Part VIII
An internal alarm clock would go off in Alexis' head every morning at seven o'clock. She sat upright with a start, her eyes darting around the room until they focused on the clock. She squinted and scolded herself when she realized it was after ten and she was just waking.
Alexis threw the covers away from her body. Her feet hit the floor with a thud. She stood up and held her fists against her hips. She was about to stomp out of the room when she caught sight of a small slip of paper on the ground, wrapped around a single red rose. A smile crossed Alexis' lips and she released a deep breath, calming herself.
Stooping to take the rose into her fingers, she inhaled the sweet fragrance. The petals were soft against her nose. She opened the note and could hear Jax's voice in her head as she read his words, "I had to leave for a meeting. I didn't want to wake you. Just follow the clues!"
She giggled and moved to the door. On the wall in front of her was a piece of paper with a bright blue arrow pointing to the bathroom. Alexis scampered down the hall and into the bathroom. She shook her head, amazed by Jax's thoughtfulness. A basket of various lotions, bubble baths and candles awaited her. She peeled a scrap of paper away from the basket's handle, turning around to follow it's instructions to go into his bedroom.
Taped to the mirror above Jax's dresser was a large envelope. Alexis reached inside and pulled out two tickets to the theater; her favorite symphony was playing. She clasped them to her chest and felt tears sting her eyes. She wasn't worthy of his shower of attention and affection.
Alexis followed the next set of instructions to "the place you spend most of your time." She found a tray of her favorite foods waiting to be devoured, displayed on the desk. "You're going to make me fat," she said aloud, reaching for the note.
She laughed when she read Jax's words, "Enjoy. And don't say I'm going to make you fat. I'd still love you."
He'd still love me, she thought to herself. Love. She did love him. But there was something holding her back. Something that wouldn't allow her to fall into his open arms. She bit down on her lower lip, surveying the food. Like a tone of bricks, the events of the night before struck her. Alexis turned away from the food and dashed back to her bedroom, knowing there was something that could not wait.
~*~
The rhythmic sound of water splashing into water was putting him to sleep. Luke rubbed his eyes and added several drops of whiskey into his coffee. He reached to his side and adjusted the position of the metal pot on his desk, making sure the leak on the ceiling wouldn't drip onto the papers cluttering the desk.
Luke pushed his chair back enough to swing his legs, propping his feet on the desk. He crossed one ankle over the other and began rocking in his chair. He held his mug in one hand and balanced a cigar between two fingers. He watched the trail of smoke waft into the air, circling around him. Luke couldn't remember the last time he had relaxed in his office, enjoying such simplicities as the smell of a good Cuban. There had been no reason to.
When the door flew open without any warning, Luke opened his mouth to protest. But when he looked up and saw Alexis, he quickly sealed his lips and sat back.
She offered a slight smile and stepped into the room. She shut the door and hung her purse from the hook nailed into the wall. "Hi," she spoke quietly, cautiously.
Luke smashed the lit end of his cigar into the ashtray, smearing the dark ashes around the bottom. He waved to her and stood up. "Let's just skip all the awkward hellos, Natasha," he suggested. He stretched his arms and yawned.
"You look terrible," Alexis observed, focusing on the dark circles under his eyes.
"Let's just get right to the witty insults." Luke snorted as he laughed, his throat tight and dry. He circled around his desk and sat on the edge. He narrowed his eyes and said, "Your not lookin' so hot yourself, princess. Did Golden Boy keep you up all night?" He lowered his voice to a raspy, husky whisper. "Or is it because he couldn't live up to the high standards you musta set by now?"
Alexis rolled her eyes. She stood in front of him, hands on her hips. "Be quiet, Luke. I didn't come here to argue with you. Something happened and I think you should know about it."
He swallowed hard, twisting his neck side to side. Luke played with the buttons on his shirt, loosening the few that kept the shirt buttoned to his neck. He felt a wave of heat rise to his skin, burning him from the inside out. He dropped his chin to his chest and whispered, "Lucky." He heard Alexis' hair rustle against her shoulders as she nodded. He looked up and asked, "What happened?"
"He's okay, Luke. He's not with Helena anymore, but-"
"Wait," he dropped onto his feet, leaning down until their faces were mere inches apart. His breath was intrusive against Alexis' skin as he hollered, "You saw him? You saw my son and you're just now telling me?"
Alexis backed up, holding her hands up. "Calm down. Just let me explain everything, okay?"
Luke nodded. He moved back to sit on the edge of the desk, reaching behind him for his coffee mug. He swallowed a large gulp, his eyes filling with moisture as the lukewarm liquid burned and scratched his throat. "Explain," he ordered.
"I came home from the Nurses' Ball," Alexis started to speak, her words shaky as their eyes caught. She would leave out the details that would remind them of what happened in his car, but they were both thinking about it. The memory was reflected in their eyes, showing in the way he'd watch her every time her eyes darted away, and then quickly look down when Alexis caught him staring. Showing in the way her breath hitched every time he moved, every time she caught sight of his hands. "And," she went on, nervously twisting her ring, "after a while, somehow... Lucky broke into the penthouse. He wouldn't let me call you or anyone else, Luke. I tried to convince him that no one wanted to hurt him, that no one was after him. Mad at him. But he wouldn't listen."
