Chapter Ninety-Eight
"That's mighty quick work, Bobbie, thank you." Kevin patted the folder on top of his desk and smiled. "Are you sure you don't want to transfer to my department?"
Bobbie laughed and shook her head. "I had to do some fancy detective work, but I wanted you to have Lucky's records as soon as possible in case there was something important in them. We had the approximate date, Lucky's age and sex to work with. Mercy's psychiatric facilities are not large, so it didn't take long to narrow the records down to a young man named Lucas. Laura wasn't too creative. She used the last name Jones and no middle name for Lucky."
Tony was seated beside Bobbie, and he made a disgusted sound. "What is wrong with that woman?" he asked. "She's a walking disaster area."
"I was able to reach Luke and talk to him briefly," stated Kevin as he leaned back in his chair and crossed a leg. A pensive look crossed Kevin's face, and he tapped his fingers together. "He basically confirms what Lucky remembered under hypnosis. The boy was acting strangely upon his return home. His mother was concerned about her son's behavior being made public. Luke wasn't aware of the ramifications of this information concerning Lucky's current state of mind or his treatment, so he never brought it up again. Lucky's psychological disorders and medications - legal and illegal - prevented him from remembering the incidents."
"Kevin, what does all of this mean?" asked Bobbie worriedly. "Lucky is improving, right?"
"Yes, he has improved dramatically, especially in the last week. He's thinking clearly and able to control his behavior and mood. I was impressed with how well he handled his hypnosis this morning."
Tony tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair. "What is it that you're not telling us, Kevin?" he asked with a nervous edge to his voice. "Why is this early hospitalization so important?"
Kevin opened up the file folder and rifled through some papers. "I don't have a simple answer for you, Tony. I wanted to see what his initial diagnosis was after his immediate return from the kidnapping. As you know, Lucky's exact diagnosis here at General Hospital has been difficult to establish because of the wide variety of symptoms he's displayed over a period of time. To some extent, we would stabilize one symptom, depression, for example, and then be faced with more substance abuse, buried memories or psychosis. Any additional data helps to establish more of a pattern and history for him."
Kevin's intense gaze met Bobbie and Tony's worried faces. "I've been very concerned about Lucky's propensity for psychosis under times of stress, and now we find that he had an initial psychotic episode many months before he interacted with the medical system again. His aborted treatment was unfortunate because it probably altered his brain chemistry in a permanent way, making him more susceptible to repeated psychotic episodes. To date, he's been psychotic at least four times within an eighteen month time period, which is very serious."
Kevin paused. "Frankly, he's displayed symptoms of a schizophrenic disorder - disorganized thought processes, social withdrawal, catatonia, hallucinations, inappropriate affect." Kevin raised his hand to halt any comments from Tony or Bobbie. "But, he doesn't meet enough of the standard diagnostic criteria for schizophrenia per se. Sometimes very serious mood disorders, such as depression in Lucky's case, combine with some symptoms of schizophrenia. In his case, the diagnosis is termed schizoaffective disorder. Lucky's co-morbid substance abuse was a desperate attempt to regulate his mood and thoughts. I think he never completely pulled out of his initial psychosis. That, coupled with his dissociation problems and lack of familial support, means that he was not firm in reality while living on his own and when he was homeless."
"He didn't have a chance at a normal life," Tony interjected.
"Not really," Kevin agreed. "It's unfortunate that he slipped through the system so quickly and needlessly."
"What does this mean in terms of Lucky living in our home?" asked Bobbie.
"I still plan to release him to a day facility next week," Kevin said. "His ability to apply stress reduction techniques is key here, and a day facility will concentrate on teaching him those skills. You'll need to be aware of symptoms that may indicate Lucky is heading for psychosis again. It is possible that he may experience a reoccurrence in the future. I'll give you some materials to take home and read so you can be prepared to monitor his behavior. Mainly, I wanted to talk to you and Tony today about Lucky's return home and what to expect."
Bobbie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "You're making me worried, Kevin." Tony reached over and squeezed Bobbie's hand for reassurance.
Kevin shook his head. "No need to worry. This is standard procedure to discuss the return of a hospitalized patient to the home. In Lucky's case, I wanted to talk to you about age appropriate guidelines. Lucky's chronological age is nineteen - a young man. Realistically, his mental and emotional age is fifteen or sixteen, however. You'll have to walk a fine line in terms of restricting his activities. He's a very independent young man, but he still needs the guidance that he didn't receive in order to successfully move through the developmental stages that he missed out on. So, you'll have to expect that a teenager with all of the hassles associated will be moving into your home soon. I do believe that he'll progress to his true age within a year if he's kept safe, in therapy and on his medications.
