Devolution TOC

Chapter Sixty-One

"Lulu!" Bobbie excitedly called out her niece's name as the plane from North Carolina deboarded. Lulu stood at the entrance to the gate with a stewardess, her small fingers wrapped tightly around the older woman's guiding hand and her expectant blue eyes searching through the crowds for her aunt. Lulu's pink lips parted in a smile as her Aunt Bobbie knelt in front of her and drew her into a big redheaded Spencer hug.

"Look at you, pretty girl," Bobbie admired as she held up Lulu's arms and turned her around to show off her navy blue coat and little black leather boots with matching black tights. Lulu blushed and said, "Hi, Aunt Bobbie," in a small, breathy voice.

Lucas jumped up and down several times until Tony gently restrained him by placing two heavy hands on the youngster's shoulders. Lucas turned up his face to glance at his dad who gave him a "simmer down" look. "Remember what we talked about in the car on the way to the airport?" reminded Tony. "No being rough with Lulu today. She needs time to adjust after her trip. Okay?" Lucas' mouth turned down. "Okay, dad," he said reluctantly. He was bursting at the seams at the idea of a new playmate.

After Bobbie completed the necessary paperwork, she led Lulu over to Tony and Lucas. "Hello Lulu," said Lucas politely. "Welcome to Port Charles." Tony patted Lucas' shoulder with approval. "Can I carry your suitcase?" Lucas asked, pointing to the small brown carry-on that Lulu had. "Thank you," she said shyly as she handed her luggage to her cousin.

Bobbie looked over the kids' heads and smiled at Tony who winked in return.

~*~*~*~

Tony wore the white coat and role of neurologist as he sat on a chair at the small conference table in Kevin's office. "Lucky passed all of his neurological exams," he stated to Kevin as the two physicians reviewed Lucky's case. "The results of his CAT scan and EEG are normal as well. He's been in the lock-down unit for over a week now. What do you think accounts for his behavior?" Tony's face looked drawn and pinched - years older than just a month before. His fingers restlessly flipped the films back and forth.

"Lucky's blood work is in the normal ranges, so we can safely assume that his problems are not biological," replied Kevin. "The lock-down unit itself poses a dilemma for his treatment due to the similarities between the unit and the torture he experienced with his kidnapping." Kevin ran a hand through his hair and sighed with a fatigued face. "His hold on reality is broken. He rapidly shifts back and forth from his present situation to his past memories and has become unable to distinguish between the two."

Tony's fear and frustration was palpable in the room's atmosphere. "What can we do then? What options are left?" he asked in a defeated tone of voice. "Isn't this a 'catch-22' situation for him? He's too ill to leave a lock-down psychiatric unit, yet this very place worsens his condition." Tony shook his head and stared down at his folder.

Kevin appeared lost in thought. "Our starting place is to develop his trust. He's beginning to trust you and Bobbie - and myself I hope."

Tony interrupted with irritation. "But he doesn't know from one moment to the next whether or not we're real or some imposter person. He constantly asks me if I'm really his Uncle Tony because I look like him."

"Yes, that's the point where we start, Tony. When he decides that the people he has daily contact with won't hurt him and show him consistent care and love, then he'll relax to the point where he can actually accept that care and focus on his surroundings."

"We're talking about him like he's a kicked dog," Tony said with disgust.

"Animals are abused sometimes," conceded Kevin. "All social creatures have similar needs. We're establishing a regular schedule for Lucky where he can anticipate his experiences. Consistent messages in all of his interactions are important as well."

Tony leaned back in his chair and changed the subject. "Lucky's job has been farmed out to a temp agency," he stated. "His bosses love his work and want to have him back on staff when he's ready, so that's a blessing. Hopefully, this won't go on so long that his job is in jeopardy."

"It's good that he'll have a job to return to when he's released."

"I had to drop him out of his first semester at PCU," Tony said with regret. "That was a killer. It's so hard to have him lose that. They were great at the university, though. They were willing to apply his paid tuition to the next semester if he's able to attend. Seems like they have a fair number of mentally ill students," he said with a dry laugh. "They actually have a policy for that situation."

"Many mental illnesses begin showing up in the late teens and early twenties," Kevin agreed, nodding. "Mentally ill students often intersect with the university system."

"And profs, too," Tony muttered under his breath at the memories of a few nutty professors he'd had in school.

~*~*~*~

Tony knocked on the door and poked his head in. "Dr. Jones!" said Nikolas warmly. "I just returned to Port Charles. I've only been here at GH for about half an hour. It's great to see you," he said, extending his hand to Tony. "It took me an extra two days to wrap things up since I made a permanent change. Please, sit down." He directed Tony to the seating area with modern abstract patterned upholstered couch, chair and teak coffee table that complemented his modern European décor office.

"What kind of permanent change did you make?" asked Tony.

