Devolution TOC

Chapter 108

"Good morning."

Bobbie lifted her head and smiled at Lucky as she wiped peanut butter from her fingers . "Good morning dear nephew," Bobbie responded brightly. "You're up early and looking mighty handsome."

Lucky blushed with pleasure at is aunt's compliment, relieved that Tony had pulled him aside earlier to talk to him about pressing his clothes and combing his hair more frequently. He'd spent much more time that morning checking himself in the mirror and selecting a nice outfit to wear. Tony had an early surgery that morning and was already at work.

"Thanks, Aunt Bobbie. I've been up for over an hour. Harley's been walked, and I'm ready, so I thought I'd hang out with you and the gang." Lucky's eyes swept over Lucas and Lulu, who looked up and smiled at him. "I like your braids," Lucky said happily as he bent down to whisper into Lulu's ear and kiss her on the cheek. He passed by Lucas and gave him the obligatory mild punch on the arm. "Tough guy," he teased his cousin.

Bobbie finished off the last of her toast and sipped her tea. "Can I get you anything?" she offered Lucky as she stood up and walked her plate to the dishwasher.

"I already ate, but maybe I'll make some coffee and scrounge around to see if I can find a donut or a Pop Tart," Lucky said.

Bobbie walked over to Lucky and kissed him on the top of the head. "Tony corrupted you, didn't he? He's a junk food fanatic. I was never able to cure him, so I gave up."

"So much we have in common, Tony and I," Lucky jested in return. He turned his attention to the two younger children as his aunt left the room to finish getting ready for her workday. "How do you two like your camp?"

"Lulu and I don't see each other too much," Lucas explained as he drank deeply from a tall glass of milk. He wiped his milk mustache off with the back of his hand, and Lucky made a face while handing his cousin a paper napkin.

"We're different ages," Lulu stated logically. "I like camp. Crafts are my favorite part. I can make necklaces out of beads. Oh! I forgot. The nature trails are SO much fun." Lulu's blue eyes twinkled merrily as she bounced in her seat. "I can identify several leaves from the trees now - maple, oak and poplar. Isn't that neat?"

Lucky nodded wisely. "Very impressive, Lulu-belle. You'll have to teach me when we take walks in the park."

"Yes, I will," Lulu answered. She was a confident little girl, secure in her position in the world. She finished her Cheerios while her brother warmed up a cup of water in the microwave and searched through the pantry for a jar of instant coffee.

"You didn't say what your favorite activity was at the camp, Lucas," Lucky called out over his shoulder.

"Swimming!" Lucas answered soggily with a mouth full of cereal and milk. Lulu shot him an annoyed look and said in a bossy tone, "Lucas, you're not supposed to talk with your mouth full." Lucas gave her a dirty look as he kicked her under the table. "Ow," Lulu complained under her breath. "You're a brat."

Lucas continued talking excitedly. "I like to do laps with the paddle board. I haven't learned to swim by myself yet, but I will soon."

"It's great that you're learning to swim," Lucky replied. "It's fun, and you'll be safe near water." He was trying very hard to hold conversations with the younger children since Kevin had told him it was important to his recovery and integration into the new family. He finally found a jar of coffee and a months old Pop Tart that hand been overlooked in the back of one of the shelves. He retrieved his mug from the microwave and spooned in a generous amount of coffee, swirling it briskly to dissolve the hard, freeze-dried crystals. After opening the toaster oven, Lucky removed the pastry from its white paper wrapper and inserted it into the oven, twirling the knob to the pastry setting. He thought about asking Lulu if she were learning to swim as well, and he turned around saying, "Hey Lulu. Are you..."

Lucky's words died in his mouth as a feeling of fear descended upon him with its penetrating, icy veil. He frowned, trying to comprehend what was happening to him. "I...uh..." he tried to continue. His right leg started twitching and when his right arm followed suit, his eyes rolled up into his head, and the full weight of his body solidly hit the floor with a loud bang.

Lucas' eyebrows rose in alarm as he watched Lucky fall and then turn rigid with his muscles tightening over his whole body. Lulu turned in her chair at the loud sound, and her eyes grew wide. "Lucky!" she shouted fearfully. She and Lucas leaped from their chairs and ran over to Lucky, standing over him and watching as he started to convulse with the violence of a generalized seizure.

"Go get Mom!" Lucas said abruptly. He remembered the first aid that his dad had taught him in case an epilepsy problem ever happened while he was alone with Lucky. Lulu ran swiftly from the room, her sandals making loud, frantic bangs on the wooden floors as she raced to the master bedroom to find Bobbie.

