Chapter Two Hundred Six:
Reality Bites

The Cassadine Compound

Luke Spencer stands in the entrance of the Great Hall, leaning against the door frame, and taking in the surroundings. Five servants are lined up like army cadets awaiting inspection. The tall dark one -- the one who had met them at the dock, was at the head, his hands clasped dutifully behind his back, as he departed information to Heir Cassadine in rapid and softly-spoken Greek.

It was like a whole room of people cut from the same cloth as that shrinking violet they had left on the mainland. All of them standing just as rigid, their faces just as blank. But he could tell. He could feel the tension in the room, and he knew that he was at the root of it. If there was one thing Luke could do it was know when he was causing a disturbance. He'd always been able to feel where the boundaries were, who was an easy mark. Life skill. It was killing him not to see just how fast this place would go up if he just pushed the right button...

Not the time. Though, he thinks mildly, the boom has already been lowered. Exactly what he'd refused to let himself think, had already been revealed two seconds after stepping onto the dock. Lucky wasn't here.

At least... not as far as anyone knew.

Glancing to the side, Luke lets his eyes settle on Laura. She is standing stock-still, her shoulders back and head tipped up. He can't tell where her eyes rest, but he can feel from her

So easy to just slide up to her, wrap his arm around her waist, and let her lean back on him. Always had been. Acts of love, he'd considered them. Nothing he wouldn't do for that woman, nowhere he wouldn't go. Ain't no mountain high enough, and all that jazz. He thought that was what he was supposed to do. And he didn't know what to do about the fact that everything Laura was saying, everything she believed right now, made all that stuff wrong.

When his brain finally found a way to grasp that, he knew it was going to hurt like hell. But right now, nothing was real to him. No way to make it real, either. He was standing here -- an invited guest -- in the Cassadine Compound. WAITING for Stefan Cassadine to come over and impart information. Spin, Mikkos, spin, he thinks mildly.

Too bad he can't enjoy the irony.

A part of him had never believed it would go on this long. From the moment he'd found out that Lucky had left PC, he's never really believed that this much time would elapse before he heard something. And not from Jason Morgan, or some old friend of Sonny's. Not from Caroline or The Brat Prince. No. he thought that somehow, Lucky would reach out. Not once had he picked up the phone at the club or flipped open his cell phone, that he hadn't hoped it would be his son. He still couldn't truly grasp what everyone kept trying to tell him. What they all wanted him to believe.

Lucky didn't want to be found.

Yeah, well... Luke shifts his weight, casting his eyes to the floor and scowling. If that was what Lucky wanted, then Lucky was wrong. And he'd make him see that, when he got his hands on the kid.

He'd just NEVER thought it would be this hard to GET his hands on the kid! He turns his head, suppressing the powerful urge to just hit something. God, he could do serious damage without any guilt or care in this place.

But instead he stands here, mute and impotent, and waits.

There is noise across the room, and Luke glances up to see the assembled meeting of Cassadine drones departing. The four house servants turn and scurry out of the hall. Alexis has turned towards him, and strides purposefully across the hall. Oh, great, he thinks. This oughta be good. He notes behind Alexis, that Stefan and "Igor the Dock Boy" are heading towards the staircase. He frowns and takes a step forward, already protesting as Alexis approaches.

Luke: Where he hell is he going?

Alexis: So you are still with us. (Luke shoots her an annoyed look)

Luke: You got news for me, Natasha? (Alexis looks up to see Laura has turned to look at them. She gestures to her, and Laura crosses over to them, walking up to them, her arms crossed protectively across her chest.)

Laura: What's going on? (Alexis takes a deep breath)

Alexis: They aren't here.

Luke: Yeah, I got that part.

Alexis: No. They... They're saying they haven't been here at all. (Laura inhales sharply)

Laura: That's impossible.

Luke: (narrowing his eyes) That's what they are saying, huh?

Alexis: They have no reason to lie to us, Luke. (Luke glances at Laura, but she does not meet his gaze. He turns back to Alexis, a very patronizing expression on his face)

Luke: Please tell me you're just trying to get rid of me. Don't disillusion me now, Counselor. You're not this naive. (Alexis stifles a groan and looks up at the ceiling)

Alexis: Do you want me to make up stories for you Luke? Would that make you feel better? (She looks back at him) Lucky is not here. He never was here. This isn't any better for me than it is for you. (Luke furrows his brow)

Luke: Where is "Renfield in Training" taking Count Vlad?

Alexis: I assume you mean Josef. He wanted to make a call back to Port Charles and check in with our sources. But this looks like this might be a dead end. (Luke smirks)

Luke: Come on. You don't believe that anymore than I do.

Alexis: (after a moment) You have no idea what I believe, Luke. (Laura turns and takes a few steps from them, removing herself from the conversation. Luke and Alexis both acknowledge this, but Luke pushes on.)

Luke: Yeah, well, I know what I was told.

