Chapter Two Hundred Four:
First Light

The sun is struggling up over the Aegean, on it's way to another new day. The cloud cover is dissipating, leaving behind a soft mist that clouds the coast. It will soon be burned off, but for the moment, everything is clouded and unreal. Laura Spencer emerges into this from the dock house that she sought refuge in the night before. She wraps her arms around her, and walks down the dock to the end, staring at the water intently, her eyes drinking in the sight of compound. Her insides feel like steel and as she stares she feels her heart harden, a protective shell enclosing around her.

It's settled. The truth that she hadn't wanted to think about, hadn't wanted to admit to. But afterwards, lying in the mud on that hill, looking into Luke's eyes... Eyes more familiar than her own... They'd just known. They'd known like they'd known the first time they'd seen each other. It was with the same certainty, the same feeling of predestination. And her stomach had flipped with the same overwhelming fear.

But she knew how to handle fear now. And she knew what had to happen, she knew why.

Behind her she hears the sounds of Luke. Exiting the shelter, moving down the dock and coming to stand behind her. She stands still as his arm comes around her waist and his head bows, breathing in her hair. She lets her eyes close. His other hand slides down her arm and takes her hand, pressing warm hard metal into her hand. She takes it, and squeezes her fist tightly. She turns her head and catches Luke's mouth, kissing him tenderly. He returns the kiss, but pulls back, stepping away from her. She opens her eyes and looks into his eyes. He's blurred due to unshed tears. She gives him a weak smile.

Luke: I'm going up to the house. (Laura nods. Luke smiles at her sadly, then turns and walks up the dock. Laura watches him go, then looks down, and opens her hand and stares down at his wedding ring).

Terrace, Pappas House

Stefan stands at the edge of the patio, staring down at the figure below, standing alone on the dock. He's just watched Luke Spencer make his way up to the house, leaving his wife behind, and stays, watching, for some indication of what transpired the night before. He's well aware he shouldn't care, but a part of him will always want to protect her, he realizes, as much as he might want to turn it off.

The rest though... He leans forwards slightly, resting his weigh on the balls of his feet. He's uncertain. Mostly, looking at her like this, he feels a great sadness weigh on him. He lets out a deep sigh and turns in time to see Katija come through the door with a tray. She stops, then tightens her grip on the tray and carries it across to him, setting it on a small wrought iron table.

Katija: Mr. Pappas apologizes that he has little to offer you. His youngest daughter usually attends to the baking and she's been on the island assisting with spring cleaning. He did think you would require some coffee this morning. (Stefan narrows his eyes, taking in the sight in front of him. He shakes his head slightly)

Stefan: Did you inform Mr. Pappas that you are not here in a serving capacity? (Katija straightens up, focusing her eyes on the horizon, her expression tight)

Katija: I prefer to be of some assistance.

Stefan: Still. We did not request your company to fetch us coffee.

Katija: Then what AM I doing here, Stefan? (Her eyes dart to his, then pull away. She clears her throat) I was uncertain, after last night. You wish me to stay at this house, correct? (Stefan pauses. He doesn't like the timbre of her voice)

Stefan: Laura seemed to feel most comfortable back here with the presence of someone she trusts.

Katija: Besides Mr. Spencer?

Stefan: I am not at all certain of the status of her relationship with Mr. Spencer. (Katija exhales.)

Katija: That really is not my concern. I am simply looking to understand my reason for being here and fulfill it to the best of my abilities --

Stefan: Katija. (She glances over at him, warily) You have not been in the service of my family for several years.

Katija: I am not seeking to blur that line any further than it already has been. Count.

Stefan: You really think that will work? Call me by my title and erase all that passed between us.

Katija: What are YOU trying to do? Really -- what am I doing here?

Stefan: Laura wanted someone to be here that she could trust. I wanted the same. (He moves towards her) Do you understand what is going on here?

Katija: In some terms.

Stefan: The war is on. Again. The battle for the ultimate control of the family. And this time... The upper hand is not mine.

Katija: I've never cared much to involve myself in the power struggles of your family.

Stefan: Nor did I. Before Nikolas.

