Chapter One Hundred Thirty:
The Power of the Press

The Loony Laundry, Downtown Niagara Falls.

Nearing six o'clock, the next afternoon. Emily sits on the table of the laundry, mindlessly folding clothes while she studies a very bright, badly painted, mural of a Loon floating over the Falls. The Loon is not to scale, dwarfing the landscape, and doesn't seem particularly distraught about its impending death plunge. Lucky is standing a few feet away, deep in thought, staring at the window in the dryer. The place is empty except for a very bored looking attendant, listening to a Walkman and reading a People Magazine behind the counter. As Emily folds, she alternately watches the attendant, then Lucky. She's feeling completely detached from her surroundings. It's great to be out of the motel room… that she's been looking forward to. But somehow she still can't feel happy. She looks back at Lucky who is still staring at the dryer like it's beyond fascinating. He won't look at her. Not for more than a minute before he finds some sort of distraction. The whole thing is making her incredibly tense. For the last twenty-four hours or so she's been battling this feeling of wanting, really desperately, to cry. And she can't for the life of her figure out why, because is doesn't feel like it's about anything other than feeling “off”, feeling like something is missing, or lost, and she can't even figure out what it is. She clears her throat, and speaks, keeping her voice quiet.

Em: I still can't believe how deserted this place is. (Lucky snaps out of his study of the drying clothes and looks back at her)

Lucky: Diner hour on a Sunday? Yeah, this is where I'd be hanging out. (Their tone is one of confidentiality, even when emphasizing words, so that the conversation doesn't float over the sound of the machines and the TV that is on, low, in the background.)

Em: (half-joking) Is this planned, or something?

Lucky: Planned?

Em: (rolling her eyes) You know, like how everything you do has some convoluted reasoning behind it. Is there some reason no one should see us do laundry? (Lucky smiles, a slight air of cockiness to him).

Lucky: I don't know. We have four hours to kill and you can finally walk a passably straight line. Besides, it never hurts to keep a low profile.

Em: Probably not. (She sighs, and drops the shirt she was folding onto the table in a heap.) So now what? We get our stuff from the motel and hit our choice of four wax museums until the train leaves?

Lucky: (confused) Could you actually handle a place like that?

Em: Probably not, but that has nothing to do with the car accident. (She leans back on the counter, supporting herself with her arms) I'm just so phenomenally unimpressed with the world right now, I can't get excited about anything. It's like I've caught this pervasive apathy virus and no matter what I come up with, it's not interesting.

Lucky: Not up for New York, huh?

Em: (heavily) New York with a headache. Sounds like a blast. Besides, WHAT are we supposed to do there? I mean, besides see Nikolas. (Lucky shrugs and takes over Emily's abandoned folding. She looks down at the dingy linoleum and kicks her feet back and forth, thoughtfully.) Actually seeing Nikolas is a pretty good thing. I mean, it gives me a focus.

Lucky: Why?

Em: I don't know. I barely talked to him after the hospital… and… Well. You know. (Lucky says nothing a moment. Emily seems to have a wall about ten feet thick around her and he's not sure she wants to get into this).

Lucky: Hannah.

Em: Yeah. (They fall into silence. Emily sits up again and takes the shirt Lucky is rolling up from him) Don't fold like that.

Lucky: It saves space.

Em: Everything gets wrinkled. It gets wrinkled when you fold regularly too, but people are, like, forgiving of that. Like it proves you did SOMETHING with your clothes.

Lucky: (appraising her) You're right. You do need some kind of focus.

Em: (with frustration) I just don't want to be so BORED all the time. I want to get excited again. I want something to hap… (She stops, the televisions catching her eye)… pen. Oh, God. (Lucky glances over his shoulder to the TV, then stops at the sight of the square in the corner of the screen over the newscaster’s head. Emily feels like she's floating, any sensation of weight leaving her completely, except for a hard and heavy sensation in the pit of her stomach. The sound is very low, and they can barely make it out over the noise of the one dryer operating. Lucky just freezes, taking in the familiar photograph of Edward. He's in “tycoon” pose, the photograph that probably accompanies letters to stockholders and other ELQ notables. He feels Emily reach out and grab his arm tightly. Her voice drops down to a terrified whisper) Oh… God!

