Chapter Thirty-One
"Come closer," Frankie ordered, his purposeful gaze never leaving Johnny. "I gotta tell you how it’s gonna go down. But it’s top secret."
Johnny scooted his chair closer to Frankie’s bedside and placed his hand on Frankie’s arm. "What’s the situation, boss?" he asked as his eyes met Frankie’s.
Frankie’s face screwed up in pain, and he placed a hand on his side as he closed his eyes momentarily. "Frank, he spent his life making dat organization. I’m not gonna let Caruso wannabes take over." Frankie’s eyes saddened and filled with tears. "He may not be my real dad, but he was my dad, ya know? And he wanted me to have da organization. But, I got other ideas."
Frankie paused as he coughed and reached for his morphine dispenser. "Dis ain’t pretty," he said to Johnny. "At least I was in da coma last time. Dis is worse." He stopped talking and panted for a minute as his eyes looked up toward the ceiling.
"Hey, Frankie, do you want your oxygen mask?" Johnny suggested.
Frankie shook his head. "I gotta continue, get dis out now in case, um, in case I can’t later." His voice was low, just above a whisper, and his hand curled around his blanket, squeezing it hard to ride out a wave of intense pain. His forehead was dotted with perspiration. "Frank’s business, it’s not all illegal," Frankie continued. "It’s about half and half. I got an idea yesterday. Dis lady, she’s my real mother I guess. She’s married to Stefan Cassadine. You hearda him?"
Johnny shook his head. "No, can’t say that I have."
Frankie smiled as his eyes took on a faraway look filled with remembrance. "Frank thought he was brilliant. He used to talk about him all da time. We even studied some of his business tactics. Dis Cassadine, he is leader of dis huge Empire, and it was a mess when he inherited it. He turned it around all legal-like. Da Empire was like da mob with da killings and threats. Crazy people and worse dan da mob actually – dey killed more people dan Frank for sure. Lotsa dirty money. But now it’s all shiny and clean. Dat Stefan, he did it. And I want him to help me do dat with da Smith organization. We keep da legit and maybe sell or shut down da illegal? I got my mind on dat Corinthos. I got rid of Sorel for him, right? So maybe he wants some of my business. I can sell it and make money. He owes me."
"Um, boss, you were on a mission to destroy him. Remember?" Johnny reminded.
"Prove it," said Frankie as he jutted out his chin. "If Corinthos don’t want it, I’ll find me another buyer. It’s in his best interests to take over da illegal. But da legal? It’s mine. I want to be da CEO like dat Stefan."
"Have you met the man?"
Frankie shook his head. "Nah. I haven’t seen him. But dat Luke, he says my mother is going to visit me in da afternoon. I’ll ask her then, all casual-like." Frankie raised his eyebrows and giggled.
"What do you think about all of this – your instant family?" Johnny questioned. "You’ve never had a mother before."
Frankie’s face fell. "I don’t know," he whispered. "It feels weird. Dey don’t know me so why act like dey like me? I don’t know what dey want. Makes me nervous."
Johnny took Frankie’s hand. "They want to get to know you, that’s all. They love you because you’re family."
Frankie averted his eyes from Johnny and shook his head. "I don’t understand," he said sadly.
"You’re not used to having a family," Johnny explained. "Family is nice, a good thing. Family members help each other if there are crises like you being in the hospital, or they celebrate good times – birthdays for example."
"What if I don’t want ‘em?" Frankie asked seriously as his tense blue eyes sought Johnny’s face for explanation.
"You’re stuck," Johnny laughed. "You can’t choose your family. You have one just because you’re born."
"I want to kill Nikolas," Frankie said dangerously. "He’s da first one."
"Who is Nikolas?" asked Johnny.
"My brother – dey say," Frankie exclaimed sarcastically. "He thinks he’s hot shit cause he’s big and tall, but haha, my gun, it’s big. BANG!" Frankie laughed maniacally and pretended to aim his imaginary pistol at his brother’s head. "Right between dose beady eyes."
Johnny shook his head. "No, Frankie. You can’t kill your brother. You have to find a way to avoid him or get along with him. Killing is not an option."
Frankie’s face set with disappointment, and he crossed his arms. "How ‘bout disability den? I can have dem break his legs."
"No death or disability for the relatives," Johnny stated firmly. "Besides, what will Stefan think if you kill or hurt his son? Would he want to help you then?"
Frankie’s face looked puzzled as the wheels turned in his head. "Dammit!" he gritted out. "Dammit. He wouldn’t like dat. Shit." Frankie blinked rapidly. "Dat Stefan is smart. How could he have dat idiot for a son?"
