Chapter Sixty
Next day...
When Lucky woke up, he was still unsure of where he was. He'd remembered more metal surfaces in Faison's compound and not as many women around. What had Faison done to him now and what would happen next? How would he make it out alive? Lucky ran his unsure hands over the blankets on his bed, wondering at their rough yet soft texture. He lay still on the bed, trembling and breathing raggedly when he thought of all of the people surrounding him with their questions and demands. They all wore white, and that scared him - they were the same person he thought, but in different bodies. He frowned worriedly and nervously chewed on his fingernails, the uncertainty rustling and rambling repeatedly throughout his mind.
The door opened and another one of those people in white approached him. He made a soft cry and scrambled up against the headboard of his bed, still gnawing on his fingers, defensively raising an elbow against the intruder.
"Hi, Lucky," said Barb in a happy, yet soft tone of voice. She moved slowly over to his IV, replacing the bag with a fresh one. She noted Lucky's reaction to her and tried to have a calming effect on him. "I see you slept well last night, that's good," she said smiling.
Lucky lstared at her face and over at the IV. Panic rose in him. The tube that ran from the pole down to his arm moved. He jumped and thought he saw it twist like a snake. When he jerked his arm, the IV site stung and burned his flesh, and he screamed loudly as the snake bit a mortal wound into his flesh and slithered up his arm.
Barb moved over to his bed, and he freaked, sure that she was the one who brought in the killer viper. He slapped at his arm and earnestly shouted as he rose to his knees. The snakes started climbing the bed and twisting towards him, grabbing him by the ankle and crawling up his leg - first one, then two then five of them.
Lucky thrashed wildly on the bed, flinging his arms and legs and crying and screaming, "GET OFF! THEY'RE ON ME!" Alerted to the commotion, two more people in white ran into the room, and one grabbed him firmly from behind, immobilizing him from the chest up. The other person held Lucky's legs tightly as he tried to twist and jerk free. "NO! DAD SNAKES KILLED NO!"
Barb returned with a syringe and exposed an injection site. Lucky screamed at the top of his lungs when he felt the sting, sure that another snake had bitten him. He continued to weakly jerk and cry out until the strong sedative took hold, and his head lolled to the side with his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell with his rapid breaths.The psych techs released their hold on him and laid him back onto the bed.
"I called Dr. Collins," Barb said tensely.
~*~*~*~
Bobbie walked into the psychiatric ward and moved steadily towards Lucky's room. She had the afternoon off and decided to pay Lucky a visit. "Hi, Barb," she said brightly as she saw a familiar face near his room. "How's my nephew?" she asked, expecting to hear about his improvement.
Barb's face looked worried. "He's had some problems, especially this morning," she said.
"What problems?"
"I'm sorry, Bobbie," Barb said. "Lucky's experiencing another psychotic episode. He's been sedated repeatedly today. Every time the sedative wears off, he starts up again."
Bobbie's face pulled into a tense mask. "What do you mean by starting up?"
"He's afraid of something. It's hard to tell. His words don't make any sense. But he's definitely confused, agitated and pretty much screams continually."
"Well, can I see him?" Bobbie asked softly. "Maybe he'll recognize me and calm down."
"That would be wonderful if it were the case," Barb said, shaking her head. "Let's find out what happens."
Bobbie's heart sank when she saw Lucky on the bed, panting and sweating on his side with mangled hair and hooded eyes. He didn't raise his head when she crossed over to his bed.
"Lucky, it's your Aunt Bobbie," she said softly. "I'm here to visit you. Can you tell me what's wrong?" Barb stood to the side, watching carefully.
Lucky looked up at the voice with misery and defeat reflecting in his drugged eyes. "Aunt Bobbie," he mumbled tiredly, his chin on the blankets, and his eyes staring straight ahead.
Bobbie looked over at Barb whose faced brightened as she shrugged her shoulders.
Bobbie sat down slowly and carefully on the bed. "Lucky, what's wrong?"
"Where am I?" Lucky asked in a sad voice. "I'm lost and I can't find me."
"You're lying on your bed, talking to your Aunt Bobbie," she replied. "And that's a good place to be."
"Idon'tknowIdon'tknowIdon'tknow," he said defeatedly as he closed his eyes and sighed.
"I'm your aunt, you're my nephew and your hair is a mess," Bobbie said in a parental tone. "Will you let me fix it? It needs to be washed and combed."
That would be a miracle, thought Barb.
"Aunt Bobbie washed my hair when I was hurt," said Lucky. "She didn't pull it."