Lucky: Shhh. (They both strain, while trying to look natural, to hear the Television. The attendant continues flipping through her magazine, not looking up.)

Irv Weinstein (sorry, I had to):… Held a press conference earlier this hour to send out a plea to his runaway granddaughter to return home to her family. The girl, Emily Bowen Quartermaine, disappeared last week from a Port Charles hospital. (The camera cuts to the conference, held, apparently, in the lobby of the Port Charles Hotel).

Ed: (very sincere) Five days ago my Granddaughter, Emily… A beautiful, caring, talented young woman… Was taken from her hospital bed. She had been in an accident and was in need of medical care. Medical care that she is being denied! Every day that she is away from the doctors necessary for her recovery, she puts herself in more danger. Now… For that reason, I simply could not stand idly by and wait for her to return of her own volition. No. This is too important. (Looks directly into the camera) Emily. We love you. We know things haven't been to your liking at home, but please… (Slight tears, a nice touch, appear in his eyes) It's not the same without the sound of your laugh. (Emily's eyes widen. Laugh? When was the last time she laughed in that house? Lucky stares at the screen, his face grim).

Irv: The family suspects that Miss. Quartermaine is travelling with her boyfriend, Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Jr., who is currently wanted for questioning by police in a murder investigation in Port Charles, New York. (A picture, taken at the ill-fated prom the year before, appears on the screen. Lucky winces and turns away, his back to the attendant. Emily stares at the screen, her face turning bright red). Spencer is 18, approaching six feet in height, and is considered by police to likely be armed and dangerous. (Lucky looks back at the screen in undisguised surprise. Emily swallows hard, and looks at the attendant, still completely oblivious) Police have not commented on whether or not Spencer is being charged with kidnapping, or if THEY believe his disappearance is linked with the disappearance of Miss. Quartermaine. They have agree, however, to field information regarding the whereabouts of the couple. If you have seen either or these youngsters, you can contact the PCPD at the number at the bottom of your screen… (The news goes on. Lucky, shaken, looks at Emily who still has a vice grip on his arm. She's staring at the floor, in shocked outrage.)

Lucky: Em?

Em: (quietly) I… I will kill him. One day we're going to go back to Port Charles and I swear, I'll hurt him so bad he'll never want me to come home again. He'll probably buy me the plane ticket the next time I runaway.

Lucky: Emily.

Em: I can't believe he'd do this. (She stares down at the ground a long moment, then looks back at the television. Lucky puts his hand to the side of her face and forces her to look at him)

Lucky: (voice low but demanding) We've got to get out of here. Now. (Emily nods, numbly)

Em: Help me get down. (Lucky pulls her off the counter and slides her onto the floor. Emily turns immediately and starts stuffing the unfolded clothes back into the bag. She doesn't look at the attendant, but her heart begins to race. She tries to remind herself continually that the woman didn't look up, didn't notice. They're ok. They're safe. Everything will be fine. Even as she repeats this to herself, her hands begin to shake. Lucky appears beside her, dumping the not-quite-dry clothes from the dryer on the counter beside the bag. Emily, without giving it a moment's thought, quickly zips up her bag and dumps it on the floor, then begins to stuff the other clothes into Lucky's bag without looking up. There is almost a field of energy pulsing off of her. Lucky glances at the still-occupied attendant, then looks back at Emily)

Lucky: Are you ok? (Emily nods, numbly. She wants to scream, suddenly, but just presses her lips together tightly. What? Was this not complicated enough already? Why had he done it? Why hadn't Jason or Monica stopped him? Why did her family have to mess EVERYTHING up? Lucky comes up behind her and puts his hand on her shoulder. She doesn't turn around, throwing the clothes into the bag, not bothering to sort which are Lucky's, which are hers. Not that she can see clearly through the tears of anger and frustration that are blurring her sight. She feels Lucky's arms move around her and pulls her against him. She turns and buries herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. She holds him so tightly it interferes with his breathing capabilities, but Lucky doesn't move. He just stays in the embrace a long moment before finally whispering to her).

