Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Three:
En Vino Veritas

The Cassadine Compound, The Gaming Room.

The balls break with a satisfying series of rapid fire clicks that nearly sends Lucky reeling with nostalgia. He tightens his grip on the cue while watching Nikolas make his way around the table, smoothing knocking balls into pockets.

He feels weird. Worlds colliding, or something -- playing pool in the gothic confines of a "gaming" room with a Cassadine. What is wrong with this picture? Lucky stares down into the glass of port -- sickly sweet concoction, he doesn't care for it -- and just listens to the sound of Nikolas making shot after shot. He feels disconnected, like he's hanging from this whole situation by a single thread and can't seem to bring himself to sever the cord, or use it to reel himself back in. It wouldn't be too hard to go either way, he just can't for the life of him make a commitment.

This is a sort of transience he's never experienced before. It was something people continually asked him, once they knew him well enough to ask -- how did he do it? How did he live so much of his life, just moving from one place to another without even keeping a name, or leaving a forwarding address? He had stock answers. Jokes, blithe statements he could sell with the right kind of smile. The fact was, there wasn't anything to say to those questions except that he just DID. You grow up knowing one life, no one ever tells you there is another, why would you even question it?

Not that he'd thought other families were like his. But he hadn't thought what they had was better -- in fact, with typical Spencer superiority, he had pitied them, in a distant sort of way. He never got bored. He had, everyone always told him, the greatest parents. No kid in any playground had challenged him to a game of "My Dad is better than your Dad" because there really was no comparison.

Everyone, Lucky told himself sternly, looks back at their childhood and thinks there was a kind of perfection there that they weren't going to see again. Even if they grew up in their own special kind of hell, there was something golden about it. And eventually, they had to look back as adults and wish that some of it had rubbed off on them... Stuck around to keep them company in whatever world they were now facing. He couldn't help but think, though... That in his case, things had gotten just a little more tarnished than most. The picture when he thought about it, was too bright. And his present... He couldn't even look at it. Couldn't allow himself to truly be IN it. Even to try, his mind would scream "How how HOW did this happen?"

He didn't have an answers. At least, he didn't have any that didn't make him feel sick.

Lucky drowns his port in a single gulp, feeling his hand shake ever so slightly as he raises the glass to his lips. He lets his gaze focus on the pool table, just in time to see Nikolas's shot graze the ball he was looking to sink, and move on. His brother flinches slightly and Lucky puts his empty glass down on the side table as he moves past on his way to the table).

Lucky: Imperfection's a bitch. (Nikolas shakes his head and steps back from the table)

Nik: Your shot. (Lucky flips the cue stick around his wrist then catches the stick in his hand, jerking it so that the end clicks on the carpet. Nikolas suppresses an urge to comment. Vintage Lucky -- he's seen him do this with everything from hotel keys to the much discussed fire arm. Everything seems he does seems to require an accompanying gesture of cool. Which doesn't bother him nearly as much as the fact that Lucky usually carries them off without looking like he's trying to impress anyone whatsoever. He watches Lucky squint at the table and wonders just how much of this is show, and how much is real. He's never certain. Lucky's eyes dart over the table, taking in just how far Nikolas got before missing. He's irritatingly good at this game, Lucky thinks to himself -- he's sunk nearly half the solids before a shot went wrong. He lines up his first shot and takes it almost blindly. The cue ball bounces off a stripe with surprising force and slams into another one. Both balls move quickly and satisfyingly into respective pockets. Lucky feels a distinct rush. Ok. So he hasn't lost his ability to do everything.

Nikolas watches Lucky move around the table with a sinking feeling. He'd been much more careful, much more focused, in his play -- though he'd noticed Lucky hadn't really bothered to watch. That irked him. A part of him had to face the fact that he'd been hoping to impress him... Just a little. It seems clear, however, that all he's succeeded in doing is awaken some pool playing beast within his brother. Lucky looks possessed. That is the only word for it. He shouldn't be surprised. The guy can focus like a cobra when he has to. Shot after shot goes in, the table getting cleared with great speed. This bothers him until he notices the slightest glint of a smile on Lucky's lips.

Nik: Well. That is depressing. (Lucky lines up another shot)

Lucky: Don't let it get you down. (He sends another ball reeling into the pocket. He straightens up and smirks bitterly) I'm a Spencer. This is what we do.

