Devolution TOC

Chapter Sixty-Two

GH resident Dr. Jim Perkins stood impatiently beside the gurney that held Lucky's firmly strapped down, unconscious body. Jim pushed the elevator button for the first floor, and waited for the elevator to move. He glanced up at the lighted numbers and watched them count down until the elevator reached the first floor. The doors opened, and he swiftly wheeled the gurney toward the ER.

When an ER nurse approached him for information, he quickly stated, "This is a patient from the psychiatric unit. I'm a resident, Dr. Jim Perkins. The patient has experienced positive loss of consciousness for at least 15 minutes; he's in tachycardia, with cardiac dysrhythmia and is hypotensive. He's medicated with an anti-psychotic, sedative and an anti-depressant. And please call Dr. Kevin Collins right away. This is his patient, Lucky Spencer."

Jim wheeled Lucky into ER1 and was promptly joined by Dr. Ian Thornhart who frowned and exclaimed, "Bloody hell!" when he saw the patient lying on the gurney. "He's back in my ER."

"You know this patient?" asked Jim.

"Yes," replied Ian. "He was brought in a couple of months ago in respiratory arrest with pneumonia. And, he was back in a few weeks later with an overdose from his antidepressant. I didn't realize he was in the General Hospital psychiatric ward."

"He tried to commit suicide and then was catatonic for two weeks," explained Jim. "He's been psychotic since he woke up."
"Ever dramatic, that's our Mr. Spencer," said Ian wryly as he examined Lucky. "So, what's your name?" he asked Jim. "You're a GH resident?"

"Yes, my name is Jim Perkins," answered Jim. "I'm working in the psychiatric department right now. I'm considering psychiatry as a specialty."

"A head doctor, then," laughed Ian. "You're aspiring to be a Kevin Collins."

"Well, yes, that would be nice," said Jim. "He's a great psychiatrist."

"Agreed," said Ian. "You did well in bringing Mr. Spencer to the ER right away. Good job," he added. "Would you print off a copy of Lucky Spencer's medications?" he asked Jim. "His BP is very low in addition to the tachycardia. I think he's having a bad reaction to a neuroleptic."

"Sure," replied Jim as he walked off to find a computer.
Ian turned to the nurse. "I need a CBC, blood cultures, LFT, BUN and creatinine, CPK, urine myoglobin, calcium and phosphate levels, and an ABG. And have an ICU set up."

~*~*~*~

Lucky woke up to the flurry of ER activity around him. As the noises, voices, lights and motions began filtering through his brain, he grew wary. Lucky kept his eyes closed tightly as he tried to assess his situation and determine a plan of action, Spencer style.

~*~*~*~

There was a brief minute when Ian Thornhart was in the hallway talking to Jim Perkins about Lucky's meds and the nurse left to order the lab tests. Lucky sat slowly up on the exam table and gripped his hands firmly on the table's edge. He felt very dizzy and light-headed with his body swaying to one side in response to his disorientation. His heart was pounding very fast in his chest as his bare feet hit the cold linoleum floor, and his toes firmly gripped the surface to ground himself.

Lucky's posture was bent down with his long hair hanging in his face, and his hands held onto a porcelain sink with determined white knuckles as he carefully edged his way along the room in search of an escape. He peeked out of the light tan striped curtain that separated the room from one end of the hallway and spotted the red Exit sign several yards away. He turned his head to the left and saw no one. When he turned his head to the right, he saw Ian and Jim talking and leaning over a computer printout, but their backs were turned away from him.

Lucky took full advantage of the slice in time where no attention was focused in his direction and moved swiftly toward the Exit sign. His cat-like movements drew no notice, and when he solidly hit the metal bar on the door with his hands, he was rewarded with a swift rush of fresh air blasting him in the face and sending his hair flowing back onto his shoulders.

~*~*~*~

Emily was seated on the couch in the Quartermaine family room, channel surfing in a bored, detached manner while sipping on a Diet Coke. She looked up as Alan and Monica entered the room, and thought, Uh-oh, I've seen that look on their faces before. It's "Emily, we have something we'd like to discuss with you" time. Emily laid down the remote and looked worriedly at her parents.

When Alan said brightly, "Hi, Emily. How are you?" she cringed and slid further down into her seat with a defensive frown and had a death grip on her can of Diet Coke.

"Emily, there's something we'd like to discuss with you," said Monica as she sat down in the chair next to her daughter. Oh, no here it comes, hold on tight, thought Emily. Alan sat next to Emily on the couch, and she looked back and forth from Alan to Monica, waiting for the inevitable fight.

"We're so proud of you Emily," said Alan. "You received such high SAT scores. You've really been studying hard, and we love the way you've turned out since coming home from France. AND? thought Emily in a smart-ass moment.

"Honey, we'd like to talk to you about your plans for college," said Monica with a small smile. "With your excellent grades and test scores, you must be excited about selecting a university."

"Actually…" stated Emily nervously.