Alexis: And about that, Luke. Who was it that did the telling? (Luke dismisses the question)

Luke: Lucky is around here some place. If he's not on his way here, then he's already come and gone. Just no way of knowing if your manservant there would have a clue about it. (Alexis looks down at the ground, gritting her teeth. She pulls in a long breath, then looks up)

Alexis: Well, you are welcome to scour the grounds Luke -- Like I could stop you. But other than that... You're just going to have to wait. (Alexis turns on her heels and back across the floor. Luke stares after her, then glances over and sees Laura looking at him. She smiles wanly, then turns herself, and walks over to a chair, sitting down and staring off into space. After a moment, Luke also turns, and walks out of the front door, back into the light.)

At the top of the stairs, Stefan pauses behind Josef and looks at an empty space at the top of the landing. He frowns.

Stefan: Josef. (Josef stops and turns smoothly, his expression blank)

Josef: Yes, My Count.

Stefan: The bust of my brother... it was being displayed here, was it not?

Josef: It's been removed. For cleaning.

Stefan: I see.

Josef: I can have it returned early --

Stefan: That's not necessary. I was simply inquiring. (Stefan casts his eyes down over the edge of the bannister. He notes a mark on the marble floor below. He raises his head quickly, not allowing his eyes to meet Josef's again) All is in order. Lead on.

Helena's Yacht.

Lucky freezes at the blood curdling scream coming from the formerly sleeping Emily. He has never heard a sound like that from her, and it makes his heart stop. He is entirely unprepared for her sudden attack, flailing in his arms and trying desperately to push away from him. Lucky tightens his grip on her, his mind leaping to the conclusion that she's having another seizure. This is quickly proven to be false and Emily lets out another frantic scream, thrashing violently. Lucky lets go of her, just as he feels a sharp sting under his eye. Emily scrambles across the bed, to the farthest possible corner from him, her breathing rapid and uneven. Lucky stares at her, and slowly lifts his hand to his cheek, running his index finger across the skin. He lowers his hand, and looks down at his fingertips.

Blood.

Lucky stares at the thick red fluid on his hand, trying to fathom what just happened. She SCRATCHED him. Purposely. He looks up at her, in complete shock.

Lucky: Em ?

Em: (pressing herself back against the headboard) Get away from me. (Lucky feels himself begin to gape at her, as his brain struggles valiantly to try to comprehend what is going on here. He shakes his head slowly, unable to come up with an answer. His body leans, without conscious permission, towards her. Emily reaches up, her eyes fixed on him, and grabs the heavy oak rungs on the headboard, gripping them as if her life depends on it.) You get any closer to me, I'll kill you, I swear to God. (Lucky stares at her, and raises his hands slowly, displaying his palms to her)

Lucky: (slowly) I'm not going to hurt you. (Lucky hears the words, and can't really believe they are coming out of his mouth. She sinks down on the bed, her knees up to her chest. She just stares at him, breathing hard. Lucky tries again) I promise, Emily, I'm not going to hurt you. (Emily looks up sharply, her eyes meeting his directly for the first time since she first screamed. Lucky holds his breath, waiting for her to do something, say something, make some kind of move. After a moment, her eyes dart quickly to the side, and Lucky -- acting on pure reflex-- finds himself reaching out for her just as she propels herself off the bed in a roll. He grabs her arm as her feet hit the floor, and Emily spins back to him, grabbing his wrist with her free hand, and digging her fingernails into his skin. Lucky drops her wrist, pulling his arm back, and swearing under his breath. This time, she did not succeed in breaking the skin. Emily turns and stumbles, unsteadily, Lucky notices, across the room. She stops at the wall, and leans against it, trying to catch her breath over this minor exertion. Lucky holds his wrist, rubbing it mildly, and watching her. She moves along the wall a little, to the door Lucky entered through. She runs her hands over the smooth paneling, over the area the door knob should be. She turns and looks at Lucky over her shoulder, accusingly.)

Lucky: (quietly) I can't open it. (Emily glares at him, and pushes at the door in frustration.)

Em: How'd you get in here, then?

Lucky: She let me in. (Emily lets out a high pitched laugh, and shakes her head. She leans her back on the door, and crosses her arms across her chest. She mutters something under her breath. Lucky furrows his brow and gets up to move to her. Emily's head snaps up.)

Em: Hey! (She points at him threateningly) Stay there. (Lucky holds his hand up again, and sits back down on the edge of the bed)

Lucky: OK, Ok! I get it! (He takes a few steps back) Back off. I get it. (Emily stares at him a moment, then looks away, looking suddenly fatigued)

Em: (muttering) Get out of here. (Lucky watches her, still floundering in confusion. He opens his mouth, and after a moment, finds words to form)

Lucky: I... I'm sorry, all right? I am, Emily. I just... I can't even think straight right now. Just... (He takes a deep breath) Give me a break for five seconds so that I can catch up, Ok? (Emily laughs derisively and slides down the wall, pulling her knees up and tucking them under her chin).

Em: (quietly) Catch up... (Lucky shakes his head slightly. Ok. That didn't get him scratched... He clears his throat, deciding to continue with this tact)

Lucky: I... I'm lost. I am. I'm missing a chapter or something here. (Emily wraps her arms around her legs and puts her head down on her knees. She lets out a high pitched squeak, the meaning of which eludes Lucky. He just can't help but feel it's a bad thing) That... doesn't matter. Em... I'm just... I didn't know if you were alive or not, I didn't... (Her head snaps up again and she looks at him, her eyes wide)

Em: Why can't you leave me alone?