Lucas kept his distance and watched Lucky, as he briefly looked at the microwave and noted the time. Dad told me to time how long he does this, he told himself. Don't touch him, give him room and then turn him on his side when he's finished if he's not already lying that way. If he does it for more than five minutes, call 911. Lucas's face betrayed his worry as he continued to watch Lucky jerk on the floor. Poor Lucky. I bet it hurt when he fell on the floor. Lucas looked up when he heard the heavier footsteps of his mom running through the foyer. Bobbie was in her hospital scrubs, prepared for the morning surgery that she would be supervising. Her long, auburn curls were pulled back protectively into a loose ponytail.

"He's been doing this for two minutes," Lucas announced. "First his right arm and leg started twitching, and then he fell. His muscles tensed up, and then he started doing this." Lucas pointed toward his cousin.

"Good boy," Bobbie answered with praise. She pulled Lulu close to her hip as the little girl shook and cried. "Aunt Bobbie," she wailed with tears streaming down her plump cheeks. "Help him!"

Bobbie spoke to Lulu in a calm, soothing voice as she rubbed the little girl's back. "Lulu, I'm going to stay with Lucky. You go to your room and finish getting ready for camp. I'll watch Lucky to make sure he's all right," she said firmly. "You, too, Lucas. Go brush your teeth and comb your hair." Bobbie smiled broadly at her son. "And thank you for watching over your cousin so well. You gave me very helpful information."

Lucas nodded proudly. "I'm going to be a doctor like dad," he said firmly. "I have to be calm during emergencies. Come on, Lulu, let's go," he said as he wrapped his arm around his younger cousin.

"Okay," she said tearfully, pausing to catch her breath. "Take care of him, Aunt Bobbie." Her eyes grew wide as she looked down at Lucky sprawled on the floor.

Bobbie's eyes softened. "I will, honey."

Bobbie glanced at the clock again. She lifted her nose in the air. Yuck. What's that smell? She saw that the toaster oven was on and pulled out a burnt Pop Tart, throwing the pastry into the sink and stuffing it down the garbage disposal. Four minutes, she noted. Come on, Lucky, you need to snap out of this. She blinked back a few tears as she watched her nephew. While he'd looked so put together only minutes earlier, now his hair was in total disarray, spilling haphazardly into his face. He's been seizure free for nearly six weeks, and now this happens. He's going to be upset when he wakes up. I wonder why this is happening now. Is it his medications? She sighed and looked tensely at the time again. Five minutes. Dammit, Lucky, come on. I don't want to have to call an ambulance for you.

Finally, Lucky's body stopped convulsing erratically on the floor, and he lay there very still and silent. His eyes were closed, and it looked like he was sleeping in the middle of the kitchen floor. Bobbie knelt beside him, full of relief. "Lucky," she said in a singsong tone of voice. "Lucky, wake up." Bobbie lightly patted him on the cheek, but his eyes remained closed. She stroked his hair, pushing it away from his face. At least he's not bleeding. He didn't bite his tongue or cheek, Bobbie thought. And he didn't lose control of his bladder. That's good. The last thing he needs is more embarrassment.

"Uuuhhh," Lucky said softly as he moved his arms slightly, his hands grasping and then opening again.

"Lucky Spencer," Bobbie said a little louder.

Lucky's eyes opened as slits, but he didn't move. He felt the cold, hard floor; however, he couldn't figure out what was going on. He mumbled something that he intended as the words Aunt Bobbie as his aunt lined up in his vision, her tumbling auburn curls capturing his attention.

Bobbie laid a hand on his back. "You had a seizure, Lucky. Can you sit up? I want to walk you to the living room so you can lie down on the sofa." Lucky made a breathy sound and groaned. Bobbie gently pulled her nephew to a sitting position, holding his shoulders firmly so he didn't sag back down onto the floor, and he looked at her with confusion, his blue eyes cloudy and dazed. "What?" he asked thickly, his tongue slurring his speech as he tried to regain his ability to think. His eyes closed again, and he laid a hand on the side of his face, feeling woozy and unsure of himself.

"Let's go to the living room," Bobbie announced. She stood and then bent over to pull him up by looping her hands underneath his armpits. With assistance, Lucky stood up shakily, tilting precariously to one side. Bobbie allowed her nephew to lean on her heavily as Lucky dragged his feet, and they slowly walked out of the kitchen.

~*~*~*~

Half hour later...