Lucky: It's going to work out. (Emily lets out a long, ragged breath, and disengages herself from the clinch.)

Em: I know. (She turns and picks up one of the bags) Let's get out of here.

Spoon Island, the Stone Bench (oh, you KNEW I had to do it eventually)

Nikolas sits on the bench, staring out at the lake intently. He's been out here an hour now, deep in thought. He's feeling confident about what he's trying to do… how Stefan and Luke reacted to each other and what this will mean to him. But getting out of Port Charles is only half the battle. After that he has to talk to Lucky. From that point on, nothing can be predicted. Besides. Concerning himself with these details are providing much needed distraction. They are important enough to convince other parts of his brain to simply be silenced. He doesn't have time to focus on other things.

Nikolas glances up at the sound of someone approaching on the path. The dark clothing, along with the familiar elegant glide tips him off to the party's identity. He turns and looks out at the lake, appropriately moody.

Stefan: (coming up behind him) I should have known I would find you here.

Nik: Why's that?

Stefan: It's always been where you prefer to think. Outdoors, at the edge of a sharp drop. (Nikolas smiles to himself)

Nik: (quietly) Like father, like son. (Stefan regards Nikolas, then returns the smile, taking this as an invitation to sit down beside him).

Stefan: You've been very quiet today.

Nik: I'm running out of things to say.

Stefan: (with a familiar tone) Nikolas, I assure you, that was Luke Spencer's final…

Nik: (quietly) Uncle. (Stefan stops, the quality of Nikolas' voice causing him concern) There is no “final” with Luke Spencer. We both know that. (Nikolas slumps forward, his elbows on his knees). I'll give Grandmother this much… at least she leaves from time to time.

Stefan: (putting a hand on Nikolas' shoulder) Nikolas.

Nik: (getting tense) Even is he never steps foot on this island again… I can't escape him. He's everywhere.

Stefan: I understand how difficult this is for you.

Nik: Sometimes understanding isn't enough. (Stefan's face darkens).

Stefan: (intensely) Then what will be? (Nikolas stares hard at the water).

Nik: I'm just… I'm tired. I can't even remember why I'm here anymore. And now Luke… He's saying he doesn't want me to see Lulu anymore. (He laughs bitterly.) Am I supposed to believe that Laura would fight him on that? Lulu's only five years old. She can still forget me.

Stefan: No, Nikolas.

Nik: Maybe it would be better that way.

Stefan: Nikolas! (Nikolas turns to him, pained)

Nik: I don't have it in me anymore! Do you understand that? This whole week, just going through the motions has taken all I have in me. I get up, I get dressed, I go riding… I come down to diner and eat what's put in front of me. But it's not real. (Stefan nods, empathetic. Nikolas turns to look out at the lake again. For several minutes there is no sound outside of the wind in the trees. When Nikolas speaks again, his voice is distant and intangible) I miss her. Nobody even knew about us. And now… Now it's almost like it never happened. I don't have any proof. I don't even have a photograph. It's like it was all something in my imagination. And how do you mourn that? (Stefan stands up abruptly and walks to the edge of the cliff. Nikolas is startled by this, then it dawns on him) You know what I'm talking about, don't you?

Stefan: (stubbornly) Katherine and I were married. It is different from your situation.

Nik: I'm not talking about Katherine. (Long silence. Stefan does not turn around. Nikolas realizes his boldness has landed him in unexplored territory, decides to press the topic.) We've never talked about Laura. Not really. (Stefan says nothing) Do you want to know what she said to me?

Stefan: (quickly) No. (He takes a deep breath, then turns back to Nikolas) No. I prefer to leave that part of my life where it belongs: In the past.

Nik: How can it be in the past when I'm here? (Stefan opts to interpret this question as rhetorical. He stares hard at the ground, forcing himself to return to the task at hand. More brick walls. It never changes) I've been sitting here and looking out at the lake and thinking, “I hate this lake”. Or I can go to the other side of the island, down to the docks and look out at Port Charles and think, “I HATE that town”. I don't want to be here anymore.

Stefan: Do you want to go back to the compound?