Katija: Do you ... Do you really think he's turned his back on you?

Stefan: I have no idea, currently, what to think of his actions. He lost someone. Recently. I think It's affected... His reason.

Katija: Lost someone.

Stefan: A woman. A woman he was quite... Enamored of. She was entirely unsuitable for him --

Katija: But that is not something you are in much of a position to take issue with. (Stefan looks up to catch a small smile on Katija's face. He finds himself relax ever so slightly)

Stefan: I am a parent. The fact that Nikolas is subject to the same follies I have been does not necessitate my supporting them. Or even admitting to my past indiscretions in the process.

Katija: Hmm. You sound like my sister.

Stefan: Heaven forbid. (Katija finds herself smiling a little more freely. Her sister terrifies most who encounter her.)

Katija: So you support hypocrisy then -- in the name of child-rearing? (Stefan's expression falters and he looks away)

Stefan: No. No, I can't say that I do. Secrecy has proven to be something of a double edged sword. (Stefan sinks down onto an iron chaise lounge beside the table the tray still sits on, untouched) To protect my nephew I rationed my truths. It's not something he appreciated. Had I another chance... I would, perhaps, do things differently.

Katija: You did the best you could. (Katija looks over her shoulder, aware that she should abandon this conversation, go back inside. The last thing she needs is to sink into anything with Stefan Cassadine -- yet again. She turns back all the same). You were the best thing that could have happened to that child. I know that better than anyone. (She clears her throat) Do you know, in the weeks after he was born, Stavros came to see him once? He stayed bout five minutes. Then he got bored.

Stefan: (bitterly) My brother was a sociopath. No real feeling for anyone. (Katija comes to sit down next to him. She's never truly comprehended Stefan's feelings regarding Stavros. They were usually dark, but tinged with something that was utterly beyond her.)

Katija: Well. You saved Nikolas from quite a fate then. (She frowns) Or... Luke Spencer did. (Stefan looks at her sharply) Well. For all his... (she shakes her head in lieu of adjective) He kept many hands clean. I'm not sure, knowing what I did, if I could have stood watching Nikolas be reared by that man. (She swallows hard) And. I... Well. (She glances at him) I was rather expected to take to his bed the moment he decided he wanted me. I was fortunate he took a liking to the cook's daughter while Laura was pregnant. (Stefan's expression darkened. Katija frowns bitterly) In retrospect, I suppose it's not much of a surprise I rebelled so totally against my position. Though I might have never understood what other options there were if I had not... If not for you. (Stefan gives a bitter smile)

Stefan: Did I really change that much? In all the time we kept company, Katija... I was a shadow of a man.

Katija: (softly) You never appeared that way to me. You were gentle, and tortured, lonely... And you were wonderful to Nikolas. I always thought you should have had a thousand sons, you were so good with him.

Stefan: So much has passed since... (HE swallows) I nearly did have another child.

Katija: (blinking) I... No. No -- your wife?

Stefan: She was pregnant when she died. Only by a few months. She hadn't told me yet. (He exhaled) We had been fighting. She was... Disturbed by recent developments. She did not understand... How things had to be. For the name, for family, the fortune --

Katija: For your nephew. (There is a strange twist on the word. Stefan glances over at her)

Stefan: Yes... (His eyes narrow slightly, searching hers. She looks aside quickly)

Katija: I'm an educated woman, Stefan. (she exhales) And I can count. (she turns back to him) Do you know for certain now? (Stefan stares at her) He is your son, isn't he? I won't tell. You have to know that by now. I never have before.

Stefan: (a bit shaken) No. No, you... Haven't. (he shakes his head) I should have known...

Katija: Knowing what I did? You probably thought I was a young and naive girl, why would I know anything of what happened between you and Laura?

Stefan: I knew you... I knew that you understood what had passed between us. To some degree.

Katija: I decided it was none of my concern. I was just to ensure that they child was healthy and well cared for. I did my best for him. Though... I don't think that falling in love with his father helped matters much. I don't think that getting myself banished was very good for him --

Stefan: No. No, you were trying to help him. And he was young, he --

Katija: He was young when Laura left to. Don't you think, somehow, no matter how young he was... That it stays with him? (Stefan bows his head)

Stefan: It's become rather a theme with him. One I don't know how to put an end to.

