Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 1

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.. they belong to the big- wigged powersuits over at ABC, who pay writers that all Liason and Sexis fans want to see shot, drawn and quartered! No profit is being made from this story. it all goes into a fund to do the above serious bodily harm, :^D

A/N: It's me again, back for part two. Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. If this is the first time you're reading this, I suggest you go find Part I to read, just so you can get a general gist of what's going on. Please read the initial summary:

Summary: This part is set two and a half months after the final chapter of Part 1. Sonny and Alexis are about to get married (they are planning for a ceremony on the island) and are living with their younger daughter in a newly decorated Penthouse back in PC. After her recovery, Elizabeth stuck around long enough to see them settle in as a family before fleeing to New York again. She and Jason did not have another interlude like they did in the hospital because Courtney had come back home with Michael. Although physically healed from her attack, Liz still has to deal with the emotional demons and, unlike after her rape, she has no knight in shining armor to save her from distress. The last time Jason saw Liz was Sonny and Alexis's housewarming. with Courtney. Jason finds Liz sitting in a dark corner of the balcony away from the party. They talk and at the end of it all they are about to kiss when Courtney walks out and interrupts. Liz leaves for home the next day and he is, of course, hopelessly confused.. This is their story.

*~*~*~*~*~*

New York City

She sat immersed in the inky darkness for the fifth straight night since she'd dragged herself into her studio apartment on the Upper East Side of New York City. She sat there, quiet as a mouse, still as a statue on her overstuffed couch in the corner by the enormous picture window overlooking the city. If she'd had any visitors, they would have thought she was dead. But of course she didn't have any visitors, because she hadn't ventured from her apartment since returning. hadn't moved from that spot in two days except to urinate and drink some water so she wouldn't pass out from dehydration.

This waif. this wisp of a girl that was Elizabeth Corinthos, yet not, blended so perfectly in the shadows. submersing herself in some insane and subconscious effort to be invisible. She would slay the demons of the night and of her dreams by turning on every single light throughout the apartment.if she had the strength to move.

But she didn't. shadows can't do that. And that's what she had become - a shadow. If she could have seen herself in a mirror, she would have shrunk from her own reflection in terror. In fact she had, less than three hours ago, when the weight of her bladder sent her scurrying across the hardwood floors in search of the bathroom. She sat on the toilet, with barely enough energy to push herself to her feet or button up her jeans.

It wasn't near dark yet, and though she made a supreme effort not to look at herself in the mirror, she caught a flash of scarlet, looking painfully cheerful in her world of grey and, as if magnetically pulled, she felt her gaze lifting to the mirror above the sink. If she'd had a weapon, she would have smash the looking glass into a thousand splinters, all in an effort to destroy this stranger looking back at her.

Her long silky chocolate curls had been butchered into a harsh crew cut of some sorts, her skin was pale and lifeless, stretched taut against the bones of her too-thin face. Her eyes were like huge blue saucers too big. too wide to look remotely human, the violet smudges like half moons under her eyes. To say she had lost weight would have been a gross understatement. Her formerly snug jeans and tops hung on her now bony, angular frame. Her hip bones jutted forward, and under her shirts, her ribcage and spinal column were starkly pronounced. She looked like a famine victim. She wasn't just starved for food. she was starved for affection.

She was starved for the capacity to feel *something*. *anything* but fear. God knows she felt enough of that. The only time she had ever felt so afraid had been directly after her rape. But even then she'd had her prince, her knight in shining armour: Lucky Spencer. He had helped her through her pain, helped her to love and feel safe again after her innocence had been snatched away from her.

Elizabeth scowled and left the bathroom in a rush. She had headed back to her sanctuary in the corner. Past unopened letters, paints, pastels and brushes beside her easels, past unopened suitcases still perched in the middle of the open-plan apartment, back to her couch where she blocked images of the stranger she had become, where she absentmindedly watched the sunset over New York bathing the city in bright vibrant reds and oranges and golds; colours she would have been fascinated by before, but now didn't have the slightest care for. She watched darkness descend again, but not just on the city, but on her heart as well.

She sat immersed in the darkness for the fifth straight night since she'd dragged herself home. Alone.. A Greek line of poetry came to mind as the proud vestige of her soul struggled to rear its head in the swirling darkness. It was dampened, gutted by her anger and pain. scurrying away like an injured puppy. Elizabeth Corinthos wasn't ready to be saved. not yet.

The line reverberated throughout her thoughts, over and over and over again until it melded into one strange litany that brought the first set of tears she had shed since that night to her eyes : Lypi panta.. Agapi, elpizo, eirini oudepote.

TBC.

A/N: I guess you can tell Part 2 will have a much darker atmosphere than Part 1. The final line of the chapter is actually something I made up myself and translated into my terrible Greek. It means: Pain always..Love, hope, peace never. I hope you like the chapter, please R&R and tell me what you thought.

Cara