Nik: No. No… I don't want to go back to some place where I lived with her. I want to be some place I can turn around and Luke Spencer won't be breathing down my neck. Where Helena won't be lurking around every corner. And… Someplace where Hannah never was. (He falls into silence, recalling his last conversation with her. He pushes down a painful lump in his throat) I was going to take her to Greece. We talked about that…

Stefan: What are you saying Nikolas?

Nik: I'm saying I have to get away! From Laura and the Spencers, from all the memories of Hannah, some place where Helena won't find me.

Stefan: There is no such place.

Nik: There has to be some way… How can it be impossible? We're Cassadines.

Stefan: That's precisely why it IS impossible. (He leans closer to Nikolas, who reluctantly meets his gaze) We need to stay together, Nikolas.

Nik: I can't stay “together”! Not HERE. (Stefan leans back, confused by Nikolas' sudden and unapologetic vulnerability.)

Stefan: (firmly) You will. I know you, you will persevere.

Nik: (emotionally) If you truly mourned Katherine… if some part of your heart died with her…

Stefan: It did! I did mourn her, I mourn her still!

Nik: (searching his face) Then you know. You KNOW. I loved her. She made everything make sense. And now… It I don't have her and I don't have Lulu… And my mother is more concerned with what Luke thinks of her than what happens to me… I can handle that. I can know Hannah's dead. And I can know that Luke will wreck havoc and still have my mother's love at the end of it. And he will go home at night and he will sit with my sister on his knee and poison her mind against me… I can live with that. But I don't have to watch it happen.

Stefan: (unsteadily) You're safest here.

Nik: From Helena, maybe. But not from myself. (Stefan stares at Nikolas, not believing what he just heard come out of his mouth. Before he has time to react, Alexis appears on the path behind them)

Alexis: I've been looking for you two everywhere! (Nikolas and Stefan both turn to face her) I think you'll want to come back to the house. You're not going to believe what Edward Quartermaine has done.

The Quartermaine Mansion.

Monica storms down the stairs, beyond angry, closely followed by Alan. Reginald comes from the back of the house.

Monica: WHERE IS HE?

Reg: He's not…

Monica: I swear to God, I'm going to wring his neck!

Alan: Monica!

Monica: I don't want to hear it! If you say one word to say in that man's defense, you'll be sleeping in the rose garden on a bed of thorns!

Alan: I'm NOT defending him!

AJ: (coming out of the living room) What's going on here?

Monica: Your Grandfather has finally gone TOO FAR!

AJ: Mom.

Monica: I told him. I told ALL of you why this was the WORST thing that could possibly happen, and WHAT does he go and do?

Alan: Monica!

Monica: WHAT?

Alan: Calm down.

Monica: (hitting his arm) Oh, you calm down! How can even suggest something like that? (The doorbell rings) Calm down? I WAS calm. I was as calm as any parent who didn't have the slightest clue where her daughter is could have been! And you know why? Because I knew she wouldn't run too far unless THE POLICE OF HALF THE STATE AND ANY NUMBER OF PEOPLE WERE LOOKING FOR HER! (Doorbell sounds again)

Alan: All I'm saying is… yes, this isn't ideal…

Monica: Ideal!

Alan: GOOD GOD, will you let me finish? (Doorbell. Reginald tries to move around the couple, but fails) I'm trying to say that NO, I wouldn't have chosen for things to happen this way, but maybe now that they have…

Monica: (accusing) Did you know about this?

Alan: No! Of course not, I agree with you… this is a disaster! But it might not be the end of the world… (The doorbell sounds again, this time repeatedly, one hit after another, over and over and over again. The Quartermaines all become aware of this and turn to stare at the door).

Monica: I don't even want to know.

Reg: I'll just get that. (Reginald pulls open the door and is met with Laura Spencer, who is standing on the stoop. Her eyes are fiery, and she looks like a woman not to be trifled with.)

Laura: (very tense) I'd like to have a word with Edward Quartermaine.

Reg: I'm afraid he's not here… (Laura spots Alan and Monica in the foyer. She pushes past Reginald without a second thought and crosses to them)

Laura: WHAT the hell is going on here? Are you trying to get them killed? Or maybe just arrested? Or just make ABSOLUTE sure that they never come back home EVER?

