Show: General Hospital

Title: Chained

Disclaimer: I don't own; I just worship

Summary: Sequel to "Bender", "My Sheila" and "Falling": It's the morning after. How will Skye deal?

Acknowledgement: For Tai aka Tigerlily24 and all Sax fans still around

A/N: I was planning to only write three parts to the story but I've gotten so many requests to keep writing that I've decided to make it a five part series. I do hope that the fact that they are posted as individual stories and not chapters is not confusing you all. I hope you enjoy.

Haunted Star (continues directly after the events of "Bender")

Jax watched in fascination as the events of last night scrolled past in Skye's expressive hazel eyes. Fascination changed to something that reeked of dismay as he watched a shutter descend over her eyes and a frown mar her beautiful mouth.

He opened his mouth to speak but Skye shook her head and bounded to her feet, dragging the sheet with her. Realising that her actions had just left Jax deliciously nude in the bed, an uncharacteristic flush crept up her neck, and she whirled and presented him her back, clutching the sheet around her body, hoping that her sudden movements wouldn't cause her to be more nauseous than she was.

Too late.

Skye felt the bile rising in her throat, souvenirs from her drinking the night before and she barely made it to the cabin's tiny bathroom before her stomach heaved its contents. Flushing the toilet after a few agonising minutes, Skye made her way to the sink. Reluctantly, she lifted her eyes to the mirror and wasn't surprised by what she saw. Her auburn hair was a tangled mess, her makeup was smudged, her skin pale and slightly waxy, her eyes bloodshot with faint violet smudges beneath them and... was that a hickey on her neck! She turned her neck to get a better look. Sure enough, a purple bruise stood out starkly against her pale skin. In short, she looked like shit.

She certainly felt like it. Nausea still shuddered through her veins, coupled with a sense of disgust - she'd fallen off the wagon. Not only had she done that but she'd given in to Jax's charms, something she'd vowed never to do again after he'd practically ripped out her heart in the disaster that had been their courtship and subsequent mockery of a marriage. A shiver of arousal shifted up her spine as she thought back to last night however - Jax stroking her... kissing her... biting, sucking, fucking her.... Skye shook those thoughts from her head.

She was weak.

Last night, at least. She'd be damned if Jasper Jacks made her weak again!

Bravado sure could boost a girl's senses. With newfound determination, Skye opened the bathroom door and strode back into the cabin. By this time, Jax had slipped back into his pants and his shirt, which he left unbuttoned. He sat at the edge of the bed facing the bathroom door. He had been waiting for her to come out, his face flooded with concern.

Skye didn't know quite how to deal with that. She certainly didn't want to stay in that room with six-feet of blonde god for any longer than she absolutely had to. So, she ignored him.

Jax's eyebrows lifted as Skye slipped past him. She snatched the peacock-blue dress from where she'd stepped out of it halfway between the bed and the door. Without another word, she stalked past him again and into the bathroom. Five minutes later, she appeared clothed in the sinful dress. Jax had by this time buttoned his shirt and slipped on his shoes. She'd hastily finger combed her hair, but there was no help for her and it tumbled in a heavy mass around her shoulders.

Steadfastly continuing to ignore her ex-husband, Skye kept her eyes peeled for her shoes. One gold stiletto poked out from under the king-sized bed and she stooped to pick it up. She caught sight of the other one perched in the porthole. How the hell had that happened? Now that she'd found them, she looked at them dubiously, not knowing if she could handle being four inches taller, balancing on a heel that was just slightly bigger than a pen cover.

In all this time, Jax watched her as she tried to put some sense into their situation. In the light of day, he recognised how foolhardy what they had done was. But he couldn't get his mind away from last night, of touching her, tangling his hands in that mass of auburn hair, of hearing her cry out his name.... He wanted her to say something... curse him, flay his ego with her caustic tongue... anything! But Skye kept stubbornly silent and refused to meet his eyes.

Finally, not being able to stand the suspense of watching her go about her business as if he wasn't even in the room or, at the very least, worthy of a glance, he reached out for her and, much like the night before, grabbed her hand, subconsciously mindful of any bruises she might have sustained from his rough handling of her. "Skye," he beseeched.

That tone compelled her to meet his gaze. She wondered if her vulnerabilty where he was concerned was broadcast in her eyes. Could he see how much she despised herself at the moment? How, though it pained her to admit it, she thought she would never be worthy of him? How weak she was? How much she wished she could be exactly the woman he wanted? How much she burned for him? Could he see he only had to say the words and she would be chained to him forever? Did he remember what she'd told him in the darkness of the night? Did he even care?

Skye stepped back. Her senses were on overload. If Jax continued to touch her, she would fold like a bad poker hand.

"What you said to me last night..." he said. "Did you mean it?"

There was no mistaking what he meant. They'd said a lot of hurtful things to each other, but she instinctively knew to what he was referring to. A flush rose up Skye's pale neck and flamed her cheeks. "I think I'm falling, Jax...." She'd said the words. Mayhap she'd been too drunk to realise the impact; mayhap she'd hoped Jax wouldn't remember.... Obviously, he had.

What burned even more was that he hadn't replied... hadn't said anything.... So, amidst the self-loathing was embarassment. At the moment, her claws weren't sharp enough; indeed she had the strength of a newborn kitten. She didn't have the strength to reply.

She couldn't bare to look at this man any longer. This man who, despite it all, she still felt inexplicably bound to.

Skye took a deep breath and headed for the door. Jax bounded to his feet, his mind screaming at him to say something to make her stop, to make her stay. "I am, too," he blurted in admission.

Skye paused in midstride. She fancied that he could hear the escalation of her breathing. She heard heavy footfalls as he made his way to stand behind her and felt his breath on the nape of her neck. Around the headache and the pain, both physical and emotional, she felt a sense of something else. Dare she hope?

She couldn't. She wouldn't. She had that much self respect that she wouldn't let it be robbed again. By God, she wasn't about to break a vow she'd made in the bathroom ten minutes ago!

Skye reached for the doorhandle and let herself out of the room.

She couldn't handle the chains... not now....


A/N: Look out for the final part. I hope you enjoy. This installment was a lot round about and a helluva lot confusing but I hope you enjoyed anyways. Don't worry, things will work themselves out in the end.