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Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Four: UndoneLuke's. The place is empty, closed early, everyone sent home. The silence of the room is interrupted by a sudden and raucous explosion of music blasting from the speakers at mind-blowing volume. Luke comes into the main room of the bar, walking slowly, in contrast to the hard beat of the music. He stops in the middle of the room and surveys it, in confusion, as if he has no idea how he got here.
I feel guilt, I feel guilt, The woman's voice is worn, strained… showing the signs of years of abuse at the hands of alcohol and cigarettes. There's something real about it. Raw and honest. It's strangely comforting. Luke turns a slow circle in the center of the room and looks back at the bar. The place, only a few months earlier, he could reliably find his son… counting change and marking time… It feels distant now. And dark. He frowns deeply, staring off into space.
I feel bad, so bad, Heading behind the bar, Luke grabs a tumbler, and expertly slides it along the counter as he ducks under the bar and produces a bottle of extremely expensive Scotch. He puts it down on the counter next to the glass, then hunches forward, gripping the brass bar along the back of the bar with both hands, supporting his entire weight and dropping his head.
I never lied to my lover,
If I could get away with murder Giving his head a hard shake, he straightens up and picks up the bottle, twisting off the cap, and pouring a double, with flourish. He puts the bottle back on the counter without capping it again, and picks up the glass, lifting it and taking a moment to breath in the aroma, letting his eyes close.
I never gave to the rich, In a quick motion, Luke tips his head back and lets the liquid burn down his throat, the smoke and fruit of the taste flooding his mouth.
I'm like a curious child, give me more, The phone rings. Luke doesn't even glance on it, his eyes fixing on a spot on the floor in front of the bar. After several rings he picks up the bottle in one hand and carries and his glass back around the bar and into his office. The music is muffled only slightly, and he sinks with great fatigue into his chair.
I feel blood, I feel blood, Closing his eyes, the images come upon him again. This time, he doesn't fight them. Embraces them. Tries to bring them closer to him. Words echoing, flashes of anger, eyes shedding tears. The venom in his son's voice, the anger and recrimination in his wife's… Lulu's wide-eyed, lip trembling pleas… The pictures of family life. He sits forward and tops up his drink.
I never stole a scarf from Harrods,
I never stole a doll from Lovecraft, Luke slides back in the chair, slinging his long legs up onto the desk and holding his glass against his chest, eyes falling closed again.
Guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt
A campsite. This time, sheltered by a gentle incline and extending only a few meters, across the path, before the sharp drop off the of the cliff. Emily is crouched down, building a fire. She's nearly done, having built thin twigs gathered from under surrounding Cyprus trees, mixed with paper and dried leaves that Nikolas had collected. She lights a match. Nikolas, out of some amount of boredom and an ill conceived comment to Emily, has taken out the ball of twine, cutting off a length with Lucky's penknife and tying it. He and Emily have, for the past fifteen minutes, been playing a continually more complicated game of cat's cradle. Nikolas looks down at his hands and shakes his head. Nik: I fear I have taken a tragic misstep. (Emily smiles wanly, dropping the match down on top of the paper she's torn from her journal.) Em: I think that's my problem. (Nikolas looks up, and holds his hands out to her) Nik: Then kindly relieve me of this. (Emily, seeing the edge of the paper catch, frowns at the fire, not certain she's done good. The paper curls up, and the flame reaches the leaves, continuing to burn. She looks over at Nikolas, then steps carefully over the fire pit, towards him. She crouches down next to him, glancing at the cradle.) Em: Oh, I know this one. I know it, it's…(She stops, examining the crisscrossing of string). Ok, you… (she reaches over and hooks both her pinky fingers under sections and pulls them free slightly, then stops) Wait. (she looks at the entangled hands and string in confusion.) Ok… (she starts to laugh) Wait. Nik: Oh, great… Em: (still laughing) No, I know this. I swear, you just… (She stops, laughing again) don't worry. We'll find a way out. Nik: (deadpan) There is no way out. We're trapped. Em: Thanks, Nikolas. Just what I was looking for: A metaphor. (She tries again, but the string is irredeemably tangled. As she pulls it from Nikolas' fingers it crumples and she sighs, looking at him) Oops. Nik: Somehow that doesn't fill me with hope. (Emily gives Nikolas a sincere and fond smile. She'd forgotten, long since been able to give actual reasons for why she liked Nikolas. This was part of it. He was strangely willing to be silly. Though you had to look long and hard to see it. She settles down beside him and starts threading her fingers