Nik: Right... (Nikolas glances over at the empty port glass and picks his own up off the drink cart) But you've had three times what I've had to drink, and --

Lucky: (snorting) What? You think I'm inebriated? (another shot -- balls are again sunk) Not even close. (Nikolas surveys him over the top of the glass. Something is up. It's pulsing off of him.)

Nik: But you want to be. (Lucky stops a shot short and looks up at Nikolas. Nikolas takes a drink, as if this is supposed to take some of the accusation out of his words. Lucky licks his lips carefully, deciding what he really wants to do next. Another argument he's just not up to. Besides. He knows he's only half there. Some part of his brain that is usually in check in operating tonight, and he's not sure what it's trying to do. He finally gives a slight laugh, and lines up his shot again)

Lucky: I don't remember inviting any lectures.

Nik: I don't remember lecturing. (Lucky straightens up and puts down the cue)

Lucky: What's your point, Nikolas?

Nik: It's an observation. (Lucky gives him a long stares, then shrugs and leans over to make another shot. Again, it sinks, which Nikolas finds grating) I've never seen you like this.

Lucky: You haven't seen a lot of things.

Nik: True. (Lucky looks up at him)

Lucky: Lay off the Dr. Freud. (another shot made and sunk)

Nik: (frowning) You think that's what I'm doing? I'm trying to analyze you?

Lucky: You're saying it's not?

Nik: It's not. (Lucky stands up again, looking down at the table. He smirks, then looks up at Nikolas)

Lucky: That's the last ball. (Nikolas looks down. Sure enough -- red stripe and his remaining solids are all that litter the table)

Nik: So it is. (Lucky leans over, lines up the shot -- a depressingly simple venture -- and fires the ball into the pocket. He stands up again, his eyes going to the 8-ball, which is standing alone on the far side of the table, relatively uncluttered. Easy shot. He's been making harder ones for the last ten minutes. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, which feels oddly dry, then leans over to line up the shot. He hears Nikolas sigh)

Nik: All over but the singing. (Lucky tries to smile in response, but it doesn't quite come. He narrows his eyes at the ball, and pulls the cue back. Another breath. He slides the cue forward and sends the cue ball rolling purposely towards it's mark. He already knows what's going to happen when he hears Nikolas suck in his breath. Sure enough, the ball goes wide and missing the ball completely. Lucky stares at it a long moment, then straightens up. The room is dead silent. After several moments, Lucky takes a step back.)

Lucky: Well. Game. (he looks up at Nikolas who is still staring at the ball) You win. (Nikolas looks up at him in confusion)

Nik: Did you --

Lucky: (sharply) No. (he turns tosses his cue stick down onto the table and turns his back on Nikolas, walking across the room, his eyes fixed on his own reflection in the black of the window. He stops and stares at himself, looking into his own eyes for the slightest trace of recognition. God, he thinks. This guy doesn't have a clue what he's doing.

Behind him, Nikolas is possessed by a sudden need to erase any trace of the game. There is something intensely "not good" about his, and he is certain it's the beginning of a trip he doesn't want to be present for. On the other hand, he has no desire to leave. He starts to empty the pockets of balls, pushing them towards the center.

Nik: It's always struck me as a stupid rule --

Lucky: It's a game, Nikolas.

Nik: I know. (He picks Lucky's cue up off the table and hangs it up) But I still think it's stupid. You play the whole game perfectly, and one shot costs everything.

Lucky: You and your metaphors. (Nikolas looks up at him. Lucky is still staring out of the window)

Nik: I wasn't -- (Lucky turns around)

Lucky: Did I tell you Emily broke a glass? (Nikolas blinks. Oh, good. Once again he's stepped into Lucky's emotional minefield without a compass)

Nik: A glass.

Lucky: She dropped it on the terrace. (Nikolas frowns.)

Nik: That's... Fine. It was cleaned up, I presume.

Lucky: Off the EDGE of the terrace. Down the cliffs. (Nikolas stares at Lucky a long moment)

Nik: What are you saying Lucky? (He walks around the pool table) Are you saying you believe in omens? (Lucky turns away quickly, and his gaze hits the liquor cart in the corner)

Lucky: Impressive liquor collection they have laid out for you here.

Nik: (watching him carefully) Only the best. (Lucky nods. He walks over to it, examining the bottles.)

Lucky: Vodka. Figures. (Nikolas clears his throat, then recalls his earlier remark. Oh, hell. Why NOT?)