Monica: Laura…

Laura: No, please explain this to me. Please explain how you let them vilify my son on… Well, if not national, than at LEAST statewide television. They made him sound like some sort of criminal!

Monica: We knew nothing about this! And believe me, I understand exactly how upset you are.

Laura: (beginning to shake) They called him “armed and dangerous”. Armed? Dangerous? This is Lucky for God's sake!

Monica: They didn't get that from us.

Laura: (beginning to rant) All this is really succeeded in doing is making everything more complicated, ensuring that they have to move further, and that it will be a lot harder for them to find people to help them! It's not going to bring them home! It's just going to make them easier to find! Don't you realize that? They aren't here because they were in DANGER here! (Monica looks absolutely stricken. Alan a little more skeptical, but still not liking what this woman has to say).

Monica: (sinking into the chair at the bottom of the stairs) Laura… What do you think Lucky will do?

Laura: If I did do you think I'd tell you? Wouldn't you all just turn it around and try to use it against him?

AJ: (by far the calmest) Laura, my Grandfather acted alone in this.

Laura: (skeptically) So did Lee Harvey Oswald. The effect is still the same.

Monica: I swear to you, Laura, I'm just as angry as you are! Just please… I have to know what… I just have to know if Lucky can handle this.

Laura: He can handle it… that's not the problem.

Monica: Then what is?

Laura: Well, wherever he is, he's going to move again! And that can't be good for Emily. She'd just be recovering, wouldn't she? (Monica nods) They probably weren't that far from here. But now…

AJ: Who knows where they'll go. (Monica, feeling like she's being pulled on the end of a yo-yo string, stands up again)

Monica: We have to talk about this, and this isn't the place. (She looks at Laura) You look like you could use a drink. And so could I. (Laura shakes her head, at a loss. She hasn't given much thought to why she came here… only that it was the only thing she could think of to do when she heard the news on the radio. Monica turns and walks into the living room, and Laura, looking from Alan to AJ, decides to follow).

Laura: Is Edward HERE?

Reg: (following) He hasn't returned from the hotel yet.

Monica: And if he knows what's good for him, he'll be spending the night there.

Laura: And you didn't know about any of this? This whole… Press conference?

Monica: (laughing ironically) No. No, I didn't. This is above even MY expectations of how far he'd go!

AJ: He must have thought it was the right thing to do.

Monica: (sharply) AJ! I don't want to hear it. (She pours herself a drink, and turns to Laura.) Laura, do you have ANY clue what Lucky will do about this? (Laura shakes her head emphatically)

Laura: Lucky doesn't want anyone to find him. He'll be doing things his own way. That's the only thing I can say for certain.

Alan: So he's not in contact with you either.

Laura: No! No, of course not! (Laura's interrupted by a violent knocking/ pounding on the door. Reginald's shoulder's sag)

Reg: I'll just see to that. (He exits to the door. Laura, feeling a little less hysterical, turns back to Monica)

Laura: All I know is that Lucky left because he felt… No. He knew Emily was in danger.

Monica: Do you know what KIND of danger?

Laura: Well… (Laura is saved form admitting this part of the puzzle by Luke, who sweeps through the door, Reginald following half a step behind).

Luke: Ok! I wanna know what the hell is going on here.

Laura: (spinning around) Luke! (Luke stares at Laura, clearly thrown)

Luke: What are you doing here?

Laura: Same thing you are. Trying to find out how this happened! (Alan and Monica exchange a look, realizing that, for once, the Spencers acted separately in coming to the mansion.).

Luke: Making any headway?

Laura: (heavily) Well… Edward has taken it upon himself…

Luke: Edward. Yeah, I figured that much.

Monica: It was a unilateral decision. (Luke looks at her a long moment. He is frighteningly calm about all of this, but there is a threatening and violent energy that seems to be pulsing just under the surface. He turns and walks to the drink cart, pouring himself a bourbon)

Luke: Uh huh. And just what do you folks plan on doing about it now? (This comment is met with dead silence)

AJ: (hesitantly) There really isn't much we can do… (Luke turns around quickly)

Luke: (angrily) See! I knew that's what would be going through you people's minds! Make a big mess and leave it to clean itself up!