Alan reached into his briefcase and pulled out what looked like a mountain of glossy folders and brochures. "Emily," he said, interrupting his daughter's train of thought. "I took the liberty of sending away for information from the best schools in the country. There are brochures for Harvard, Rutgers, Columbia, Vanderbilt and many others."

"I'm not going away to a university," Emily spit out flatly. She immediately looked terrified after she realized what she'd done. "I mean…"

"What?" yelled Alan with a red face. "You're not planning on a college education?"

"Emily," Monica interjected. "What do you mean? You've made plans without consulting us?" Monica frowned and looked worried as she glanced over at a fuming Alan. "I know you enjoy cutting hair, but certainly you don't plan on going to cosmetology school," she said with a sick look on her face. "We talked about that last year. You agreed with me that a university education is best for a girl with your talent."

"I don't believe you two!" cried Emily as the tears built up in her eyes and spilled freely down her cheeks. "You're not even listening to me. You won't let me talk."

"We're listening, Emily," Alan said. "Let's hear it."

Emily shook her head and looked sad and angry as she crossed her arms and pouted. "I've already applied and been accepted to PCU," she said. "That's where I'm going! And, NO, I'm not going to cosmetology school, not that I would insult someone who picked that career choice!"

"Emily, you have such good grades and test scores. Surely, you want to take advantage of your success," said Alan firmly. "You need to think of your potential career. Schools mean a lot to employers. You're better than PCU."

"NO!" shouted Emily through her tears. Her shaky hand reached for the Diet Coke can, and she took a sip of the warm beverage, then made a face and looked at the can. "I said I was going to PCU, and that's final." Emily glared at Alan and gritted her teeth.

"Emily, surely you're not making college choices based on Lucky are you?" questioned Monica. "He's not stable enough to base your life on. You have to think of yourself, honey, and make solid plans for your future."

"How dare you!" Emily protested. "How dare you! The last time I counted, we had at least one alcoholic and two ex-drug addicts in this house. Who are you to judge anyone?" Emily glared and looked Alan straight in the eyes, daring him to refute her comment.

"Emily, you've made it clear that you don't respect or feel the need to consult with us. Are you expecting us to financially support any plans you make?" asked Alan. He threw the brochures onto the couch beside Emily. "I suggest that you read through these," he said as he stood up and looked down at his daughter.

Emily jumped up from the couch and backed away from her parents as she looked at them in disbelief. "So you're going to hold money over my head and try to control me?" she asked in a tear-choked voice. "FINE! I'll work at McDonald's and live in a room over Kelly's!" she screamed as she ran from the room.

"Emily!" shouted Monica. "Great, Alan, you had to open your big mouth and ruin everything," she admonished her husband.

"You're the one who lets our daughter run wild and date Spencer lunatics," Alan hissed. "I told you no good would come from that. But, do you ever listen to me? No."

Monica placed her hands on her hips and shot a disgusted look at Alan as she shook her head.

~*~*~*~

Emily ran up the stairs, threw her bedroom door open, and slammed it hard enough to knock the alarm clock off of her nightstand. She flung herself onto the bed and sobbed endlessly, reaching for a tissue and blowing her nose several times as it filled up repeatedly. She cried so long and hard that she started to feel sick to her stomach, and her head felt hot and stuffy like it would explode. Her hands clung to her pillow as sad thoughts ran through her mind.

Emily hadn't seen Lucky in over a month, and every day was torture for her. She longed for his wide smile and silly sense of humor, his tickling fetish and soft, warm kisses. One time they'd fallen asleep on the couch wrapped in each other's arms and oblivious to the ticking clock that marked the time of Emily's impending curfew. Lucky had jerked awake and shouted "Oh no!" when he saw that there were only fifteen minutes left. He'd jumped up and hopped around Tony's house desperately trying to find his other hiking boot. Emily had stood there laughing at the sight of Lucky. They'd arrived one minute before her curfew was up and kissed that minute away on the front porch.

Emily sat up and sadly wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She slumped over and her hands grasped and released the edge of her comforter. She wasn't allowed to visit Lucky, and Bobbie only gave her bits and pieces of information. At one point, Emily was afraid that Lucky was dying and no one would tell her. She reached for another tissue and blew her nose for the twelfth time.

They told her he was sick, he was depressed and couldn't write letters or make phone calls. Did he care about her anymore? Did he remember her or want to see her? She wasn't sure, and it was eating her up. She knew that she could help him and cheer him up if only they'd let her. She still loved him so much, but it was breaking her heart. Emily fell back on the bed and started sobbing again as her right hand tightly gripped the silver necklace with the half heart pendant.

~*~*~*~

"Lesley Lu?" asked Nikolas excitedly as he walked into the brownstone living room carrying a brightly wrapped package. Lulu looked up from the board game she was playing with Lucas, and her eyes lit up. She raced over to Nikolas, who dropped the package on the floor and bent down on one knee to hug his baby sister. Nikolas' eyes welled up with happy tears as the love and gratitude that he felt invaded his chest and took over his body.