"Lucky." Bobbie sat on the edge of the sofa, where she'd deposited her nephew. Lucky was in a deep sleep, part of the aftermath of his recent seizure. He didn't move a muscle, seemingly oblivious to her presence. She shook his shoulder hard, and he twitched and then rolled over onto his back with his arm draped over his face. "Hmmm," he replied groggily.

"Lucky, we need to go to the day center now. The kids are loaded into the car and ready to go."

"Tired," he choked out in a breathy voice.

"Lucky, I know you need to rest, but I called the day...center, and they have several beds there. I explained that you'd had a seizure, and they've reserved a bed for you. Your activities schedule is cleared for this morning." Bobbie had caught herself in time to prevent saying daycare center, which the mental health facility was in certain aspects. Its services provided families a place for their relatives to receive care while they were at work. Bobbie took Lucky's arm and gently tugged him to a sitting position. He looked totally disoriented and unsure. "Let's take your pillow," she instructed, handing him the pillow that she'd earlier brought out from the master bedroom to make her nephew more comfortable on the sofa. Lucky grabbed it in his hands and pulled it close to his body as he frowned.

"I feel funny," he complained.

"I know," Bobbie said as she ran her hand over his hair. "You can take your pillow and sleep in the car on the way over."

~*~*~*~

Lucky leaned heavily against the reception counter at the day center with his head hung down and bangs in his eyes while Bobbie explained her nephew's condition to the on-duty nurse.

"Lucky's uncle is his neurologist. He's in surgery at the moment but should be free before lunch. I left him a voicemail telling him what happened, so he should be down here within a few hours. I checked Lucky's vitals before we left home and looked him over. He seems okay, but the seizure was bad, and he's still in a postictal state. He needs to rest."

Lucky's elbows slipped from the counter when he started falling asleep on his feet. He made a soft grunt as his hands slapped down on the smooth surface to prevent a fall. The nurse brought out a wheelchair. "Hop aboard," she said brightly. "We'll find you a bed so you can rest." Bobbie helped Lucky into the wheelchair and knelt in front of him, searching his face while she held his hands, feeling her heart sink when she saw the dark look of physical and emotional pain in his eyes.

"Your uncle will be down to see you soon," she said quietly with her hand on Lucky's arm. "I'm due in surgery in fifteen minutes. If there's an emergency, you can have one of us paged, okay? But I think you're fine."

Lucky bit down hard on his lower lip as the tears rose in his eyes. "I'm not going to get better," he said plaintively. "It'll be this way forever. I'll never drive again. I went almost two months without a seizure and now I have to wait six more months to be seizure free."

"Oh, honey, I know." Bobbie said sympathetically as she hugged him. "But it's too soon to tell. There's a lot more they can do to help you. Talk to your Uncle Tony. Tell him your concerns. I think he can reassure you." Bobbie stood up and leaned in to kiss Lucky's forehead. "Get some sleep," she ordered before turning to walk toward the main part of the hospital.

Lucky laid his head in the palm of his hand as the nurse wheeled him down the hallway. "Do you need some Tylenol for that headache?" she asked.

"Oh, God, yes," Lucky moaned. "My head's going to explode and all these little green men are going to pop out to conquer the earth."

"You're funny," the nurse chuckled.

"A laugh a minute," Lucky replied as he rolled his eyes.

~*~*~*~

Tony stood beside his desk, just out of surgery, still in his hospital scrubs. He listened to Bobbie's voicemail. His forehead creased into a worried frown. "Dammit," he said aloud as he placed the receiver back on the phone. He grabbed his medical bag and headed out the door.

~*~*~*~

When Tony entered the darkened room, Lucky was lying in bed on his stomach, his head turned to the side on the pillow, and his arms and legs flung away from his body. He was very still, in the midst of a very deep sleep, and only his back rose rhythmically with his heavy breathing.

Tony laid a hand on Lucky's arm. "Hey, nephew," he said jovially. When Lucky didn't respond to his voice, Tony shook his arm lightly. "Wake up for a minute, Lucky."

Lucky opened his eyes and then promptly closed them again as he fell back to sleep.

Tony glanced at his watch. It had been four hours since Lucky's seizure, and he still hadn't recovered from it. "Lucky," he said louder as he patted him on the side of the face, hoping to annoy his nephew enough to gain his attention.

Lucky's eyes opened halfway. "Yeah," he said softly.

"Lucky, we need to talk for a minute, and I'd like to do some neurological tests," Tony replied.