"Why don’t you concentrate on getting well and on finding as many good things as possible in your new family?"
"I like dat Ruby," Frankie stated as he held up one finger. "And Sly is my friend – dat’s two good things." Frankie looked pensive as he rubbed his chin with his other hand. "Dat Luke dude, he’s been around a lot, and he’s been nice to me, dat’s three. You like dat redhead Bobbie and she brought you here, so dere – I have four."
"Very good," Johnny said, nodding with approval. "Keep finding things to add to your nice list."
"So whatta ya think about da plan?" Frankie asked seriously.
Johnny rubbed his lips together as he frowned. "I want to see you out of the business," he stated. "Are you sure you want to reactivate?"
"Yeah," Frankie protested. "I can’t sell da business if it don’t exist. Da competitors, dey’ll pick me off little by little if I don’t get started again. I’ll get rid of it as soon as I can. Okay?"
"I’m still not comfortable with this," Johnny said. "I don’t want any of Caruso’s gang to find you – or the Feds. This leaves you more vulnerable to attack. They’re going to be upset when they see that the business is continuing. They’ll know for sure that you’re alive."
Frankie shrugged and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Gimme another gun den," he said nonchalantly. "Dat Luke dude stole ‘em all away and hid ‘em. And bring me back da beer after you’re done with New York City," he ordered imperially.
"New paradigm, my man," Johnny said, stretching his legs out from the chair and placing his laced fingers behind his head. "If you want me to help you achieve your plan, then I don’t give you firearms or booze. You depend on me to take care of things. I’m trying to protect you. I don’t want you to get hurt. No guns or booze in or out of the hospital."
Farnkie’s face reflected his displeasure. "Nurse Johnny," he said snottily.
"Tough break, Frankie," Johnny replied. "Now give me the account numbers, and behave yourself. Put that oxygen mask back on."
~*~*~*~
"Do you want me to speak to Corinthos? I could do a preliminary search to determine if he’s interested," Johnny stated.
"Yeah, okay," Frankie said breathlessly. His head was now turned on his pillow with his face sunk into the soft surface. He hadn’t moved at all in the last ten minutes, exhausted by talking and planning. His side and leg were aching badly, but he didn’t have the strength to move his hand toward the medicine dispenser. His glassy eyes stared straight ahead at nothing.
"Frankie, rest," Johnny said quietly as he patted the boy’s shoulder. "I’ll be back tomorrow with an update. Okay?"
"‘Kay," Frankie replied sleepily.
Johnny rose from his chair and turned to leave when he was startled by a man’s voice.
"So we finally meet."
Johnny’s green eyes met the intense blue eyes of the tall man who held out a hand. Johnny walked over to Luke, accepted his hand and shook it. "Mr. Spencer?" he asked.
"The one and only," Luke replied as Alexis walked into the room behind him.
"I’m Johnny Callahan," Johnny replied. "It’s nice to meet you." Johnny stood with a hand on one hip, and Luke observed the brown leather of his shoulder holster.
"Barbara Jean is my sister, my baby sister," Luke intoned as his intense eyes never left Johnny’s green ones.
Johnny shifted his feet and changed his stance as he ran a hand over his hair. "Bobbie, yes," he replied. "I’m aware of that."
Alexis watched the interchange and ran an internal monologue of her own. So this is the fabulous Johnny. Bobbie sure has good taste in the looks department. The man’s fine. But I do wonder how all of this is going to work out. Tension alert.
Luke’s eyes shifted away from Johnny and glanced at the bed in front of him. "How’s he doing?"
Johnny watched Luke’s face change from its rigid intensity to an aspect that glowed softly at the prospect of seeing his son. "He’s tired," Johnny stated simply. "I talked him into putting his oxygen mask back on. He doesn’t seem to like it. The nurse yelled at him, too."
Luke’s eyes searched over the man in front of him, and he relaxed slightly. This Johnny seemed to take a parental interest in his son, so maybe he wasn’t all bad. Bobbie had told him about Johnny being there to take care of Frankie after he’d been beaten and hurt, and how the man had tried to comfort and reassure his son. "We should get together and talk about Frankie," Luke stated quietly.
"We can do that," Johnny said. "I’ll be at your sister’s house for awhile, so you can certainly call me there," Johnny said respectfully as he headed for the door. "Have a nice day."
"So polite," Alexis observed as she raised her eyebrows and turned toward Luke.
"Yeah," Luke sighed. "For a killer. Let’s go see my son."
