Devolution TOC

Chapter 128

Blessed are those who make peace.

They will be called children of God.

Lucky sauntered into the kitchen, plopped down on a chair at the table and stared out the window with a glum look on his face. He crossed his arms and sighed loudly.

"Trouble waking up this morning?" Bobbie asked as she stood at the sink dunking a teabag into her cup.

Lucky looked tired with scraggly hair and dark circles under his eyes. "Sort of. I didn't sleep well last night. I'm nervous about seeing Dad today."

Bobbie joined Lucky at the table. "Luke can't wait to see you. What's making you nervous?"

Lucky shrugged and laid his head in his hand. He traced a whorl of wood grain on the smooth tabletop with his fingertip. "I don't like prisons."

"I'm sorry, honey. I forgot." Bobbie reached out and rubbed Lucky's arm. "I'm just so happy to have you here with us that I don't often think about the past. But I realize it is still an issue for you. I'll be visiting, too. Do you think that will help? The prison is really very modern and has a nice atmosphere. It's not like Pentonville."

Lucky shook his head. "All I can see in my mind is a row of metal bars. Depressing, isn't it?"

"It's a normal reaction," Bobbie said. "Why don't I dish up the breakfast leftovers for you and pop them in the microwave?" She rose from her chair and scooped up a small amount of scrambled eggs and potatoes onto a small plate.

"No," Lucky said a fraction too loudly. He walked quickly over to the pantry and flung open the door so abruptly that it banged loudly onto the wall. He hurriedly reached for two boxes of cereal. "This is what I want." His face was red as he brushed past Bobbie to reach for a bowl and spoon, and he avoided her gaze.

Bobbie felt stunned as she watched him. He still doesn't trust anyone around food. I thought he'd gotten past that.

Lucky poured a huge mound of cereal into his bowl and drowned it with milk. He shoved quick spoonfuls into his mouth and frantically chewed as a cover for how he really felt about eating in front of another person. Ever since he returned home, he'd struggled with his fears concerning food. It was like a distant hum of a troublesome insect in the back of his mind. Intellectually, he knew that the food in the household was safe, but his heart clenched when he had to accept an item from another person. Bobbie had removed all of the soda pop cans from the pantry and hidden them in the garage. He preferred to pour himself glasses of water from the kitchen faucet.

Lucky continued to stuff his mouth faster than he could chew, and he choked, dropping his spoon onto the table.

Bobbie stopped cleaning up the dishes and turned around to see Lucky holding a hand to his chest, coughing. "Are you okay?" she asked sharply. When she moved toward Lucky to assist him, he rose from the table, forcing his chair to fall backwards to the floor.

"It's all right," he sputtered as he rushed from the room, intending to make a run for the bathroom upstairs. He barely made it out into the hallway when he desperately darted into the half bath. He slammed the door and fell to his knees with the force of the nausea that ripped through him.

~*~*~*~

"We're here," Bobbie said. She parked the car and turned off the ignition. Lucky had slept the whole way to the prison, and he reluctantly opened his eyes as he yawned and stretched. "Get your beauty sleep?" Bobbie teased.

Lucky made a face and waved her off. "Yeah, right." He leaned his head against the window and frowned. What if I lose it again? I'd make the record books for most times someone's freaked out in a jail. He looked at his aunt. "I'm ready."

Bobbie maintained physical contact with him as they walked to the reception area of the prison. She casually draped her arm around him and smiled when he directed his gaze toward her. He looked around him at the endless sea of tan surfaces, and he involuntarily shuddered. "You'll go first," Bobbie said.

Lucky's face tightened as he concentrated on filling out the information to register his visit. He placed a hand over his stomach, glad that it had been emptied at home as he surely didn't want to have an accident at the prison. "Done," he said, handing the pen over to Bobbie.

Bobbie looked him directly in the eye and briefly squeezed his hand. "Enjoy your time with Luke. He's so excited you're coming. It's all he talked about when I last spoke to him. Everything will be all right. If you have any problems, I'll be right here in the waiting room reading a worn out magazine." When Lucky chuckled, she kissed him on the cheek. "Have fun."

Lucky followed the guard and disappeared into the prison.