Lucky sat up slowly and let out a long sigh. "I got run over by a train," he tried to joke. His eyes closed again, and he jerked momentarily as his head tilted downward and he started drifting back to sleep.

"Lucky, what's the last thing you remember before your seizure?"

Lucky wrapped his arms around his torso and shivered. "Fear. It was dripping all over me."

Tony nodded. "Okay. Bobbie said that Lucas noticed your right arm and leg trembled before you lost consciousness. It sounds like you had another secondary generalized seizure, one that started in the damaged area where you have the lesion, but then progressed throughout the rest of the brain. It's been quite awhile since you've had a seizure. I'm thinking that this was probably caused by your medications."

"Great, just great," Lucky muttered as he shook his head. "One more reason I hate those drugs."

"I have a meeting with Kevin this afternoon, and he may adjust your dosages to prevent this from reoccurring," Tony explained. He patted his nephew on the knee. "It's not hopeless, kid. Don't look so hangdog. We have other drugs to try, too, if this doesn't work. Don't give up."

"That's what Aunt Bobbie said," Lucky agreed. "But I'm still back to square one when it comes to driving a car."

Tony looked at Lucky with sympathy. "I know it's been hard on you not being able to drive. But we'll work around that until we can bring this under control. We'll find a way."

"Yeah," Lucky breathed out, not entirely convinced.

~*~*~*~

That afternoon...

Tony and Bobbie joined Kevin in his office, and took their seats.

Kevin adjusted the stack of patient files and straightened a few wayward items scattered across his desk. "It's been five days since Lucky's returned home. How are things? Why don't you start off with the high points, and then we can talk about any problems you might be experiencing."

"Lulu has been very happy to see her brother," Tony started.

"Oh, yes!" Bobbie added. "She's ecstatic. She can't stop talking about him." Bobbie paused. "Lucky's has been very good about doing his chores. He's washed dishes and mopped the floors without complaining."

Tony held his hands out and looked at them briefly. "He's played ball with my son quite a bit. That's a big help to me since I need to be careful of my surgeon's hands."

"Personally, I'm happy to have more of my family together under one roof," Bobbie explained. "It's a relief for Lucky to be out of the hospital. He does seem to be eating better than he did when he was living in the institution. I'm still worried that he picks at his food sometimes."

"He does have a good appetite, though," Tony added. "He tends to eat less only if he's upset."

"How is he integrating into your everyday lives?" Kevin questioned.

Bobbie looked at Tony and shrugged. "He's very moody. Tony's had to pull him aside several times to talk to him about his behavior. He screamed and swore at the kids one morning."

"What was that about?" Kevin asked.

"He was still upset after a bad fight with his girlfriend the night before. He was accustomed to swearing in his parents' home and didn't remember that we don't do that in ours," Tony explained. "We worked it out. I think the highlight of Lucky's return has been adopting a dog." Tony smiled broadly. "Both the dog and Lucky seem to be bonding, and the kids love him, too."

Kevin held out his hands toward the couple and raised his eyebrows. "Problems?"

~*~*~*~

Lucky sat in a chair within a close circle of people, feeling uncomfortable with a pounding headache and a bad attitude about attending his first group session at the day facility. He sprawled in his chair to convey his stance as disinterested, unapproachable male with legs spread wide and arms draped behind his chair. He nervously jiggled his left foot as he sneaked glances at his neighbors from the sides of his eyes. There were five other people in the group - two women and three men. The therapist moderating the session was female, and Lucky successfully ignored most of her instructions on rules of discourse.

Everyone introduced themselves, telling their names, and when it was Lucky's turn, he smirked and said, "Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior." He wore his tough guy mask, daring anyone to refute his innate superiority. A young black man two chairs to the left of Lucky said loudly, "Aren't you the guy who murdered that man? Shot him in the head. It was on the news all the time."

Lucky turned beet red and yelled, "Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about."

"Do, too," the man refuted hotly. "I saw it on TV. You killed him in your house. He was a rich guy."

Lucky sprang to his feet and knocked his chair onto its back. "I said it wasn't me." His fists clenched, and he wanted to pop the guy on the mouth, but restrained himself from stepping toward him. "You're an idiot."

"Who are you calling an idiot?" the other man snarled.

The therapist sighed. This is going to be an interesting group. "Lucas, sit down. I just reviewed the rules. No shouting, leaving your seat or calling names. George, don't blurt out questions that don't deal with the issues that we've agreed to discuss. And we take turns speaking. Remember?"