Luke walked over to Frankie carrying a plastic bag in his hand. Alexis joined him by his side. "Hey," Luke said gently. He looked down at his son who was on his side, not asleep, but with his eyes staring vacantly.
Frankie blinked. "Huh?" he said with confusion. "Oh, hi," he added when he noticed that Luke was there. He glanced shyly at Alexis.
"This is Alexis Davis," Luke introduced. "She’s my fiancée. We’re going to be married soon. She’s also your attorney."
Alexis smiled. "Hi Frankie," she said brightly.
Frankie stared at her. "Oh," he said as his eyebrows knit together. "So you gonna keep dem Feds offa my back?" he asked quizzically.
Alexis barely caught herself before she laughed out loud. Oh my God! she thought. He does sound like Jimmy Cagney. Oh my. What a tough little boy. "Yes, I’m your attorney," she confirmed. "My job is to keep everyone off of your back."
Frankie didn’t reply but smiled broadly at her answer.
Luke noticed how sad Frankie seemed and the fact that he hadn’t moved a muscle except for his eyes. "What’s wrong, Frankie?" he asked.
"Don’t feel good," Frankie answered shortly. "Tired."
"Can I help?" Luke asked. "Do you want your medication?"
"Yes," Frankie sighed. Luke reached for the dispensing device and placed it under his son’s hand. Frankie pushed the button for his morphine, and he didn’t move his hand away after he was done. He tensed when a critical care nurse entered the room. When the nurse gently took hold of his shoulder to begin turning him, he shouted. "No! Don’t touch me!"
"What’s wrong?" the nurse asked gently.
"It hurts," Frankie protested tearfully. "Don’t touch me."
"We need to turn you regularly to help you to heal," the nurse explained. "What’s hurting so much?"
"My leg and my side," Frankie responded as he began sobbing. "Don’t move me," he pleaded, in case she hadn’t heard him the first two times.
"He just took some more pain medication," Luke offered helpfully.
The nurse nodded. "Let me turn you onto your other side and take your vitals, and then I’ll look at your leg to make sure it’s okay," she said. Frankie cried as she rolled him over, and Luke’s heart sank as Alexis’ nerves sang out. The nurse moved aside his gown and touched his leg in several places. "I don’t see anything unusual," she said. "Just the same bruising. Perhaps it became sore when you laid on it. We can leave you on that side for a shorter period of time. I’ll mark that on your chart, okay?"
Frankie didn’t respond, and Luke noticed that the boy’s shoulders shook as he still sobbed silently. He must be hard up if he doesn’t care that he’s crying in front of Alexis, Luke thought. After the nurse finished taking his vitals, Luke walked over to the other side of the bed and rubbed Frankie’s back for a minute with a slow, circular motion. "Does that help you feel better?" he asked. Frankie stopped crying and sniffed several times. "Yeah," he agreed morosely.
Luke found a chair and sat down. "Do you feel well enough to see what I bought you in the gift shop?" he asked mischievously. Luke held up the plastic bag and shook it. Something moved inside of the bag and that caught Frankie’s attention as he smiled slowly. "What’s dat?" he asked. "Why don’t you open it and see?" Luke smiled as he placed the bag beside his son’s hands.
Frankie pulled open the bag and stuck his hand in, pulling out a soft, plush blue object. "Cookie Monster!" he shouted happily.
"It’s a puppet," Luke said. "I saw him in the gift shop and couldn’t resist since you said he was your favorite childhood memory."
"I love Cookie Monster," Frankie stated firmly as he plunged his hand into the cavity of the puppet. He moved his wrist back and forth to make it seem as if Cookie were being quizzical. "Cookie?" he asked in the characteristic gruff voice. Frankie plunged the mouth of the puppet onto his other hand. "Dat’s not cookie," he protested as he waved the puppet’s head back and forth in denial. Luke laughed and smiled, happy that his gift was a hit. Alexis watched the father and son interact and reflected that Luke had already established a good bond with the child. It’s positively odd, though how he seems to rapidly go back and forth from being mobster junior to a scared, sick boy. This case will be interesting, but not easy. Not by a long shot.
Luke pulled out another plush toy from a bag that he’d brought. "Recognize this?" he asked as he dangled a black bear from a chain. "It was mailed to my place by your limousine company. I think you left it behind."
"My bear!" Frankie said excitedly. "Dat’s for Maxie. I bought it as a present for our next date."
"Maxie Jones?" Luke asked.