~*~*~*~

Luke tapped his foot and looked at the wall clock twenty times as he waited for his son to appear. It had been several months since he'd last seen Lucky at the courthouse, and that visit had been an odd combination of a blissful reunion and tumultuous blowup. What tone would this visit take? Lucky had spoken of forgiveness and moving on. Luke hoped that he still felt that way. He was ready to have a relationship with his son again, a real relationship based on mutual respect and friendship. All of his anxieties fled from him and were replaced by a warm rush of pleasure at the sight of Lucky entering the room.

"Lucky," he called out happily with a quick wave of his hand. "Over here."

Lucky grinned and walked over to the seating area that Luke had reserved. There weren't many visitors that day, and a small amount of privacy was possible with the guard stationed ten feet away. Lucky plopped down onto the chair next to his father, looking to Luke like he was all arms and legs. Lucky tapped on the armrests. "Hi, Dad," he said. Father and son looked each other over during a brief moment of silence. Luke's face appeared timeworn with a new crop of wrinkles lining his cheeks, and Lucky looked untidy with a mop of unruly hair and a pale face.

"Stand up," Luke ordered. "Let me see you." He turned Lucky around and waved his son's arms up and down. "Yep. You're all in one piece."

"Da-aad," Lucky complained. "After all these years, you still like to embarrass me."

Luke frowned. "I’m just making sure all of your limbs are intact. It's a father's prerogative." His eyes twinkled as his smile broadened. "You've grown."

Lucky toed at an imaginary speck of dirt on the floor. "Yep," he agreed.

Luke reached over to jostle his son's shoulder and line him up next to his own stature. "You're only two inches shorter than me," Luke exclaimed. "When did this happen?"

Lucky took his seat again and crossed his legs. "I've been growing since I moved in with Tony and Bobbie. It must be Aunt Bobbie's cooking." Lucky's mind took him to the incident at breakfast, and he suddenly felt nauseous. He grimaced and ran his hand over his stomach.

"Anything wrong?" Luke asked, taking in his queasy expression.

Lucky shook his head. "No, no." His eyes darted around the room, avoiding Luke's gaze. "How are they treating you?" he asked in a blatant attempt to take the focus off of him.

Luke noticed the chillier tone that his son took and tried to shrug it off. "Look around," he said with a wave of his hand. "The visitors' area is much nicer, don't you think? Not all that metallic gray." Luke raised his wrists in the air. "Or the shackles, either." He nodded. "Life isn't perfect, but it's good. I'm looking forward to being out of course, to seeing more of you kids." Luke saw the fear in Lucky's eyes and the skittish mannerisms that surrounded the kid, and it concerned him. "Are you still feeling the aftereffects of the murder attempt?" he asked.

"I'm fine!" Lucky protested a bit too quickly and loudly. He turned red and looked down at his folded hands. Seconds crept by. "Okay. I admit it. I never could lie to you. I'm still having problems with things. I don't like to eat because I have an idea that I might be poisoned again. I know it's not logical, but it's there."

"Have you talked to Kevin about this?"

"Yeah. Well, sort of." Lucky lowered his voice so that Luke had to strain to hear his son.  "He said I'd have some issues with the um, the psychosis. It takes a few weeks or so to go away completely." He coughed and shook his head.

"How's the pneumonia?"

"I still have it. It's getting better, though. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. I should know more then."

"You gave me quite a scare."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You're not to blame."

"I am. I was a jerk to you for a long time. I should have made peace with you years ago. That's why I was so frantic to talk to you that day. I was afraid I'd die without telling you I loved you."

"I've always known you loved me. We've had our problems. Most fathers and sons do. Now it's past us. We've moved on." Luke tried to catch his son's gaze, but Lucky wouldn't look at him. "What's on your mind, Cowboy? I'm a quick learner, but I'm not a mind reader. I can tell something is bothering you."

"I know," Lucky sighed. "It's about Mom. I didn't think you'd want to discuss it with me."

"I have ears to listen."

Lucky shrugged. "Okay then.  I've been trying to figure out how to forgive her for everything and move on with my life. I've talked to everyone about it, even the pastor at church, but it's hard. I'm having trouble with it."

"Maybe you need to talk to her face to face, get some things off your chest," Luke suggested. "How can you move on if you've never told her how you feel?"

"I guess you're right," Lucky said reluctantly. "Nikolas visited her recently."

"Oh yeah?"

Lucky nodded and picked at a stray thread that stuck out from his jeans. "He told me he was firm with her, that he warned her to shape up or he'd cut her off financially."