"Yes, I washed your hair and never pulled it," agreed Bobbie, delighted that he remembered the times that she'd stayed with him after he was shot many years before. Barb went to get the supplies, hopeful that Lucky's aunt was making a breakthrough.
"She can wash my hair. It doesn't hurt," he whispered.
Bobbie rolled her eyes, wondering how she'd get those mats out without pulling on a single hair.
~*~*~*~
Bobbie watched Lucky sleep. The nurses had been so impressed that she'd managed to not only bathe him, but also wash and groom his hair, something no one else had been able to do for him. She had kept his terror at bay by talking gently about a lot of his childhood memories - birthday parties at the brownstone, movies they'd watched together, jokes they'd shared. Bobbie felt anxiety hitting her stomach when she recalled that he didn't seem to fully understand that she was Bobbie. They just talked about his Aunt Bobbie as if she weren't there. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Maybe all these years of nursing will come in handy, she thought.
~*~*~*~
He smelled it before he saw it coming, a heavy onion-laced aroma wrapped within bread and hamburger. Lucky raised his head from the round table next to where he was seated on a hard, white plastic chair. Tony Jones approached him carrying the trademark White Castle white and blue sack of ten.
"Can I sit here with you?" asked Tony with a kind smile. "I have a huge bag of burgers and thought you might be able to help me eat them." Tony sat on a white chair adjacent to Lucky and pulled out little boxes of burgers. "I've decided to take my lunch break up here with you," he announced as he spread the mustard packets over one burger after another. He pushed two burger boxes over to Lucky. "Eat up," he directly happily.
Lucky was hesitant, stretching his fingers slowly toward a box while sneaking a furtive glance at Tony. When the box was in his possession, he spoke in a sad, quiet voice, "Are you my Uncle Tony? You look like him, but I don't know. You could be pretending." Lucky's voice shook nervously with his last words, and he rubbed his finger longingly on top of the burger bun.
"Yes, I'm your Uncle Tony. Who else brings you junk food all the time? We're junk food partners, remember? Lovers of burgers, pizza and Hamburger Helper." Tony smiled and raised his eyebrows in amusement while holding Lucky's stunned gaze.
Lucky's eyes filled with tears, but he picked up a burger and took a tiny bite before laying it down again. He chewed slowly, his head bowed. He munched on his burger until it was finished, and then he reached for a second.
Thank goodness. He's eating some real food, thought Tony with relief. "Are you thirsty?" he asked. "Those can be a little salty," he said, pointing toward the empty boxes. Lucky nodded, and Tony left the table. Lucky reached for two more boxes and finished them by the time Tony returned with a large bottle of orange juice.
Tony uncapped the top and passed it to Lucky. "How about a little walk around the room to aid the digestion," he suggested as he patted his stomach with a bloated look on his face. He held his hand out to Lucky. Tony and Lucky walked very slowly around the room with Tony's hand supporting his nephew's back.
~*~*~*~
"So we're all ready for Lulu's arrival tomorrow?" asked Tony as he walked into the brownstone living room.
Bobbie nodded and tiptoed to kiss her fiancé lightly on the lips. "Yes, all systems are go. The spare bedroom is cleaned out, Lucas has been debriefed, and Lulu is signed up for classes at the academy."
"Do you know what her favorite foods are?" asked Tony, fully prepared to make a last minute run to the grocery store. "Because we want her to feel at home."
Bobbie laughed with twinkling eyes. "I've never met a child yet that didn't like spaghetti and ice cream."
Tony plopped down into a chair and lifted his legs up onto the ottoman. "Oh, I know," he said easily. "I just want everything to be perfect I guess."
Bobbie put on her coat and gloves. "I'll be back in about twenty minutes," she said. "I'm picking up Lucas - he's playing at the Garcia's."
Tony rose from the chair. "I can go," he offered.
Bobbie waved her hand and shook her head. "No. Sit," she replied firmly. "You've been in surgery all day. I know how you need to crash and take it easy after that. I'll be back in a few."
Tony reclined back in the chair and closed his eyes, ready for an impromptu nap. He folded his hands over his stomach and drew in a deep breath. After a couple of minutes, his head started to nod and lean down, and his hands fell into his lap.
"MOM!" the loud voice called out, reverberating through the brownstone and rattling the crystal glasses in the china cabinet. Tony's legs shot straight out and his arms fumbled with the chair as he struggled up, jolted out of his nap.
Carly walked boldly into the brownstone living room, dragging Michael behind her with a firm hand. "Oh," she said flatly as she stood in front of Tony. "Where's my mom?" she demanded.
Tony groaned to himself, Same old Carly.