Realize that you'll need to establish and enforce curfews, remind him about safe sex, and not leave him alone for any significant period of time. He's not going to be able to be as responsible as the average nineteen-year-old so make sure that you know where he is and who he is with at all times. Be easy on him about that. He's not able to be independent yet even though he wants to be. Support him emotionally as much as you can - be there for questions, hugs, and advice. Don't be surprised if he has the occasional mood swing. What I want you to be on the lookout for are the early signs of psychosis. For example, if he expresses feelings of unreality, displays peculiar behavior, changes how he expresses his feelings, begins speaking or acting in ways that are bizarre or hard to follow. If we catch any relapses early on, we can avoid hospitalization. That's our goal - to have him out and functional in the world."
Tony chewed on his lower lip as his eyes brimmed with tears. "Is Lucky going to make it, Kevin? Will he be able to be happy and successful?"
Kevin smiled and closed Lucky's folder. "I believe so, Tony. It doesn't mean that he won't experience relapses - that's entirely possible given the nature of his illness. He'll be on medication to try to prevent that. But, he's worked hard to recover, and he has gained a lot of ground. He also has one of the strongest support systems that I've had the pleasure to work with. You and Bobbie are directly responsible for saving his life. I want you to know that."
~*~*~*~
Lucky and Emily held hands and strolled in the picnic area next to General Hospital. Lucky sat down hard on a wooden bench near a bubbling water fountain. He laughed bitterly.
"What?" Emily asked quizzically.
Lucky shook his head and grimaced as he dug his heel into a hole in the cement. "Last time I was here, it was freezing and I had was sitting with my bare behind in a pile of snow," he explained.
Emily looked confused. "What are you talking about?"
Lucky's face colored briefly as he recalled his near escape attempt. "I ran away from the hospital back in the wintertime. They had to go and find me. I ran out here in nothing but a hospital gown and ended up sitting on this bench, unable to go any further."
"That sounds serious," Emily commented with a frown.
"Whatever," Lucky replied. He looked over at Emily's purse. "Did you buy the stuff I asked you to? I'll pay you back when I get out of here."
Emily opened the metal clasp on her purse and pulled out a small bag. "I wasn't very comfortable buying this," she said with hesitation. "Are you sure you're allowed to have it - with your medications that is." She looked concerned when she handed him the bag. "I'm worried about you. I want you to be healthy."
Lucky ignored her and looked inside the bag with a smile. "Cool. You remembered the brand I asked for."
"What if I don't like it that you smoke?" asked Emily. "I don't like to kiss people who taste like an ashtray. Besides, it's unhealthy. Secondhand smoke kills."
Lucky set down the package and moved in closer to Emily, his warm thigh rubbing next to hers. "I have a solution," he stated playfully. "I'll do it on my own time, and you can have all of me before I smoke." Lucky bent in and captured Emily's mouth with full, insistent lips as his arms drew her body close to his. Lucky ran his hands over Emily's hair, luxuriating in its long, smooth length. His lips parted hers, and he ran his tongue over hers roughly, enjoying the smooth sensations.
Emily noticed the muscular feel of Lucky's strong shoulders, and she ran her hands up and down his back as Lucky lowered her onto the wooden bench. The couple came up for air for one brief second, but Lucky quickly kissed Emily again as his hands ran up under her shirt. When he began rhythmically rubbing himself against her, Emily tried to sit up in protest, but he continued to lie on top of her. Finally, she pushed hard against the weight of Lucky's body, and he stopped.
"What's wrong?" he asked her. Emily sat up and straightened her clothing. "What do you think?" she asked sarcastically. "We're out in public, you know." She shook her head. "Sometimes you remind me of Juan," she added. "We've hardly even talked, and you're flattening me against a bench, humping on me." Emily's fingers played with the heart necklace that Lucky had bought her for Christmas, and she wore a hurt look on her face.
"What the hell?" Lucky said angrily. "How dare you compare me to that prick! I love you. All he wanted to do was get into your pants. I just want to be with you. Is that a crime?"
"And what were you just trying to do?" countered Emily with a raised eyebrow. "Besides get into my pants, that is."
Lucky crossed his arms. "I thought you wanted to be with me."
"I do. But let's take it slower, okay? I don't want to have you lying on top of me on a public park bench."
Lucky's face set and turned red. "Where do you want to be together, then?" he asked. "Back on the psych ward with some goon watching us? Maybe you should find somebody else to be with. Someone who's normal and not locked up. Someone who can drive a car and buy you things and take you places. Get rid of the loser!" Lucky jumped up from the bench with the bag in his hand. He walked toward the woods that bordered the park.
