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Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Two: Baggage
Cassadine Compound, Guest Quarters. Emily had rolled over, suppressing a groan at the stiffness in her muscles and blinked. "Uh...." Once the reality of what he'd asked her had sunk it, she'd said yes quickly, giving only a cursory pause to give the impression of real contemplation. First of all, the dining hall was not her room and at that moment Emily would have prayed to sprout wings if she'd thought it was help her escape the oppressive silence of the place. Secondly, it would put both of them in a room with someone else and that had to be better than this. They had not come up with anything to say. The more time passed, the more that worried her. She wasn't sure if that had ever happened before. They were both regretful, both wishing half the things that had come out had just stayed buried. But there was nothing they could say to take any of it back and broaching the subject just seemed to be inviting more trouble. Emily sighs and picks up her hairbrush again and begins sliding it through her hair. All her life she'd sworn she was not going to turn into her parents -- end up trapped in a deeply dysfunctional relationship that was stapled together by history, obsession and a stubborn refusal to admit defeat and stop loving each other. But here she was. She understood now, what that might feel like -- though she couldn't imagine the fatigue of doing that for over twenty years. Still. She wasn't going to stop loving Lucky. She refused to. And she was sure if she just hung in long enough that somehow she'd convince him that she wasn't lying to him -- that she meant all the things she kept preaching to him over and over again. Right now, she just couldn't find the right path, the words that would fix everything. And she didn't want to think about the possibility that they didn't exist. She didn't want to think about any of it. So, Ok dinner. Dinner with Nikolas, like actual real people. It was a welcome distraction and hopefully something about it would push something into a new light, make everything look a little different. Worst case scenario... They'd just stay exactly where they were. Emily puts down the brush, swallowing down a lump in her throat, and focuses her tearing eyes on a couple of simple hair combs laid out on the dressing table. She picks them up, clears her throat audibly, and begins to slide them into her hair, pulling the long strands that stubbornly fall into her face aside and pinning them back. She hears the sound of the en suite bath open and glances over to see Lucky emerge, his hair a little wet, but behaving itself admirably, and dressed in the "respectable" clothing provided by Josef and his minions. His eyes are cast down, she suspects so that he won't have to meet her gaze, and his movements seem insubstantial. She frowns, turning the second comb over in her hands as she watches him. Something is... Strange. Just what it is, she's having a little trouble putting her finger on. She turns back to the mirror, still watching him in the mirror as he begins to fiddle with the cuffs on the shirt. She smiles a little. Em: Problem? (Lucky looks up, a little startled at her voice. Emily immediately feels like she did something wrong. He looks back at his wrists, coughing slightly) Lucky: They take cufflinks. (He starts to cross the room slowly, towards her) Which I didn't pack. Em: Oh! (Emily turns her attention to the table) Look, almost anything I could think of is in this thing some place -- (She pulls open a random drawer, scouring the contents for a spare set of cufflinks) I'm sure... (she glances quickly at Lucky who has come to stand behind her and is staring at her blankly in the mirror. She sits up straight.) Or... You could borrow from Nikolas -- Lucky: Or. (He brings one wrist up across his chest and begins to roll up the cuff of the shirt. Emily gives a small smile) Em: Or. Yeah, that works. (she turns her attention back to her own reflection. The act of bending down -- actually moving -- has cause the comb to slip and it is not hanging in her hair in a way that looks utterly incompetent. She sighs) I don't know how to handle my hair. Lucky: Since when? Em: Since I cut it all off? (She pulls the comb out of her hair and drops it on the surface of the table) I just... (she shakes her head) This feels wrong. Lucky: You don't have to do this. Em: No. NO, I don't mean 'this', I mean... (she stops, looking up at him. She finds herself giving a small laugh that bubbles up out of her suddenly) I meant my hair. That's all. (She runs a hand through it quickly) I'm a little out of practice with all this social graces stuff. Lucky: Do you feel up to this? Because if you don't -- (Emily shakes her head, standing up) Em: No. No, I'm glad... I think it's good. It's good. (She looks at him uncertainly) You don't think it's good? Lucky: Good is a strong word. (He exhales) Look, it's dinner. It will give all these people running around here something to do. (Emily nods. She opens her mouth to ask him how he's doing then thinks better of it and takes a step back, smoothing the material of the light dress she's wearing) Em: Ok. Dinner. (She gives an uncertain smile. God, this feels... Awkward. She shakes her head, beating the thought from her head. No. Everything is fine. And if it's not... It'll get back to fine. It has to. It just has to.) Let's go, then.
