Chapter Five
The paramedics rush Nikolas into ER exam room number three. "BP is 210/100," shouts the paramedic. "It’s been at that level for the last fifteen minutes!" Nikolas’ face is dangerously red, and he lets out a terrified scream and struggles wildly when Ian approaches him. "Give him Haldol, 4mg IM ," orders Ian. "We need to be able to examine him to rule out any physical problems possibly affecting his behavior. But, he needs to calm down. We don’t want him to have a stroke. And I need a CBC, now!" The paramedic, Ian and Kevin struggle to hold Nikolas still enough so that a nurse can administer the injection and draw blood.
"Damn!" yells Ian as he tries to hold down an aggressive arm. "This kid seems to have superhuman strength." Ian’s biceps bulge with the effort, and his hands begin to fatigue.
"It’s the psychosis," Kevin grits between his teeth with his hands jumping up and down as they attempt to restrain Nikolas’ active legs and expose an injection site.
"Got it!" states the nurse triumphantly as she successfully administers the injection. The paramedic leaves, and three people watch as Nikolas futilely flexes his muscles and rolls back and forth to get off the gurney. After three minutes, Nikolas’ face begins to lose its florid color, and his BP lowers. His thrashing movements become slower and weaker, and he begins to cry and laugh. First he cries weakly, then he laughs loudly. After a few more minutes, he grows silent, and his eyelids begin to droop.
Ian slowly and quietly approaches Nikolas, trying not to make any movements that might set him off again. Ian quickly does a cursory examination and concludes that the kid seems to be in perfect physical health. Ian says, "Except for slightly elevated blood pressure, his vitals are normal and his heart and lungs sound good."
Ian nods at Kevin, and Kevin approaches the gurney. "Nikolas," he says in a calm, authoritative voice. Nikolas does not react to his name being called. "Can you speak to me, Nikolas, and tell me how you’re feeling?" Kevin questions. Nikolas eyes do not focus on Kevin or anywhere in particular. They have a blank, terrified look about them. "Nikolas, look at me!" commands Kevin in an attempt to break through to him. Nikolas does not respond and stares beyond Kevin toward the female nurse with her blond hair and aquiline profile. He begins making angry, desperate sounds, groaning and grunting and agonizing. He tries to loosen himself from the gurney’s straps, but gives up and turns his head away, staring at the wall. Now and again something seems to flit through his mind, and he half-yells and half-moans, "Ahhh…. uuuhhh….ahhhhh."
Kevin turns to the nurse. "Keep track of the time and administer 2 mg Haldol IM in ten minutes. Take his vitals every fifteen minutes and keep me posted." Kevin turns to Ian. "He’s unresponsive and completely psychotic. We need to keep him medicated until we can bring him to a place where he can communicate with us." Kevin shakes his head and places a hand on his hip. He looks at Ian with a concerned expression on his face. "His mother indicated that she hasn’t noticed any unusual behavior in her son recently. However, the boy lives with his uncle, and we need to talk with him to determine his recent behavior patterns. It’s unclear whether this is a brief episode in response to a trauma or if it is a symptom of something more serious."
"Shall we transfer him to the psychiatric ward?" asks Ian. Kevin nods and instructs the nurse on the particulars of Nikolas’ transfer.
~*~*~*~
Sonny slams shut his cell phone and disgustedly throws it at the nearest potted plant. The plastic case of the phone hits the brass pot and shatters on impact. He begins pacing and rubbing the back of his neck. He is getting a wicked headache, and this is the last straw.
Sonny’s guard approaches. "Problems, boss?" he asks respectfully.
"Ha, yeah, you could say that, Ernie!" he spits out, eyes flashing with anger. "Sorel has ruined my latest coffee shipment and caused Kelly’s diner to be shut down. Dammit!" he exclaims with a grimace that outlines the dimples in his flushed face. Sonny picks up a magazine and begins ripping it apart page by page, letting the severed pieces float down to the hard, linoleum floor. His tense muscles relax a bit watching the graceful pattern of paper falling onto the floor.
"The man is a royal pain in the ass," Sonny says with a quiet, dangerous tone. "He needs to be stopped – permanently."
