he want from her?
“Well hello there red dress!” Luke drawled, looking around.
Carly was confused momentarily, then remember she’d been
wearing the
damn red dress at Luke's the other night. That
dress, she decided
suddenly, was more trouble than it was worth. She
made a mental note to
get rid of it, soon. She didn’t say
a word to Luke, but rolled her
eyes for effect before turning back to the charts she
was working on.
“Um, red dress,” Luke said, tapping her on the shoulder
with exaggerated
urgency. “Have you seen my sister around here?
About yey tall, red
hair, brown eyes…your mother…”
Carly dropped the chart she was holding and wasn’t even
aware of the
clatter it made on the ground. She stared at Luke,
her eyes wide. They
were rapidly filling with tears.
Luke watched her reaction, convinced his hunch had been
right. He’d
seen her at the hospital before, but it wasn’t until
the night at his
club when he really began to suspect. She was the
right age, had the
right attitude, and was the spitting image of Barbara
Jean when she was
mad. Luke had watched what had transpired with
the guy who tried to
mess with her from his office. It was then that
he knew. He’d made a
few quick phone calls, did a nice and tidy background
check, and voila!
Carly Roberts turned into Caroline Benson faster than
Cinderella turned
into a peasant at midnight.
Carly stared at him. She was convinced it was a
dream. Or a nightmare.
There was no way he could know. How? Why
would he even suspect? She
bit her bottom lip and quickly thought of something to
say.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she snapped.
Luke laughed. He should have known she wouldn’t
go down without a
fight. She was a Spencer after all.
“I know, Caroline,” he said, his voice lowering into
a serious tone.
Carly’s eyes widened at the sound of her real name.
She panicked. She
wanted to run away and hide. It had been a mistake to
come to Port
Charles. She knew it now. She made the decision
in that instant to pack
up and leave. “You don’t know what you’re talking
about,” she said, her
voice shaking. Without waiting for him to reply,
Carly ran toward the
elevator. Thankfully, it was opening and she rushed on,
the tears
suddenly spilling down her cheeks.
Once on the street, Carly had no idea where to go.
Home, she thought.
Home to get my stuff and get the hell out of here.
She hailed a cab and
got inside. Her mind was made up. She didn’t
know where she’d go, not
back to Florida, no way. But somewhere. Somewhere warm.
Somewhere where
there were no Spencer's. She shook her head, staring
out the window of
the cab as the city rushed by. A fresh sob rose
in her throat as she
realized she would have one goodbye to say, and it wouldn’t
be easy to
say it.
*~*~*
Carly cursed every twig and bush that scratched at her
legs as she
tramped through the woods with her suitcase in hand.
Where the hell was
that damn boxcar? Was a goodbye worth it?
She couldn’t even find the
guy.
Finally she saw it ahead of her. It was hard to
believe that just three
mornings ago, she’d woken up in that broken down wooden
box and felt
truly happy. She snorted at this. What did
she know about happiness?
Just when she thought she had a grasp on it, it was gone.
Poking her head around the wooden wall that faced her,
Carly groaned to
find it empty. She pushed herself up into the boxcar
and slammed her
suitcase down. With an exasperated sigh, she flopped
herself down on a
pillow and began her wait. She tried to think about
anything and
everything except Bobbie and Luke. She stared at
the “bed” she sat on
and forced herself to think about Jason and their recent
night here.
She had insisted on not having sex that night, just to
see if he would.
It had really been a ploy to see if he was interested
in her as more
than the occasional sex partner. He was.
He had questioned it, of
course, he said he wanted to have sex, but still held
her all night
without it. Carly remembered feeling content.
It was the first time
she’d been with someone she had no secrets from.
Someone who didn’t
expect her to be anyone but herself around him.
Someone who was mad if
she wasn’t her true self around him. Carly had
never met someone like
Jason. He accepted her openly, with every flaw
she possessed, even if
he didn’t understand or agree with her. She began
to cry as she
realized this was the first and only real thing in her
life. She didn’t
want to leave it. She wouldn’t. But she couldn’t
stay in town. Not
with Luke knowing who she was.
Carly sighed again, blowing her bangs off her forehead.
Stuck between a
rock and a hard place. The story of her life.