Lucky: I... What?

Em: (breathy) Just leave me ALONE. Please. God, please... Do you want me to beg you? I can. I can, just give me a... chance.

Lucky: (paling) Emily... (Emily's face crumples, tears spilling from her eyes as she moves her hands to hold her stomach. She looks sick, Lucky thinks. Flushed and pale at the same time. He notices that there are dark circles under her eyes red-rimmed eyes. Her hair is just a little damp around her forehead, indicating that she's been perspiring. He can see a slight tremor in her shoulders and arms with every exhalation)

Lucky: Em... Please. Just tell me what's wrong. (Emily puts her head down, letting herself sob. Lucky gestures with his hands uselessly. Oh God... What is he supposed to do? Watch? He can't make any sense out of this, but he knows this girl, and there is no way on earth he can believe she wants him to stay over here and sit on his hands while she's in pain. He moves slightly, deciding to cautiously approach her.)

Em: (not looking up, moaning) Lucky...

Lucky: What?

Em: God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Lucky: Don't -- (Emily turns her body, letting herself fall into the corner, huddled in a near fetal position. Lucky's mouth goes dry, unable to come up with any words. He lets out a long breath) Em. (She is breathing heavily, still, her face pressed, now, against the wall. She looks like she's shutting herself, desperately and quite purposely, away from him. He stands up, unable to sit idly by, and crosses the room quickly, stopping a good 6 feet away from her. If he takes another step towards her, he's probably going to get maimed again...

Ah, hell. At this point, what did it matter?

Lucky crouches down to the ground, cautiously, his eyes fixed on her. He moves towards her carefully, crawling across the lush carpeting, like he's approaching a sick and frightened animal.)

Lucky: (very softly, almost musically) It's Ok. It's going to be Ok, Emily. I promise you. (Emily lets out a slight moan. Lucky stops, wincing at the sound. He takes a deep fortifying breath, and continues to move towards her, as slowly and obviously as possible) I'll take care of you. If you let me, I swear -- (He reaches out, very purposeful in his movements. Emily doesn't look up, or even acknowledge his presence. Lucky wants to just grab her, to pull her to him and hold her, whether she tries to maul him or not.

Probably not a good idea, he tells himself sternly, and instead lets himself lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. It seems to be all right, a few moments passing, before Emily's eyes fly open again and she jerks violently, he head hitting the wall, in an attempt to get away from him. Lucky has her effectively cornered, however, and she has no place to run.

Em: Don't! (She puts her hands up against the walls, scrambling uselessly on the carpet, trying to get her footing. Lucky stops dead. God DAMNIT, a voice inside his head screams. This is insane. He wants to say that, he wants to just have a complete fit, but looking at her, at the sincere fear in her eyes, a quiet sinking feeling deep in his gut finally manages to work it's way up to his brain. He swallows hard. He knows what is going on here. He wishes to God he didn't, but he knows.)

Lucky: (slowly) Emily... Do you know who I am? (She says nothing, but stops her flailing and turns her face from him, breaking into a low keening. Lucky feels his stomach flip in confirmation. Jesus Christ, what did they do to her? He lets his head drop. What the hell does he do now?) God, help me out here... (He shakes his head hard, then looks up at her) Ok, Emily. Look at me. (She doesn't, instead continuing her dreadful moans and scratching at the wall. Lucky reaches out, suddenly determined, and grabs her wrist. Emily's attention is immediately back on him, and she moves to fight him again. Lucky quickly grabs the other wrist firmly, and leans towards her. Emily starts to flail again, managing to get up on her knees in the fight. Lucky, just trying to retrain her, does the same) Hey. Hey -- (He twists Emily around as she fights against him, and ends up with one arm securely around her waist, the other managing, with some effort, to grab her wrist. Josef's words suddenly fly back to him, "What can I tell you? She fought..." He pushes the thought away, realizing that the only reason he's managing to restrain her right now is because she's clearly fatigued.

Not to mention drugged out of her mind. He'd bet anything on that.

He pulls her back firmly against him, and holds her tightly as she squirms to get away) Emily, STOP, PLEASE! Please stop. Please? (Emily lets out a growl of frustration and drops, letting herself become a dead weight against her. He exhales, still holding her firmly) Ok. I'm impressed. (he gives a slight laugh) Just... listen to me for a second, Ok? (She says nothing, though he can feel her tense against him, just a little) I don't want to do this, Ok? But I need you to listen to me. (He closes his eyes) I need you to answer a question, Ok? (Emily gives a sharp and derisive laugh. Lucky cringes. God, he doesn't want to do this) Just listen to me, and... (deep breath) I'll let you see, Lucky, Ok? I'll bring him to you. Is that what you want? Is that what you're looking for? (Emily's breathing changes slightly and he feels her pull away from him slightly, taking her weight back)

Em: (hissing) Liar.

Lucky: NO. No, not this time. Listen. Just listen to me, I know you're confused.

Em: I'm not CONFUSED! (She pulls away and Lucky has to jerk her back to him, hard.)

Lucky: LISTEN TO ME! I know what's going on. I can help you. I can help you, just listen.