Brother and sister parted, and Lulu reached out a small hand and wiped away a stray tear that trailed down Nikolas' cheek.

"Nikky," she said. "Why are you sad?"

Nikolas took Lulu's hand and kissed it, then broadly smiled. "Those are happy tears, Lulu. I'm so happy to see you. It's been a long time. I'm surprised you remember me," he added softly as his warm brown eyes met Lulu's brilliant blue ones.

"I love you, Nikky," Lulu said happily. "I missed you. You used to play with me and read me stories. I prayed to God every night that I would see you again."

Nikolas choked up again and wiped away another tear. "I'm glad you did, because he heard you," he replied. "How's my favorite girl? Did you like the airplane ride?"

"It was okay," said Lulu. "The lady sat beside me and played games with me. It didn't take long to come here."

Nikolas reached for the brightly wrapped package that he'd brought with him and handed it to Lulu. "This is for you, Lulu-bell," he said brightly. Nikolas had spent almost an hour in the toy store, confused by all of the selections, until a helpful saleswoman pointed out the most popular toys for six year old girls.

Lulu carefully unwrapped the gift, folding the paper neatly. Her face lit up when she saw that it was a doll from a recent animated movie. "Oh, thank you," she said happily with eyes shining as she hugged Nikolas. "I love it!"
Lulu held the doll for a minute, then said, "Nikolas, I have to finish my game with Lucas. He can't wait a long time," she said firmly.

Nikolas laughed. "Okay, little sister. Finish your game and we'll talk over supper." Lulu grinned and ran back over to Lucas. "Okay, Nikky," she said, her wide smile revealing the one bottom tooth that was missing.

Nikolas walked over to Bobbie who was setting the table. "Can I help?" he asked politely. "Here," she said, "You can lay out the silverware while I check on dinner." Nikolas set the table, then walked into the kitchen, leaning on the doorway. "Thanks for letting me come tonight, Bobbie. I appreciate it. Lulu looks great. I missed her so much."

Bobbie nodded as she stirred the boiling spaghetti water, than laid the large black spoon onto the stovetop and placed a potholder on top of it. "We all missed her a lot," she agreed.

"Um, what does she know about Lucky?"

Bobbie shook her head. "Well, at first, she thought Lucky was in jail with his dad. That's what Laura had been telling her." Nikolas blushed furiously and looked at the floor with a stony face. "But, we told her that Lucky was in Port Charles. He got sick and had to go to the hospital where he may be for a long time until he gets better. We've tried to be truthful but general. Kevin believes it's better if she isn't told the details. That's also what we're telling Lucas - just the general facts. Tony and I only discuss Lucky's full situation when we're in another room behind closed doors."

Bobbie walked over to Nikolas and drew him into a big hug as she stroked his hair. Nikolas had forgotten how good it felt to be hugged by an older woman, and he relaxed in Bobbie's arms as he remembered how much he'd liked living with her when she was married to his uncle. When they separated from their hug, Nikolas looked at Bobbie with a sad and vulnerable face that looked younger than his twenty-one years.

"Nikolas, I'm sorry about Laura, Lucky and Stefan," she said quietly. "I know how much you love them." Nikolas looked at Bobbie gratefully and gave her a small smile.

~*~*~*~

Lucky's bare feet didn't register the burning cold moisture of the recent snowfall as he ran from General Hospital. He was too busy gulping in the fresh air and relishing the cold rushing over his face. It was only below freezing outside, and the setting winter sun shone weakly through the haze of gray clouds. Lucky ran wildly with arms open to the wind, clad only in a thin regulation hospital gown and a wide grin. He'd escaped! He made it. The emotional joy of his release washed over him repeatedly.

Lucky quickly crossed the parking lot and headed for the stand of trees that he spotted in the distance. He ran quickly, ignoring the freezing pain in his lungs as he drew in deep breaths. His chest and head felt strange, and the trees dipped to the side as his vision wavered. He fell hard on his left side, immersed in a large pile of snow that rimmed the incline up from the parking lot. He used his firm plaster cast to push himself from the ground, and he took off again, determined to reach those trees and his freedom.

Finally! He was running over the snowy grass that marked the perimeter of a park-like area near the hospital. He laughed joyfully and loudly as he neared the trees. His right knee buckled, and he staggered, but recovered and kept running a ragged path toward his intended destination.

When he reached the ring of trees, he saw the circular, concrete fountain with its water turned off for the winter and the wooden benches that circled the garden feature. He stood still for a moment, taking in rapid breaths and coughing while he looked around him. A wave of tiredness overcame him, and he walked slowly and haltingly toward a park bench. He sat down hard, just for a minute, he promised himself, not noticing that his bare bottom was seated on cold snow. He leaned his head back on the bench with a loud sigh, and his long hair swished though the accumulated snow.

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