Hey!

As always, I want to thank everyone who left such great comments about There You'll Be. Very appreciated. I'm glad that you all enjoyed the story.

This is a one shot. I was over on The Canvas the other night when they posted their new prompt. FF # 201 Blood Spattered Wood. I was intrigued but unable to write at the time, but the idea stuck with me and so I decided I would write this out anyway. I went over the one hour time limit because I had to edit but then it's a whole day late anyway, so I guess I can be forgiven, right?

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

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Consequences

"Think I broke the wings off a little song bird, she's never gonna fly to the top of the world right now..."
By: The Dixie Chicks

Red.

It slid slowly across his knuckles.

It welled.

Then almost in slow motion began its descent, splashing onto the wood like a raindrop onto a lake. Joining the spattered dots that had come from the small cut at her lower lip.

At least that's what it looked like from her point of view as she tried to sit up from where she had landed after being shoved to the ground in the ensuing fight. His breathing was harsh, his body braced to attack and God forgive her for the thought, she wanted that brutality. She wanted him to finish what he'd began and bring as much pain as she had experienced. Her entire body ached, felt as if it had been pummeled with a viciousness that instantly shoved her back into the terror of her rape.

For one instant, those eyes had been the same. That blank cold rage had been the same and she knew that she would never be able to forget it. She knew that it would haunt her nightmares for many months to come.

She had been standing here on the docks trying to make some sense of the chaos that her life had become when she heard footsteps descending the stairs to her left. Startled she turned to find the one man she had been avoiding because she didn't know what she was going to say to him.

Only to discover words weren't necessary.

Before she could speak, he grabbed her arms and shook hard, and she knew that he was high. Only this was different than the night she confronted him about sleeping with another woman.

"How long have you been using?" She had yelled, uncaring of the precarious position she was in. Those hands that she had kissed, hands that she enjoyed moving across her body as they made love, hands that she had entrusted the welfare of her son were now squeezing on her skin, abominable twisting with hatred. "Have you been having sex with Maxie again too?"

She had promised herself that if he lied to her again, that she would leave. She would pack her things and her son and walk away from the man she had made promises to because her vow to her son was more important.

How had they come to this? A man and a woman fighting on the docks in the middle of the night.

"How could you do this to us?" Tears blurred her eyes, her hair flying around her face from her useless struggles against his grip. Pounding her fists against his chest. Breath heaving in her chest. Caught in her throat.

"I hate you!" the words came out in a choked rush, halting them both for one stunned second, as every ounce of anger finally broke free from the choke chain she held it on. "I hate you! You make me sick! You're a pathetic excuse for a man who can't even stay faithful to his wife! You're no better than the next junkie dying to get his fix and I hate you for what you've done to my husband!"

The slap echoed through the night like an obscenity.

It whipped her head to the side with such force that she stumbled, would have fallen if not for the grip on her arm. She could feel the skin at her lip split with a painful twinge as the bitter metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

"Jason?"

The cold voice made her shiver down to the very depths of her soul.

"Jason's baby?"

But how? Who? Even she wasn't certain whose child she carried, had only gotten the call that the paternity results were in from Kelly this afternoon. She hadn't gone to GH yet, hadn't accepted the words that would change her life and yet Lucky was already accusing her.

Blaming her.

Hating her.

"All this time," he dragged her close enough that she could see that the pupils of his eyes were so dilated that his eyes were almost black, "All this time I thought it was Patrick Drake." His hands twisted, harder, until the skin burned. "When it's been Jason. Yet, it's always been Jason, hasn't it?" He blinked then, his lip curling into a nasty snarl, and he shook hard, "Hasn't it!"

"Let me go," she yelled, her voice sounded thin, raspy, even as her hands pushed uselessly against his chest. "Lucky let me go."

That's when they were jerked apart.

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If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would have called the person a liar that told him that Lucky Spencer would raise his hand to a woman.

Elizabeth's words echoed in his ears, "You don't know what a woman will do when she is betrayed. She wouldn't be normal if she didn't think about payback."

Never would he have thought Sam would go this far.