"Yeah, she’s my girlfriend," Frankie responded happily. "We’re going on a date as soon as I get outta here. Maybe you can give dat bear to Ruby. She’s givin’ Maxie a card from me. I want her to have dat bear."
"Sure," said Luke as he placed it back into the bag. Learn something new every day, he thought. The kid has a girlfriend. And none other than the police commissioner’s stepdaughter.
"So you’ve been to Maxie’s house?" Luke questioned curiously. "Did you meet her parents?"
"Ya," Frankie replied as he yawned. "Her mom’s nice. Dat police guy is a drag. Too many questions."
Alexis bit down on her lower lip to stifle yet another laugh.
Frankie yawned again. "Thanks for da Cookie Monster, Luke," he said sleepily. "I like dat."
"You’re welcome, son," Luke replied. "Why don’t you close your eyes and sleep? We’ll stay here with you until your mother arrives."
Frankie didn’t answer, and soon began taking in shallow, regular breaths. The Cookie Monster was still on his hand, lying on top of the bed beside his peaceful face.
"Luke, he’s cute as a button," Alexis whispered into his ear. "But he has ‘guilty as sin’ written all over him, especially when he opens his mouth and talks."
~*~*~*~
Laura entered the ICU room quietly and raised an eyebrow when she saw Luke and Alexis sitting very near each other holding hands. Alexis’ head was on Luke’s shoulder. Luke looked up and smiled. "Hi," he whispered. "He’s sleeping. He’s had a very difficult day so far. Worn out."
"How did his test go?" Laura whispered back. Laura’s eyes shifted to Alexis, who stirred and yawned.
"Rough," replied Luke. "It was real hard on him. He’s still in a lot of pain, too. He’s been sleeping for about an hour."
Laura stood beside Frankie’s bed and placed a hand on the metal bedrail. She tittered and quickly held a hand to her mouth. "What’s that?" she asked, pointing to Frankie’s puppet. Laura’s eyes danced with amusement as she regarded her ex-husband.
"That’s Cookie to you and me," Luke explained. "Frankie said his favorite memory was watching the Cookie Monster, so I bought that for him in the gift shop." Luke motioned to Laura to move away from the bed. They walked over to the doorway so that they could talk without disturbing Frankie. Alexis stood up and stretched, and then moved closer to Frankie, watching the boy’s face closely as he slept. Look how beat up he is, she thought. We need some photos before those facial bruises go away. I bet he looked like that most of the time when living with Frank, according to the PI. We need to have him talk to a child psychologist so we can get to the bottom of this and provide corroborating testimony to the reports of abuse.
"We have a meeting with his hematologist first thing tomorrow morning," Luke explained to Laura. "He’s going to discuss the drug therapy that they’ll start him on."
Laura nodded. "Either Stefan or myself will be there," she said. Laura’s face scrunched up with confusion. "Luke?" she asked. Luke’s eyes met Laura’s and she blushed slightly. "Are you seeing Alexis? I mean, are you dating her?"
Luke’s mouth turned up at the corners, and his eyes sparkled. "Wedding’s in two days, darlin’. We still need a witness. Care to volunteer?"
Laura’s eyes blinked rapidly. "What? When did this come about? Why didn’t I hear anything about this? She’s Stefan’s sister." Laura’s words trailed off as her mouth hung open. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed. Laura pointed a finger at Luke and started laughing hard. "You, you’ll be my brother in law?"
"I know," Luke sympathized as he held his hands up in the air and shrugged. "Sad but true."
"Can I be any more surprised than I have been in the last three days?" Laura asked, shaking her head. "First Lucky and now this marriage. Well, congratulations, Luke. Good luck."
Luke made a face. "Oh, don’t sound so hopeful, dearheart."
"I didn’t mean it that way," Laura replied as she waved her hand at him. "I mean, well, have a happy life."
"And step off the end of a pier," Luke added, smiling and having fun teasing Laura.
"Oh, stop it," Laura said as she turned back to Frankie. "I’ll see you later."
~*~*~*~
Even with the shifting of visitors coming and going, Frankie still slept on. Laura leaned her arm on top of the metal bedrail and lay her chin down. She watched Frankie for almost twenty minutes, memorizing his features and thinking about her son. Instinctively, she wanted to reach out to him, to hold him tightly in her arms, but she wondered how he’d react or if he’d ever want that. So far, she’d only touched him once, briefly, on his arm. Laura sighed. It wasn’t enough. She wanted to hold him like she held Lulu, with a careless love that flowed and encircled her baby. The nurse came in to check on him again, and Laura watched closely. Frankie didn’t move at all when the nurse touched him, and that concerned her. "Is he okay?" Laura whispered tensely. "Why doesn’t he wake up?"