"I quit my job at L&B," explained Nikolas. "I decided it was allowing me to be immature and foolish, so I dropped it. I'm moving back to Port Charles so I can have a relationship with my brother and sister," he added. "I have four more years before I need to return to Greece to assume my duties, and I want to spend my time well. And," he said, gesturing with a hand waving around the room, "I still own the hospital. My uncle instructed me in business, and I thought I'd try my hand at administration. What do you think?"

"First of all," said Tony with mock sternness, "I told you to call me Tony, remember?" Nikolas blushed and nodded as he looked down at his pants leg and adjusted the immaculate crease. "Secondly, I think it's wonderful, boss," he said smiling as he emphasized the last word.

"I know I'm only twenty-one," explained Nikolas, "but I think I'm up for it."

"I agree," stated Tony. "This hospital could use some new blood. And, Stefan was an excellent businessman. I'm sure he taught you well."

Nikolas' eyes reflected his sadness at the mention of his murdered uncle. "I want to make him proud." Nikolas fidgeted and rearranged his tie. "I always thought he'd be around forever, looking over my shoulder and criticizing my work."

"And what makes you think he's not doing that right now as we speak," said Tony. "Nothing, not even death could keep Stefan from loving and protecting you."

Nikolas gave a small smile as he stroked his chin and stared at the floor, deep in thought.

"Lulu is home with us now," said Tony, changing the subject. "We're having a small Welcome Lulu Party at the brownstone tonight. Do you want to come?"

"Oh, YES," said Nikolas, laughing at his own unrestrained eagerness. "I haven't seen her in two years. I miss her. I wonder if she'll remember me?"

"Oh, no, she's promptly forgotten one of her favorite brothers.".

"Speaking of brothers," said Nikolas. "How's Lucky? Can I visit him? What's going on?"

Tony's face looked tight. "Lucky's not doing well right now, Nikolas. He's experienced some difficulties adjusting after his hospitalization. It's related to his memories of the kidnapping, and those past memories are melding with his present circumstances. They're limiting visitors so he can cope and adjust better. Only Bobbie and I are allowed to visit, but I'll talk to Kevin and see what he can do about placing your name on the list as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Tony." Nikolas' face took on a determined look. "I need to see my brother."

~*~*~*~

Lucky sat on the floor in a corner in his room, his knees drawn up to his chest, head hanging low.  He nervously tapped his right foot and rocked slightly back and forth to a rhythm that drove him from somewhere inside his body. He'd been sitting there for over an hour, and the staff decided to leave him alone since he wasn't screaming incoherently or refusing to cooperate like he had been all morning. Lucky nibbled on the ends of his hair. The odd movements seemed to soothe him as he became lost in his thoughts and feelings.

For days and days, they'd been telling him that his dad couldn't come to visit him, that he was in prison and would write him letters instead. Aunt Bobbie had shown him a letter, but he wasn't sure if it was from his dad or a trick. Faison had tricked him so many times in the compound by promising him that he could go home to his dad. Faison also told him that his dad didn't love him anymore - he wanted distance from a son who couldn't measure up. Is that why his dad was in prison? Had Lucky, his no-good son messed up again? What did he do this time? He couldn't remember, but the fear clung to him mercilessly, infusing him with heavy dread. He was ashamed that they were even able to take him in the first place.

Kevin told him that Elizabeth wasn't his wife, that she wasn't even his girlfriend anymore. He was reasonably sure that it was actually Kevin now, and he hadn't lied to him yet, at least that he knew of. If these things were true, then what else did he not know about? Lucky's anxiety increased, and he picked up his rocking pace. He felt antsy all over and couldn't seem to control his muscles sometimes, a fact that made him panic all the more. He was sure that he was going to die in this place, whatever it was. They were poisoning him - his brain felt fuzzy, and he couldn't formulate a decent escape plan. His had dad always emphasized the need for a good plan.

*** "Don't ever let them take you, son," Luke instructed his seven year old son. "We have a lot of enemies, and they'd like nothing more than to kidnap you to get back at me and your mom." Lucky's young eyes intensely searched his father's face for truth and meaning. "It's life and death. Don't give them the chance to grab you and move you to a different place. Fight them with everything you have. Don't give in. Once they take you, you're as good as dead." ***

"As good as dead," Lucky repeated softly to himself. "I'm dead, I'm dead," he said out loud as he clenched his fists.

*** Five year old Lucky was alone at the small adobe house with his father. It was a desert hideaway with no one around for miles. So far, they'd been safe there for months. Frank Smith's men had not caught up with them yet. Laura had taken the truck into town to shop for the usual month's supply of groceries while Luke stayed behind with their young son, chopping wood and taking care of the outside chores. The large Cadillac with blacked out windows appeared out of nowhere, almost with the appearance of a desert mirage descending on them in a swirling cloud of sand and gunfire. Luke's body twisted sharply as he instinctively reached for his young son, and he grabbed one of Lucky's arms as he fell to the desert floor with a loud cry of pain. The Cadillac raced off, its tires burning rubber, as it fled the scene.