Katija's Cottage Katija tears her eyes away from Stefan, standing framed in the doorway, and looks at Laura. She notes a slight tremble in the woman's hands as she brings them forward to clasp in front of her. This nervousness isn't displayed anywhere else, however. In fact, her demeanor is boarding on icy. Katija's gaze hesitantly turns back to Stefan. She's a little startled at how removed he looks. He's always been taciturn, but never so much that she couldn't see some little hint of what might be going on beneath the surface. Now, however, there is not sign that he has a pulse, much less a heart. She swallows hard and takes a step backwards, suddenly feeling enormously uncomfortable in her own home. Katija: You'll excuse -- (she lets the sentence die as she darts out of the room and into the kitchen, letting the swinging door slam shut behind her. At the sound, Stefan blinks. Laura allows herself a renewed cold smile. Laura: You're here. Stefan: I did not intend to surprise you. Laura: You didn't. You should know by know how I react to your surprises. (a flicker of something shoots through Stefan's eyes and he walks into the room, speaking softly.) Stefan: You told my operative that Nikolas was 'fine'. I've come for a further explanation. Laura: I see. (Stefan turns around) Stefan: Is that all you have to say? You have information on Nikolas's whereabouts and you make no (Laura crosses her arms, suddenly possessed by an urge she hadn't expected. She had known this would probably happen. She had thought she was prepared for it. Then this afternoon, the prospect had filled her with an undefinable dread and staying put no longer felt like an option. She knows what she has to do know. And Luke and Stefan are both obstacles in that goal. Fear, uncertainty -- and habit -- had made her leave the clues to let them find her. But now that is not what she wants. Looking at Stefan's face she feels, suddenly, no hint of intimidation or fear. There is, she realizes, honestly no threat here. She feels a rush of empowerment and lifts her chin, words she didn't anticipate coming to the surface) Laura: I'm sorry, Stefan. That was terribly insensitive of me. I can only imagine how difficult it is to know that Nikolas is out there some place but not be able to see him, or talk to him, or even know how he is... And to have me, his own mother, as the person standing in your way... (She frowns) Wait. I think I've seen this movie. Stefan: I am not here to play games with you Laura. Laura: Really? That's a first. Stefan: Do you think this is something I'm taking lightly? Laura: I don't believe that is what I said, no. Stefan: I do not enjoy you exacting some sort of revenge on me for actions that were -- Laura: What? Beyond your control? (she laughs) Are you trying to hide behind Helena's skirts? You never used to do things like that, Stefan. But on this... I've never asked. All this time, all these... Proclamations, confession, threats -- veiled and otherwise -- suddenly everything is supposed to be chummy? I'm just supposed to cooperate with you, aren't I? (Laura stops and shakes her head) You know, for the first time, I'm seeing another option and just for this moment, I'm going to enjoy it. (Stefan stares at her looking honestly shocked for just a moment, then struggles to find his bearings) Stefan: Whatever point you think you are making here, you are doing it at the cost of your son -- Laura: Wouldn't want to do that, would I? God knows you're not guilty of that one. Every move you've ever made has been in Nikolas's best interests, hasn't it? Right from allowing him to see me as a monster for most of his life. Letting him think I didn't love him, letting him believe I'd chosen Lucky over him -- (Stefan pivots on his heel, quickly turning back to her, enraged) Stefan: DON'T -- (he breaks off quickly, aware of the volume of his voice. He crosses the room to her in a few long steps and grabs her upper arms, his eyes burning into hers) Don't presume for a minute to know the reasons behind any of the decisions I've made. Nikolas has never suffered at my hands, Laura. Laura: But he's suffered at mine, hasn't he? Stefan: I'm not here to amuse you, or to be subject to your taunts. I'm here for one thing only. Where is my son? What do you know? (Laura raises her chin defiantly) Laura: I know he's safe. I know he's being taken care of. Outside of that, I have NOTHING (She pulls herself out of his grip roughly) to say to you. (She turns and walks quickly out of the house, letting the door slam heavily behind her. Stefan stares after her for a long moment, shocked at both her behavior and his own. He turns unsteadily and is faced with Katija standing in the doorway. She looks at him, her head tilted to one side, her expression grim. After a moment she crosses to him, pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of her apron. She approaches him and he takes a half