A smile quivered at the corners of Luke's mouth. "I'm going to have to meet this new and improved Nikolas when I get out of prison."

Lucky smiled back at Luke's uncharacteristic generosity concerning his brother. "You'd like him. He's been cool to me. I just had to get to know him. He's his own man now, not just a Cassadine flunky. He's starting law school this fall, like Alexis."

"Mhmm."

Lucky knew he'd better drop the subject of his brother while he was ahead, but he sat up straighter in his seat when another thought hit him. "I found out something about Mom that you might be interested in. I don't think you knew about it."

"What's that?"

"Nikolas asked her about the family history of mental illness. Her natural father had schizophrenia, and she's been diagnosed with bipolar disorder."

"Why that's an interesting term to describe our Laura," Luke said in a falsely sweet voice.

Lucky laughed and patted his sneaker. "Guess where the genes came from? I was unfortunate enough to inherit the motherlode. At least it's not my fault entirely. I mean, I didn't do it to myself or something. I thought I had for a long time, that I was a wimp who couldn't deal with his life."

"Don't sell yourself short, Cowboy," Luke said. "You've had more to deal with in one lifetime than many people put together."

"I should be in a soap opera," Lucky moaned as he rubbed the top of his head. Luke smiled at the reminder of his own habit mirrored by Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior.  

"What would we call it?" Luke joked.

"Port Charles?" Lucky guessed.

"Nah. Too boring. Adventures of an insignificant river town? No one would watch it."

Luke and Lucky sat quietly for a moment. "How's Miss Emily?" Luke asked. "Did you make up with her?"

"Oh," Lucky said. He perked up instantly at the mention of his girlfriend. "We're fine. She's great. I had her over to the house and told her everything." Lucky's voice took on a serious tone. "I mean everything," he said for emphasis. "She understands. She forgave me, and now it's cool. I'm crazy about her of course. I think about her all the time. I can't wait until we start college. She's going to PCU like me, and we share one general studies class."

"When does school start?"

"The end of August. I still have plenty of summer left."

"Any plans?"

Lucky stroked his chin. "Well, I'm on a GH baseball team. Actually, I'm the assistant coach since I can't play because of the pneumonia. I made a new friend in the day program. He's on the ball team now, and we're going to dinner tomorrow night to talk about the upcoming game. Let's see...Tony and Frisco are building an apartment over the carriage house. I was supposed to help, but I doubt they'll let me."

Luke picked up his son's disapproving tone of voice. "Why won't they let you help?"

"Because they used to build houses when they were in college, and I don't know anything."

"You can learn. I'm sure they'd be happy to teach you. Maybe you could be their apprentice and help out while they teach you."

"Maybe."

Luke reflected that even as a young child Lucky had always insisted on being in charge whenever he was involved with activities. He didn't like being in the background or the lowest guy on the totem pole. "Weren't you going to build Lucas a tree fort?" he suggested. Lucky would enjoy being an inspiration for a younger boy. 

"I forgot about that. I'm surprised Lucas hasn't bugged me. He's had too much fun running around screaming and playing in the yard. He's a handful. I have to watch him like a hawk when I'm babysitting."

"Speaking of babies, how is my Lulu-belle?"

"Lulu is great. She gets along well with Lucas - too well sometimes. They have a tendency to gang up on me and persuade me to do what they want."  A smile creased Lucky's face. "She's real cute these days. She can't stop swinging her long hair around, and Aunt Bobbie takes real good care of her." Lucky's face changed in an instant as a sad look crept over it. "I am so relieved she's away from Mom. At least the same thing didn't happen to her - with all the men coming and going from the house." Lucky stood up abruptly and walked several paces away from his father, turning his back on him and refusing to look at him.

Luke walked up behind Lucky and gently placed his hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have known what was happening."

"I just wish I were Lulu's age with a different life," Lucky said. "I'd like to start over."

"You're starting over now, aren't you?"

"Some things never go away. They make us who we are."

"True.   But don't we become better by learning and growing? That's what I'm counting on for myself."

Lucky turned slightly and glanced at his father. "You've changed," he said. "You're a lot calmer now - not as twitchy or demanding."

Luke cackled. "Twitchy? That's a new one. No one's ever called me twitchy before. What's that mean, anyway?"

"Oh, you know. Quick temper, say it before you think, that kind of thing."

"I've learned how to listen," Luke agreed. "It's better than shooting your mouth off all the time."