"His vitals are good," the nurse mentioned softly. "He needs to rest. His body has been traumatized, and sleep is important for him."
Laura nodded, but still felt worried. It was an ominous feeling being surrounded by the sounds of electronic monitors and watching her still son’s labored breathing. Laura jumped when Frankie began moving his hands on the bed and mumbling. She couldn’t make out most of what he was saying, but his body was trembling, and he was saying "no" over and over again. The Cookie Monster’s big eyeballs rolled wildly on his head as Frankie pounded him with the up and down motion of his hand. Laura winced when he viciously kicked off his sheet and blanket and rolled hard on his back and then on to his other side. Frankie’s pressure bandage on his hip came loose, and some blood smeared onto his sheets and gown.
"Hey, hey," Laura said in a normal tone of voice. She touched Frankie’s shoulder, trying to wake him. Frankie stopped thrashing around and remained still on his side. Laura adjusted his gown for privacy and frowned at the smears of blood. "What’s wrong?" she asked.
Frankie coughed and opened his eyes. Laura walked around to the other side of the bed so that he could see her. "Hi," she said as her eyes roamed her son’s face, looking for signs of recognition.
"Oh," Frankie said groggily. "You’re da mother."
Laura smiled. "That’s right. I’m your mother, Laura Cassadine."
"Cassadine," Frankie muttered thickly.
"I’m going to get a nurse," Laura said. "Your bandage has come loose. Be back in a sec."
Frankie watched every move that Laura made, and his eyes followed her out of the ICU room. "Pretty," he said to himself.
~*~*~*~
Frankie was on his stomach, and the nurse was trying to clean up the blood. Frankie winced at the feeling of cold alcohol as it seemingly froze his skin. "This shouldn’t be bleeding like this," the nurse said shortly. "I’m going to call your physician." She applied a new pressure bandage to replace the old saturated one and threw the materials into a biohazard container. Frankie gritted his teeth and made a hissing noise as she moved him onto his back.
Laura watched from a short distance, wanting to give her son his privacy. Her face was pale and worried. She walked back over to his bed and said, "Are you in pain?"
"Always," Frankie smiled wryly as his eyes reflected his hurt. "Where’s da coma when you need it?"
"Do you want some pain medication?" Laura asked helpfully.
Frankie shook his head. "Nah. It makes me sick. Da room spins and I feel funny." He winced and blinked his eyes. "I gotta be on top of my form."
"Oh, and why’s that?" Laura asked conversationally as she smoothed the arm of his gown.
"Dey want to kill me," Frankie stated unemotionally as his unwavering gaze fixed on his mother’s face. "When dey find out dat I’m not fish food, well…" Frankie laughed evilly, and Laura’s stomach dropped. She felt odd, like the floor had shifted and she was no longer sure of her bearings. She made a mental note to discuss this with Luke and Stefan later.
Laura kept sneaking looks at Frankie’s extremely messed up hair and succumbed to an instinctive motherly urge. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small, pocket-sized brush. "Let me brush that hair," she stated firmly. "You’ve been lying in bed, so it’s in need of some attention." Frankie’s eyes widened, and he chuckled. "Whatever," he said. Laura moved in closer and ran her hand over his hair before stroking it with the brush. She used a light touch and carefully removed the tangles without hurting her son. She couldn’t help but notice that he had an awful dye job and that he was sporting almost an inch and a half of naturally brownish blond colored roots. "Why did you dye your hair?" she asked curiously. "Your natural color is so pretty."
Frankie’s eyes were closed as he drank in her gentle touch, and she caught him in an unguarded moment. "Da mission. Frank said I gotta be disguised."
Laura’s face betrayed her sorrow at the implications of his words. "Well, I like your hair," she stated as she continued to move the brush over her son’s longish thick, straight hair. "Here, turn your head," she instructed as her fingers moved his chin to one side so she could complete her brushing.
"Why aren’t you married to dat Luke dude?" Frankie suddenly asked Laura.
Laura’s mouth hung open in shock. She wasn’t used to thinking about it, and lately her first marriage and subsequent divorce were thrown into her face on a daily basis. "We divorced many years ago," she said, not offering a detailed explanation.
Frankie’s eyes sought out his mother’s face. "Is it because of dat dead baby?" he asked with brutal honesty.
Laura’s lips pursed as she tried to think of something appropriate to say. "Partly," she stated. "Your father and I had some differences. When tragedy struck, it seemed like a natural thing to go our separate ways. I think we would have eventually divorced anyway."