a step backwards before stopping himself. Katija stands on tip toe and puts the handkerchief to his forehead, expertly mopping away the beads of perspiration that Stefan had not even realized had appeared there. He shakes his head, feeling like he's momentarily lost his grip. His hand flies up suddenly and grips Katija's wrist. She clicks her heels back onto the floor, looking at him with steady gray eyes. He finds a sliver of comfort in the lack of judgment in her eyes. She must have already known, he decides, realizing how uncomfortable he is with the idea of her knowing the decisions he'd made regarding Nikolas and Laura. The sensation is almost entirely foreign. He realizes he's still holding her wrist and lets go of it, stepping back.) Stefan: What has she told you? Katija: Nothing that I have not already told you. Stefan: I meant to ask her. I meant to... (He shakes his head) I did not expect her to be so -- Katija: Angry? Or do you mean you did not expect her to stand up to you like that. (Stefan doesn't respond. There is a hint of disapproval in Katija's voice, but he should have expected that) Stefan: There are reasons -- Katija: I'm not asking for an explanation, I have no right to anything of the sort. It would make me uncomfortable for you to attempt to provide one. That is entirely unlike you, Stefan. (Stefan looks back at her, and gives a slight smile at the words) Stefan: Yes. Much of this is. Katija: She has no where to go. You should go after her. S tefan: She won't listen to me. Katija: She's planning on doing something that could in all likelihood get her killed. Neither of us want that for Nikolas. Stefan: No. No, certainly not. Katija: Then stop her. (Stefan nods) Stefan: Still holding my best interests at heart, I see. (Katija looks a bit taken back at the statement) Katija: I never knew you -- (She stops, holding her tongue.) You know how to handle this. You always do. (Stefan nods, grim) Stefan: I shall return shortly. (He turns and moves to the door. Katija watches him, standing stock still in the middle of the room. The door closes behind him and her shoulder sag a little. This really can't be over soon enough for her. She turns and walks unsteadily back to the kitchen).
The Cassadine Compound, Dining Hall. The table is long, clearly used for visits from other pockets of nobility, financiers, whatever important people might cross the Cassadine threshold. In the Quartermaine household, dinners of that magnitude would most often be held at the Grill or some other place. But everything was about business in Emily's family and the Cassadines were all about veneer. She was beginning to see that. They did not fit in to any sort of classic definition of class... But they were archaic and infamous and watching the scene laid out before her, Emily couldn't help but feel that everything that had ever confused or threatened her about Cassadines was now starting to make sense. It was all about image. Appearing how they were supposed to appear -- dark and mysterious. Intimidation by inviting speculation and giving no explanation. But she knew Nikolas, she realized. In all of this, she'd gotten to know him better than she'd imagined and suddenly the veneer was just that. A cloud of glamour to hide behind. She stole a quick glance across the table at Lucky. He must know that. If she did, he would. He was quicker at this stuff than she was. And, as unbelievable as it sounded, he'd spent more time with Nikolas. Things had happened between them during her periods of incommunicado that she could only really speculate about. So Lucky knew Nikolas. It stood to reason. What didn't stand to reason was how uncomfortable he looked. They'd both been seated at the same end as Nikolas, the rest of the table stretching out beside them, easily ignored if you kept your eyes only on the area they were occupying. Lucky was to his right... Right hand... Probably an important statement, if anyone chose to read into it. And it seemed, from Nikolas's careful movements, the way he was holding himself, that he expected that it was. Statement to anyone who happened to see what was going on. The question was, what kind of statement was it making to Lucky? And was Lucky choosing to acknowledge it? Her gut suspicion was no. He was not choosing to acknowledge much. His eyes barely moved from his plate, focusing on the act of careful consumption of the dinner. They were having fish, on a bed of wild rice. It was fine cuisine, prepared with sauces and spices she wasn't entirely familiar with. She tried to concentrate on the food herself. She hadn't realized how much she missed this -- the whole idea of eating real food -- balanced meal -- some place away from bed linens. It's nourishing, body and mind. She is beginning to feel more alive than she has in a while.) Em: This is... (She takes a breath and raises her head, looking at Nikolas and giving a well practiced