Emily stood up and watched Lucky. She heard him exclaim, "Shit!" in a loud voice as he struggled to release the pack of cigarettes from their protective plastic wrapping. Finally, Lucky ripped open the package and drew out a cigarette. He lit it with the matches provided in the bag and moaned with relief as the thick smoke settled into his lungs. He slowly blew out a smoky trail through his nose. Lucky repeatedly drew on the cigarette. "Ah, fuck," he muttered to himself. He threw down the used butt and stamped it with his foot.
Emily walked up behind Lucky as he hungrily smoked his fifth cigarette. He jumped and turned around when he felt her gentle hand touching his shoulder. His pained blue eyes looked into hers as the cigarette hung from his mouth with a long ash waving in the wind.
Emily ran her hand up and down his arm. "I love you even if you smoke," she said. But I'd rather have you healthy." Emily looked down at the ground and then met Lucky's eyes again. "I know you just wanted to be with me," she said softly. "It's been hard on both of us, your illness. There've been a lot of times that I just wanted to hug and kiss you, and you weren't there. I know it's not your fault, though."
"Elizabeth and I -" Lucky strangled out with the cigarette bobbing in his lips. "We waited, and then it was too late." He turned away from Emily with slumped shoulders and his head hanging down. Lucky nervously ran his fingers repeatedly though his short hair. "Are you going to leave me, too?" he asked softly. "Are you going to say you don't love me anymore and go off to join some sorority?" The tears pooled in Lucky's eyes as he considered the possibility. He sniffed and threw his cigarette to the ground.
Emily's lips twitched when Lucky's words struck her as funny. "No, you won't lose me to a sorority," she said. Emily turned Lucky around and drew him into a hug. Lucky wrapped his arms around her and hung on for life. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said over and over.
~*~*~*~
Lucky paced around and around the recreation room, drawing the attention of John, who was assigned to him for the next two hours. When John approached him, Lucky glanced at him out of the sides of his eyes, but didn't speak up or acknowledge his presence. The next time Lucky circled around the psych tech, John said, "What's up, Lucky? You seem tense after your outing."
Lucky shrugged and kept moving. "Nothing," he called back over his shoulder.
"So how many cigarettes did you have when you were outside?" John asked. "From the way you smell, I'd say half a pack?"
Lucky stopped and glared at the man. "Something like that," he spat out. John leaned against a table and said, "Nicotine is a stimulant. You're probably feeling hyper after smoking so much. You might want to watch out that you don't overdo it next time."
"Is there a law against walking?" Lucky asked smartly.
"No," John laughed. "But you know how it is on these locked wards. If you act agitated, you draw attention. So why don't you sit down and tell me why you wanted to smoke so much?"
Lucky sighed in exasperation and plopped down in a chair. He ran his hands through his hair so many times that it looked disheveled. "I like to smoke, and I can't do it in the hospital," he began. "So I smoke when I get a chance to go outside. Kevin doesn't want me to smoke because he says it's a trigger or something, but hell, I can't drink or do anything else, so whatever. I want to do it. I'm over eighteen - it's legal. Nobody gets pulled over for smoking and driving."
"Are you smoking to relieve anxiety from your session this morning?" questioned John.
Lucky's face turned red as he realized that he was basically caught in the act. "Maybe," he admitted. His eyes darkened. "But I still like to do it regardless of the reason."
"Is there something else that you could do to relieve the tension?"
"At first, after I had hypnosis, I felt like running," stated Lucky. "But now that would really get me in trouble in here. Ha." Lucky laughed and shook his head. "I used to like to lift weights, back when I was living on the outside," he added, his eyes losing focus as he remembered the time that he lived with Tony.
"Well, there you go," said John. "You just named two positive, healthy ways to relieve stress. Remember that for when you leave next week."
Lucky nodded. "What do you do when you're stressing?" he asked seriously.
"I like to play basketball with my kids," said John. "And like you mentioned, I work out at the gym. Physical activity helps a lot."
"Okay," said Lucky. "I'll try to lay off the smoking."
~*~*~*~
"I've never raised a teenager before, unless you count the few weeks that Lucky stayed with me," mentioned Tony as he moved the twin bed against the wall. Tony and Bobbie were fixing up a room for Lucky in the Victorian house that they'd recently bought and moved into.
"BJ would be a teenager now, but so far, I've only raised Lucas, and he's nine years old." Bobbie nodded as she clapped her hands together to remove the dust from them. "Lucky is good practice for Lucas and Lulu," she stated. "I think it'll all be uphill from here."
Tony sat on the edge of the bed and replied, "You've got that right. What a year this has been."