Katija: And this woman? The one he loved?

Stefan: She was murdered. (Katija blinks)

Katija: Oh... Oh my... Helena?

Stefan: It looked suspicious, she had a very shady past... But given recent developments, it would seem that Nikolas believes that her death occurred at his Grandmother's hand. (Katija exhales. All of this feels far too familiar to her. Her stomach knots)

Katija: Dear Lord, I really am back here, aren't I?

Stefan: You can leave anytime you wish.

Katija: No. (She shakes her head) No. I told you, I believe I still have a penance to pay.

Stefan: You have had the power to destroy this family for over twenty years. (Katija looks up sharply)

Katija: Even if I had wished you and Nikolas a moment's harm -- which I never have -- that would have spelled my death.

Stefan: I don't believe I could allow that to happen. (Katija stares at him)

Katija: If I had betrayed you --

Stefan: You didn't. And you wouldn't. You have nothing to atone for. (he looks up at her, studying her face. She is looking at him, warily, as if she is about to bolt. Her sharp features and tightly crafted hair bun make her look years older and much more severe than she is. If he looks carefully, he can still see the young girl behind this mask. He gives a small, fond smile) You've been long neglected. (Katija pulls in a breath)

Katija: I chose my life. I didn't allow anyone else to make these decisions for me.

Stefan: I hope you understand that I feel gratitude towards you, Katija. And deep respect for your sacrifices.

Katija: I just... I just need to do this. Tell me what you want of me. (Stefan leans in and brushes his lips lightly against hers. Katija makes a sound deep in her throat, nearly alarmed, just as he pulls away from the kiss. She stares at him, astounded. He brushes his hand against her hair and smiles)

Stefan: Nothing but what you can afford to offer. (Katija stares at him in stunned silence, her heart racing in her chest. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then jerks back from him and slaps him hard. She stands up, then realizes what she just did, and turns on her heel, hurriedly exiting the terrace, and nearly knocking over Alexis as she departs. Stefan doesn't observe this, as he is staring at the patio floor in some degree of disturbance.)

Alexis: (looking after Katija) She... (She shakes her head. Stay out of it Natasha, she tells herself, then turns back to Stefan, who is rubbing his cheek self-consciously. She decides to ignore it) I just got off the phone with a contact in Port Charles. You won't believe what we've missed by being out of touch.

Stefan: I can't imagine it's of much importance.

Alexis: I'm sure we'll know how important it is by this evening. Lucky Spencer has been charged with Hannah Hargreave's murder.

Helena's Quarters, The Chimera.

A meal is being served. Dishes laid out with great care, displayed for the mistress's approval then covered again. Helena pays little attention to this activity, merely nodding when her underling glances in her direction. She has more interesting matters to attend to.

Lucky stands at the far end of the room trying to ignore everything that is happening around him. There has to be a way, a part of him seems to be searching out, that can make all of this unreal.

The night before had been long. He hadn't been sleeping -- not the way people usually did -- for longer than he could remember. But all the times he'd been kept up by guilt, by regret, by anger... None of those hours had felt like the long wait for dawn he'd endured last night.

Not that he'd stayed in one place. No, there had been constant movement, being led from place to place -- first by Josef, then by a man who answered to Ari -- someone he recognized from previous visitations Helena had made to Port Charles. Once the storm had cleared, Helena had taken him through some sort of tunnel system under the compound that led down to the docks. She'd been purring strange things to him, mostly in Russian, a language he knew maybe eight words of. He hadn't really heard her, hadn't been able to bring himself out of the protective cocoon his brain had retreated into. Everything around him felt hazy and artificial. Pushed down onto some sort of bench, or rock.... Something -- he'd leaned his head back against the wall behind him and let himself close his eyes. Only for a few seconds, he swore.

In those seconds he'd seen something that had brought him back to the moment like a cold glass or water in the face.

The dream. Emily in front of him, but out of reach -- dropping. Falling away from him.