Nik: We have over fifty different varieties. It's expected.

Lucky: I can imagine. (he frowns, then picks up the bottle) Never really tried vodka.

Nik: (after a moment) Hard liquor after wine? It'll go straight to your head. (Lucky nods)

Lucky: Maybe that's what I'm looking for. (Nikolas stares at him. Oh, he should be hating this. He should say something disapproving. He should, but he's not going to.) Has anyone ever showed you a way out of something and you'd looked at it and thought "If I start this, I'll never stop"?

Nik: It doesn't solve any problems.

Lucky: Nope.

Nik: Maybe it makes them look different.

Lucky: (pensive) Do you think it really think that?

Nik: Depends on how big the problem is. (they both stare at the bottle a long moment)

Lucky: And I'm asking the wrong guy.

Nik: No... Not entirely. (Lucky looks over at him, his eyes narrowed slightly) It can take the edge off. I guess I can vouch for that much.

Lucky: (smirking) Taking the edge off of what?

Nik: You. (Lucky nearly drops the bottle. Nikolas clears his throat) Hannah. She had a fondness for Scotch.

Lucky: She never drank at the club --

Nik: I saw her drunk once. (Lucky stares at him, clearly unprepared for this revelation) After Emily was hurt. She just ... I guess she cracked. She drank a hell of a lot of Scotch, then... (He frowns) It must have been hell for her. She must felt like she was completely alone.

Lucky: She had you.

Nik: I wasn't enough. (Lucky puts the bottle down carefully. Then, in a sudden movement he picks it up and pours it into two tumblers, a generous double. He looks up at Nikolas, and picks up one of the glasses. Nikolas, meeting his eyes, hesitates a moment and then picks up the other one, a voice in his head muttering 'what are you doing?' Lucky lifts his glass in a toast)

Lucky: Here's to not being enough. (He drinks quickly, breaking eye contact with his brother and turning to pace the room. The alcohol burns harshly, down his throat and into his stomach. It seems to hit the mark almost immediately. He blinks and holds the glass against his stomach. He has the distinct impression that he just crossed a line. Behind him, Nikolas watches, then stares into the clear liquid in his glass.

Nik: (quietly) Here's to. (he takes a sip. Lucky stops a few steps from the opposite wall, an indescribable fear taking hold of him. He's always sworn he wouldn't do this. He's heard the stories about his grandfather, he knows all about what this stuff can do to you. And he just knows he has it in him. God, he's know that for so long. He's tried to fill up this damned hole in him with everything he could think of. And only one thing has ever worked. He can remember so clearly coming to Emily in the middle of the night, sick with self-hatred and guilt and losing himself in her. It had taken seconds, sometimes. The smell of her hair, the softness of her lips against his... He'd feel like he was falling, like he was losing his mind, his grip on everything. God, that would be better... That would be so much better than standing here with this stuff burning away at the pit of his stomach. But there is just no way in hell to go there again. It's stopped working, stopped working a long time ago. And if he's not staying sober for her, if nothing he does for her works anymore, then what the hell is he fighting so hard for? Lucky feels his stomach lurch and brings the glass back up to his lips, swallowing down a long swig. He turns back to the main part of the room and moves over to the window again. Nikolas opts to stare into the glass. Lucky looks out into the darkness. He can't make out much. Just a tree swaying in wind, and then... The water is black, a compete void. He can't even make out the line between the water and the sky, except that, eventually, when you look up, there are stars)

Lucky: God, it's dark here.

Nik: (in firm agreement) Yes. (He drinks again, then looks up at the ceiling. He closes his eyes and exhales) It's like that out of the city. No light pollution.

Lucky: I know. I've lived in the country. (Nikolas looks back at him)

Nik: When? (Lucky just turns and gives him a look) Right. (Nikolas sighs and decides that standing is doing him no favors. He moves purposely towards a leather arm chair that is only a few feet from where Lucky is standing, and sits down in it. He puts his drink on the side table next to him, and puts his hands on the arm rests. He was right about mixing hard liquor with wine, this is hitting him much harder and faster than expected. Lucky, he's not so sure about. But it seems like a good idea to keep the conversation moving) Which did you like better?

Lucky: (distantly, still staring out the window) What?

Nik: The country or the city. Which do you like better? (Lucky thinks about this a moment)

Lucky: I don't know.

Nik: You don't.

Lucky: (shrugging) I am where I am.