Dr. Alan Quartermaine, who exits the ER exam room where Johnny has been for the last hour, interrupts sonny’s rant. "Sonny," he says in a quiet voice filled with concern and regret. "Come with me," he instructs with a gentle, guiding hand on Sonny’s shoulder. The two men walk over to a private consultation room adjoining the ER. A grip of cold fear takes hold of Sonny’s heart, and he swallows a couple of times, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.
Alan sits behind a desk, and Sonny takes a padded green chair. Alan clears his throat. "I’m sorry, Sonny," he says. "We did everything we could. Your friend didn’t make it. His internal injuries were too severe, and he died before we could take him to surgery. I’m sorry for your loss," he repeats.
Sonny sits quietly, not moving or speaking. He has shut down emotionally and can’t seem to react to the news. He looks down at the commercial grade carpet with its nubs of gray, green and yellow, curling and entwining themselves over and over into a repetitive, meaningless pattern of color. A minute goes by, and Sonny still doesn’t speak. The floor beneath his feet seemingly entrances him.
"Sonny?" asks a concerned Alan. "Is there anyone you’d like me to call?"
Sonny jumps slightly and rubs his fingers repeatedly over his eyes. "Um, thanks, Alan," he says with no emotion. Another minute goes by, and Sonny looks up at Alan with tears and desperation reflecting in his eyes. "He was my friend," his voice quavers. "I didn’t get to tell him goodbye. He died without…." Sonny cuts himself off and shakes and turns his head. Suddenly he jumps up from his chair and leaves the room.
Ernie the guard is standing right outside the door as Sonny rushes past. "Boss?" he questions. "Get the limo!" Sonny orders tersely. As he walks swiftly down the halls of GH, Sonny hisses, "Sorel is DEAD! He is finished. This is WAR!" Sonny’s wild eyes take in the shocked looks of waiting patients. "What are you looking at?" he yells as he exits the automatic door.
~*~*~*~
Detective Garcia knocks on the door and enters the consultation room where Alan is still sitting. When he is finished telling Alan the desperately sad news about his daughter’s recent death, Alan’s face falls, and he intimately understands the terrible, hollow feeling that his news gives to other people on a daily basis.
~*~*~*~
Todd Manning is slowly coming to consciousness and resting uncomfortably on his stomach in his new hospital room. Lucky’s condition has been upgraded to good, but Todd’s condition is still fair as a result of his new wounds and concussion. He has been reconnected to his catheters, monitors, and IV’s. A new unit of blood slowly drips into his waiting veins.
Lucky is awake and watching TV with the sound off so he doesn’t disturb Todd. Ian had considered separating the two men after their last escapade, but Lucky’s pleas and promises to be good reached their mark, and Ian relented, allowing them to room together. Lucky periodically looks over at Todd when he moans and twitches. He’s bored and want his friend to wake up so they can talk about Andreas and their next plan to avoid death by choking black leather gloved hands.
Lucky wonders where his mother is. He hasn’t seen her since he woke up. Luke had stopped by a minute ago and yelled at Lucky about his escape attempt. At least dad believes me about Andreas, thinks Lucky. Luke had become furious when Lucky told him about Andreas’ strangling attempt and rushed out to see if he could find the goon.
Lucky is glad that his days of catheter and monitor madness are over, and he walks with his IV pole over to the adjoining bathroom and shuts the door. When he returns to his bed, he sees that Todd’s eyes are open.
"Todd!" says Lucky grinning. "How’s that head?"
"I hate you. Die," Todd croaks angrily.
Lucky’s crinkles his brow. "What’s wrong with you?" he snips.
"You tell me, Houdini," Todd rasps. "You never perfected the rope trick, did you? You’ve ruined me, I’ll never be the same," he whines. "I feel like my back’s been run over by a lawn mower. I hate you," he hisses again.
"You are such a sissy," huffs Lucky. "I’ve been shot before. That’s a lot more serious."
"When I can get off my stomach, I’m gonna kill you, Un-Lucky," grits Todd. "And, I have five bullet wounds in my back and one in my chest. Want to count them?"
"I have a stab wound in my stomach," Lucky retorts breezily.
"Same here," says Todd smugly.
"Well, I’ve been paralyzed," Lucky shoots back, certain of his victory.
"I’VE been DEAD for a year," Todd yells. "Killed because of an Irish poet who later slept with my wife and knocked her up. Beat that."
Lucky shrugs with defeat. "Okay, you win."