His eyes flew open to a different reality and didn't shut again.

He wasn't sure when he'd given up. When he'd lost that most basic grip on who he was. Something in him, automatic most of the time, seemed to keep the myth alive... But he'd left the building a long time ago, and suddenly he wanted to come back. He had to come back.

Because Lucky Spencer, whoever he was, was not going to go down like this. He was not giving up the woman he loved for dead just because that was how it looked. He wasn't rolling over and being Helena's lap dog because he couldn't see any other choice.

He wasn't losing control of the situation. He wasn't giving up. He wasn't going to be beaten. There was just no way.

Helena narrows her eyes at Lucky, intently focusing on the determined expression on his face. Two covered plates are placed on the table - one in front of Helena, the other to her immediate right. The covers are removed at Helena's indication on both plates revealing the main course of the prepared meal -- Eggs Benedict. Helena leans back in her chair and watches her quarry as he walks slowly, head down, across the small space of the room. She smiles slightly as she notes that he's pulled the cuffs of his shirt down over his wrists, hiding the chaff marks left by the cuffs. She turns her attention back to the table and takes the lid off one of the dishes. She gingerly scoops the browned potato dish onto the plate to her right.

Helena: (glancing up) Aren't you going to take a seat? (Lucky looks at her pointedly, then turns and paces back to the port hole. Helena picks up a roll) I had Ari prepare a decidedly American spread for us this morning. I find it quaint, and I thought you might appreciate it, after all this time of... What do you do when you're on the road? Eat out of dumpsters? (Lucky says nothing, turning to stare out the porthole) No. You're much more resourceful than that. After all, this time you dragged my grandson into your adventures. Deeper pockets.

Lucky: (with an edge) This adventure was your grandson's idea.

Helena: Which, right there, should have been a sign that you should keep your distance. I know that your father likes to fly the Spencer Banner high, insisting that your family remains ahead in this so-called feud. But it's all a question of perspective, really. (Helena picks up the covers on one of the dishes and starts to serve asparagus spears onto two plates) Well. This is novel -- here I am, serving food to a Spencer who won't even deign to join me at the table. Do you like hollandaise sauce? (No answer) Very well. (She puts down the cover and picks up the gravy boat that holds the thick sauce. She pours it slowly, drizzling it over the asparagus and eggs.) This is an old family recipe. Are you acquainted with my family history, Lucky?

Lucky: What, all the way back to the dawn of the blood sucker? I've read an overview.

Helena: (chuckling) Still beating that horse, are you? You know -- (she pours a bit of the sauce over the plate that is supposedly Lucky's) I do have a somewhat interesting family tree. There's even a little truth to that blood sucking rumor. Though nothing so morbid as all that Bram Stroker climbing-walls, changing into bats nonsense. (She picks up another roll gingerly and places it down on the edge of the plate, artfully) Have you heard of Elizabeth Bathory? The Blood Countess. (She picks up the coffee. She pours it carefully keeping an eye on Lucky, who shifts slightly where he's standing) She was a countess in Sixteenth Century.... A distant cousin or some such thing -- she never had children. No. She was... Rather terrified of aging. Certainly of looking her age. (Helena smiles broadly and Lucky, who has turned slightly, catches the sight of her lips spreading back over her teeth. He tense every muscle in his body as subtly as he can so as not to give away his urge to shudder) She once became cross with hand maiden and hit her across the face. The girl's nose bled, so the story goes, and she felt rejuvenated by the sensation of the warm virgin blood on her hand. She believed it held the power to keep her young. And so she took to bathing in the blood of local virgins. Which rather necessitated the killing of several... Dozen. At least.

Lucky: (flat) What does this have to do with Hollandaise sauce?