Bobbie sat down beside Tony and kissed him lightly on the lips. "But we found each other again," she reminded him. "It hasn't been all bad. In fact, I'm rather grateful to Lucky for bringing us back together. He was quite a little matchmaker."
Tony laughed. "And how. He was always making these little comments and suggestions when he lived with me. Call Bobbie about this or visit the Brownstone for some reason."
Bobbie stood and picked up a framed Arizona poster. "Help me decide where to place these posters," she said. "I want Lucky to feel right at home when he moves in. We'll have this room looking very inviting and homey. You did a great job at your old house, Tony. You have a real eye for color."
Tony sidled up behind Bobbie and placed his hands around her waist as he whispered in her ear. "Especially for red," he said.
Bobbie laughed and playfully swatted at him. "Have you asked Lucky to be your best man yet?"
Tony made up the twin bed, laying out sheets on top of it. "Not yet," he said. "I wanted him to see his father first. I don't want to spring too much on him at one time. I'll suggest that we find him a nice suit this weekend." Tony looked over at Bobbie. "You're not disappointed that we're getting married at the courthouse, are you?"
Bobbie shook her head. "No, Tony. You know, I feel like we're still married. Neither one of us remarried after our divorce. It's like we're finally back together again after a long absence. This wedding is a formality, really."
"I'm glad you feel that way," said Tony. "Do you have any concerns after talking to Kevin this morning? You seemed rather nervous."
"Well, I did feel like I was thrown for a loop when he mentioned schizophrenia. That's a major, chronic mental illness. Thank goodness he only has a related disorder. I want Lucky to fully recover and regain his life. I want the nephew back that I remember. But, I know after everything that's happened - the kidnapping, his parents' imprisonment - he's different, permanently changed." Bobbie sighed as her eyes saddened. "But, I'll love him no matter what. You know, Tony, I wish that Luke would have dropped him off at the Brownstone soon after he returned. He didn't need to be around his parents' constant fighting. It was good for Lulu to be away, but I suppose they didn't want to burden me. I think that's why he moved out of their house and really started in on the booze. He couldn't handle the constant tension."
~*~*~*~
Lucky sat up in bed, the covers wrapped around his knees and his back up against the headboard. The overhead light shone brightly, and his eyes were wide and open.
"It's late," said Rick. "Why don't I turn off this light so you can get some sleep."
"No," said Lucky firmly, but without explanation.
"Are you saying that you can't sleep or that you don't want to?" asked Rick for clarification.
"Both," Lucky replied. He sighed deeply and rested his chin on his knees. "Don't turn off the light," he added tensely.
"Is there something about the dark that bothers you?"
"Yes," stated Lucky. He turned his face away from Rick.
"Why don't you talk to me about it so we can help you out," suggested Rick.
"It won't make any difference to talk about it," Lucky said loudly. "It won't change anything."
"What won't it change?"
"He's still out there, he can come back at any time. I don't want to be a sitting duck," said Lucky.
"I don't understand," replied Rick. "Tell me about it."
"During my hypnosis today, I found out who…who…um, was responsible for my kidnapping. He hired this crazy guy who kidnapped me and tortured me. Faison, he's still out there. He threatened me - if I told. I did and now he's going to come back for me while I'm sleeping. That's what he did last time, and they all believed I was dead. No one looked for me while I was dying in that compound. He's always threatening me. I…I have to watch out for myself!" Lucky's voice rose to a higher, more desperate pitch. "They chloroformed me, and I never saw Port Charles again, not for over a year. I spent a year in a tiny metal cell, and they hurt me. They hurt me so bad I'm never going to be the same again. They killed me, stole away my life - all to get back at my father. Now he's in jail, and he can't help me. I'm afraid." Lucky's lips quivered, and his eyes grew teary. "I'm so afraid," he repeated as he huddled within himself as best he could and trembled.
"I'm sorry for everything that you went through," said Rick. "Here's what we can do. I'm assigned to be with you throughout the night. My shift ends in the morning. So why don't I bring you a sleeping pill to help you fall asleep. Then, I'll bring a small lamp in here so I can read while I stay with you. It'll be dark enough for you to sleep, but there will be some light so you can see if you wake up. I'll be sitting here the whole night except for two breaks when someone else will sit in for me. And, no, I don't think anyone can sneak up on me," Rick stated as he flexed his biceps for emphasis and chuckled.
Lucky looked at Rick's full six feet two inches of height and large muscle-filled frame. He gave Rick a shaky smile, and said, "Okay, I'll try to sleep if you promise to pay extra attention so no one can creep in here."
"That's my man," said Rick approvingly. "Be back in a flash."
.