"How'd he look?" Luke asked her, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. He felt tears trying to break through, but he wouldn't let them.
Alexis closed her eyes, picturing Lucky. "Good," she said after a beat, opening her eyes. She smiled and repeated, "Good. He looks strong and so... grownup. A little dirty, maybe. But no bruises, no bones poking through his skin. Very healthy."
Luke nodded. "I'm glad. I mean, of course. I wish I had seen him. To know for sure, you know," he stuttered, shaking his head.
"It's okay. The thing is, Luke, we know he's around. We know he can take care of himself. He's sorry for what he did."
"There's a but, isn't there?"
Alexis sighed, listening to Lucky's voice play repeatedly in her head. "He doesn't really have sour feelings toward Helena," she told him. Luke's jaw dropped, his eyes screwed into slants, puzzled and angry. She shrugged, just as lost as him. "I don't understand. But he seems to think that Helena saved him, and that he's doing something wrong by disobeying her and running away. Which means-"
"We have to kill the bitch."
"Well, yeah," Alexis smiled at his bluntness. She turned around and started pacing the room, arms crossed. It was an action she performed whenever the conspiring part of her brain began to work. "It's going to be hard to track Lucky down, because he could be anywhere. But I have a feeling that he was trying to reach out, and maybe that won't be the last time. Helena is around, we know that. We have to keep them from finding each other. It won't be ea..." Her words faded when she turned and saw Luke, his shoulders slumped and shaking. She could see how tightly his muscles were clenched, how hard he was struggling not to fall apart.
Alexis moved toward him, stopping suddenly before she got too close. She cocked her head to the side, bending her knees to look up at his face. "Luke?"
He didn't move. He didn't make a sound. Minutes passed, a thick silence between them, before he did anything. When Luke finally looked up, his face crumbled and thick tears dripped down his cheeks. Alexis felt a sharp pain stab her chest and she spread her arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.
His head fell against her shoulder. Luke found the strength to lift his arms and hold them around her waist, pressing the pads of his fingers into her back. Dry, heaving breaths were muffled as he pressed his face against her neck. She felt him shake and take several deep breaths, calming himself down. Luke pulled away slowly, wiping his eyes.
"Sorry 'bout that. It's just that I try to downplay what's goin' on. I try to tell myself I'm exaggerating the circumstances, and that Helena's not really that powerful. But the idea that my son would consider her a savior... that's too much, Alexis. Too much," Luke told her sadly, shaking his head in disbelief.
Alexis opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by the ringing of her cellular phone. She rolled her eyes and reached into her purse. "Hello?"
"Alexis."
She drew in a ragged breath. "Hello. Has something happened?" Alexis asked, able to read the tone of her brother's voice.
On the other line, Stefan remained quiet. He was trying to listen to the sounds crackling through to him, breathing that was not Alexis'. He shook his head and said, "Yes. I need to see you right away."
"Okay. I'll come to you," she said quickly, snapping the phone shut and dropping it back into her purse. She looked at Luke and told him, "I have to go. But we'll talk soon."
Luke watched as she took her purse from the hook on the door, swinging it over her shoulder. He expected her to open the door and slip outside, leaving without more than a simple "goodbye" or weak wave of her hand. But she crossed the floor and rest her hand over his knee. "Lucky might not want to admit it, but there's a lot of you inside of him. And fortunately he inherited whatever good qualities are lurking inside of you," she whispered, tapping his chest with two fingers.
Luke wrapped his fingers around her wrists, holding her in place. Their faces moved closer together. Their lips met softly, brushing together. Alexis pulled away enough to catch his eyes. She saw that he smiled and pressed a more rough, more lingering kiss against his lips. It was hard to break away, hard to willingly end the way his tongue softly traced her lips and sank in and out of her mouth. But Alexis moved away, wordlessly, and slipped out of the room.
~*~
He rubbed his hands together, trying to stop them from trembling. Stefan hadn't been sure why the photographs of Lucky with Helena had shaken him up so much. But the more he shuffled through them, the more it became clear. In every photograph, a genuine smile was painted across Helena's face. She looked at Lucky with proud eyes. Her arm around his shoulders was soft but firm, not cold and forced. She was regarding the young boy with respect and love, the way a good mother would.
Stefan cringed and stuffed the pictures back into the envelope. He hastily tossed it on his desk, moving to the other side of the room as if physical distance from the evidence would lessen his mother's crime. He wrapped his hand around the crystal decanter resting on a tray of glasses and bottles. He removed the decanter's lid and filled a glass with the amber liquid. Stefan held the glass to the light, watching the way pinks and browns sparkled in the glass.
"Checking for cracks?"