The proverbial double
edged sword, damned if you do damned if you don’t scenario.
“ugh!” she
groaned out loud, looking around for something to throw.
There was
another pillow laying next to her. Too soft.
She spotted the lantern,
and without thinking, picked it up and threw it as hard
as she could
against the opposite wall. She screamed as she
did so, letting out
every frustration that pelted her mind.
Jason stepped into the boxcar at that instant, and quickly
ducked out of
the way when he saw the lantern flying right at his head.
“Jesus
Christ!” he shouted, watching it smash against the wall
next to him.
Lighter fluid splattered his legs. “What the hell
are you doing?” he
asked, glaring at Carly.
Carly smirked through her tears. “I won’t light
a match,” she said
flippantly.
“Why did you smash my only source of light?” Jason asked,
calmer now but
still slightly angry.
Carly didn’t answer. She sank back down into the pillow,
covering her
face with her hands.
“Carly?” Jason said, cautiously now. “Why did you do that?”
Carly looked up at him, fresh tears coursing down her
cheeks. She
glared at him, real anger flashing in her eyes. “Who
cares about the
stupid lantern?!” she shouted. “You have
five thousand dollars, go buy
yourself another one!” She was angry, so angry
she wanted to punch and
scream and kick at him.
Jason had never seen her like this before. She could be
mean, yeah, but
not like this. She really looked furious. “Carly,”
he said again, not
realizing his tone was condescending. “Why don’t
you settle down and
tell me what’s wrong with you?”
Carly laughed incredulously at him. She shook her
head back, wiping her
tears away. “Oh give me a break. What are
you a god damn shrink now?
Don’t condescend to me, Jason Quartermaine-Morgan,
whatever. You can’t
make things right with your own life, so don’t expect
to be able to help
me with mine!”
Jason stared at her. He was trying to remain calm,
to find out what all
this was about. But he felt anger rising in him
and control slipping
away. “Look, Carly, if you’re mad at me for something…”
he began.
“It is not about YOU!” Carly screamed at him. “Not
everything in my
life is about YOU. God, don’t you understand ANYTHING?
The world
doesn’t have to bow down to the feet of Jason Morgan.
You wonder why
people don’t like you? You’re mean! You don’t
make an effort to
understand anything but yourself!” Carly was out
of control. She knew
she didn’t mean a word she was saying, but couldn’t stop
herself. She
picked up the previously rejected pillow and heaved it
at him with all
of her might.
Jason caught it with ease. He was definitely angry
now. “Get out,” he
said coldly, throwing the pillow to a corner and putting
his hands on
his hips.
Carly stopped her rant. She looked around, suddenly
panicked. If he
threw her out, where would she go? She had turned
in her keys to her
landlord. She was leaving. Carly shook her
head, trying to clear it.
Right. She’d leave. She took a breath. She
felt bad about what she’d
said. She hadn’t meant a word of it. But would
Jason believe her if she
said that? Probably not. She walked over
to the corner where she’d put
her suitcase. Picking it up, she saw Jason’s expression
falter. He
hadn’t noticed the suitcase before.
“I um, I came to say goodbye anyway,” she mumbled.
Gazing at him, she
missed him already. God, this was so hard. Why
was it so hard? Carly
knew the answer. She was falling for him. Fast.
She’d known since the
night three days ago she’d spent just laying in
his arms. She was
pretty much completely gone for the guy and couldn’t
deny it to herself.
Jason stared back at her. He didn’t know what to
say. He was furious at
her, but didn’t want her to go. He did, right now,
but not forever.
“Where are you going?” he asked, dropping his hands from
his hips and
taking his jacket off. His voice sounded void of
emotion, but Jason was
feeling about a hundred different things right then.
How could she do
this to him? He couldn’t imagine her not being
around to spend time
with. What would he do with himself?
“Here, there, anywhere,” she said, smiling slightly at
the memory of
what he’d said the second time they’d met.
Jason smiled too. Oh this girl was too much.
She’d definitely gotten
under his skin. He had to keep her from going.
He made a move toward
her, and Carly quickly moved back.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t make this harder on me.”
Jason reached his hand out, but didn’t move any closer.
“I don’t want
to,” he said sincerely. “Carly, I want to help
you.”