"I still do that," Lucky said. "I get riled up and then all the wrong words come out."

"Spencer curse."

"Yeah. At least we don't have the red hair like Aunt Bobbie."

"Tons worse," Luke said in a mocking tone. "And PMS, too."

Lucky bust out laughing and ended it with a hoarse cough when he drew air into his lungs too quickly. "You're gonna kill me," he complained as he held a hand to his chest. "I miss laughing with you. We used to do that a lot."

"We did and we will continue," Luke said. 

Lucky glanced at the wall clock and then the guard. "I'd better go. It's Aunt Bobbie's turn now."

Luke pulled Lucky into a quick hug before he could protest. He swatted at a lock of Lucky's wayward hair. "Getting your strength back, Samson?" he teased.

Lucky irritably brushed Luke's hand away but smiled in spite of himself. "Yep. I'm growing it long again."

Luke shook Lucky's hand. "I love you, son. Thanks for coming. You'll be here in two weeks?"

Lucky nodded. "I love you, too, Dad," he answered with a catch in his voice. "I'll be back soon."

~*~*~*~

"Aunt Bobbie? Can I have the keys to the car? I'd rather wait out there and listen to the radio." Lucky shifted on his feet and looked around him nervously. He had no intention of staying in this place longer than absolutely necessary. He felt like he was going to explode and needed to do it in private. He held out his hand as he impatiently waited for Bobbie to dig the keys out of her purse.

"I'll only be twenty minutes," Bobbie said as she handed over the keys.

"Don't hurry on my account," Lucky said over his shoulder as he nearly dashed to the entrance door.

~*~*~*~

Lucky unlocked the driver's side door of Bobbie's Volvo station wagon and slid into the front seat. He inserted the key into the ignition and contemplated turning it on and driving off, taking a mini joy ride while his aunt was visiting his father. He ran his fingers over the steering wheel and gripped it as he let the temptation pass.

It had been such a long time since he'd driven a car - was it seven months already? He felt a wave of dismay rise within him. He missed his old Mustang with a passion -  with almost as much passion as he'd originally had for the automobile upon purchasing it. Why did he have to like cars so much? Not being able to drive might not bug another guy as much as it did him. For him, driving represented freedom, the ability to pack up one's belongings in a frenzied minute and dash away to the next destination. He'd driven illegally for years, what did it matter if he did it again? Because I might kill someone if I had a seizure while behind the wheel, he reminded himself. I was a safer driver when I was ten years old and barely able to see above the windshield. People depended on me back then. Dad and I - we were welded at the hip.

Lucky saddened as he continued to think about his father. I had a hard time talking to him today. It's almost like I didn't want to get too close because the visit would end, and I'd lose him all over again. It's like that Groundhog Day movie where the character wakes up to the same day every morning. I keep losing him over and over again. Lucky felt  tears slide down his cheeks. The threatening emotional explosion that he'd sensed back at the prison was upon him now. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel and wept for a long time. He wept for the missed father and son talks, the ball games, the advice given over leftovers at the kitchen table. He missed his dad's warmth and goofy sense of humor, his daily presence in his life, and his strength and wisdom. It was time for him to grow up and be his own man, but he stilled missed the most important man in his life.

Lucky raised his head and wiped off his tears with a swipe of his forearm. He sniffed loudly and cursed when his cursory check throughout the car revealed his aunt's fastidious nature. No leftover fast food napkins, like Tony's vehicle. He sniffed and sniveled, and finally decided to crank up the radio and stand outside of the car with the window rolled down, soaking himself in the sun and allowing it to dry his remaining tears as he listened to music. The sun felt good beating down on his head, and he almost regretted it when he saw his aunt walking toward the car. Time to go home. Why did he feel like running away?

~*~*~*~

Lucky climbed the carriage house stairs and leaned against the doorway, watching his uncle and Frisco working together as a team. They seemed to move gracefully with the coordination of brothers who read each others' movements. One person handed materials to the other who promptly nailed them into place.

"Hey," Lucky called out.

Tony turned around. "Hi, Lucky. What's up?"

"Just checking to see how the carriage house is coming along."

Frisco smiled. "We're really making progress. Construction is like riding a bike. You never forget the basics."

Tony dusted his hands off. "I'd forgotten how much I enjoy building houses." He held up his gloved hands. "Have to protect these, though."