smile he is certain could vanish in a millisecond.) This is delicious. (she looks uncertainly at the servant how is standing behind her, then back at Nikolas) Compliments to the chef. Nik: Mariah. (He puts down a wine glass, having just took a sip. Emily's eyes drift to her own glass. She hadn't really been prepared for the wine aspect of the meal. She didn't drink anymore than she did anything else that could be categorized under 'recreational substances'. She didn't consider herself an addict - she'd seen too much of AJ and Alan's trips to hell and back to know that she'd just seen the path. She hadn't actually skipped down it. Still, she was cautious. She could imagine, in about five years, that maybe she'd be the sort of person to have wine with a fine dinner, or champagne at New Years. But in the meantime she was steering clear. The temptation to just take the edge off this situation was very strong. To steel her resolve, she reached out and pressed her finger tips against the stand of the wine glass, and pushed it ever so slightly away from her. The servant behind her misread the gesture, and in a blink he's at her side topping up her already untouched glass. Emily looks startled but quickly covers, smiling and mouthing her thanks. The servant moves around the table and Emily watches him refill Lucky's glass. She notes for the first time that Lucky IS drinking his wine, which is... A surprise. He doesn't drink. At least, he never drank when she was around. Luke wasn't exactly strict about legalities and she was sure that Lucky's Puritan lifestyle had more to do with her overdose than anything else... Which is why she's surprised. She feels her stomach knot. She really doesn't know what is going on inside him. It's been ages since she's felt this kind of apprehension about him. She takes another bite of the fish. Somehow, it doesn't taste quite as good anymore.) Em: Well. (She looks down in her lap, and smoothes her napkin) It's very good. Nik: I'll be sure to tell her. (Emily's smile wobbles noticeably and she looks down quickly, focusing on the act of eating. Nikolas watches her, thinking that Lucky's mood in the garden that afternoon was not a fluke or unmotivated mood swing. Something is going on. Given what his brother said about Emily, it would seem that there is trouble in Paradise. He turns his attention to Lucky, but his movements are impossible to read outside of the fact that he is far more focused on his plate than he is on Emily. Which, Nikolas thinks, is a first. One thing he could always count on from Lucky -- there was not much question where his priorities lay. Emily's safety, happiness, general well-being... That always seemed to be his first concern. Nikolas turns his attention back to his faux-sister-in-law.) I'm glad to see you up. You look much better. You have your color back. (Emily nods, still looking at her plate.) Em: Thank you. (Lucky glances up at Emily's answer. He stares at her for a long moment, watching her go through the motions of having her dinner. After a moment he looks away and takes a sip of wine. Nikolas exhales) Nik: How are you feeling? Em: I'm... (She stops, feeling her throat close. Oh, God... What is this? She's fine. She is fine. So there's silence. So things with her and Lucky are a little weird... She feels tears prick her eyes and exhales in a sudden burst. No. Not doing this. She's just not going to do this) Ok. Nik: Good. (He lowers his head trying to catch her eyes) I'm glad. (Emily nods quickly, swallowing down a bite of rice that tastes disturbingly like dust.) Em: (tightly) So am I. (Nikolas frowns. Ok. This is not getting any better.) Nik: (quietly) All right... (Emily suddenly pushes herself back from the table. Her grip is loosening by the second, with or without any direct push. Just being here, just watching things stay quiet... She can't do this. And the last thing she wants is to make a scene like she did at the tea room. She stands up quickly) Em: Uh... Actually... (Her eyes dart along the table, as she pushes her hair back behind her ear) I'm... I probably shouldn't over do things. Maybe... I should go lie down. (Nikolas raises his brow. He looks over at Lucky who takes a moment before looking up at her. He takes in her appearance, then puts his fork down) Lucky: Maybe that would be best. (Emily presses her lips together and nods) Em: Yes. (She takes a breath and looks up at Nikolas) Thank you. Very much. I'll... I'll see you in the morning. Nik: Yes. (Emily turns on her heel and makes a bee line to the door. Nikolas gestures to the servant who follows her, having to run a few steps to make it to the door before her. He pulls open the door for her, and Emily walks through, barely acknowledging him. The servant looks back at Nikolas, who gestures for him to leave. The servant nods and follows Emily out, closing the doors behind them. Lucky stares at the flickering of the