Nik: You're at the Cassadine Compound. (Lucky laughs slightly)

Lucky: Well, yeah. That puts a bit of a different spin on it.

Nik: Has it gotten any better? (Nikolas sits up slightly) How bad did you think it would be? There's no hydra encaged in the basement, or three-headed dog at the gates. (Lucky exhales)

Lucky: You know what? (He turns and looks at Nikolas straight on) Overall -- It's a hell of a lot better than Wyndemere. (Nikolas laughs)

Nik: Yeah... Yeah, I always thought so. (Lucky leans back against the wall just to the right of the window and looks back across the room, trying to avoid looking at the pool table) So you don't hate it.

Lucky: I haven't been thinking about it.

Nik: I guess that's something.

Lucky: (exhaling) You can find SOMETHING to like in almost anything if you look for it. You only have to really hate something if you're stubborn about it. (Nikolas gets an odd expression on his face as he considers that)

Nik: So... How stubborn are you?

Lucky: (taking another drink) Me? (he clears his throat) Pretty damn stubborn.

Nik: Are you stubborn enough to still hate me? (Nikolas has to admit to himself that he knew those words were coming. He also knew he shouldn't say them. Yet -- curious has won out. He hears nothing from Lucky and after a long moment shifts in his seat to look over at him. Lucky is staring hard into the glass in his hand. He doesn't move.) Lucky.

Lucky: I didn't hate you.

Nik: Yes you did. (Lucky laughs slightly)

Lucky: Ok, yes I did. (He swirls the drink around in the glass, trying hard to stay calm. His heart has picked up speed and he's almost certain he's felt a sweat break out on his forehead. Stupid question. Stupid topic. So why is he dealing with it? He could walk out the door and go upstairs and... Oh, right. He takes another, longer, swig of the alcohol and closes his eyes, resting his head against the oak paneling of the wall) I thought we agreed a long time ago to try and keep all this stuff away from "us".

Nik: Yes. And I don't think we've managed to do that for more than ten minutes at a time.

Lucky: (after a moment) True. (he opens his eyes and lolls his head over to look at Nikolas. Nikolas isn't facing him.) What do you want me to say? I think you're swell, Nikolas.

Nik: (tense) I didn't ask if you liked me. I asked if you hated me.

Lucky: I probably don't hate you.

Nik: You know... (he turns in his chair to look at Lucky, then stops, finding the posture irritating. He stands, lifting the chair by the arms and moves it so that he and Lucky are facing each other.) For all this acrimony and hostility or... Whatever this thing we keep doing is -- you really don't KNOW me, do you? (Lucky looks away, and takes another drink. Oddly, he's finding it works much better than his usual tactic -- walking away. It's has a similar effect. This conversation is fading on him without him actually having to leave the room) I know I don't really know you.

Lucky: Nikolas... (he looks up, his eyes displaying a certain degree of emotional fatigue) What are you trying to do?

Nik: I'm really... Not sure. (Nikolas shakes his head and reaches over and picks up his drink again. Whatever. He raises the glass to Lucky again and smirks) Cheers. (They both drink. Lucky's glass is now empty)

Lucky: Ok, so what is this? You know about as much about me as anyone. (Nikolas shakes his head, looking at the glass) I'm serious. Do you WANT to know more?

Nik: I have a certain degree of curiosity.

Lucky: Why? (Nikolas shrugs) What? (Lucky laughs slightly) Do you want to know my favorite color? Favorite number? What kind of toothpaste do I use!

Nik: Collgate. (He picks up the bottle and holds it out to Lucky. Lucky crosses and takes it from him)

Lucky: Actually (he pours a bit into the glass) That is Emily.

Nik: I stand corrected. (Lucky hands him back the bottle. Nikolas takes it from him and puts it back on the cart. He turns back to see Lucky smirking at him) Oh, what now.

Lucky: (turning away) Ok, I'll give you this. You're not as bad as you could have been. (With that, Lucky walks away, back towards the window. Nikolas digests this)

Nik: Uh. Thanks?

Lucky: Well we haven't killed each other yet. That's got to mean something.

Nik: Good point. (Lucky takes another drink then turns around and looks at Nikolas)

Lucky: Ok.

Nik: Ok?

Lucky: Ok. You ... You want to figure out if we "know" each other yet? Tell me what you know about me, I'll let you know if you're right.