Carly snorted at this. “You can’t, Jase, no one
can. That’s why I have
to leave.”
“At least tell me what happened,” he said, reaching out
farther and
grasping the suitcase handle. He brushed her hand
as he did so, and
felt electric shocks run through his entire body.
She let him take the
suitcase from her, and he set it down behind him, as
if he could shield
her from taking it anywhere.
Carly stared at Jason. She blinked, maybe to make
sure he was real.
Suddenly, she dissolved into sobs, her legs crumpling
beneath her. As
she slid down the wall behind her, her face in her hands,
she brought
her legs up to her chest. She tightened herself
into a small ball and
let the wave of emotion overcome her.
~God I feel like hell tonight
Tears of rage I cannot fight
I’d be the last to help you understand
Are you strong enough to be my man~
Jason went to her, kneeling down and putting his arms
around her. He
held her that way for a long time. It was awkward,
but neither seemed
to notice or care. Carly began to shake, her body
wracked with sobs.
~Nothing’s true and nothing’s right
So let me be alone tonight
You can’t change the way I am
Are you strong enough to be my man~
Jason had no idea what to do but to hold her. He
didn’t know what to
say, or if he could say anything. Several emotions
coursed through him
at once. He felt sad that Carly was so miserable.
It made him want to
bawl with her. But what stopped him was the unexplained
rage he also
felt. He was angry at whatever was making her so
sad. He wanted to
know what It was. He wanted to see if ;he could
fix it for her. He
knew he probably couldn't'’. What she had said
was right. How could he
help her, he could barely help himself.
~Lie to me, I promise I’ll believe
Lie to me, just please don’t leave~
Jason moved around to the side of Carly. She was
still sobbing, now a
bit more subdued but still unable to stop. He put
one arm around the
back of her, his other under the crook of her legs.
He picked her up
and carried her over to his makeshift bed. Laying
Carly down he
stretched out beside her, supporting his head on one
hand with his
elbow. Her sobs had now subsided into hiccups and
silent tears. Jason
laced his fingers through her hair and massaged the back
of her neck.
Still, not a word.
~I have a face I cannot show
I make the rules up as I go
Try and love me if you can
Are you strong enough to be my man~
Once Carly had calmed almost completely, she opened her
eyes, blinking
at him as though she was surprised to see him.
Jason gave a slight
smile, but his eyes showed deep concern.
"Oh God, Jase," Carly moaned, rolling her head back and
putting a hand
on her forehead. "What was I saying to you?
What have I done?" She
pulled herself up in to a sitting position, rubbing her
hands over her
face. "Don't hate me," she pleaded, gazing down
at him. He hadn't
moved.
Jason looked up at her, smiling more broadly now.
"Do you ever just say
sorry?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"That's what you
told me to say."
Carly grinned a bit sheepishly. Sooner or later
he'd begin to realize
how seldom she practiced what she preached. It
was easy to teach the
rules of society. It was following them that was
the kicker.
"Sorry," she muttered, putting a gentle hand on his face.
"Can you
forgive me?"
Jason thought for a moment. The truth was, he knew
Carly did and said
things she didn't mean all the time. Sometimes
it was hard to know when
was which but this time he knew. He knew he hadn't
meant to say or do
any of the things she had done. Jason had forgiven
her as soon as she'd
dissolved into tears.
"I forgive you," he said.
Carly beamed now but it quickly faded. She began
absently pulling on
his ear. "I owe you an explanation," she said,
gesturing toward the
broken lantern and the suitcase that now rested near
it. She looked
away from Jason's eyes, and focused on a pile of clothes
in the corner
behind him. How should she begin? She thought
of an old saying: there
ain't nothing to it but to do it. Armed with that,
she plunged in.
"Luke Spencer approached me today," she began, pulling
harder on his ear
at the thought. Jason put his hand up to hers and
pulled it away from
his ear. He seemed about to say something but thought
better of it.
Instead, he squeezed her hand, keeping it in his, encouraging
her to
continue. "He knows, Jason," she said, near tears
again. "He knows who
I am."
Jason didn't even blink at the news. He remained
quiet, waiting for her
to continue. Carly stared at him. Had he
heard her? She wondered,
taking in his blank expression. "Jason," she finally
prompted, waiting
for him to respond.