Em: Help me? (Emily laughs, more than a little hysterical) No one's going to help me! (Lucky squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in her hair)

Lucky: (Through clenched teeth) Give me a chance. (Emily says nothing, but he feels her go limp against him again, still laughing in a way that unnerves him completely)

Em: Fine... Fine -- what do I have to lose.

Lucky: Nothing. (He swallows hard at the truth in the statement) This won't hurt, I promise. Just... answer a question for me. (Emily says nothing) Just... tell me who I am. (he opens his eyes, and waits. She says nothing. He lifts his head) Emily --

Em: (cutting off her name) What do you want from me? (Lucky can hear the edge of fear in her voice. God, he thinks... Hell can't be any worse than this)

Lucky: I want to help you. That's all I'm trying to do here. I"m in just as much trouble as you are.

Em: (Leaning back against him) That's not possible.

Lucky: Believe me, it is. It is. (Emily lets him hold her weight, panting for breath)

Em: (quietly) Let go of me.

Lucky: Let... go?

Em: (squirming in his embrace) Let go of me... act of faith. (Lucky realizes, much to his horror, that he doesn't trust her not to try to hurt him again. He swallows hard)

Lucky: Just answer the question, I'll let go. I promise. Then we can try this again. You'll have a reason to trust me, I'll have a reason to trust you. (Emily opens her eyes. She tries to look back at him, then exhales and gives up)

Em: I don't remember the question.

Lucky: (taking a deep breath) Who do you think I am?

Em: (after a long pause) I don't know. (Lucky closes his eyes. He's not sure if, at this point, that's good or bad news. He lets his grip on her loosen, and Emily immediately pulls away and goes to her corner, huddling herself there, and looking back warily at the figure in front of her. Her hands hold the wall like a security blanket. She runs her hands up and down the wall paper. Hard. Cool. Real. Not like anything else. All the things she's not touching right now, that are moving in front of her as if they were all made of liquid. She looks down at the carpet, which appears to be lapping at her feet. God... she's exhausted. She feels her knees weaken, and considers just sliding down to the floor and sleeping.)

Lucky: Do I (Emily looks up sharply at the voice. Oh right... someone is here) ... at least.... Look like someone you know? (He looks over at her, his eyes pleading. Emily squints at him, then shakes her head. She isn't really seeing anything more than light and color -- at least she can tell he's not Josef. Not strong enough -- or big enough -- for him. His voice sounds disembodied and weird. She turns away and looks at the light that is shooting up in waves from the lamp in the corner. Much less disturbing than looking at something living. At least light is SUPPOSED to be inconstant. She hears a sound of suffering come from the room's other occupant. God, she wishes he'd go away)

Em: (distantly) Never seen you before in my life. (a few short feet away, Lucky tries to digest that sentence. This is, no doubt, not good. Christ, she must be messed up, not to know who he is at all. And he can tell that, just from her state. How sick she looks, how much work everything is for her. He drops his head)

Lucky: What if I said I know where Lucky is... Would you be interested? (Lucky notes Emily tense)

Em: (after a moment, tense) I know where Lucky is.

Lucky: Yeah? (Emily bites her lip, hard. It trembles violently.) Where is he? (She doesn't answer. Lucky notices that she's started to shake. She mouths the word 'please'. He feels his guts twist.)

Em: (high-pitched, desperate) Can you tell me how long I've been here?

Lucky: Em--

Emily: And how do you know my NAME? (She turns on him, accusingly) What gives you the right to use it? Huh? (Her voice is very thin, and forced. Lucky reaches out a hand to her)

Lucky: It's Ok --

Em: No! (She looks at him, her eyes suddenly wild again) NOTHING is Ok! Don't you get that? NOTHING is ever going to be Ok again! (She leans back against the wall, tears spilling from her eyes, and lets herself slide down the wall, curling up in a ball once she hits the room, her head back on her knees) Stop talking about him, just... stop it. (Lucky stares at her, gripped with yet another realization. God, if he gets out of this room, Helena is going to suffer something fierce. Vengeance is beginning to take on an entirely new meaning for him. He takes a step towards Emily)

Lucky: If she told you I was dead, it's a lie. (It takes Emily a moment to hear that. She lifts her head, finally, but doesn't look at him)

Em: If she... what?

Lucky: Emily, come on. Listen to me. LOOK at me. Just... It's Lucky. I AM Lucky. Got it? Can't you see that? (Emily looks up at him, dazed)

Em: (after a moment) Stop it.

Lucky: Don't do this to yourself, don't. I spent the last twelve hours trying not to do this about you. She pretty much told me she'd killed you. Got it? That's how she got me to come here. That's why I let her put me in this room -- because she said you were there. And... (he takes a breath, actually allowing himself a smile) And you are. Which means.. Nothing is as bad as I thought it was ten minutes ago. And right now, that's about the only thing -- (Emily jumps, catching her breath in her throat)

Emily: (hissing) Shut up!

Lucky: It was a lie, Emily.

Em: SHUT UP! Shut up, shut up shut UP! (She shakes her head violently) I'd know if you were him, I'd know.

Lucky: Can you see me? (He crouches down and reaches out, putting his hand under her chin. Emily jerks violently, but looks at him with pure hatred)

Em: DON'T!