Lucky sputtered angrily and righted his chair with a bang, halfway considering taking off and blowing the joint for good. He plopped noisily into his seat and sighed loudly as he rubbed his eyes. "My name is Lucky, not Lucas," he said petulantly. "Don't call me Lucas." He slid further down into his chair and rammed his hands deep into his jeans pockets. God, my head hurts.

~*~*~*~

"Tony says I'm too much of a perfectionist." Bobbie laughed uneasily and shot a look at Tony as she folded her hands in her lap. "I know now that my expectations were too high for Lucky's return. For some reason, I thought that everything would be fine, and Lucky's behavior would automatically click into place, that he'd be the same nephew we remembered from before. It hasn't happened that way, although I don't blame Lucky. He's sincerely tried his best. I can see how hard it is for him to interact with us socially, and he's making an effort to talk, to establish a bond with the younger children." Bobbie's eyes filled with tears that wouldn't blink away. "It's so hard. My brother is gone, my aunt's passed away, and I'm not sure if we'll ever have Lucky back. It makes me sad. And what about his sister? She needs her big brother." Bobbie reached for the tissue that Kevin extended to her and blotted at her eyes. "I feel so guilty in a way. What if I'd been more responsive to him when he was living on his own and drinking? I pushed him away. Maybe he wouldn't be in the place he's at today if I'd been more helpful."

Kevin looked at Bobbie sympathetically. "I know it must hurt you that Lucky is different now. Does it help you to know that I sincerely believe there's nothing you could have done to prevent his breakdown and illness? The events that set his illness in motion had already taken place." His brown eyes met Bobbie's. "You felt the need to protect yourself and your son from Lucky's alcoholism. I can't say that it was wrong for you to do. You made the best decision for you at that time."

Bobbie smiled wryly. "Now I have to worry about Lucky's smoking and its effect on the children. I have a rule that he's not to smoke on the property - inside or out - but he's still smoking heavily. He takes a lot of walks." Bobbie laughed bitterly. "Of course, his older brother smokes, too, so that's no help. They take walks together."

Kevin rubbed the back of his neck and looked in Bobbie's direction. "I've told Lucky that I'd prefer he didn't smoke because of the possible triggering effects. He has a tendency to switch quickly to harder substances when he's especially stressed or fighting a relapse of his mental illness. I'm sorry to hear that he hasn't quit."

"I'm not so worried about the smoking," Tony said. "I think he'll eventually quit. He's told me that he wants to stop. His medications and their side effects concern me. He's experienced orthostatic hypotension, nocturnal confusion, and as of this morning a serious, generalized seizure. He hadn't had a seizure in over six weeks."

Kevin grew concerned, and he folded his hands on top of his desk. "I'm sorry to hear that. Is he all right?"

Tony nodded. "I checked him out about an hour ago. He's recovering, but slowly. The generalized seizure oncerns me because of his propensity for them recently. I suspect that his medications, particularly the neuroleptic, are responsible for this latest incident. Would it be appropriate to adjust his dosages?"

Kevin looked down at his desk for a moment while he thought, and then opened Lucky's folder and made a few notations. "Here's what we're facing," he said. "Lucky's current dosage of the antipsychotic is on the high end for him. This is typical for outpatients first leaving the hospital. The idea is to prevent future psychotic episodes, and after several weeks, we'd begin lowering the dosage gradually to determine the optimum levels to prevent symptoms. It's a mistake to lower his dosage at this point in time because of the probability of psychosis returning. If he experiences several seizures, undesirable as that may be, he will still be able to pursue his education and occupational goals. If he's psychotic, he'll be back in the hospital and unable to participate in those activities or live with his family. So, it's a tradeoff."

Tony scratched his head. "I see your point," he conceded. "Doesn't mean that I like it, but I understand. Lucky's already missed out on a year when he should have been in school. I don't want his progress to be stripped away. I can add another medication to Lucky's regime that will prevent his partial seizures from generalizing. Ultimately, I'd suggest that he investigate surgery as a permanent solution to his epilepsy. He could have the surgery next year during his summer break."

Kevin nodded. "That's reasonable."

"But there's one other problem," Tony said as his face tensed and his eyes darkened. "Faison is back."

~*~*~*~

"We've been discussing medications and compliance issues. Lucky, it's your turn. Do you have any problem with taking your medications?" The therapist directed her gaze in Lucky's direction.

Oh, great, now I have to talk, Lucky thought. Go ahead, interrupt my beauty sleep. He sat up in his chair and affixed a fake grin on his tense face as his picked at his nails. "It's not an issue," he said bluntly without further explanation. He looked down at the floor, seeking to avoid the numerous faces looking in his direction. He shifted uneasily in his seat, and his face grew red, as he became aware that he was the focus of attention.