through the twine at square one again) Em: Then we'll try again. Stop being so gloomy. Nik: That's an order? Em: Yep. (Emily concentrates on her hands, trying to ignore the irritating pain in her side. She'd done alright… really alright… for the first five miles or something. She'd always been big on hiking, it was something she and Lucky used to do all the time. She just told herself that this was a pleasure walk… that was all. She refused to think about what was going to happen when they got where they were going. Nikolas watches her carefully, his eyes drinking in everything. This whole trip has shifted his perspective of her. Probably assisted by the fact that it's shifted her perspective of herself. But he can't help but notice that there is something odd about the way she's moving. Her breath is just a little too careful, her movements a little slow. If she's in pain, though, it's not registering on her face) Nik: Are you ok? (Emily looks up at him) Em: Yeah. Why wouldn't I be? (Nikolas just looks at her) Oh, not you too. Nik: It's not that outrageous a question. Em: I'm really, really ok. (She crosses her legs, and settles down onto the ground, abandoning her string.) Thanks for the help with the fire. It makes me a little less… I don't know. Nik: It makes it easier for Lucky to find us. Em: Yeah. That. (She smiles slightly, glancing down the path again) How long have we been here now? Nik: Around forty-five minutes. Em: (distantly) He's faster than I am, so… It'll probably take him less time, don't you think? Nik: He has a lot farther to go. Em: Yeah… (Nikolas narrows his eyes at her a minute) Nik: You miss him that much? (Emily looks over at Nikolas sharply, then laughs in a short burst) Em: No! No, it's not that… It's… I think I feel better when we're all in the same place. I can't tell you how completely loopy I'd be going if I'd let Lucky go off on this whole thing alone. Nik: Yeah, I think I can assure you… that would be true across the board. Em: He can manage without me. (Nikolas looks at her oddly) Nik: You think so. Em: Yeah, I know so. (She looks at Nikolas' expression) What? (Nikolas hesitates a long moment, deciding how much he wants to say. He's still adjusting, his brain still exploring the things that he's come to understand since sunrise. One thing that's been dawning on him is Emily's place in all this. She cared for him so much. That much had been obvious when she'd cleared the smoke of the car and seen that Lucky was going back. The look on her face… Nikolas had grabbed her without even thinking about it, and she hadn't even noticed. It wasn't like some part of her took over when he was in danger, when she saw him go back, some part of her just moved to follow. He was certain, by how surprised she was to find out she was being restrained, that she hadn't even made the decision. It wasn't particularly rational… But then Lucky wasn't rational about her either. Nikolas looks back at the fire, picking up a stick and idly twisting it in his fingers) Nik: You didn't see him after the accident. (Emily feels herself go cold. She's not entirely certain what to say about that.) Em: (quietly) Was he ok? Nik: No. He was about as not ok as I've ever seen him. (Nikolas frowns) Which, if you think about it, is pretty not “ok”. Em: He told me… He said you were there. And you told him not to touch me or move me or anything. And that he had a concussion. Nik: That was all he said? Em: (slowly) Yeah… Is there more? (Nikolas continues to study the stick. Odd. Lucky, for all his anger and bitterness, certainly doesn't part with information easily) Nik: He doesn't exactly talk about much, does he? Em: Lucky? No, he's kinda 'live by action'. I mean, he talks, but sometimes… (she laughs a bit) Ok, let me put it this way. If you guys don't have any deep conversations? It's not you. You have to know Lucky for… Like, EVER. And you can't make it happen, either. He either decides to tell you something, or he doesn't. And I might have more tricks for getting him to talk than anyone else, but believe me,… it's usually a hard won victory. Nik: (shaking his head) Why is he LIKE that? (Emily looks over at him, surprised) I mean… What makes him that way? You know what the one thing I've really started to figure out through this whole thing? Over time, over years or whatever, as long as Lucky and I have to deal with each other… I might get to know him better, I might know more about him… but understanding him… That's a whole other thing. There's stuff I should know about him that I don't even have a clue about. And there's not any way to find out. I can't ask him… he'd have a fit. So what am I supposed to do? Talk to my mother? She gets so tense when he comes up. She gets this look on her face like disaster is just around the corner. Em: (nodding) And she talks just a little too fast and her hands fly around just a bit? Nik: Exactly! Em: So I guess she's not like that all the time? Nik: Well. I make her nervous too, so… Sometimes. Every once in awhile, no. Em: She pretty much always is like that with me. Or at least lately… Not that I've seen her since… What? Christmas? (Emily frowns) I guess she's scared. Nik: I guess. (He