Helena: Oh, it just put me in mind of that story... Family, history, recipes... (She takes a bite of her asparagus, and sits back and savors the food) This sauce is divine. It has an extra... Thickening agent. I think it provides additional zest. (Helena takes another bite, noting that Lucky's head has turned slightly) Though.... (She pauses a moment, in deep consideration) I'm not at all certain about the purity of this particular sample. Something... (another pause, she seems to study the taste) Something suggests that Miss Emily's virtue is not entirely in tact. (Upon her utterance of exactly the words Lucky did NOT want to hear, Lucky turns to face her)

Lucky: You're sick. (Helena smiles victoriously)

Helena: Is that any way to speak to your host? (Lucky turns away. He can feel all the blood in his body rush to his head and feels momentarily dizzy. He tries to pull in a breath, but somehow doesn't succeed)

Lucky: Stop it. (Lucky forces himself to swallow against a powerful urge to be sick. This... Mind. He squeezes his eyes shut, turning his back on her, and forces himself not to lose what little grip he still has the power to summon). I know what you're doing.

Helena: (clearly amused) Oh, do tell. (Lucky shakes his head, dismissing her)

Lucky: No. You already got all the reaction out of me you're going to. I'm not eating because of your affinity with poison. I know Emily is alive. Otherwise you'd have nothing to control me with. (Helena gives a slow, sly smile)

Helena: I suggest that you sit down, then. Now. (Lucky stares at her, then turns and moves towards the table. He can't even feel the ground beneath him. Hasn't been able to for hours. He's working on pure autopilot, his brain carrying on while his entire being -- his soul -- has left the building. He pulls out the chair in front of the plate, then stops. He turns the chair around and straddles it -- obeying the command without actually submitting to her. Helena looks amused.) Quaint. (Lucky pushes the plate away from him)

Lucky: (forcing himself to believe his words) I am not eating because you tend to poison people. Not because I believe you.

Helena: My, but I have become a figure of myth and legend.

Lucky: You hit my girlfriend with a car.

Helena: And lord knows what else... (Lucky shakes his head)

Lucky: You have something to say to me, right? That's what this is really all about.

Helena: I would have thought you'd have something to ask.

Lucky: Right... Like... How did you do it? I never asked that question for a second. Never gave it a thought.

Helena: I assume we're talking about Hannah.

Lucky: We are. I am, at least.

Helena: Do you realize just how insignificant that girl is to all of this?

Lucky: To you maybe. She was pretty damn significant to Nikolas.

Helena: My that is touching -- your concern for him. (Lucky looks down, checking himself. He has no idea what she knows, he reminds himself. He has to play everything as close to the vest as possible)

Lucky: She was Emily's aunt.

Helena: Emily. Also not of any great importance. (Lucky tightens his grip on the chair back) No. That's not fair. (She looks across at him) That was what I expected to hear from you -- why her? Why pick her as the weak link to attack?

Lucky: I know why you went after Emily.

Helena: To get to you?

Lucky: Because she's my weak link. And I'm my father's.

Helena: You are. You're more than that, though. Aren't you? You started out to be his golden boy, but you stumbled along the way.

Lucky: You don't know as much as you think.

Helena: I know enough. I know you made choices he didn't approve of. I know you kept secrets from him... He can't approve of you being here. And -- Your work with Mr. Morgan -- I don't believe he understood quite why you did that.

Lucky: (dead) And you do.

Helena: I have my theories. But mostly... I just saw what was there. I have always kept my eyes and ears in Port Charles. Vengeance has a long shelf life.

Lucky: Timoria.

Helena: Yes... That. Which my son so hopelessly bungled. No, that is something of a disgrace I'm afraid. Stefan is and always has been just that -- a disgrace. It's a terrible thing when a child is that disappointing. (Helena sits back, steepling her fingers) When he turns out not as you planned. I knew from the moment that Stefan was born that there was something altogether not natural about him. A mother can tell these things. (Lucky stares down at the ground) Though sometimes parents will blind themselves to the obvious. I think your father suffers from that. Or suffered. Tell me, Lucky. Are his eyes anymore open now? Has he discovered your terrible secret? (Lucky feels the room tip around him. What the hell is this? What does this witch know?)