Lucky: CAN YOU?

Em: (screaming back) NO! (Lucky exhales. Ok. Ok, at least this is beginning to make sense)

Lucky: Good. Ok. That... explains something. (he takes a breath) But you can hear me. (Emily shakes her head again, clearly finding all of this to be disjointed and confusing. Lucky takes a deep breath) You can see something, right? You can hear... something. So listen to what I'm saying. Just pay attention to the words. (She looks up at him, again. He distinctly sees just a small flicker of trust -- of hope -- in her eyes. He smiles at it, his body relaxing with relief. He's going to win this round) You've only been here for a few hours. And Helena must have drugged you. Whatever it is, it's potent, and its messing with your mind. Badly. You got that much? (after a moment, Emily nods slightly) Ok. Then... just listen to me. I know what happened. I know Josef grabbed you. I know you hurt him -- you bit his wrist, right? Cut him up? I saw it. (Emily's mouth twitches, but she says nothing) God, it's me, Emily. It's me, and I... I don't even know what to say to you. I wanna say I'm sorry, I wanna say I tried to protect you -- I did. I really did -- but... I'm also so damned glad to see you alive, I can't even... I can't even put words on it. I just... I really want to hold you, but I don't want you to scratch me again. (He holds up his hands) You're good at that. It hurts. (Emily's mouth twitches more violently, fighting between a smile and breaking down into tears. Lucky feels his heart break a little for her) You want more? I can do that. (Emily says nothing, still struggling hard against her emotions, he looks away, focusing at a spot over her head, and trying to gather his thoughts)) Uh.... Ok. We met at Kelly's.... Ok, that's not so good, a lot of people know that. (he shakes his head) We were really good friends... and then we weren't. But you really wouldn't let me go -- you fought really for us. And you braved... my moods... and Lizzie Webber... and a ravine in a rainstorm -- (Emily cuts him off, with a sharp laugh. Lucky looks back at her, just in time to see the laugh dissolve into tears. ) Hey, it's Ok. It is. (he reaches out his hand again) You believe me, yet? (Emily shakes her head, clearly overwrought. Lucky lets his hand stay, outstretched towards her) Ok, you... My hand's right here, you just grab it when you're ready. I'm not going anywhere.

Em: (choking) Lucky.

Lucky: Yeah. Yeah, it's me.

Em: (shaking her head) No...

Lucky: I swear to God, Baby. I swear, I'd never leave you. Not like that. No way in hell.

Em: (shuddering, catching her breath) I don't...

Lucky: (very quickly) I know, not enough... (he shakes his head, trying to think of things to tell her) You... you killed a rattlesnake with a rock. You won't play pool with me anymore because you only beat me once and you want to stay defending champ. You... hate musicals, but you LIKE Opera -- God knows why -- and you STILL wear the same winter boots you've had since you were fourteen, even though you've got enough money to buy a couple of hundred a season. And... (he closes his eyes) And you're everything to me. You gotta know that. You're the only reason I'm still on this planet. You keep me sane, you keep me in touch, you keep me going, even when every part of me just want to drop, and right now I would do anything if you would just LOOK at me and know who I WAS -- (Emily lets out a sharp cry, and Lucky opens his eyes just in time to feel her hurl herself against him. Unsteady in his crouched position, Lucky falls over backwards onto the floor, Emily landing on top of him. Her arms wind around his neck, holding him tightly, while sobbing uncontrollably against his shoulder. Lucky's arms move up and around her, one hand buried in her hair, the other holding her against him. He turns his face against her hair, and breaths deeply, letting himself surrender to his own tears) God, Emily. (They hold each other, desperately, until finally the flood of emotion stills, leaving them both exhausted, Emily lying on Lucky's chest, her head rising and falling with his breath. She closes her eyes).

Em: I'm going to be sick.

Lucky: That's Ok. I can handle that.

Em: (beginning to whimper a bit, having spent her tears) I am sick! (Lucky feels her start to pull away from him, and struggles up to a sitting position)

Lucky: No... No, Emily. It's all Ok. It's going to be Ok. (Emily sits back, shaking her head)

Em: Say something.

Lucky: (Moving to her) Like what?

Em: Anything. Just tell me something. Tell me something real. (Lucky looks around)

Lucky: We're on the boat. We're on that yacht. (he winces) Is that real enough?

Em: (shaking her head) No. Something that makes you real. Something real. (Lucky opens his mouth to say something, then looks at her, sitting back on her knees, looking at him. He gives a slightly smile, then leans forwards, threading his hand through her hair, and brings his mouth to hers, kissing her -- first softly, gently -- then deeper, pulling her closer to him. The kiss comes to a natural end, and he pulls back, looking into her eyes. They are unfocused, unseeing. He feels a twinge in his stomach, but forces a charming smile -- doing a remarkably convincing job of pretending nothing in the world is out of place.)

Lucky: Does that make me real? (Emily looks at him, blinking, then leans herself against him)

Em: Nothing is real. (She exhales, closing her eyes. Lucky, feeling more than a little spooky, slowly lifts his hand and touches her hair. She's right... nothing about this feels real. She sighs against him, her breath shuddering through her. When she speaks, her voice is thick) I'm glad you're not dead. (Lucky leans down and kisses the top of her head)

Lucky: Ditto.