Lucky nodded glumly, and Tony picked up a strange vibe from his nephew. "We'll be ready for some painting soon. Do you want to help out with that?"

Lucky's face tightened, and he crossed his arms against his uncle's suggestion. "I have my own project," he said. "I promised Lucas I'd build him a tree fort. I was checking to see if you had any scraps I could work with."

"You're a lifesaver," Tony grinned. "Lucas has been Jonesing for a tree fort."

Frisco laughed loudly. "You're such a cornball, Tony. Jonesing. Cute, real cute."

Tony shrugged. He pointed to a corner of the room. "There's an extra box of nails in that pile and some wood scraps downstairs along the wall. You can take what you want. There's also an extra tool box down there for whatever you need - screwdrivers, hammers."

"Fine," Lucky said. "Thanks." After bending over and grabbing a box of nails, he left without saying anything else.

"Did I detect a cool breeze?" Frisco asked. "What's eating him?"

"I don't know." Tony replied. "He visited his father today. Maybe that's why he's moody."

~*~*~*~

Lucky sat at the kitchen table, working steadily with a pencil and paper.

"What are you drawing?" Bobbie asked. She opened the bread on the countertop to begin making sandwiches for lunch.

"Plans. For a tree fort. It's for Lucas."

"Oh my!" Bobbie exclaimed. "He's going to be one happy little boy."

"I hope so." Lucky's tongue stuck out as he drew the pencil around to connect another line.

"I'll let you make your own sandwich since you know what you like," Bobbie said.

"That's good," Lucky answered. He rose from the table and took out two pieces of bread, placing them directly on the table.

"Plate?" Bobbie asjed.

Lucky pulled out a paper napkin and placed the bread on top. "How's that?"

Bobbie sighed. It wasn't worth fighting over table manners.

Lucky retrieved the peanut butter from the pantry and spooned a huge amount onto the bread, pausing to lick the spoon clean. Bobbie's eyebrows rose. As long as he's eating. She resisted the temptation to stare at Lucky. Luke had spoken to her at the beginning of their visit this morning about his concerns regarding his son.

*** "Barbara Jean, I have a strange vibe about Lucky. I know he's hesitant in a prison setting, it's not that."

"Well, what is it, Luke?"

"I don't know. It's like he's fixing to run."

"Why in the world would he want to do that? He's been so happy with us. We love having him in our home. It is his home."

"You know him well, Barbara, but you don't know Lucky like I do. All those years on the road. He's twitchy."

Bobbie was puzzled. "What's so funny, Luke?"

"It's something Lucky said to me today. He said I had changed, that I was less twitchy. I just find it amusing to describe Lucky with that same word."

Bobbie's eyes twinkled. "Well, you are two peas in a pod. Lucas Lorenzo Junior and Senior."

"Just watch him closely, okay? Make an old man happy."

"Anything for you, brother dearest." ***

Bobbie glanced at Lucky again. "Will you have time for a nap this afternoon?" she asked.

Lucky shook his head with his mouth full of sandwich. He chewed slowly and then swallowed. "Nope.  I have to build this fort."

"You can take your time doing that."

"No. I want to build it today," Lucky insisted.

Bobbie shrugged but continued to watch him. "Promise me you'll stop if you're tired. You're still recuperating."

"Whatever."

~*~*~*~

Lucky hoisted himself up into the tree with a box of nails in his pocket, two boards in his hand and his tree fort plans rolled up and held between his teeth. He figured he'd better get used to climbing the tree as there were no flat surfaces to store the pieces of lumber that he'd scavenged from the carriage house project. When he'd nailed the first two foundational boards into place, he watched with amusement as his tree fort plans floated down to the ground. I don't need those. I memorized them anyway. I still have a quick mind.

Lucky repeatedly shimmied down and climbed back up the tree. After an hour of labor, he became totally sweat drenched with his exertion in the summer heat and sun. He felt woozy. Okay. I have the entire foundation built. I can stop for today and take a shower.

Lucky felt funny as he slid back down the tree trunk. He stumbled to the side when his feet hit the ground. Damn. He walked back to the house and turned around when he reached the back door in order to admire his handiwork. Cool. Can't wait until Lucas comes home. He'll be so excited.

"Oh boy!" Bobbie exclaimed when Lucky trudged through the living room.

"I know," Lucky said. "I must reek for a mile. I'm going for a shower."