"Mmmm," murmured Frankie as he accepted her words. "What about dat Stefan. Do you like him?"
Laura laughed. "Yes, I like him. I love him, too."
Frankie noted how attractive his mother was, and a flicker of concern rose in his gut. "He doesn’t hit you, does he?" Frankie mentally recalled how Frank seemed to regularly beat on his whores, especially the pretty ones. His voice raised in pitch and intensity. "It’s not good to be beat up all da time."
Laura couldn’t feel more shocked. Was he worried about her or talking about himself? She tried to recover and paste a small smile on her face as if the topic of conversation were normal. "No, Stefan doesn’t hit me," she confirmed. "No one should ever hit another person. It’s not right."
Frankie stared at Laura without speaking as he tried to understand what she was talking about. He rubbed his lips together as he frowned. His hand reached for a sheet and gripped it tightly.
"Oh, I have something to show you," Laura said happily as she tried to diffuse the tension in the air. She reached for her wallet and pulled out a photo. "This is Lesley Lu. She’s your baby sister, and only one week old." Laura held the photo so that Frankie could see it. Frankie observed the fat cheeks and generous black hair on Lulu. He broke out into a delighted grin. "Da baby!" he said. "I like babies. Mrs. DeMarco always had some baby in da house. She said she was da magnet to da babies. She used to let me hold dem sometimes cause I wasn’t a silly DeMarco boy who’d drop ‘em to catch a baseball." Frankie laughed as he was flooded with good memories. "Can I see da baby?" he asked sincerely with wide eyes.
Laura nodded. "She can’t leave home for several weeks because she’s too new, but when you feel better, you can come to the house to see your new sister."
Laura placed the photo back into her wallet. "Is it okay with you if Stefan visits you before he leaves for the evening? He has an office at the hospital. He said he’d like to get to know you."
Frankie’s eyes narrowed and glittered with intent. This was working out so easily. Stefan wanted to know him, and he definitely wanted to know Stefan. "Oh, yes," he stated. "I’d like him to visit me."
Laura nodded with satisfaction. "Good," she said as she patted him on the leg.
Frankie sighed raggedly and lost his battle to keep his eyes open. He yawned loudly and adjusted his oxygen mask as he bent his neck to crack it.
Like father like son, Laura observed.
~*~*~*~
4:00 PM
"Sylvester!" Luke called out as he entered the Brownstone. "Let’s go!"
Sly walked over to the foyer and stood in front of his uncle. "Hi," he said quietly. "My suitcase is packed up."
Luke noted Sly’s standoffishness and wasn’t having any of it. "Give me a hug, you brat!" he said heartily as he grabbed Sly and squeezed him in a bear hug.
"I can’t breathe," Sly whined after a minute. "You’re crushing me."
Luke released Sly and made a face at him. "Sorry, kiddo," he said sincerely. "I just miss my nephew."
"I missed you, too," Sly said shyly as he kicked at the rug in the foyer and flipped the end over with his tennis shoed foot. He kept looking down at the floor, still feeling a negative emotion but unsure of what it was or why he was experiencing it. He thrust his hands into his pockets as his shoulders slumped.
"I’m hungry," Luke announced. "Do you want to grab some grub before we head home? We could go to one of those nice burger and fry joints out by the mall?"
Sly’s eyes lit up. "Can we go to the place where you watch them grill the hamburger?" he asked excitedly.
"Sure!" Luke answered. "First, go tell your aunt we’re leaving. Oh, and thank her for being nice to you. Tell her I’ll call her later."
~*~*~*~
"He said he wanted to get to know you, too," Laura exclaimed as she walked with her husband down the hallway toward the pediatric ICU.
Stefan nodded. "That’s very good," he agreed.
Laura paused with Stefan outside of Frankie’s room. "If he’s still asleep, we shouldn’t wake him up. The nurse said he needs his rest."
Laura and Stefan walked over to Frankie and saw that he was sleepily heavily. Stefan’s eyebrows rose in amusement when he saw what was on the boy’s hand. He pointed wordlessly as his eyes met his wife’s. Laura whispered in his ear, "Cookie Monster. Luke bought it for him because Frankie liked it as a child. Still does apparently." She chuckled softly. "Oh, I can’t wait to introduce Lulu to him. He was so excited when he saw her photograph. He was grinning from ear to ear. Apparently he likes babies."
Stefan’s expression softened when he noticed how happy his wife was with her son and their visit. He gave her a light hug and smiled. "Let’s go home," he said. "I’ll visit him tomorrow when he’s not sleeping."