Cassadine Compound.

Luke Spencer paces around the side garden of the behemoth Cassadine Manse. He's feeling violently angry, though he can't seem to pick just one target for his rage. Every time he tries to turn it in a specific direction, his brain stubbornly returns to just how LITTLE sense this makes.

He would have bet his club, his blues collection, his LIFE that Lucky had been on his way to this rock. He was sure of it, absolutely certain. He didn't believe for a second that this was the dead end it appeared to be. No way in hell.

Except that something was nagging on him. A voice in the back of his head, that wouldn't shut UP, no matter how many times he walked back and forth of this pathetic little parcel of land.

He would have bet his life against the odds of any of this happening. That was what stopped him cold. None of it really made sense to him. Lucky -- keeping secrets, lying, running off to help a Cassadine... It was all outside the realm of possibility. But everything around him -- even the words he'd seen come out of his own son's mouth -- pointed in that direction. And that suggested that he didn't, when it came right down to it, know his ass from his elbow where Lucky was concerned.

Luke shakes his head hard. Impossible. IMPOSSIBLE. Lucky was a part of him, he always had been. And there had to be a piece of the puzzle he was missing, some kind of key, something that made this all make sense.

But to figure that out, he was going to have to find the kid, and DAMNIT he was running out of ways to do that.

You taught him too well, Spencer, Luke thinks to himself. He swears violently under his breath, stopping his pacing to stare out at the sea in front of him. He lets himself get lost in the sight, sinking into the rhythm of the distant waves, letting it help still his mind for a moment.

The cell phone in his pocket rings.

Luke reaches into his jacket and pulls out the phone, something he'd turned on just a few minutes earlier, in the whirlwind exploration of choices he'd been sifting thought. He answers the phone, not taking his eyes off the Aegean.

Luke: Spencer. (Luke hears a female voice come over the line, high-pitched and with an edge of hysteria. It has the effect of being hit with a cold bucket of water.)

Carly: Where the hell have you BEEN?

Luke: I told you I wasn't gonna be answering this phone.

Carly: Yeah, well. I took a chance. You know, I don't know what this "incommunicado" thing you have is about -- but it's HELL for those of us stuck here in PC.

Luke: (wincing) What time is it, Caroline?

Carly: Really really late. (She stops and pulls in a breath) Luke...? (her voice, without the anger, shakes. Luke's shoulders tense in preparation. )

Luke: What's going on, Darlin'?

Carly: Everything. (a male voice in the back ground says something Luke can't quite make out. He hears Carly exhale an unsteady breath) There's... there's something here you have to listen to.

Luke: Where is here?

Carly: The club. Claude called me. (Again, Luke hears the voice, which seems to be protesting. Carly covers the receiver, but Luke still hears her, muffled) He HAS to! (she uncovers the mouthpiece) Just... You have to hear this...

Luke: Hear what? (Carly has passed the phone away, and Luke hears the voice again -- Enough to decide that's it's probably Morgan. There'a a slight argument, and then he hears Carly's voice, sharp and commanding. A couple of seconds later, he hears the sound of an answering machine tape squealing as it's rewound. He catches his breath just as the tape starts to play again, revealing a breathy, but familiar laugh. Luke's blood runs cold as the voice starts to speak.)

Answering Machine: (low, becomes clearer) ... this for desperate, Dad? You know Emily tried to get me to do that in New York -- God, I didn't think there was anything to get me to do this. (Luke's mouth opens slightly, as if he's about to respond to the words.) I messed up Dad. I messed up worse than I did when I was home. I know... I know you don't want to hear this. I know I'm the reason you're gone, huh? I don't blame ya, I didn't want to stick around for that freak show either... I think I lost. Already. Knocked out in the first round. It's pretty pathetic, Emily kept saying that I was doing this to redeem myself to you or something. And I just shut that down, but I'm looking at this right now and... I don't know if I'm going to get out of this. I don't know if I want to anymore. Not if Em... (There is a sound, something like a voice saying "enough" and the message is stopped. Carly's voice comes over the line again)

Carly: Luke? (Luke stares out at the water. He blinks suddenly, and large tears fall from his eyes, splashing on the rocks at his feet) Luke, there's more, but -- (Luke hangs up without another word, folding up the phone in a quick motion. He continues to stare at the sea, his jaw tight, while his long fingers close over the warmed plastic of his cell phone. He tightens his grip on the phone, then, in a sudden motion, pitches the phone as far as he can, over the edge of the cliff, letting out a half-grunt, half gut-wrentched cry of anguish. The cell sails through the air, and descends in an arch, into the water, which hold the certain promise of smashing the thing to bits on the rocks. He turns, his fists hitting the air in impotent frustration.