"Then what?" he asked, matter of factly.
Carly blinked, surprised. She recovered quickly
and thought. "Um, I
freaked. I think. No, I denied it.
Yeah." She thought hard. It was
such a blur. She'd definitely denied it.
"I denied it," she repeated.
Jason sighed. "Why?" he asked. "Why did you
lie?" He just did not
understand her sometimes.
Carly rolled her head back, massaging her neck and shoulders.
She
groaned, feeling worn out from crying. "I don't
know, Jason," she said,
a hint of aggravation in her voice. "It's what
I do. I just say
whatever I think of to keep me out of trouble."
Jason nodded. This he knew. It was the way
she protected herself. He
avoided people, and fought if he had to. Carly
lied. "Did it work?
Did it keep you out of trouble?" Jason asked skeptically.
He couldn't
imagine what trouble her true identity could get her
in, but didn't
bother asking.
"He didn't believe me," Carly muttered. "Then he
called me Caroline
Benson and I freaked. I ran outta there so fast
you'd have thought the
joint was burning to the ground." Carly laughed
at her misfortune.
"Oh, Jason," she continued, sighing. "I can't handle
this. I thought I
could but I can't. That's why..." Carly hesitated,
gazing at him.
"That's why I'm leaving," she finally said, her eyes
falling from him
and back to the pile of clothes behind him.
Jason stared at her. "For how long?" he asked, hiding
the panic he was
beginning to feel. He hadn't thought of her ever
leaving. She was just
always there. He'd grown to depend on her somewhat.
He liked her a
lot. He cared about her a lot. She taught
him things and made him
laugh. Their relationship had gone quickly from
just fun and games to a
deep friendship and a special bond only the two of them
could
understand.
Carly was shaking her head now. She sniffed and
a forlorn smile
appeared on her face. "For good, Jason," she said
finally, looking up
at him. with moist eyes. "I don't belong here.
I never did."
Jason lay back, clasping his hands behind his head.
He sighed, staring
up at the ceiling. "Carly, are you leaving because
you don't belong or
because you are afraid that Bobbie is going to find out
who you are?"
Carly stared at Jason. Damn him. His whole
habit of not lying was just
the slightest bit annoying at times.
"I can't face my mother, okay," she said, completely exasperated.
"There, I said it, and it doesn't change the fact that
I'm outta here."
Without a second glance, Carly got up and went to her
suitcase.
Jason jumped up as though the blankets he sat on were
on fire. "Carly
wait," he gasped, afraid she'd walk out of the boxcar
and never come
back.
She whirled around, surprised at his urgency. He
couldn't possibly care
that much, could he? She tried to read his expression.
It was so rare
that he had one. He looked sad, that was for sure.
Sad and worried,
Carly decided. Her face softened and she put the
suitcase down. She
walked toward him, stopping at about arms length.
She didn't say
anything, just gazed at him, memorizing his beautiful
face.
"Carly," he murmured, reaching out for her.
Carly shook her head. This would only make it harder.
Jason wanted to
hold her so bad. His heart ached for her.
Instead, he shoved his hands
in his pockets and stared at the ground. "I don't
want you to go," he
said, sounding forlorn.
"You'll miss the sex?" Carly snapped. Her words
stung even her and she
immediately regretted saying them. She could never
get anything out
without offending someone. All the more reason
to get out while she
still had dome dignity. She didn't apologize for
what she said. She
didn't have the chance.
Before she could blink, Jason had her suitcase open and
was throwing her
clothes into a large duffel bag. Carly watched
him, mouth agape. When
he'd emptied the entire suitcase, he pushed her clothes
down and threw a
few of his own on top. Then, he walked over to
where the floorboards
were loose and in one fluid movement, pulled up the boards
and flung the
brown vinyl bag into the duffel bag.
"What the hell are you doing?" Carly finally sputtered.
Jason looked at her but said nothing, pulling the bag
up onto his
shoulder and walking out of the boxcar. Carly stood
rooted to the spot.
She had no idea what he was doing. She decided
not to go after him, and
folded her arms over her chest, plastering a look of
defiance on her
face. When she heard the motorcycle's engine roar
to life, her eyes
rolled skyward.