Nik: Uh huh. And maybe later I can go lick cold metal. Just for fun. (Lucky laughs again, leaning back against the wall)

Lucky: That scary?

Nik: Well. That is one thing I've figured out about you. That the less I notice or... Comment on... The better.

Lucky: Which is funny, you saying you know that, since we are -- nonetheless -- having this conversation.

Nik: And you are -- nonetheless -- not biting my head off.

Lucky: (heavily) Maybe I'm full.

Nik: First time for everything. (he leans back in his chair) Are you serious? You want to know what I think.

Lucky: "Think" being the operative word.

Nik: Ok. (he pauses, trying to come up with something to say) I think... I think you're a lot more than I wanted you to be. I think I didn't let myself see that for a long time. But you are. I think you're also the most guarded person I've ever met, except for MAYBE my father. (Lucky looks over at him sharply) Yeah, I thought you'd like that. But you are. You're defensive as hell. You ARE stubborn. You could turn mood swings into an Olympic event. And you're really hard on yourself. A lot harder than I ever was on you.

Lucky: You think so, huh?

Nik: I think so.

Lucky: Interesting. (He drinks again, holding the vodka in his mouth a moment before swallowing) What did you used to say? It wasn't that long ago --

Nik: I take it all back, just let it lie, Lucky.

Lucky: No. No, you had a point. You used to say I was selfish -- how did that get dropped from the list?

Nik: Lucky. You're HERE.

Lucky: Yeah.

Nik: and that... That's all about you? You coming back to my place and hatching this grand -- if deeply unconventional -- scheme... That was all about you? (Lucky doesn't answer. He does take another sip of his drink)

Lucky: You know... You are missing so many pieces of the puzzle, I don't know where to begin.

Nik: I think I have more than you know.

Lucky: Really.

Nik: Just... (Nikolas sighs and sits forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees) Look. This is... Not really supposed to happen, let's just admit that. It's late, we're stuck in complete limbo... (he shakes his head, laughing slightly) Probably indulging in things we shouldn't... So really, we can just say this didn't happen. Any of it. (Lucky looks over at him like he's crazy, then gives a nod, clearly mocking him)

Lucky: Oh, sure. Whatever you say.

Nik: You'll like that in the morning. (Lucky rolls his eyes)

Lucky: I'm not drunk if that is what you're suggesting. (even as he says the words, Lucky is starkly aware that he's not being entirely truthful. He is definitely... Something. Removed, at the very least. He's just having a hard time taking any of this very seriously)

Nik: Yeah, I think we've long since established that part. But you're changing the subject on me. I'm trying to say something.

Lucky: And I'm not stopping you. (Nikolas stops and takes a deep breath)

Nik: Ok. There's something that's been bugging me a long time. A really long time. And watching you and Em tonight --

Lucky: Can we not?

Nik: I thought you weren't going to stop me.

Lucky: Ok, fine. Go ahead.

Nik: What are you doing when this is over?

Lucky: Truth?

Nik: Preferably.

Lucky: I don't know. I ... I used to have a sort of plan, but... Right now? I just ... I don't know.

Nik: What was the plan?

Lucky: Before any of this started? Emily was going to graduate at the top of her class, get accepted to Berkeley and we'd just pick up and leave. That was it, end of story.

Nik: And now.

Lucky: Now... Emily has missed a few weeks of school, she doesn't seem to care about any of it anymore, and... (Lucky stops, sucking on his bottom lip) And.

Nik: And we're only having this conversation because you don't want to go upstairs.

Lucky: (a bit too quickly) What about you? What do YOU do when this is over?

Nik: I've known what I was going to do since I was born. It's all... Mapped out.

Lucky: (glancing over at him) So you just go do that.

Nik: Yes.

Lucky: Even though you're not technically the prince. (Nikolas doesn't answer) Did you ever consider not being the prince?

Nik: Yes.

Lucky: And? (Nikolas looks up and meets his gaze)

Nik: You practically threatened to kill me. Something about how it would get me killed, and you hadn't done all of this to see me do something that stupid.

Lucky: (a bit defensive) Yeah, well. That was you saying you were going to tell Granny Dearest. And people say I have a death wish.

Nik: Do they? Say that.

Lucky: You're changing the subject.

Nik: I'm curious. I mean... (he leans back in the chair) I can see why they'd say that. I think I've seen you try it out.

Lucky: When?

Nik: After Emily was hit by that car.

Lucky: Yeah, we already talked about that.