Lucky: (dully) Which terrible secret is that? (Helena leans forward, a smile playing on her lips)

Helena: (stage whisper) That you're weak. That you carry his blood, but not his soul. (She sits back as she sees Lucky flinch slightly) You have too much of your mother in you. Too much fear, too much selfishness. (examining her nails) I discovered a long time ago that blood is not everything. Like I said -- Stefan. Pure blood Cassadine. Mikkos and my son -- and unworthy of the name in every way. Remarkable, really. But Nikolas. Now, Nikolas is a Cassadine Prince in every sense of the word. In a way no man has been in a long time. (She taps her fingers together, contemplating this) People invest too much in blood. The importance is in spirit. And Nikolas has his grandfather's spirit. He is strong. And determined. And once he casts away that melancholy Stefan has draped him with, he'll make the finest Prince this family has ever seen.

Lucky: (sitting back) You're delusional.

Helena: You think so? Lucky, what do you think it is that I want? I am an aging woman from a time that is -- frankly -- passing. I won't live all that much longer. Decade or two, perhaps... But that's not so much time. Not once you've seen the things I have. Do you want to know what I've seen, Lucky?

Lucky: Do I have a choice?

Helena: I saw a family of proud and strong heritage -- one that survived war and social calamity, one that managed to maintain it's dignity and strength through extreme odds, fall to a handful of idiotic adventurers in evening wear with machine guns. I saw my husband die. I saw my brother-in-law sent to prison. My family name destroyed. Cassadine. The Cassadines, survivors of the Bolsheviks... Seen internationally as a family of loons who tried to freeze the world. (Helena frowns bitterly) I knew that I had to restore our name. And I set about doing that. I can say, safely, that at this moment, I have never been closer to seeing that day. (Lucky stares at her, clearly studying her, sitting back in his chair, his finger tips brushing against his lips) You have something you'd like to say?

Lucky: (dropping his hand, revealing a small smile) It kills you, doesn't it?

Helena: Kills me.

Lucky: (Looking across at her) Your name -- it's not a joke anymore. It hasn't been for years. Stefan -- I don't have a good word to say about the guy, he's a creep. But he's not an international psycho. (he leans forward) Not yet, at least. Your 'name' is doing just fine. (Helena's expression darkens)

Helena: Stefan is a fool. He destroys everything eventually. And as much as he might want to believe it -- Nikolas is not his. He never has been. (Lucky looks away. Ok, one card he still has...) I hardly think I should listen to your opinion of my family and it's future. Do you think you know your so-called "brother"? Do you really understand him? Do you consider yourself family simply because he dragged you along on this jaunt? Nikolas is shrewd. He knows how to exploit his resources. (Lucky feels his guts start to twist -- tightening. He stares at the wall hard, refusing to let anything happening inside of him show) He wanted out -- away from Stefan. He's organizing a coup, did he tell you that? (Slight flicker. Helena smiles) No. No, I'm sure vengeance -- He might even have that on his mind. The question is, vengeance against who?

Lucky: He knows who killed her. You have already lost. This game has been over for years.

Helena: This game hasn't even begun. (She leans forward) Do you not see what has happened here? You were not supposed to be anything more than a tool, Lucky. A convenient way to get what I needed. Initially -- I asked Hannah to watch your family and I hoped that she'd find out who Emily was. That she'd become somehow embroiled in her drama. Now -- you discovering who SHE was. That I didn't expect. I admit it. I am even a little impressed.

Lucky: (dryly) Thanks.

Helena: Hannah telling you that she was working for me... Well, that was certainly a questionable decision on her part. But it all worked out nicely. I already knew a great deal about the shady life you were mapping out for yourself behind your father's back. I knew Hannah's history... It's just remarkable how you two fit together. (Lucky exhales, knowing he can't share what he knows. One move, one card revealed... He gives her a bored look)

Lucky: So you decided to frame me for her murder.

Helena: No, initially I was going to have her help me kill you. (Lucky blinks. He's too tired to pretend to be shocked) But then it became obvious that she was trying to pull something over on me. She had to be illuminated. She wasn't a suitable mate for Nikolas, anyway. A tramp. A coward. I chose a coward for my first son's wife, that didn't... Work. No, she had to go. And you were her executioner. (Lucky looks down at the plate in front of him, idly) Perhaps not in body, Lucky -- but certainly in spirit. The fact that the gun was not in your hand... That's of precious little consequence.