"Great," she muttered, panic enveloping her. Was
he going to take off
with all of her stuff? She forced her feet to move
out of the boxcar.
She didn't notice the engine was only idling until she
got outside.
Jason was perched on the bike, an expectant look on his
face. Carly
stared at him, saying nothing.
"Come on," Jason said, a bit of impatience creeping into
his tone. He
tried to bore holes into her soul with his eyes.
She was so closed up,
he couldn't see a thing but the white of her shirt.
Her ability to
withhold emotions at the drop of a hat rivaled only his.
Carly didn't move. She folded her arms across her
chest, again staging
defiance. Jason rolled his eyes, a trick he'd picked
up from Carly.
She did it often. He did it to annoy her.
"Wherever you're going, I'm going to take you," Jason
finally explained.
"Why do you think I packed your stuff? Did you
think I was going to
steal them?!"
Carly blushed, not willing to admit that she'd entertained
the thought.
She looked at the duffel bag, then at Jason on the bike.
God he was
sexy. She moved closer to him, her eyes traveling
over the tight black
t-shirt that glorified every muscle in his chest and
back.
"What was wrong with my suitcase?" she asked, pouting slightly.
Jason grinned at her. She was cute when she pouted
on purpose. Which
was a lot of the time. He took in her white v-neck
shirt and tight blue
jeans and wished she'd get on the bike so he could enjoy
the feel of her
against him. It seemed so long since he'd felt
her against him, he
yearned for it every minute of every day.
"The duffel bag's bigger and I can rope it to my bike
easier," Jason
explained, getting off the motorcycle and picking up
the bag. He put a
hand on Carly's back, unknowingly weakening her defenses
as he did so.
"Would you *please* get on the bike?" he asked, his lips
dangerously
close to her ear.
Carly nodded, temporarily unable to speak for fear of
blurting out
something stupid like 'I'll do anything you say just
don't stop touching
me!' She straddled the bike, leaving enough room
for Jason in front of
her.
Jason swung the duffel bag up onto the motorcycle and
his hand magically
appeared on the small of her back again. This time
he was nudging her
forward. "You'll have to move up, Carly," he said,
struggling with the
bag. "I have to fit this on the seat behind you."
Carly moved up a few inches. Jason's hand stayed
where it was on her
back, still urging her forward. Carly scooted forward
again, beginning
to wonder if she'd have to drive the damn thing herself.
She was
practically straddling the handlebars at this point.
"There!" Jason exclaimed triumphantly, finally pushing
the bag all the
way onto the seat and securing it with a bungee cord.
Carly looked around and smirked. "Where do you plan on sitting, Jason?"
Jason winked at her, putting his hand on the seat between
her legs.
"Right here," he said huskily, desire lacing his tone.
Carly shivered. God, why did she want to jump on
him whenever he was
near? She knew the game he was playing and could
usually play it right
along with the best of them. Get your partner so
hot and bothered
they'll be thanking you for every glance you throw their
way. But when
Jason did it lately, Carly was left flustered and speechless,
a feeling
she did not enjoy.
Carly pushed a skeptical look onto her face to cover her
unnerving. One
thing she was always great at was acting. One skill
she had that Jason
did not: lying. Given this new burst of power,
she grinned coyly at
him as he swung his leg over the seat, almost kicking
her in the face.
Jason squirmed in, pushing Carly up against the duffel
bag. "Ow!" Carly
complained, although not hurt at all and thoroughly enjoying
his
closeness.
When they were finally on, Carly tipped her chin up to
rest on his
shoulder. There was no other place to put her face.
Every inch of
space was taken up between their bodies. She felt
glued to his back,
the duffel bag winning most of the room on the bike.
"This is, um, cozy," she muttered, trying to sound disdainful.
Jason turned his face toward her voice and could see her
profile. She
was an angel. His heart involuntarily skipped a
few beats as he gazed
at her smooth porcelain skin and her dark eyes framed
by thick lashes.
"I thought you'd like it," he murmured before bringing
his foot down on
the throttle and revving the motorcycle's engine to full
power.
********************************************************************
~Song Credit: "Strong Enough" written by Sheryl
Crow, Bill Bottrell,
David Baerwald, Kevin Gilbert, David Ricketts and Brian
MacLeod~
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