glares bitterly at the fire) I've been trying to figure out how she let this happen. Em: Well, join the club. (she looks over at Nikolas, realizing she just assumed he knew what he meant) Uh… Nikolas? Nik: Yeah? Em: Let what happen? Nik: This. You know. Lucky. How she let him… (he shakes his head) It's so stupid. My whole life I was told… (he looks at Emily pointedly) REPEATEDLY… about my mother. And the choice she made. The choice to leave me. And when I went back… When I met her? It was just a whole series of little choices that made the big one seem… Inevitable. It was a mantra. “Laura will always put Luke and Lucky first”. I'm surprised Mrs. Lansberry wasn't embroidering it on pillows. (Emily laughs in spite of herself) Em: I'm sorry. No, really. That wasn't funny. Nik: No. It is. It's really sad. But that was the center point of my life. It was this: I'm a prince, people fall all over me, I can have anything I want… But I can't have my mother. (he exhales) I'm sorry. I'm trying not to care about that stuff. I mean.. I'm trying to… (He closes his eyes) One thing I wanted to see, just once… I wanted to see if she'd ever put me first. (He opens his eyes and stares at the fire a long moment) And she did. And the really twisted part is… I'm not happy about it. Em: Not even… A little? Nik: There is a mild sense of vindication but it's heavily overshadowed by the fact that I've helped ruin my brother's life. Em: (shaking her head) No. NO, you didn't do that. This was set up… It's like… (She takes a deep breath, running a hand through her hair) Everything Lucky learned his whole life… That said “do this”. But everything he learned his whole life said he was a horrible… (she stops, realizing she's saying a bit too much. Nikolas nods slowly) Nik: I know. I finally get it, Emily. You said to look at the “why”, and I have. (he looks at her, his mask of bitterness crashing without warning. Emily is thrown by how suddenly vulnerable he looks) I think I understand it… (his voice shakes slightly) But I need someone to say it. (Nikolas struggles a long moment before he manages to get the words out) He did it for me. (Emily stares at him, her eyes wide. After a moment, she nods. Nikolas flinches) He was protecting me from… Everything. But I'm… (he takes a deep breath) A Cassadine. And he's supposed to try to destroy me. So… Em: You're his brother. (She reaches out and takes Nikolas' hand) You are. He just… No one ever told him that was ok. Nik: (tightly) Including me. I never… I never tried. Not hard enough. Em: Nikolas… Nik: I didn't know. I didn't know he'd… (He looks at her) I still don't understand it. I don't understand why, I just understand… What it did to him. And God, I'm sorry… but I don't know how to… (He bows his head, getting much closer to tears than he wants to in front of Emily. His chest constricts hard, painfully. He knows who he should be having this conversation with. For the first time in weeks, he feels the pain, the overwhelming loss, begin to bubble up inside him. He struggles with his breath, trying to beat it back down again. He has no time for this. He needs to stay strong. He needs to do what he came here to do. And he needs to stop anything from annihilating the one person he can honestly say is fighting for him now. And why does that provide no comfort? He wants to push it away, to make it all stop. He never asked for this. He wouldn't have asked for it. But Lucky and Laura and Stefan… And all of them. They made these decisions without him. They left him in the dark. And now he has to deal, not just with the consequences of the secret, but with what that secret did to other people. It feels like too much. Too much guilt and anger to handle. And he can't even look at his brother and say what he's feeling without having it be met with a cold wall of indifference… or the variable. Vicious anger. The hole inside him seems to expand. The loss of Hannah mixed with this rage at the distance… The complete impossibility that he will ever truly know Lucky as anything more than his mother's other son. His adversary. His replacement. Not his brother. Only a brother by words. He feels a hand on his back, gently rubbing his shoulders. God, Emily… What the hell was this poor girl doing here? What were they going to end up doing to her? He feels her lean against him, and his throat tightens again, so that he can't speak, can't move, can't do anything be close his eyes and hope this feeling fades before it pulls him right down into the pits of hell with it.) Em: (quietly) You're both better than you think you are. (Nikolas squeezes his eyes shut. He can't take comfort from her. It feels, in all way, wrong. She's Lucky's. He needs her. And the amount of pain Nikolas is feeling right now, he's certain he could use up everything she has to give and still be left empty. Better just to hold it all. Better just to get through this in one piece and make sure Lucky does too. He'd do it, some how. There has to be a way. Nikolas sits up quickly, pulling away from her. He brushes away a few escaped tears with the back of his hand, and focuses on the fire again, refusing to look at her). Nik: I think… I'm going to take a walk.