Lucky felt smothered with the heavy weight of his father's body covering him entirely. His small body struggled for air, and he moved his arms and legs frantically trying to escape the deadly pressure. His head finally emerged from under Luke's long arm, and he gasped deeply for life-giving oxygen. After several breaths, he started crying and wailing out of escalating fear and confusion. He squirmed repeatedly, finally freeing himself and standing shakily in the hot sand, looking down at his still father.

"Daddy," he said with a soft, wavering voice. "Daddy, get up." Lucky's eyes followed the direction of a sunbeam shining brightly on a growing red spot covering the width of his father's arm and shoulder. Lucky looked around for help, but all he saw was a solitary lizard running through the desert to destinations unknown. He walked over to the well, and pulled the crank as hard as he could, finally accessing a large bucket of water that he struggled to carry over to his prone father. Lucky raised a tethered cup to his father's lips, but he just splashed water over Luke's face. His father appeared to be asleep. Lucky began crying in earnest. He couldn't remember any secret codes or phone numbers that would take care of this problem. He yanked on Luke's other arm repeatedly. "Daddy, get up, Daddy," he pleaded as he scanned the horizon for other approaching Cadillacs.

Sheer terror stabbed Lucky's heart, and he ran to the family automobile, a large ten-year-old Plymouth. He jumped into the front seat and turned the key while pressing on the pedal like his father had shown him. He stood up, not able to reach the floor pedal while seated. All he could think of to do was find Mommy and bring her back quickly to help Daddy. Lucky was so short he couldn't see directly through the windshield to the road, he could only look up into the brilliant blue, cloudless sky. He finally got the shift into drive, and the car took off slowly out the driveway and straight into the gravel road. After Lucky had given the car an initial pump of gas to get it started, he forgot to apply pressure to the gas pedal again, so the car only went about five miles an hour down the road. His small hands steered like Daddy had shown him, only he couldn't see where he was going.

Laura was returning home from the grocery store and stared in wonder as the family car very slowly made its way in a wavering trail down the road with no person behind the wheel. It was like a very old invisible ghost was powering the vehicle. She quickly parked the truck along the side of the road and ran up to the vehicle, opening the passenger door and jumping in when she saw her little munchkin behind the wheel, crying frantically. Laura pushed Lucky aside and maneuvered the car to a stop. "What's wrong, baby? What are you doing?" she asked repeatedly. Lucky was too hysterical to talk, so Laura took control of the car, and placed Lucky in the passenger side. As she neared their house, she could see Luke running around the yard in a crazed frenzy.

Holding a bawling Lucky with a firm hand, she approached Luke. "WHAT in the world is going on here? Our son was heading down the road in our car!" Laura's eyes blazed into her husband. Luke's face softened and fell as his eyes filled with tears at the sight of his son. "Lucky, oh God, Lucky. I thought they took you," he cried. Luke grimaced as he held his bleeding upper arm. "Ow!" he said. "We've got to get out of here, darlin.' Frank's found us again."

"Lucky," said Luke softly as he knelt and held out his arms. "Come here, son. I'm not going anywhere. Daddy is here." Lucky looked over at Luke and ran straight into his daddy's arms. He raised his tear-streaked face. "Daddy, I thought you went away. Don't leave me, Daddy. Please."

"Never," said Luke in a voice choked with emotion. "Your dad will never leave you." ***

"Don't go, dad," Lucky said desperately. "Please don't leave me. Help me. I need you. I'm sorry." He started crying, and felt his heart splinter into many pieces as the hot pain rolled over his existence and blotted him from the universe.

His head felt funny, and he couldn't draw in a deep breath. He coughed repeatedly and placed his hand on his chest. It felt strange, kind of jumpy and heavy at the same time. A wave of tiredness swept over him, and he lay down on his side, his fists clenched tightly but opening slightly as they lost muscle tone. He coughed again, his eyelids closed slowly over his eyes, and his limbs shook and trembled as he fell far away from his fevered thoughts and emotions.

~*~*~*~

Years of nursing instinct made Barb's heart jump when she saw Lucky sprawled out in the corner of his room. She quickly turned and yelled to another nurse, "Call Jim Perkins, immediately, Sarah. We have a medical situation here."

~*~*~*~

Two nurses were kneeling beside Lucky on the floor of his room when Dr. Jim Perkins entered. "His pulse is racing, and he's unconscious," Barb said tensely. "His respirations are rapid and shallow."

"Let's lift him to the bed so I can examine him," instructed Jim. The two nurses took Lucky's arms as Jim lifted his legs, and they scooted over to the bed, placing him down gently. Lucky lay with his head bent slightly to the right side, his hair falling in scattered light brown strands across his neck. Jim bent over Lucky with a stethoscope for several minutes, and his tense face reflected concern. "I need a cardiac consult, stat," he indicated sharply. "Get a gurney in here now. We need to take him to the ER."

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