"Turn me around so I can see the TV," Todd orders weakly. "I need to know what’s going on in the world."
Lucky turns Todd’s bed around and notes Todd’s gray complexion, bandaged back and head, and tight, pained face. "I’m sorry," he says softly. "I didn’t mean for you to get hurt."
"Whatever," Todd replies wearily in near acceptance of the apology. He tries to raise and eyebrow and hisses at the pain. "Turn the sound on so I can hear it.".
<<…Hundreds of concerned, startled citizens in Port Charles were poisoned by their coffee today in a little diner called Kelly’s. There is a shortage of toilet paper in local stores, and plumbers are busy unclogging toilets all over the fair city. Rumors of mob retaliation have surfaced…>>
"AAHAAAHAHAHA!!" Todd barks in a harsh, delighted laugh. "OWOWOWOWOW!" he follows up as his head pounds threateningly and his wounds knife into his nerves.
"I love this town!" Todd smiles for the first time since his accident. "Beats Llanview any day, the b**tards," he grumbles.
"Lucky, hand me the phone," says Todd. "We need to invest some of our new money."
"Henderson!" Todd barks at his attorney. "I want to purchase something, and I need you to clear the way for me to do that."
"What? It’s a newspaper, you nincompoop," retorts Todd. "What else do I ever buy? Get me the Port Charles Herald. It’s mine. I want it."
Todd hangs up the phone and glances at Lucky. "How does it feel to be the new assistant publisher of a newspaper?" He snorts and grins. "You’ll learn everything you need to know from the Master - ME."
Lucky stares at Todd with a fearful, worried look on his face.
~*~*~*~
Ian and Kevin walk over to Laura and Stefan, who are seated in the ER waiting area. Stefan had arrived at the hospital ten minutes ago, immediately after his release from jail. Unfortunately, Luke arrived at precisely the same time, but the two darted off in different directions.
"Mr. and Mrs. Cassadine?" asks Ian Thornhart. "Spencer," replies Laura quickly and flatly. Stefan flushes and glares at Ian.
"My apologies," says Ian. "Your son appears to be in fine physical health. His blood pressure was sharply elevated when he arrived, probably because of his agitated emotional state, but it is in the normal range now." Ian turns to Kevin.
"We’re concerned about Nikolas’ mental and emotional health," Kevin says. "I need to know how his behavior has been over the past month or two. Anything unusual? Increased irritability, quick mood changes, inappropriate reactions to events?"
"I haven’t noticed anything unusual, but like I told the admitting nurse, Nikolas does not live with me. He lives with his uncle," Laura states, looking over at Stefan.
"My nephew has not experienced any unusual behavior," lies Stefan who recalls Nikolas’ desperate streak nearly naked through GH, his changeable moods, and moody silences. I must protect Nikolas at all costs. The Cassadine family cannot know this. Nikolas is a prince, he will be The Cassadine soon. He must command respect.
"Is there a family history of mental illness?" asks Kevin, glancing first at Laura, then at Stefan.
"My mother had a breakdown," says Laura, "But it was drug induced." Laura frowns and purses her lips when she turns to Stefan.
"No," lies Stefan again. "There is no history of mental illness among the Cassadines." I must get Nikolas out of the country, he thinks desperately.
"Have any unusually traumatic events happened to Nikolas recently?"
Laura looks sad. "Both his friend and grandmother were murdered last night. Nikolas is a suspect in both deaths. But, we believe he is innocent," she asserts firmly.
"Thank you for this information," Kevin states with some relief. "My initial diagnosis is that he’s suffered a brief, situational psychosis as a result of trauma. It should subside within a few days at most. Nikolas has been medicated and transferred to the psychiatric ward where he’ll be closely monitored."
Laura’s eyes fill with tears, and Stefan’s jaw twitches in anger.
~*~*~*~
Andreas gleefully counts out his $1000 prize money. He has won the Elvis contest! His white teeth flash in a delighted grin as he recalls his tender rendition of "Hound Dog." The money will come in handy until Helena’s will is read. He will not need to hock her jewels yet. Madam has promised to generously remember me, recalls Andreas. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the dangling gold key and airline ticket to Greece. "I wonder what other surprise she has for me?" he laughs as he reaches for his black leather gloves.
It’s country music time…