Her fury at discovering Elizabeth's pregnancy was understandable. Just when they might have made back to each other, this one thing came along to complicate the situation. No Elizabeth hadn't told Lucky she was pregnant. The only reason she had confided in him was because she had no one else. No one who wasn't connected to her life with Lucky. Her grandmother. Emily. Nikolas. They all were apart of the relationship she shared with Lucky Spencer. How could she confide in them that she was pregnant and didn't know who the father was?

Sam must have overheard their conversation, though he had no idea. For weeks they went along as if nothing was wrong. He had thought they were truly making strides toward mending their relationship.

Yet he had been accused of being blind before, so this was no different.

Their confrontation at the hospital had been vicious and the angry words spoken could never be taken back. Finally all the resentment they both had been bottled up inside spewed forth and the result left him cold. Colder than he'd ever experienced. Colder than he'd ever known.

"You pushed me away, claiming that your life was too dangerous, then turned around and slept with Liz?"

He had no defense for that, it was true, and how to say that he wasn't in love with Elizabeth. She was his friend and he cared about her, but it wasn't like Sam. It wasn't love that would rip his heart out if he had to feel her die in his arms. So he didn't deny it. "Yes," he admitted, wondering why everyone thought he was perfect. How they couldn't accept that he too made mistakes.

Why was he expected to always do the right thing? To have the right answer, to offer the right support. To be the strong one and not falter.

He was just a man.

"And you get angry because I slept with Ric and you did the same thing. All of this is your fault and you're pushing the blame off on me."

"Am I supposed to like that you fucked him? Am I supposed to say, well I pushed her away, I can't complain. Can't complain that you fucked the man I want to put a bullet in. Can't be angry because I saw the woman I love fucking someone else?"

"How do you think I feel!"

Tears welled up in her dark eyes, and she pushed her hair away from her face, "Yet again, it's proven that I can't let my defenses down. That I can't trust good things to happen to me."

And suddenly it made him furious. The tears. The self-pitying remarks. All designed to make him feel like shit without actually coming out and saying the words that she should say. "So I made you get drunk and fuck Ric, is that it?"

"No," she shook her head, "But all those weeks I begged and pleaded for you to take me back."

"How can you not understand what I was going through?" He asked, shaking his head, "You were shot in my arms. Your blood spilled over onto my hands and your body went limp and for one horrifying moment I thought you were dead. Can you not understand that I didn't want that to happen again?" Tears blurred his eyes as his voice cracked with emotion, "I love you, and you almost died. Yes I acted stupid and pushed you away. I took away your choices. Yes, I accept responsibility for everything I did but I won't take the blame for you fucking another man!"

"And what about you and Liz, will you take responsibility for that? You act as if you don't even feel bad for doing it."

He said nothing because he didn't. That night it had felt like he was being torn into tiny pieces and he had reached out and Elizabeth had grabbed hold. Kept him sane. Yes he chose to sleep with her, no he didn't have regrets and if that made him a bastard, so be it.

He could live with that.

"You don't," she whispered, "You don't regret having sex with her." She frowned, "Have you wanted to sleep with her all along?"

"You know that isn't true," he denied immediately. The one thing she could never accuse him of is being unfaithful while they were together. Never had he even looked in the direction of another woman after they came together.

"Isn't it? I mean, one moment you're in love with me and the next you're in bed with your 'friend'? How am I supposed to believe you haven't wanted her all along? How do I accept the little smiles that the two of you share when you see each other? Why don't I have the right to be angry that you fucked another woman? And now she's pregnant and you could be the father."

"You have the right to feel whatever you want to feel," he wiped a hand over his face. What he couldn't understand was why he wasn't allowed the same right.

"When were you going to tell me?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"When there was something to tell," he answered honestly. Maybe he should have been up front and told her directly, but he hadn't because the strain on their relationship was still so tight that he couldn't fathom her being anything but hurt by it.

"You used to tell me everything. Yet you decided to keep this from me. I had to overhear you and Liz talking about the baby that the two of you might have made together. Now you're keeping secrets with her."

"It's not like that," he had no explanation. Maybe he just didn't want to deal with the fallout of this revelation if he didn't have to.

"Then what is it like? You destroyed our relationship, but yet you get to be angry? I betrayed you, but you slept with Liz and she could be carrying your child and I'm the one at fault?"

"I don't know," he repeated.