Luke: (roaring) DAMNIT LUCKY! God DAMN it! (he covers his face, fighting hard against tears) God damn you, what are you trying to do to me, kid? What are you trying to do to me? (He rocks himself on his heels, holding his head and trying to get a grip. His breathing is ragged and uneven, words reverberate in his head. He starts to mutter under his breath) 'I'm the reason you're gone...' -- I'm the reason you're GONE? (Luke raises his head and screams towards the sky) DAMN STRAIGHT you're the reason I'm gone! What the HELL do you think I'm gonna do, Cowboy? Leave ya to ROT? (he laughs maniacally) What the hell is going through your mind? (Luke shakes his head, sputtering out laughter that sounds dangerously close to a sob. He hears a sound behind him, and turns quickly, prepared to take down whoever is intruding. He stops dead at the sight of a pale and terrified Cassadine drone. His manic expression fades, and he takes a step back, eying the girl warily) Lookin' for something? (Mariah, nearly shaking from top to bottom, looks over her shoulder, then back at Luke)

Mariah: I... I thought I'd seen you come out here. I... I wanted -- Luke: You wanted what? (Mariah closes her eyes, and pulls in a breath)

Mariah: Mr. Spencer... (Mariah's hands clench into fists, and she opens her eyes, looking at Luke like she's staring down a semi on an abandoned highway. He exhales and narrows his eyes at her)

Luke: Yeah?

Mariah: You... look for your son. (She clears her throat hard) You seek him? (Luke feels his heart thud hard in his chest. Damnit... the girl's waken up some shred of hope in there. He steadies himself, and forces his facial muscles to relax.)

Luke: Yes.

Mariah: That is all? (Luke looks back over his shoulder, as if looking for another reason he might be there. He turns back to her) Luke: Yeah, that's all. That's the whole enchilada. (Mariah looks away, twisting a pendant on the chain she wears around her neck. She swallows hard, then looks back at Luke, taking a deep breath.)

Mariah: Mr. Spencer... I have seen him.

Nikolas's Suite, the Chimera.

Helena blinks large, innocent eyes at her grandson, then furrows her brow in concern. She turns slightly, resting her hand on the open door.

Helena: Nikolas. Are you feeling unwell? (Nikolas look up at her, his eyes wild. He tosses a quick look over his shoulder, then chuckles and sits down on the bed)

Nik: Am I feeling? At all? (He shakes his head, laughter escaping in short, mirthless bursts) I don't know. I don't know. (Helena's eyes narrow as Nikolas drops his head in to his hands. She tisks her tongue, a slight gesture, making almost no sound. She turns and closes the door firmly behind her, closing the Prince away from any other eyes. Here she had tried to be subtle, but this was an inexact science, and there were risks involved in any venture. She had taken as many as she dared with Nikolas already. But there was no argument for pulling punches at this late date. She turns back, the door clicking soundly, and crosses towards her grandson with purpose and no hint of conscience. Nikolas looks up sharply as she approaches.) Kindly... keep your distance. (His voice sounds gravelly, now -- like he hasn't spoken in years. Helena, taking her cue, stops dead)

Helena: Nikolas.

Nik: Are you going to scold me now, too? Really, grandmother, I've had more than enough discipline from you for the moment. (He drops his head again. God, he feels awful....)

Helena: I wish you knew how your words wound me, Nikolas. I wish you could see --

Nik: I've seen ENOUGH. (Nikolas looks up at her again) Don't you think? For the time being.

Helena: Nikolas... you really do look unwell.

Nik: (narrowing his eyes) Yeah. Yeah, I probably do. Why is that?

Helena: My immediate guess would be stress.

Nik: Stress. (he shakes his head, smirking slightly) What do I have to be stressed about?

Helena: Nikolas. I haven't the time or the energy for these word games. You aren't feeling well -- that much is apparent. If you would like to reschedule our little tete-a-tete, then I --

Nik: Our what?

Helena: Did you forget about lunch? You said we'd speak at length regarding your suspicions. Your... convictions that I have been untoward.

Nik: (shaking his head slightly) What time is it?

Helena: Shortly after noon. (Nikolas looks at her, barely comprehending that, then looks away.)

Nik: Huh. (Helena observes Nikolas's dazed expression, and seizes the moment to move herself from her place on the floor, sweeping towards him, and settling herself beside him on the bed, her hand on his shoulder. Nikolas doesn't appear to notice.)

Helena: Nikolas, darling. I think you should really get some more rest. Perhaps we should delay our --

Nik: (distantly) No. (He blinks, coming back into the moment, and realizing that she is touching him. He shrugs off her touch brutally and moves away from her, while not actually getting up. The dizziness is back... or it persists. He's not certain) NO. (He closes his eyes, exhaling heavily) I just want this over.

Helena: Whatever do you mean by that?

Nik: (looking over at her) Meaning. I came here to talk to you. That's it. To ... (he stops, looking at her, his line of thought abandoning him.) To... End this.

Helena: End what? Our association? I've barely had contact with you since your preadolescence, Nikolas. And I know that you've been told terrible things --

Nik: (tired) Grandmother. Stop it. Just stop it. (He takes a labored breath. All the things that he is here to do, all the things he's meant to say, are swimming in his brain, mixing themselves up, and tangling in with other things. He tries desperately to find a thread, something to say... a way to start).

Helena: This is about Miss Hargreaves, is it not? (Nikolas looks over at her, sharply, at the mention of the name. His heart is thundering in his chest again.)

Nik: Don't...

Helena: You know that I sent her to you. (Nikolas stares at her, his throat closing up. Jesus, what is she doing...)