Nik: Yeah... But. I don't think I really got that about you until that happened -- that you put her so high absolve everything else. Like on your list of priorities, she comes before breathing.

Lucky: If you were me, you'd do the same thing.

Nik: I don't doubt it. (Lucky takes another swig of his drink, then leans back into the wall. After a moment he slides down to sit on the floor, his face more troubled than he's let it be all evening)

Lucky: She... (he shakes his head, not coming up with any words) She's been everything for so long. I just... (He cringes, and turns his head away like he's feeling actual physical pain)

Nik: I know.

Lucky: No, you don't. (Nikolas feels himself bristle at the statement)

Nik: About having someone be that important to you? No, how would I? (he takes a sudden gulp of his remaining vodka, and swallows it down, trying to burn out the sudden swell of emotion that is threatening him. Lucky seems to miss this)

Lucky: You don't know about Em and me.

Nik: I think I know enough. (Lucky laughs and shakes his head)

Lucky: Noooooo... No, you don't. She really keeps her mouth shut about us. I've noticed that. (He takes another swig, emptying his second glass. His head feels like it's swimming) I used to think that was a good thing. I was all she needed, she was all I needed... That's how it's supposed to be, right? (he laughs bitterly) God, she was the one perfect thing I had. So I had to find a way to smash it into a million pieces. (Nikolas looks up at him, confused)

Nik: Lucky --

Lucky: I don't know how to make us work anymore. I really don't. (Nikolas's eyes widen.)

Nik: Jesus, Lucky! What the hell are you talking about?

Lucky: You don't know the whole STORY, Nikolas.

Nik: I know she loves you. I know she'd do anything for you. That's not enough?

Lucky: No. (Lucky closes his eyes, leaning back against the couch) It's not.

Nik: Explain that to me. Really. You want to jump into big issues? Welcome to mine. You have a woman who LOVES you. Who is upstairs, worrying and crying and BREATHING right now, and that isn't enough?

Lucky: Nikolas.

Nik: NO. You're talking to the wrong person for pity.

Lucky: I'm not LOOKING for pity. Trust me. I'm the last person who's going to say a word against her! I might be feeling sorry for myself, but I don't expect if from anyone else!

Nik: Yeah, well. From where I'm standing, you've got more than most people ever get. Don't think for a second I won't do you bodily harm if you walk away from it! (Lucky looks at him, incredulous)

Lucky: Bodily HARM?

Nik: I'm serious! Emily is... She's incredible. And she's completely DEVOTED to you. What else do you want?

Lucky: And you were theorizing that I wasn't selfish...

Nik: Don't think I won't take that back in a second if you're seriously trying to tell me that she isn't enough for you. (Lucky looks up at him, intending to glare, but only managing to gaze at his brother sadly. Nikolas exhales, realizing he's just taken something of a misstep) Or what... You're not enough for her?

Lucky: Ding ding ding! Give the boy a prize.

Nik: Lucky, you're all she wants. I mean... Look what she's done!

Lucky: I do.

Nik: So... what... I don't understand.