"You don't know? You don't know? Well what do you know Jason?"

"Nothing!" he shouted, "I don't know anything. Don't you get it Sam? I don't have any answers. No solutions. Nothing! Why am I supposed to have the answers."

"Maybe because you always pretend like you do," she answered bitterly.

"Well I don't," he released a slow breath. "Why don't you tell me what to do for once? Instead of waiting for me to fix it, you fix it. Tell me what to do, how do I make this right?"

Neither of them had answers. Only pain. Anger. It was all broken and it was his fault. "What are you going to do if it's your baby?"

"I don't know," another question. All of these questions that he had no answers for. "It doesn't matter because I don't know yet. I don't want to think about it until I have to."

"So what? The four of us are supposed to raise the baby that you and Elizabeth conceived during your night of revenge sex."

"It wasn't revenge," he started and she rolled her eyes.

"You're right, I'm sorry, Comfort sex. Is that better? Because perfect Miss Elizabeth wouldn't stoop to having revenge sex with my fiancé while she's married. I'm the slut and she's the angel. Must have really gotten you off fucking us both. The bad girl and the good girl? You really get around don't' you Jason?"

"That's uncalled for," he answered, "And Elizabeth hasn't done anything to you for you to call her names or for you to degrade yourself."

"So sleeping with my fiancée isn't cause for anger toward her."

"Be angry with me Sam, you have every right. But Elizabeth isn't the reason why we're angry, not really."

"You keep telling yourself that," she shot back, "When I think of the times that she's 'advised' me on you," she broke off, furious, "When she's been waiting to climb into bed with you. The look on Lucky's face," she paused wiping the tears off her face, "He didn't even know his wife was pregnant, let alone that you might be the father.

"You told him?"

"He had a right to know," she spat out, "Just like I had a right to know what you and Elizabeth have been whispering about."

"I can't do this," he turned to walk away, but she grabbed his arm. "Sam, let's not do this, before one of us says something that can't be taken back."

"We've already said and done things that can't be taken back Jason. Only now all the dirty little secrets are being dragged into the light of day. Liz is pregnant and you could be the father. And I guess you think I'm going to play step mommy? Guess I kind of owe you since you were willing to play Daddy for me right?"

That's when he walked away and how he ended up here on the docks. Stunned to find Lucky assaulting his wife. His pregnant wife.

His first instinct was to protect.

The brief fight was mean and nasty. Lucky had his police training but Jason was exactly the man everyone said he was.

A killer.

He didn't pause, didn't falter, didn't excuse.

It didn't matter that Lucky was an addict.

It didn't matter that he had slept with this man's wife.

It didn't matter that he was probably the reason for their fight.

All that mattered was the red haze of fury that blinded him when he saw the smear of blood on Elizabeth's mouth.

In the chaos there was a soft scream, a rush of foot steps and he felt strong hands pulling him off. Then there was a small crowd. Sam had followed him and was standing to the side with a look of shocked betrayal on her face. Probably couldn't have imagined her actions would have these consequences. Lucky pulled himself to shaky feet, wavering as blood seeped from his mouth and nose, with several bruises and contusions over his face. He held his arm tight against his side, indicated either injury to his ribs or his kidney, Jason couldn't tell, didn't care.

Hoped he was pissing blood for the next month.

Emily and Nikolas were standing behind him, horrified by the scene unfolding before them and evidently Nikolas was the person who pulled him off Lucky.

"You slept with my wife and got her pregnant." Lucky managed through a mouth that was swelling.

Jason looked at Lucky, then Sam. Felt his hand throb and glanced down at the trail of blood that seeped from his knuckles to drop onto the wooden planks of the docks. His eyes were drawn to the smaller spattered drops of blood that led to the woman who had done nothing but been his friend.

Catch him when he was falling.

He leaned over and scooped her into his arms, feeling a tremor rush through her body as she curled into him, seeking comfort. Safety. Sanctuary from the man who was supposed to honor and keep her. "Yeah, I did."

Elizabeth looked into his eyes, a question there, because neither of them knew for certain who the father of her child was. Yet in this moment it didn't matter.

It was simple really.

"It doesn't matter if I'm the father or not," he said and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll stand by you if you need me."