"Why is that?" the therapist prompted.

"My uncle gives me all of my medications," Lucky declared. "He says I don't have a choice if I want to live at home. He's going to dispense my medications to me. That's it."

"How do you feel about that?" the therapist questioned. "Do you want to be responsible for taking them yourself?"

Lucky shrugged and ran his left hand through his hair. "Not really. I can see his point," Lucky conceded. "I'm not reliable."

"What have been some of your problems in the past?"

Geeeez, Lucky complained to himself. Who cares? "I like to OD," Lucky answered with an odd smile that crossed his face and complemented the cold look in his eyes. "But I really prefer heroin." He laughed and shook his head. "I like to kill myself," he added happily. Lucky ran his hand over his face, aware that he was feeling distinctly unwell. "No, take that back. I like booze. Lots and lots of booze. Only it's harder to get than the drugs. Any suggestions?" Lucky raised his head and froze when he saw the shocked reactions of the group to his comments. The therapist was frowning, and he suddenly felt like he couldn't catch his breath. His attempts at humor had backfired. Oh no! My head, man it hurts. Lucky jumped from his seat and stood there for a few seconds before he darted to the left and galloped to the men's room.

~*~*~*~

"I've been working with my brother and the WSB to hunt down the madman that kidnapped and tortured Lucky," Tony stated. They've recently tracked him down to Canada and believe that he's on his way to Port Charles. My brother felt that this Faison wants to tie up loose ends so to speak and kill Lucky to eliminate the primary witness to his crime."

"I'm shocked," Kevin said, frowning. "Why haven't they arrested this man if they know where he is?"

"Here's where it gets interesting," Tony replied. He paused and took Bobbie's hand into his own for mutual reassurance and strength. "They need to catch Faison in the act of committing a crime. Since they have no idea where his compound is, they have no direct evidence to tie him to his crimes against Lucky. All they have is Lucky's accusations. But if Faison makes a move against the kid, then they can pin a crime on him and put him away."

"Sounds risky," Kevin protested. "Not to mention a huge risk to all of the gains that Lucky has made towards his mental health. We've spent months on trauma therapy thanks to this Faison. I don't like the sound of this."

Tony nodded. "We don't either, Kevin. But my brother assures me that it's not over until Faison is caught. Lucky will be in continual danger until that happens. They profiled the madman and he is very thorough. He won't stop until he gets what he wants."

"Who is going to tell Lucky that he's in danger?" Kevin asked.

"My brother is coming to our wedding. He'll be in town on Friday to set up the arrangements for monitoring Lucky. He has years of experience dealing with many types of people, so I trust him to discuss this gently with Lucky. I'm hoping he can reassure him about his safety during this time. Bobbie and I will be there with Frisco when he tells Lucky."

"Let me know if you need my assistance, or rather, if Lucky needs my assistance during this process," Kevin offered. He shook his head. "I still don't like this. I wish there were some other way to resolve the situation."

~*~*~*~

Lucky sat on the hard floor of the restroom stall in the men's room with his back to the wall and held his mercilessly pounding head in his hands, as the hysteria rose within him. They're going to kick me out of here. I'm gonna have to go back to the hospital. They're gonna lock me up and throw away the key. I can't talk in front of all those people. I feel weird, and I can't regulate what I say. Lucky's thoughts raced and tumbled out of control to match the insistent rhythm of the anxiety that loomed over him.

Lucky forlornly banged his head hard against the wall, but stopped when he heard the men's room door open. Footsteps sounded through the bathroom and stopped in front of the stall where Lucky was stationed. "Lucky Spencer?" a deep voice questioned.

Lucky froze, unsure of what to do. Who was standing outside of the stall?

"Lucky?" the voice asked again. "Why don't you come out of there and talk to me a minute?"

"What do you want?" Lucky asked suspiciously as he drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them protectively.

"Shannon sent me in to see if you were okay. You left the group session in a hurry, and she was worried about you. My name's Jack. I'm one of Shannon's colleagues."

Lucky reached up and abruptly flicked the switch that locked the stall door, but didn't move from the floor. When Jack opened the door, Lucky's head was buried in his knees, and his arms covered his face. "Are you feeling unwell?" Jack asked carefully as he squatted down in front of Lucky.