"Good choice," Bobbie called after him. Thank goodness he stopped. I was about to ask Tony to demand he come back into the house. Men.

~*~*~*~

Lucky dried himself off after his brief shower and changed into some fresh clothes. He only bothered with a fresh teeshirt and underwear as he intended to hit the bed for a much needed nap. He flexed his biceps and noted their stiffness and the fact that they'd likely be sore the next day. A headache was creeping up on him, and he startled himself when a wave of vertigo assaulted him, sending him to the floor on one knee. What was that? I need to go to bed. He dried off his hair without bothering to comb it and sauntered down the hall to his bedroom. "I'm taking a nap," he yelled over the banister.

"Good," Bobbie called back. "I'll wake you for dinner."

Lucky collapsed onto his bed and held a hand to the side of his head. Headache go away. I should have taken a Tylenol. Now I’m too lazy to go back and get one. He gripped his pillow and fell asleep instantly. After half an hour, he was deeply asleep, motionless on the bed. Unbeknownst to him, his right arm started shaking, and his left leg followed suit. He grunted several times but not loudly enough that it carried past his closed door. After several minutes the shaking stopped, and he continued to sleep on.

An hour later, when Bobbie knocked on his door, he didn't wake up or call out. She slipped open the door and walked inside to wake up her nephew. "Lucky," she said. "Dinner is ready." When he didn't respond, she lightly shook his shoulder.

Lucky's eyes opened slightly, but he made no effort to move. After a second, he mumbled, "I don't feel good." He rose slowly to a sitting position and said thickly, "I have a headache."

"You need to eat," Bobbie said. "That'll make the headache go away."

"Yeah," Lucky said, unconvinced. "Give me a minute, and I'll be down."

~*~*~*~

When Lucky stumbled into the kitchen, Lucas rushed him and pulled on his arm. "Lucky, Lucky. I saw the tree fort. You started on it. I'm so happy!"

Lucky gave him a halfhearted smile. "Good," he said. He misjudged the positioning of his chair and half slid off of it.

Tony looked at him sharply, aware that Lucky's behavior and movements were inordinately slow and clumsy. "Did you overdo it today? You seem very tired."

Lucky's glassy eyes directed toward Tony, and he shook his head. "Just a bit sleepy from my nap. That's all."

Tony couldn't help but notice that Lucky's coloring was pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes, but he let it go.

Everyone grew excited when Bobbie brought the food to the table, but Lucky's stomach clenched violently. His nose was assaulted with the odor of cooked meat and vegetables. He rose quickly from his chair and fell back against the table before regaining his momentum and awkwardly propelling himself toward the half bath nearby.

Everyone could hear him retching, and Lucas held his nose as he made a face at Lulu who laughed at her cousin's expression. "Ewwww," she said prissily.

Tony's face betrayed his concern, and he rose from the table when the sounds stopped. He knocked lightly on the bathroom door. "Lucky? Can I come in? I want to see if you're okay."

"Yeah," a weak voice emitted from the other end of the closed door. Tony opened the door to the sight of Lucky lying curled up in a ball on the floor. "What's the matter?" he asked.

Lucky held a hand to his head. "I felt dizzy before I took a nap, and I've had a headache. Then, when I smelled the food, it made me sick."

Lucky groaned when Tony helped him up to his feet. He leaned against the wall and grimaced. Tony led him out to the hallway and said, "I'm concerned about you. Come with me to the living room, so I can look you over. How long have you had the headache?"

"I don't know," Lucky said. "Off and on for two days? Maybe that's why I didn't sleep well last night. I felt groggy this morning."

Maybe he's been seizing at night. Tony wondered. It would explain his sleepiness and moody behavior. One hand was on his nephew's shoulder and the other around his waist as Lucky was unsteady on his feet. Tony slowly led him through the foyer, but stopped abruptly at the feel of Lucky's body slipping past him on its way to the floor.

Lucky's body banged onto the wooden floor, followed by the sound of a swift expulsion of air from his lungs. Tony's heart clenched when his nephew turned rigid and blue in the beginnings of a seizure. He jumped back and shouted for Frisco and Bobbie when Lucky thrashed violently in the second phase of his seizure.

"He's having a secondary generalized seizure," Tony said tensely as he looked at his watch. "Frisco, I need you to help me carry him to the car if he doesn't come out of this quickly. Bobbie, would you grab the medical supplies in the closet of the study? You remember the supplies we agreed to keep on hand if this happened?"