Lucky: Because. You're missing a piece of the puzzle. I told you that. (Lucky spins the tumbler in his hand, debating how little he wants to get up vs. how much he doesn't want to think anymore. It's a war being decided by how heavy he suddenly feels. His voice sounds about a million miles away from reality, as he hears it begin to tell the story) See... She's the only person who ever knew... Who really knew what I was like. What I could do. And she didn't care. She didn't think it was stupid, or... Crazy. She just accepted it. And sometimes I'd go see her, and I'd... God, I'd WANT her to hate me for it. Because I ... (he gives a slight laugh that almost sounds like he's choking on a sob) See, I hated myself for it. And I knew my dad would. (Nikolas sits frozen in his chair. Lucky isn't looking at him as he speaks, and Nikolas is convinced that if he moves a muscle, if he so much as breaths, that Lucky will snap out of it and he'll never hear what his brother is trying to tell him) But. Emily knew. She knew what I was doing and she still didn't hate me. And then... (he frowns, still staring into the cut glass of the tumbler, turning it slightly, getting a kaleidoscope effect with the design in the carpet) My cousin was in a rotten marriage. To her brother. And I decided... I decided to do the Spencer thing. I helped her get out. I got AJ into all kinds of trouble. And Emily didn't even suspect a thing. She never thought for a MINUTE that I had anything to do with it. And when AJ got arrested because of stuff I'd planted to make him look guilty... Emily was so upset that she came to my house and waited for me to come home. See -- I used to do that with her all the time. I'd have a bad day, or suddenly it would all just get to me, and I'd go to her and let her take it all away. So this time, she comes to me... And I'm supposed to do the same thing. To make it all disappear. And I did. I helped her, I let her cry, I talked to her... And she still didn't know. That's how good I am at lying. I could make it all better... And not even tell her that I was the reason everything was wrong in the first place. (Nikolas can't help it, he sucks in his breath. Lucky looks over at him) Yeah, it's despicable, I know. But you want to know the really crazy part? I told her all of it. At the worst POSSIBLE moment. And she said just what she should have. She told me she didn't know who I was, and she didn't love me anymore, and then she left. And it hurt. (Lucky winces at the memory, though he looks like he's almost savoring the memory of the pain) It hurt like hot knives. It hurt just as much as I thought it would -- maybe more. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think about anything else, or care about anything else, it was just this pure and distilled PAIN. I stopped caring about all of it. I started working for Jason, because that just made it that little bit worse. That was really what I wanted. IF you want to know the truth, I wanted to hurt that much. I wanted to see how much I could take. And then -- out of the blue... She came back. (He laughs) She wasn't supposed to come back. But she did. And she said she still loved me. And that she wanted to get out of Port Charles and everything and just leave it all behind. She wanted me to go with her. She just offered me complete absolution. And I don't think I hesitated a SECOND before taking it. I wanted to believe her. I NEEDED to. I'd betrayed her, and she STILL found a way to ... (Lucky stops and shakes his head hard, tears stinging his eyes. God, why is he talking about this?) See... The only person who ever loved me like she did was... My Dad. My mom too, I thought, but... Well, that's another story. So if Emily could find it in her to forgive me... Then maybe I wasn't so hopeless. The thing is... (Lucky closes his eyes and lets the glass roll out of his hand and onto the carpet) She doesn't really forgive me. (Nikolas blinks) She just wants to. I mean.. (Lucky opens his eyes and looks over at Nikolas) I love her. I love her like nothing on this earth, I... She knows that. She knows how I feel about her. And what we had used to be so good... I'd ... I DO want it back. If I was her, I probably would have done the same thing. I would have HAD to have found a way to forgive her. I couldn't just LOSE her. And she didn't ask for this! She didn't deserve it. I keep hurting her to hurt myself And she just gets ripped apart for no reason. (Lucky closes his eyes again) She doesn't trust me. She says she does, she says nothing has changed, that she loves me MORE now than she did before. That she knows me better. But it's all a lie. And I think... That might kill me more than losing her the first time did.

Nik: (after a long moment) Why do you think it's a lie?

Lucky: Come on, Nikolas. You've... You've seen her.

Nik: Yes. I have. And I think trusts you more than God. She defends you, she holds your pain like it's her own... I'm not saying that's a good thing, but the last thing I'd ever say is that she doesn't trust you --

Lucky: (incredulous) Nikolas.

Nik: What? Am I supposed to be damning you too? I'm not really in position to do that, am I?

Lucky: (sneering) Oh, and what have you ever done that compares to that?

Nik: We're not talking about me.

Lucky: Nik, come on. (laughs slightly) I'm counting on you here. You've always been good at this part. You spot my weaknesses and call me on them. It's been the one thing you were useful for.

Nik: yeah, well I resign then. I've never liked this self-destructive streak you have going, Lucky. And anything I said about you -- about you being selfish, or bad for Emily, or neglectful to Lulu --

Lucky: I AM neglectful to Lulu!

Nik: Stop it! Just knock it off. You want me to buy any of this, tell me why Emily doesn't trust you. Give me an example.

Lucky: I could give you a hundred.

Nik: And I'm only asking for one. (Lucky looks away, wearing the expression of an insolent student being asked an algebra question he doesn't have the answer for yet)

Lucky: (after a moment) She doesn't trust me to take care of her. She thinks I'll let her down. So she pushes too hard at school and she collapses in front of you in an elevator. Or on the path, she wouldn't even let me HELP her.

Nik: She was half way delirious on the path.

Lucky: Yeah. And still -- "I don't want you to take care of me". I can't say I really blame her.

Nik: You... (He shakes his head, his eyes wide in surprise) You really don't get it, do you?

Lucky: Get it?