Lucky raised his head and hid his face in his hand. "Yeah. I had a seizure this morning, and I don't feel right. My head's killing me, and I can't concentrate." He frowned and nervously ran his hands through his hair.

"Shannon said that you were upset in her group session. What was that about?"

"I can't talk in front of all those people. They made me nervous, and the words just fell out of my mouth. I had verbal diarrhea."

Jack laughed and extended his hand to Lucky as he stood up. "Join the club. We've all been there at one time or another."

Lucky accepted his hand and stood up, brushing off his jeans. Jack noticed that Lucky looked pale and that his hooded eyes betrayed his painful headache. "Let's find you a place to crash," he suggested as he clapped Lucky on the back and walked with him out of the restroom.

~*~*~*~

"I've had the worst day," Lucky complained as he stood by the car door waiting for Tony to open it.

"Ah, yes," Tony exclaimed. "But tomorrow is always a new day. Fresh, bright and new."

Lucky screwed up his face into a sour expression as he entered the car and slid into the passenger seat. "How do you do that?" he asked heavily.

"What?"

Lucky waved his hand around. "You're always so cheery and optimistic. World War Three could be starting and there you'd be, smiling and happy amidst the ashes and rubble." His eyes sought his uncle's face as if he anticipated learning a hidden secret of the universe from the simple man sitting beside him in the car.

Tony chuckled. "I don't know if I'd go that far, but I've learned that optimism beats pessimism any day. Carpe Diem - Seize the Day."

"Bad choice of words, Tony," Lucky said wryly. He winked at Tony when his uncle turned toward him with a puzzled look on his face.

"Seize - oh. I get it. Spencer Junior, you have a delightful sense of humor. Why don't you use that to get over the hump when you're having a bad day?"

"I don't know, Tony. It's all building up on me, and I feel like I can't get out from under it." Lucky sighed and looked out of the window, admiring the architecture of the turn of the century office buildings in the original Port Charles downtown area that they passed through on their way home from GH. "What difference does a joke make if I'm locked up in a mental ward? I don't have even one friend, you know. Emily was my only friend and now she's out of my life."

Tony's antennae went up when he detected the dejection and hopelessness in his nephew's statements. "What's building up on you?"

"All of these brain diseases," Lucky replied with a sad tone of voice. "The epilepsy and...well, the other stuff." Lucky still couldn't bring himself to describe his mental illnesses by their correct terms, almost as if he avoided naming them to deny their power over him. "I can't get it back."

"Get what back?"

"My Spencerness, my soul," Lucky replied flatly. "I should have died when Faison had me because I never came back. That person who was kidnapped died two years ago. I'm the shell that remains."

"Lucky, I'm worried when you sound this depressed." Tony glanced at his sad nephew, hoping to find a way to bring him out of his current mood.

"I'm not depressed, just realistic. Things aren't the same. I don't like it. End of story." Lucky leaned his face against the window and closed his eyes.

"What's this about not having one friend? I can't agree with that."

"Name one," Lucky said morosely. "I have no idea where any of my high school buddies are. They're scattered to the winds. I could never hook up with them again after I came back from the compound. I was too busy being psychotic while they were dating, going to parties, applying to college or in the military. I shot up and drank myself into a black hole. Liz dumped me, and now Emily has, too. I can't get it back."

"You're my friend," Tony asserted.

Lucky harrumphed. "Family doesn't count."

"It sure does," Tony refuted as he slapped his hand on the steering wheel. "How many families do you know where they can't stand one another? I'm closer to you than my own brother. Don't try to get out of it, Spencer. You're my friend."

Lucky regarded Tony curiously for several seconds and then nodded. "Okay. You're my friend."

"And what about Nikolas?" Tony added. "You two are as thick as thieves. You've both worked hard to overcome your problems and develop a relationship. I'd say that's a major accomplishment."

"Yeah, Nikolas," Lucky conceded, plucking his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger as he thought. "That's two friends, I guess."

"It's not over with Emily, trust me," Tony stated. "I've been around the block a few times. That girl is crazy about you. She just needs some time to work out her feminine pride. She'll be back."

Lucky brightened. "You think so?" He rubbed the plush texture of his car seat with a circular motion of his long fingers and longingly looked to his uncle with hope in his eyes.

Tony nodded with certainty. "Yep."

~*~*~*~

Lucky sighed as he sat down on his bed. Finally, he had a moment to himself. No socializing, just chilling. He turned on his computer and leafed through the day's big news headlines. "Some people have it worse off than me," he muttered to himself. He opened his word processor and began typing a letter.