~*~*~*~
Sly munched contentedly on his special order hamburger He swallowed his last bite of hamburger and pulled his drink closer to him, pausing to take a long sip. He wiped his hands on the paper napkin sitting on his lap. "Thanks, Uncle Luke," he said. "That was great."
"Have some more fries," Luke responded, pushing his plate toward his nephew. "I’m stuffed." Sly enthusiastically dug into the fries, dipping each one into the generous amount of ketchup on the plate.
Luke relaxed in his chair. "How’s school? What’s going on?" he asked.
Sly shrugged and continued eating. "Nothing’s going on. Just regular stuff," he answered shortly.
Luke looked closely at his nephew. Sly was reverting to his old behavior, the push and pull dynamic that he had favored for almost an entire year after he came to live with Luke. He’d offer a comment and then shut down, refusing to talk further.
"How is Nikolas?" Luke questioned. "Did you see him?"
"Yeah," Sly replied. Silence filled the air between uncle and nephew.
"And?" Luke replied with a sarcastic tone of voice. "Did you speak?" He shook his head at his stubborn nephew.
"I saw him in the hallway. We talked for a few minutes," Sly responded.
"About what?" Luke prodded.
Sly’s face colored. "Nikolas wants to beat up Frankie. He hates him."
Luke ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Why does Nikolas hate Frankie?"
Sly took another generous sip of his Coke and smiled. "Because Frankie insulted his car. He said it was an English pantywaist car."
The restaurant filled with the reverberating sound of Luke’s loud laughter. Luke shook his head. "That kid has one big mouth on him," he commented.
"And," Sly continued in a gossipy tone, "Frankie kicked his car and then scraped the paint with a key."
"That’s not nice," Luke said, frowning.
"I know," Sly replied. "But Nikolas got him back."
"How?" Luke asked with interest as his blue eyes sought his nephew’s face.
"Shoved him onto the ground and rubbed his face into the grass. He was going to pound him, but not after what Frankie did next."
Luke motioned with his hand. "Come on, Sylvester. Spit it out."
"Frankie pulled a gun on him and told him he’d blow his head off and laugh doing it."
Luke hung his head and rubbed the tense muscles in his neck. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. "Shit."
~*~*~*~
Jason was waiting nervously in an empty warehouse off of the Port Charles docks. He was ten minutes early for his meeting, and Sonny was always on time. He wasn’t especially worried that Sonny would try to kill him since Sonny was good for his word. But Jason wondered whom Sonny would bring with him for backup. He wasn’t impressed the new bodyguard Phil – he was too reactive for Jason’s tastes.
Jason pulled out the manila folder that he’d brought with him and opened it for the twelfth time in the last five minutes. A photo of a young, but hardened looking face stared back at him. The kid looked like one tough customer. Jason wondered how much a young kid could actually know about a business regardless of his father’s identity. Jason looked again at the blue eyes. They seemed sad underneath all of the surface bravado, and Jason frowned in confusion. He shrugged. Oh well. The kid’s life was none of his concern. The photo was an action shot taken on the street in front of an Atlantic City casino, an FBI surveillance photo. Jason had several FBI contacts that were occasionally willing to sell information, and they’d provided him with this photo. His contact had told him that something big was going down in the bureau concerning Frank Smith, Junior, but he hadn’t been able to get close enough to obtain the information.
Jason straightened up and hopped off of the crate where he’d been seated when the door to the warehouse opened. He blinked in surprise. Sonny was alone.
"Jason," Sonny intoned emotionlessly.
"Sonny," Jason replied quickly. "Thank you for meeting with me."
Sonny studied Jason’s face. "Let’s talk," he said.
~*~*~*~
Luke stood beside the restaurant table and counted out three one-dollar bills for a tip. Sly had walked ahead and stood in the lobby of the restaurant reading the history of the establishment, which apparently had been started by two Italian immigrant brothers in 1953, somewhere in the Pittsburgh area.
Luke felt the beeper on his hip vibrate, and his heart skipped a beat in response. He pressed the button on the beeper and frowned when he saw the number to the hospital. The ICU had given him a beeper so that they could reach him if there were a problem with his son. Luke reached into his pocket for his cell phone and rapidly dialed the number, holding his breath until someone answered the phone. A nurse answered and began outlining the reason for calling him. Luke’s face turned white as he listened. "I’ll be right there," he said. "Thanks for calling me." He placed the phone back into his pocket and went to collect his nephew.