Lucky: Nikolas won't believe you.

Helena: Why is that?

Lucky: (smirking at her) Because you killed the one person in this world who loved him. Trust me on this. His track record? It's pathetic. I think most things about him are pretty pathetic.

Helena: And yet, here you are.

Lucky: (shrugging) He's my mother's son. She's attached.

Helena: (patronizing) Please. Do you really expect me to believe that? Why is it your father knew so little regarding Hannah? Was that your keen sense of family loyalty at work? Or was that an attempt to show him just how grown up you really are?

Lucky: Don't analyze me.

Helena: I don't know where to start. Look at you. You're a handsome young man. Clearly share your father's weakness for damsels in distress -- a part of you must enjoy this. Enjoy the intrigue? The prospect of saving your beloved?

Lucky: About as much as you're going to enjoy having Nikolas spit in your face.

Helena: You greatly underestimate the bond between my grandson and I.

Lucky: (laughing) Do you know a damn thing about him? "Nikolas is shrewd, Nikolas is strong"? Nikolas is a basket case. He's got enough complexes to occupy a couple of dozen shrinks round the clock. And right now, every single fiber of his being is focused on taking you down. You will never get what you want from him.

Helena: You're not listening to me, Lucky. I didn't kill her. You did. And Nikolas knows that. He knows that in his heart -- and he also knows that she is not the only one to ever loved him. Stefan has told him lies -- all his life. He has no idea of the truths I have to share. The strongest and most undeniable one is that I LOVE my grandson. With all my soul.

Lucky: (snorting) Well, that's an expansive statement.

Helena: Just where do you think Nikolas is right now, Lucky? (Lucky looks over at her) Where do you think he went? Do you not think that he knew I was here? Did you think that I allowed something to happen to him? That I abducted him against his will? He's here. And he's here because he came himself. And he had no further use for you.

Lucky: (after a moment) You're lying.

Helena: I don't expect you to understand. But perhaps you can comprehend this much. Your life as you know it -- is over. I will have my grandson back. I will have my family restored... And I will finally have my revenge against your parents. By sundown today. Winner takes all. (Lucky turns his focus to the back of his hands. The smell of the food making him sick. What the hell is she up to? What... What's going ON here? He needs time. He consented to this to get a feel for the woman, but now he be somewhere else. God, he needs... He needs Emily. He needs her to look at him and say the same things she's been trying to beat into him for all these months. He needs to know what's real again. He feels his chest tighten again at the momentary threat that he might not see her again. He swallows hard)

Lucky: Are you done?

Helena: You don't believe me. You honest think that you have some sort of bond with my grandson? That he'd request your life be spared?

Lucky: I don't think Nikolas gives a damn about me. (he exhales. Those words... They feel worse then he'd thought they would) But he really fond of Emily and if you --

Helena: I was wondering when you'd get to that. I think the time has come. You've been... Less than a terrible dining companion. Not by much, but a little less atrocious than you could have been. I think I can grant you a request. Is there something you'd like? (Lucky continues to stare at the back of his hands. He knows what she wants him to do. He knows she'll get some sort of perverse pleasure out of hearing him say the words, God knows why. But has to do it.

Lucky: (quietly) I want to see Emily.

Helena: What's the magic word? (Lucky resists a strong urge to cringe. Or throw something. He grits his teeth instead and pulls in a breath) Lucky: Please. (Helena sits back, satisfied)

Helena: Well. I suppose that now is as a good a time as any. (she stands up) A wish before dying. (Lucky closes his eyes)

Lucky: So I'm dying, am I? (Helena laughs and crosses to him. She puts her hand under his chin and raises his head so that he is looking up into her eyes)

Helena: I thought that part was self-evident. (Lucky looks up at her, his expression completely and blank.)

Lucky: I should have had the hollandaise sauce.

Helena: Well. It wouldn't have killed you. (Lucky turns his head away, jerking away from her touch. He closes his eyes, trying to grab onto some feeling at this revelation. Oddly... None comes. He smiles slightly, then turns and looks up at Helena.)

Lucky: Ok then. Take me to her.