Luke's Carly: Luke? (Carly stops in front of the door, and looks behind her. She knows it's closed. The sign is off, a sure sign, but there is simply nowhere else for her uncle to be. She checks the door behind her, out of concern, then turns, staring into the dark club.) Luke, come on. You gotta be here, the door was open. (She stops and listens. She can hear, very distantly, the scratchy sounds of a record being played in the back of the club. She breathes a sigh of relief. And moves towards the office, bumping against a chair on her way. She swears and rubs her hip, moving towards a thin ray of light she can now see under the door. She reaches the door and pauses, recognizing the voice of the woman on the record, vintage Billie Holiday. She frowns, feeling slightly out of place, then opens the door. Luke has his eyes closed, sit reclining in his chair, having made an alarming dent in the Scotch. Carly stares at what she sees, the lack of color in his face, the trail of unchecked tears that have run down his face. She's not certain if he's awake or asleep. The whole image alarms her. Carly: Luke. (Her uncle lets out a sigh that seems to come from his bones, and opens his eyes, looking up at her, without reaction) Luke: Caroline. Carly: I… I wanted to see if you're alright. (Luke nods, in subconscious rhythm to the beat of the music. He doesn't answer. After a moment, Carly takes a careful seat across from him) I'm sorry, Luke. (he still doesn't respond). I've been trying to figure out what I'd think… You know, fifteen years down the road, with Michael. (She cringes, aware that was weak) I know… It's not the same. And I can't understand. I just… Freeze. I can't even think… (She sighs) Ok, I'm just trying to think about it being Lucky… (She looks up at him, tentative) I love him, you know. Luke: I know. Carly: (carefully) Jason was just treated Lucky like an adult. I've done the same thing. So have you, if you really think about it. Luke: If you're asking me to let go, I can't. Carly: No. Actually… I wanted to make sure you're not. Because… No one should ever walk around thinking the stuff he must be right now. Not if it's not true. Luke: I'm going to find him. Carly: I know. (She takes a deep breath) But you're doing it without me. This is my stop. I have a son, I have… A life, in my own way. I can't help you anymore. Luke: Jason. Carly: No. It's not that. It's not, Luke. I… I don't know what that was. I don't know what… Happens next. But… Luke: You did good, Caroline. In the end… You came through. Carly: I… I had to. I owe Lucky this. And… I don't like the idea of anyone thinking their parents don't want them around, you know? (Luke looks at her, as levelly as possible. He nods, gravely) So. What does that mean for us, huh? Do I get my credit? Luke: (smiling a little) Do I owe you now? Carly: (rolling her eyes) Please. You probably think this was all just pay back for you not killing me. No. (She looks at him) Just an even playing field. Luke: Free and clear, sweetheart. Carly: I'll hold you to that. (She smiles at him, sadly) Don't drink too much. Luke: Too late. Carly: Well, ok. Just… Promise me you'll get up tomorrow ready to kick ass on the world. I got my illusions, you know? One of them is that you're the most dangerous man alive. And that you always get what you want. Luke: Good night, Caroline. (Carly smiles at him. She leans over and lays a quick kiss on his forehead) Carly: Good night. (She gets up and turns to the door) Do that sleeping thing at some point, huh? Luke: Got ya. (Carly opens the door and nearly runs into Alexis standing outside and just about to burst in. Alexis stumbles slightly, in shock and stares at her. She looks at Alexis, frowning, then back at Luke who gives a long sigh and leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Carly turns back to Alexis. She smiles, then punches the woman on the shoulder) Carly: Tag. You're it. See ya around, Uncle Luke. (Carly glides past Alexis, smiling slightly. Alexis looks after her vexed, then turns to Luke, monumentally pissed off) Alexis: Hi. Remember me? Author's Note: The song in this chapter is called “guilt” and it was written by Barry Reynolds. But the best version recorded (trust me on this) is by Marianne Faithful, and that would be the version I have stuck in my head for eternity.
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