Bobbie nodded and raced for the study.

Frisco watched Lucky with a tense face. "Is this dangerous?" he asked his older brother.

"Yes," Tony answered. "Seizures are always potentially dangerous, but especially if they continue for longer than a few minutes."

Bobbie came back with the bag of supplies. After four minutes or so, Lucky suddenly stopped thrashing on the floor and remained still. Tony bent over to try to wake his nephew, but Lucky wasn't responding. "Come on, Lucky!" Tony said loudly. Lucas and Lulu were hovering in the background with scared looks on their faces, no longer making fun of Lucky's predicament. Tony shook Lucky's shoulder and patted him on the face, but he neither moved nor opened his eyes. Tony rolled him over onto his back and looked him over carefully. When he noted that Lucky's eyes were rolled up into his head with a bare quivering of his eyelids, he motioned for Bobbie. "He's in status epilepticus. He's still seizing. Let's hook him up to the IV. Frisco, get the car ready. We can have him at GH quicker than an ambulance."

Bobbie worked quickly as she was aware of the gravity of the situation. Continual seizures could mean permanent neurological damage or death. Tony injected diazepam into the IV, and both waited to see if it would have an effect. Tony watched closely and injected a larger amount of diazepam, quickly following with another dose when that didn't work. Bobbie's eyes filled with tears as Tony worked on him, and she felt a hysteria rising within her.

The sound of an automobile turning its engine drifted into the house, and Frisco entered the living room again. "How is he?"

"One more try with the diazepam, and then we're off to GH," Tony said.  Finally, Lucky made a noise, a soft sigh actually, and Tony was flooded with relief. "He's stopped. Let's not waste any time, though. I need the monitoring equipment at the hospital."

Lucky's head lolled as the two men lifted him up from the floor by his arms and legs, carrying him swiftly but carefully through the front door, which Bobbie had opened widely. "I'll call you with news," Tony called out over his shoulder as the two men headed to the waiting car.

~*~*~*~

Lucky's eyes fluttered open and then closed again when they were assaulted by the bright light. He made a low noise and raised his hand to his head. He felt someone take his hand and remove it.

"Hey, Lucky.  It's Uncle Tony."

Lucky's puzzled eyes opened again to the sight of Tony's face. "Where am I?" he asked.

"You're in the neurological unit at GH," Tony said. "You had a serious seizure last night, and we had to bring you in. Your brain wave activity is being monitored. That's why I don't want you touching your head."

Lucky frowned. "What time is it?"

"It's nine AM. You slept all night because of the seizure and the drugs we gave you. You had another seizure after the monitoring equipment was set up - that's not good, but it was fortunate in a way since we were able to record its activity. It's valuable information."

"When can I leave?"

Tony smiled at Lucky's understandable reluctance to be in the hospital yet again. "I'll pick you up before I go home tonight. We want to monitor you for a few more hours. You can take it easy today - sleep and watch TV. I imagine you don't feel like doing much else anyway."

"No," Lucky agreed. His fingers moved over the smooth surface of his hospital blanket, and he squinted his eyes as he took in the white surfaces of his hospital room. He saw the squiggly lines on the machine beside his bed, which was recording his brain waves. He closed his eyes again as the light was making him nauseous. "What does this mean?" he asked slowly.

"The drugs aren't controlling the seizures as well as I'd like. We'd discussed surgery before, and I'd like to explore that now. I called a colleague of mine in New York City, and he's agreed to take on your case. As your uncle, I can be your neurologist, but I can't perform surgery on you. This man is an expert I met at the conference I attended several months ago. I have a lot of respect for him. I made an appointment for you in two weeks. He might be able to do surgery as early as Christmas break. We'll see."

"New York City," Lucky repeated. "I was gonna live there with Elizabeth."

Tony patted Lucky's shoulder. "Go back to sleep. Have a nurse page me if you need anything, okay?"

Lucky nodded sleepily.

Tony rose from his chair and stood at the doorway, looking at his nephew. Job's got nothing on you, kid. If we can eliminate the epilepsy by surgery, that's one hurdle you won't miss and one less worry for all of us. Lucky didn't know it, but Tony had been the person who'd bought his red Mustang. It was now in storage, waiting to become a surprise for his nephew when he was finally able to drive again. Maybe it would make a good Christmas present.

Next...