Dear Dad,

Ohmigosh, I had the worst day! First, I had a seizure this morning, which completely knocked me out. Then, I shot my mouth off at my first group session at the day facility. I'm hopeless.

Tony says that Emily will probably forgive me in time, but I haven't heard from her. I know she must have received my note by now. I asked her to meet me for coffee so I could explain things. I plan to tell her everything, like you suggested. But, if she won't even talk to me, what can I do? I'm dying here. I miss her so much.

I miss you, too, Dad. I wish you were here at night when I come home. We used to have great talks, remember? And, you'd show me how to do things - fix and build stuff. I miss Luke's and even Claude. Haha. I bet he'd be surprised I said that. I wonder where he is now.

I'm looking forward to seeing you in a week or so. You said the check-in procedures aren't as elaborate and that we could sit by one another, not across from glass. I hope so because I'm not doing so well right now. I'm kind of nervous. I'd better not freak out this time. I feel like I'm messing up, and they're going to send me back to the hospital. Kevin and Tony said that's not true, but I'm still worried.

I was supposed to take Lulu to the park tonight, but Aunt Bobbie said I should stay home and rest. We can go tomorrow. It's great living with her again. I'm trying to find some special things that we can do together. She seems very happy, and she's so smart. I can almost talk to her like she's a grown-up. I'm having fun with Lucas, too. We play sports and stuff. Oh! My puppy Harley is doing well. I have him trained to sit and stay - it's only taken a couple of days.

I'm so lonely. There are people around me, but I don't feel like we connect. I feel like it's just me, that no one understands. I think you'd understand. You tried to help me when I first came home, but I didn't cooperate much, did I? Tony says he's my friend and Nikolas is, too. But maybe they feel obligated?

Sorry for rambling. I haven't asked how you are. What's the new place like and what type of job are you working at? How are you feeling?

I'll talk to you later.

Your son,

Lucky

After completing the letter to his father, Lucky closed the laptop. He sat on his bed and looked around his room. Nice. Aunt Bobbie did a wonderful decorating job. She's great person. I'm lucky that she's my aunt. I need to think of a special gift to give her to show my appreciation. I know! She loves plants. I can go to that greenhouse on the university campus and buy her a special plant. I'd better talk to Nikolas. He said he'd take me shopping to buy Aunt Bobbie and Uncle Tony a wedding present. I still can't think of what to buy them, though. A broad smile creased Lucky's face. Gift certificates to the Sleight of Hand. That was a romantic restaurant. They'll love it.

Lucky placed his hand on the telephone to call Nikolas to ask him for a ride the next evening. He jerked his hand back in surprise when the phone rang. To date, it had never rung, and no one had his number since it was used primarily for a dial-up connection. Maybe it's a wrong number. Lucky picked up the receiver and held it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Master Spencer," the Danish voice intoned. "How nice to speak to you again. I've certainly missed your excellent company during this past year. Have you missed me? I've so imagined you pining away in Port Charles."

Lucky's hand suddenly felt like rubber on the phone receiver, and his mouth dried up, making any verbalizations impossible. His mind and emotions raced to a million places at once, and fear exploded throughout his body with fierce adrenaline.

"You have nothing to say to me after we shared company for an entire year?" Faison asked with a petulant, hurt tone. "Tell me, Lucky, do you enjoy living with your aunt and uncle in that stuffy old Victorian? I prefer Danish Modern myself - it's much classier."

Lucky held his hand over his stomach. "What...what do you want?" he managed to choke out.

Faison's laughter rang through the phone lines and made Lucky's heart clench. His eyes filled with tears, and he tried to blink them away. "What do you want?" he said more vigorously.

"I want my payment," Faison said snidely. "Your stupid father killed Cassadine before I could collect my fee."

"You have the Ice Princess," Lucky sputtered out.

"Correction. The Cassadines have the Ice Princess. I want my payment. Oh, and there's another matter, Master Spencer. You and I had an agreement. An agreement, which sadly you broke. There is payment associated with that breach as well."

"I don't understand," Lucky pleaded. "Why don't you leave me alone?"

"Why is Frisco Jones bothering me, Lucky?" Faison asked in a quiet, deadly voice. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't tell, and in return I spared your life." Faison laughed with a malevolent tone. "You told, Lucky Spencer, and it's time that I collect." Faison hung up the phone, and Lucky sat on his bed with his hand poised in the air. After a minute, the phone slipped from his grasp and fell onto the soft bed, but his hand was still frozen in a gripping motion mid-air.

Next...

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