Nik: (stumbling over the words) Sent her to me...

Helena: Yes. To watch over you. To... ensure that you were safe. Well cared for. (Nikolas blinks)

Nik: You... (he shakes his head) What?

Helena: don't mistake me, my dear... I never for a moment anticipated a... well, the relationship I assume you came to have... That was not my intention for a moment.

Nik: Really.

Helena: NO! No, I simply... I wanted someone who could be counted on to keep my abreast of your progress. To... simply let me know, without any prejudice, how you were.

Nik: So... You're saying you sent a spy... but you didn't mean to send a whore.

Helena: (putting her hand to her chest, aghast) Nikolas!

Nik: Just... making sure I'm following the logic, grandmother... you want me to believe that you sent this woman into my life to make sure I was ... what? Eating my vegetables? What are you talking about? Helena: Nikolas. I am trying my best to be honest with you.

Nik: Try harder.

Helena: I... I have always kept someone -- SOMEONE -- to tell me how you are.

Nik: In other words, you have always had someone spying on me?

Helena: That's a nasty way of putting it.

Nik: What other word would you have me use?

Helena: You are a PRINCE, Nikolas. You must be accustomed to being watched.

Nik: apparently not enough. (he stands up, driven by his anger, and crosses the room) You are really too much. This is unreal... I should have known you'd find a way to play this.

Helena: I beg your pardon?

Nik: (turning back) Play. This. Americanism. It happens. (Helena looks disturbed. She brings her hand up to touch the pendant on her Cassadine medallion, tracing the crest from memory)

Helena: Yes, I've... I've been... I...

Nik: (vicious) Spit it out.

Helena: (taken aback) Yes, this IS a charming vocabulary you've developed.

Nik: I just want this done. Do you understand that? This god damned tug of WAR between you and my uncle that's gone on my entire LIFE. I want it done!

Helena: And I want a moment of time to explain my position.

Nik: Then go for it! Really -- try to explain this to me. Explain how you happened to send a spy to look after me -- how she HAPPENED to be Emily Quartermaine's aunt. Explain how she ended up working for Luke Spencer. Explain how she ended up dying in General Hospital of a gun shot wound to the stomach. Explain to me how you can possibly stand here and look me in the eye, and not admit that you KILLED HER!

Helena: (paling) Is that really what you think of me? (Nikolas, feeling his head throb, stares at her. He hadn't meant to say that... he hadn't meant to, but he can't keep track of the stuff that is going through his mind vs. what is coming out of his mouth. He turns away, finally)

Nik: I'm done pretending. To hell with all of it... I'm finished.

Helena: Nikolas, there is so much you don't know!

Nik: Yeah? (he looks back at her) Story of my life.

Helena: I never intended for this to go as far as it did, Nikolas. NEVER!

Nik: You intended for it to go as far as it had to. And that was it, wasn't it? You decided Hannah had overstepped some imaginary boundary, and you had her killed. You had her killed with my brother's gun.

Helena: Dear god, Nikolas.

Nik: Don't lie to me.

Helena: You really think that of... You really think that is the sort of thing I'm capable of? Having a girl -- I admit -- I didn't approve of for you -- not once all there was to know --

Nik: You KNEW everything when you sent her to me! You knew it all!

Helena: You don't know the whole story.

Nik: Yes, I do.

Helena: No. No, you don't, Nikolas -- there is so much here that you don't understand.

Nik: There is so much here that you wish I DIDN'T understand. But I know what you are. I do. You're a liar, you're a manipulative witch, and you're a murderess!

Helena: Nothing I could say would shock you... is that what you're saying? Your mind is so made up about me?

Nik: I'm saying I know what you are. (Helena looks at him, and Nikolas is secretly unnerved by the steel resolve he sees in her eyes. He is handling this all wrong. He knows that. But he can't stop, he's not in control anymore. He feels like there is nothing he can do to stop the torrent of emotion pouring out of him. It's like the real him -- the sane and rational part of him -- has taken a step back and opted to watch the show from a distance. His grandmother rises smoothly before him, and in his agitated and discombobulated state, it appears that she's coming up through the floor -- a Phoenix rising from ashes. She draws herself up to her full height, in front of him, not at all intimidated that she is at least a head shorter than he is)

Helena: Are you so certain of that? (Nikolas fights an urge to step back, momentarily not certain of anything. He forces himself to bring back the image of Hannah, and clenches his hands, determined)

Nik: I've never been more certain of anything in my life. (Helena flinches, in obvious pain at his words -- a bit too obvious, in fact).

Helena: I see. (she gives a 'brave' smile, nodding her head slightly) What a proud and strong man you've become, Nikolas Stavrosovich. (she looks up at him, meeting his wild eyes with a strong and steady gaze.) Or... Nikolas Stefanovich, I should say. (Nikolas feels the ground drop right out from beneath him. He stares at her, not comprehending for a long moment)

Nik: (breathing) Stefanovich...

Helena: I know, Nikolas. You see? You say I am a liar, but the truth is... the truth is I know all the dirty secrets. I always have. I know who you are... perhaps more than you know yourself. Nikolas Cassadine. Son of Stefan.

Nik: You... can't --

Helena: Now tell me... what are you certain of now?