candles in front of him for a long moment. He should go after her. Maybe. Maybe he should just let her go upstairs and cry herself to sleep. She was going to cry, he could tell. He could feel it, that shaky energy just radiating off of her. And what was he supposed to do? Go up and comfort her? He was the reason she was upset. And if he went and talked to her, he'd just upset her more. He could feel his stomach twist at that conviction. He'd upset her more, he'd upset himself, and then he'd do something, say something, whatever... And things would be worse. If it was possible for things to get much worse between the two of them. Lucky reaches out and picks up the wine glass, swirling the contents and staring into the glass. He stares at the liquid as it splashes around the glass, then runs in thin streams along the glass, following the command of gravity. Lucky smirks slightly. Lucky: Legs. Nik: (leaning forward slightly) What? Lucky: Streams on the glass. They're called 'legs'. (Nikolas looks at his brother in surprise a moment, then sits back) Nik: Yes. I... How did you know that? Lucky: Read it. Filed it under "lists of stupid things to say to impress rich people." (He smirks bitterly) Did it work? (Nikolas blinks.) Nik: A little. (Lucky nods and then tips the glass up, downing the contents quickly.) Nik: Are you going after her? Lucky: No. (He puts the glass down) No. No point. Nik: No point. Lucky: NO point. Nik: Is she ... Ok? Lucky: No. (Lucky sighs, taking a moment to feel the rush of warmth that the wine brings with it. He's aware of it infecting his blood stream. Not bad. Not enough, but not bad. He reaches across the table and picks up Emily's untouched glass, then sits back, repeating the swirling action and considering his options.) It's nothing I can fix though. Nik: (after a moment) If I may be so bold... (Lucky looks up at Nikolas sharply, his expression clearly stating that he's not open to commentary) Lucky. Lucky: Talk to me like human being, maybe. MAYBE I'll listen. I don't have anything better to do. (He takes a large gulp of the wine. Nikolas looks at his brother willing himself to feel concern or at the very least, disapproval. But frankly, he's surprised he hasn't witnessed this behavior earlier) Nik: What happened? (Lucky has returned to studying his glass. He seems to consider the question a long moment, vaguely aware that he should be annoyed that it was asked. But really. Being annoyed, especially in Nikolas's company, gets tiring. He found Nikolas annoying. That was stasis. It was boring at this point.) Lucky: (laughing slightly) What didn't? Nik: Good point. (Lucky sighs and looks down the length of the room to the heavy wooden doors that Emily had shut behind her.) Are you finished? Lucky: (distantly) Yeah. (he shakes his head) Yeah. I'm done. (He looks back at the contents of the glass) Nik: But you don't want to go upstairs. Lucky: No. No, I don't. Nik: So. (There is a long silence. Lucky finally leans forward, pushes the plate out of the way, and rests one elbow on the table. Enough with the dutiful brother crap. He puts the glass down and threads his fingers together, placing them behind his head and places both of them on the table) Lucky: I think... My head is going to explode. Nik: Right... Now? (Lucky doesn't say anything, just staring at the table top. God, he wants this to stop, he wants this to stop right now. Hit pause, freeze frame, just shut his mind down and make it all stop. God, what does he usually do when he feels like this? He closes his eyes and an image offers itself. For so long... Whenever he feels like he's slipping, like everything is out of control and if he's left alone with his thoughts he'll go insane, he's done the same thing. He's found Emily and just let himself forget everything else. She'd been so good at that when they were in high school. She was an oasis for him, she made everything go away. And then he'd screwed it up, and ever since, nothing ever faded away the way he wanted it to. Lucky lets out an audible groan and straightens up, picking up the glass and drowning it's contents. He puts it down and looks over at Nikolas, just slightly unsteady due to the speed he's ingested the alcohol. Nikolas is attempting to cover minor shock. He and Lucky gaze at each other a long moment, then Nikolas picks up his napkin, and carefully begins to fold it) You play pool right? Lucky: I don't even remember learning. (Nikolas nods and puts down the napkin) Nik: There is a games room. Are you up for the distraction. (Lucky considers) Lucky: I've got to be up for something. (Nikolas pushes his chair back from the table and stands up) Nik: Then let's find something. (Lucky looks up at him a long moment, then smirks) Lucky: In all the time I've known you... (he stands up) I think that's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say.
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