Alan: I'm not seriously getting lectured by Luke Spencer on social responsibility.

Luke: This ain't about society. This is about my son and what you people are going to do to fix this!

Monica: I have to agree with AJ… there's nothing we CAN do!

Luke: Well FIND something!

Alan: What do you expect Edward to do? Go on television and give a retraction? Tell everyone that Emily was just at the library and we got confused?

Luke: I don't CARE what he says. I don't care WHO believes him. The man's got more money than God, and he throws it around like it's going out of style! You're telling me with all that influence you can't make this go away?

Laura: Luke. (Luke continues to glare at Alan. He recognizes the tone in Laura's voice… it's not one of reprimand. She's trying to present a united front, and in this company, Luke has no desire to stop her. He sweeps a hand dismissively towards Alan and turns from him, walking across the room).

Luke: You got something to add?

Laura: Ohhhh, yes. (Laura takes a deep breath, and decides to direct her comments to Monica) Look. I understand that you all feel like you've been ambushed. But what has me concerned is that you don't understand that Lucky is not putting Emily in any danger! He's trying to save her!

Monica: From WHAT? Do you know that? Can you give us some sort of clue? (Laura frowns, then opens her mouth to answer).

Luke: (warning) Laura… (She looks over at him, pained)

Laura: Luke! How can we not? (Luke shakes his head, and turns away. He does not, however, make any move to stop her. Laura turns back to Monica, her voice recalcitrant) It looks as if Emily's aunt was murdered because… She was working for Helena Cassadine.

Alan: Good God!

Laura: (pressing on, though she's aware another crowd is turning on her) That's why Lucky left with her. You can't reason with Helena Cassadine, you can't, you can't…

AJ: Cassadine?

Laura: I can understand why this is upsetting.

Alan: Upsetting? You come in here railing against us because we've taken moves to get our daughter home and you're telling us that all of this happened because of this INSANE feud between your families! (Luke immediately moves between an irate Alan and Laura. He puts a hand against Alan's chest, pushing him back).

Luke: (cold as ice) Back off, Quartermaine.

Laura: (beginning to shake again, with emotion) This was NOT our choice! I'm sorry this happened, I'm as sorry as you can possibly imagine. But I can't believe for a second that any of this is going to change what has already happened! Helena has set out to use Emily as a mark… that must be it. And yes, that is probably because she fell in love with Lucky… But no one can really help that, can they? In addition to that, your family has decided to ignore the fact that for YEARS, Lucky has always had Emily's best interests at heart. (AJ, unable to stop himself, gives a derisive snort. Laura's eyes flash) How long have you people known Lucky? How many times has Emily been driven to the edge and she's come running to MY house? How many times has Lucky stopped her from doing something crazy? My GOD! I can't even count that high. So, no… I will not stand here and listen to my son be vilified for doing what he's always done… trying to keep your daughter safe! OR why it is OUR fault that Emily and Lucky are in trouble right now, because at this exact moment, the amount of trouble they are in… The depth of it, the scope… is not something that you can lie at my feet, or even Helena's! Lucky had a chance. He STILL has a chance… but only because he knows what he's doing, and only if no one else takes ONE MORE STEP to interfere with that, then you are putting your daughter's life and risk. And if it doesn't mean anything to you that you'd be putting Lucky's life at risk too, then I have nothing else to say to you.

Ed: (entering) It seems to me you've said plenty. And perhaps it's time for us to return the favor.

Author's Note: To clarify the Irv thing… there is, for some reason (Ok… a reason named Arica) a high concentration of readers of this story live in Buffalo. Irv is the news guy there… And I have no words to describe him. Except that the Goo Goo Dolls claim to watch him, (and GOD I got sick of that commercial). Anyway, Southern Ontario, upstate New York… you get a lot of Irv. I remember watching Irv when I was three or four and traumatized to find out that Commander Tom was, in reality, the weather guy and commander of absolutely nothing. (Sorry, another Buffalo reference) Basically, he's been around a long time. I think the first thing I said to A. when she told me she was from Buffalo was “Oh, yeah… We get your news. Irv Weinstein.”