Words that the nurse had spoken to him kept popping up in his mind as he approached Sly. Uncontrollable hemorrhaging…hematologist called…receiving high dosage IVIg, parental glucocorticoids, and anti-Rh(D)…packing surgical gauze.
Luke placed an arm around his nephew. ""I’m sorry, Sly, but I need to take you back to your Aunt Bobbie’s. There’s an emergency."
~*~*~*~
Sly stood outside of Luke’s car with the small suitcase in his hand, and his face appearing serious and upset.
"Go on," Luke directed. "I don’t want to drive away until I see you’re safely inside." Luke watched as Sly trudged up the sidewalk, climbed the stairs and opened the door, slamming it behind him.
"Oh God," Luke said out loud. "I’m sorry, buddy."
~*~*~*~
Luke’s face was red with exertion, the result of running through the hospital parking lot, to the elevators and now down the hallway to ICU5. Thankfully, Port Charles was a small city with minimal traffic. Luke had made it to the hospital twenty minutes after being beeped. He strode into his son’s room and was promptly assaulted by a grisly scene for which he wasn’t prepared. There were two nurses and two physicians around his son’s bed. The bed was level and the guardrails down. There was blood everywhere. The front of his son’s gown was wet and deeply red all the way down to his waist. Gone were the visions of clowns and balloons. Splatters of blood appeared here and there on the white hospital sheets, and Frankie’s pillow, thrown to the side of the bed, was completely saturated with blood. The last thing that Luke saw before his stomach clenched with agonizing nausea and his world turned fuzzy was the Cookie Monster puppet lying on the floor beside the bed, its huge white eyes smeared with blood.
~*~*~*~
When Luke opened his eyes, he saw the separate white ceiling tiles high above him. Confused, he tried to sit up, but only made it halfway until he groaned and leaned back on his elbow.
"Welcome back, Mr. Spencer," the ICU nurse said. "You passed out briefly. We placed you on an empty ICU bed. Do you want some juice?" She handed him a box of orange juice with a straw in it.
"What happened?" Luke asked groggily as he ran a hand over his eyes and took a sip from the straw.
"You rushed into your son’s room, and I think you became queasy at the sight of blood," she explained patiently. "Your son is okay. He’s having a serious nosebleed, but he’s receiving medication, and the Ear and Nose physician has his nose packed up. If they can control the bleeding, then he may not require surgery. It’s possible, though, that they may need to cauterize an artery. In any case, the situation is under control. They’re cleaning him up now, so we can go back there in a few minutes. I’m sorry you feel so bad."
"That’s an understatement," Luke said wryly as he held a hand to his stomach. "I feel like I stepped inside a MASH unit or something. It was like World War Three in there."
The nurse nodded. "He lost a lot of blood."
Luke’s eyes bugged. "Can this day get any worse? Is it possible?"
~*~*~*~
Felicia sighed as she nibbled on her fingernail. "Darn it," she said out loud as her fifth search came back with no hits. "Why can’t I find him?" she puzzled. Felicia looked around nervously, hoping to avoid detection. She had stopped by the hospital on the pretense of delivering some yarn for the Ladies’ Auxiliary afghan project. Audrey had been delighted to receive the ten skeins of yarn that Felicia had hurriedly purchased at Wal-Mart on her way over to the hospital. But, she didn’t have a receipt book to write out a receipt, so Felicia had offered to man the phones while Audrey walked back to her office. Immediately, Felicia had jumped onto the hospital computer and had begun searching for information on one Frank, Francis or Frankie DeMarco.
Felicia was surprised to discover that the entire General Hospital pediatrics unit had not one boy admitted to the hospital under a name approximating Frankie. Felicia repeated the search several times and was very frustrated at the lack of results. She was running out of time. Sure, Audrey was slow, but she’d be back soon. Finally, Felicia decided to peruse the entire listing for the pediatrics ICU. It wasn’t an overly large area of the hospital, and there were only seven patients listed as being in the ICU. Maybe there would be a clue there somewhere.
Felicia’s bright, inquisitive eyes flew over the listed names, and she stopped abruptly with a gasp. Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior was listed for ICU5. What? Felicia thought puzzledly. Luke doesn’t have a son. I know he has a nephew, but who could this person be? I mean, he’s listed here as a junior. What’s going on? This is weird.
Felicia flew around, her body blocking visual access to the computer monitor when she heard Audrey approaching. Her hand reached blindly behind her and rebooted the computer. "Oh, darn," she remarked to Audrey. "It looks like your computer is down. Doesn’t that just aggravate you when that happens?"