"Your mother is picking up Lucas from a playmate's house," he explained. He glanced at his watch. "She'll be home in ten minutes or so if you want to wait for her."
Carly looked uneasy for a moment, shifting her feet and jiggling her purse with in one tense hand as she gripped Michael's hand tightly with her other hand. "Well, okay," she said reluctantly as she sat on the leather couch. "We'll wait a couple of minutes."
Tony noticed that Michael seemed bored and fidgety. "Do you want to play with some of Lucas' toys while you wait?" he asked with a smile. Michael pulled a shy face and placed his index fingertip in his mouth. "Yes," he said in a breathy quiet voice as he nodded his head and darted a quick glance in Tony's direction.
Tony got up and headed to Lucas' room, returning in a minute with a monster truck. "How's this, big guy?" he asked as he handed it to Michael's waiting arms. "Yes!" agreed Michael happily. He plopped down onto the floor and started rolling it back and forth making loud monster truck vroom noises.
"Um, that's nice, Tony, thank you," said Carly.
"No problem." A few moments of tense, drawn out silence followed.
"So I hear you're marrying my mother again."
"Yes," said Tony. "We're very happy and looking forward to being married. Right now, we're concentrating on helping Lucky and Lulu. The wedding won't be until this summer."
Carly rubbed her lips together. "That's cool how you've helped my cousin. You were there when he needed someone." Carly looked down into her lap as a flush of color rose in her cheeks. "So, uh, thanks, I guess." Carly sighed and started to bang her purse against her leg in time with an unheard rhythm. She cleared her throat, frowned and looked around the room expectantly. "Where is she?" she wondered out loud.
Michael scooted over to Tony and tugged on his pants leg. "Play with me," he demanded. Tony laughed and looked over at Carly who shrugged. He sat down on the floor and caught the truck that Michael pushed over to him, and then pushed it back to Michael. The two continued the game for several minutes.
"You're good with kids," Carly observed in spite of herself.
Tony looked up and smiled. "I like them a lot. They're fun," he said lightly as he continued to play with Michael.
"I suppose we'll have to come up with a name or a title or something for you after you marry my mother," she stated with resignation. "What should Michael call you? Tony, Dr. Tony, Grandpa Jones?" She laughed at her last suggestion.
Tony laughed, too. "I'll be called dad and uncle on a daily basis," he explained. "Grandpa wouldn't hurt. But I refuse to grow a gray beard and lose my hair," he added.
Carly tittered and traced the rug with her foot. "Michael doesn't have a grandpa, really, so that's okay," she said, surprised at hearing her own words. "Truce?" she asked boldly as she stuck out her hand in Tony's direction.
Tony smiled as he accepted and shook Carly's hand. "Truce," he agreed warmly.
~*~*~*~
Lucky sat uneasily in a chair in front of Kevin's desk. His right leg was up on the seat, and he held it with a death grip as he warily surveyed the room's interior with his peripheral vision. He was so tired, and there were so many questions all day long. They were trying to break him, and he'd promised himself that he wouldn't crack - not this time. He chewed nervously and vigorously on his fingers, the blood dripping down in some from where his teeth had torn his nails beyond the quick. The man in front of him had asked another series of questions, and he tried valiantly to ignore him, to pretend that no questions were even asked because he knew he couldn't answer. He avoided the man's gaze as he couldn't bear to see the reaction to his disobedience.
Lucky started shaking and sweating, his breaths coming fast and shallow. Lucky thought he heard another round of questions - the rising tone signaled a question. He looked down at his knee and held his breath as the tears formed in his eyes. He shook his head vigorously, and his face grew red with his efforts at hiding his emotions. He couldn't show any fear - they picked up on that and used it against him time after time. When the man rose from his seat and walked carefully over to Lucky and stood beside his chair, Lucky froze. He wanted to scream, but nothing would come out of his dry throat. He waited for the chokehold or the instrument of torture to descend on him. As the painful memories flooded his conscious mind, he couldn't bear it anymore and blanked out his surroundings, mentally retreating to a soft, white foggy place where no one could find him or hurt him anymore.
Kevin had been asking Lucky a couple mild questions about his day, what he ate, how his visit was with his uncle. Lucky disintegrated in front of him, and Kevin became concerned that Lucky'd become physically ill. Kevin noted Lucky's extreme reaction when he moved over to his chair to reassure him, not to hurt him.
Lucky's face lost all tone, and his eyes stared blankly in front of him, not registering his surroundings. His leg fell from the seat of the chair, and his body started leaning dangerously to the side of the chair as he slid toward the floor.
"Oh, Lucky," said Kevin sadly as he bent over to hold him up. "What did they do to you?"