Nik: You must really be determined to suffer. I mean, I knew you were like this -- but you're right, you've taken this masochism thing to heights I hadn't even imagined.

Lucky: Do you have a point?

Nik: She doesn't want you to take care of her. I'd say she's even terrified of it. On the path? I thought she was going to have a complete emotional break down just at the SUGGESTION of it. Do you remember what she said?

Lucky: Yeah. Vividly!

Nik: NO, what REALLY said. "I won't let you, I won't" She just kept saying that over and over again. That she wouldn't DO that to you. (Lucky frowns at him, clearly not seeing his point) Lucky. She doesn't want you to have to take care of her. You're already taking care of everyone else. You did it for years -- and you said! She was the only person who knew, the only person who ever really saw what it was doing to you. (Lucky flinches at the phrase) I sure didn't. Luke didn't seem to understand it. Laura... I don't even know what to say to that... None of us knew, Lucky. None of us, but Emily did. And you think that she is going to want you to take on her burdens too? Why would she do that? She loves you. She doesn't want to make things harder for you. (Lucky just stares at Nikolas, his mouth open slightly) I mean... That's possible, right? Considering everything she's trusted you with? Her life, out on this trip into nowhere? (Nikolas runs a hand over his hair. His heart is beating erratically in his chest and he feels unnaturally warm) I think you should... Talk to her. Because you're right... You can't lose her. If you do, I'm going to hurt you.

Lucky: Again with the threats.

Nik: Don't try me. One thing I always have a hard time with where you're concerned -- everything that's happened, you still got the ... You got Laura. And you got to be there when Lulu was born, you got to live with her. And you've got a woman who loves you. Those are all things I don't have. You take them for granted for a second, don't think I won't be there to remind you of that.

Lucky: What are you going to do, follow me around my whole life?

Nik: If it comes to it! Look -- I know what you did. I can't say I've ever understood why you did it, but if I didn't say I was grateful yet... That's just because there's never been room to say it. (Nikolas leans forward, his eyes locking on Lucky's) I know what it cost you. I know what I cost you. I'm becoming acutely aware of that. (Nikolas's voice trembles slightly and he pulls himself back, resisting the invitation to move into emotional territory. He can't do that, he can't do it now, not when he's so close to ending all of this. HE looks at his brother, curled up against the wall, looking so deeply wounded and ... Scared. God, he's eighteen years old... For the first time, Nikolas feels like Lucky is looking his age. Young, uncertain, and tired. He's been running an emotional marathon for years, no wonder he's exhausted. What's a few more days, from the point Nikolas is starting? Not a thing.) I'm just saying... You might be looking at it wrong. (Lucky shifts in his place on the floor. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his gut churning, but somehow he still doesn't feel connected to any of it. Nikolas's words are making his head spin, and the feelings twisting in him are indescribable. He sakes his head dizzily)

Lucky: You know what?

Nik: No. What?

Lucky: In another life... If things weren't so messed up and crazy... maybe... (he looks over at him) Maybe being related to each other wouldn't have been horrible.

Nik: Horrible.

Lucky: Whatever you call this. All this... Work. Maybe it just could have been... Normal.

Nik: You mean if I'd been a Spencer?

Lucky: I mean... What if she'd brought you back?

Nik: Luke would have had me executed.

Lucky: (laughing) You've been believing too much of his press.

Nik: Are you serious? I mean, you think she could have brought me back with her and all hell wouldn't have broken loose?

Lucky: One thing I always knew... My father loved my mother, no matter what.

Nik: (shaking his head) I can't ... Fathom it.

Lucky: Yeah. You'd be American. You'd used two syllable words, you'd listen to music from this century... Hell, maybe you'd even have an earring. (Nikolas looks up at him, sharply)

Nik: I'd never have an earring.

Lucky: (after a moment) No, you wouldn't. (He reaches up and grabs the window sill and uses it to get, unsteadily to his feet) I guess it doesn't matter. It happened the way it did. We are what we are. (Nikolas nods. Whatever that might be)

Nik: Go see Emily.

Lucky: Yeah.... (he sways slightly, looking at the pool table) You stay here and practice your pool game. I'm not going to lose to you on a fluke again. (he looks at Nikolas, trying his best to appear disaffected and sarcastic) I like some degree of a challenge. (Nikolas looks up at him. Lucky gives an unconvincing smirk, then turns and walks to the door, leaving it open behind him.)

Nik: (under his breath) Brat.