He looked to the door, startled. "Alexis," Stefan sighed, setting the glass on the table.
She walked into the room, smiling. "You used to do that, remember. All the time." He squinted, confused. Alexis took the glass into her hand and clarified, "Sometimes Mikkos would leave a glass of sherry or cognac on a table. You wouldn't drink it like Stavros would. You held it to the light, watching the colors sparkle. Marveling at the light."
"Ah," he said, remembering. Stefan nodded and poured another glass as he watched Alexis take a sip from his. "I was not expecting you so soon."
"It seemed rather urgent," she told him, following her brother as he walked to his desk. She sat down across from him. Alexis found herself holding two fingers over her lips, or hiding her mouth behind the glass. It was as if he could see Luke Spencer's kiss staining her mouth, his image burning in her eyes and the marks his hands left on her skin.
Stefan reached inside the brown envelope and removed the photographs. Alexis couldn't focus on them as he waved them roughly, not caring if they became bent or smudged. "I decided to pay my mother a visit. What was said does not matter as much as what was found," Stefan said, leaning forward. He took one of the photographs between his fingers and slowly held it up to Alexis. "Recognize this?"
She took the picture from him, holding it close to her eyes and then eyeing it from far away. Alexis' eyes widened as she recognized the photo's background. A small, barely audible gasp of breath escaped her lips. "Yes," she whispered. "The summer villa. It was Mikkos'... no," she corrected herself, "it was Stavros' favorite place."
Stefan nodded. He exposed another picture to her surprised and puzzled eyes. "Lucky and Helena on a yacht," he said absently, as though reading a caption printed on the back of the photo.
Alexis snatched it from him, squinting to read the letters printed on the yacht. She sighed, "This belonged to-"
"Luke and Laura," Stefan finished for her.
She reached onto the desk and took the entire stack of pictures into her hands. She flipped through them, quicker and quicker as more landmarks became recognizable. Alexis remembered one of the buildings as a theater Stavros used to frequent, a hillside as a piece of land Mikkos owned in Russia. A field of wildflowers with a small cabin in the distance was Cassadine property when she was twelve, and Stavros used to meet young women in the village and retreat with them to the cabin.
"Do you know what these mean?" Stefan asked, hoping she understood more than he did. Hoping she could confirm or deny his suspicions.
Alexis propped her elbow on the desk, holding her palm over her face. She bit her bottom lip until she felt her tears stifle, the burning slowly dissolving. When she looked up, Stefan was kneeling on the ground, his hand reaching to cover her knee. She smiled at his concern and said, "I know what it means. At least I think I do, and part of me is really hoping that I'm wrong." She shifted on the chair and took his offered hand. "It seems that Helena was taking Lucky on a tour of his parent's, and the Cassadine's, past. It's almost like she was turning him into Stavros, her loyal son. She was training him."
He cocked his head to the side. "Training?"
"Uh," Alexis stammered, dropping his hand and standing up. She crossed the floor, pacing in circles. "You know, telling him that Stavros was the good guy and Luke's the villain. That the Cassadines were never out for anything more than improving the world, but his father wanted total destruction. Distorting the truth. Turning the tables. I don't know."
Stefan followed her chaotic, hurried steps. He reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt, tugging Alexis toward him and turning her around. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arms. "What did you mean 'training,' Alexis? For what? We need to be very precise."
She shrugged, squirming in his grasp. But the tighter he held her, the more Alexis wanted to be held. The more she wanted to sink against him, to eliminate all secrets and walls between them.
Alexis copied her brother's gestures, circling her fingers around his arms. Her fingers dug into his skin, into the course fabric of his suit jacket. "I have something to tell you," she said, her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes.
"What is it, Alexis?"
"You have to promise me you'll remain calm. You have to swear that Helena is the only person who has done any wrong, the only person who deserves to be punished. You have to promise me, Stefan." She sounded as though they were children again, and she wrapped her pinky around his and made Stefan swear that he wouldn't tell the governess how she skipped her reading time to ride the new horse.
He kept his eyes level with her's. "I promise, Alexis. Now, tell me."
"When I was shot," she began, and he nodded with each word, "it wasn't Helena that pulled the trigger. But she's still responsible."
"Who, Alexis? Who?"
She swallowed hard, a single tear escaping her closed eyes. If she had spoken any lower, if her voice had been anymore strained, he would not have heard when she said, "Lucky."
Stefan's hands slipped away from her arms. He stepped back, shaking his head. "Lucky Spencer shot you?"
Alexis nodded. "You promised, Stefan. He's not at fault. You cannot suddenly decide you must avenge my honor and go after Lucky. Don't think of him as Luke Spencer's son. Think of him as an innocent child who was robbed of a year of his life by your mother, who's been trained to think and do awful things. Because that is exactly what happened. That is as precise as I can be."
He reached for her hand, bringing it to his mouth. His lips grazed her knuckles and settled against the soft skin of her hand. "We'll find Lucky," he promised. "And we'll make sure Helena can never hurt another soul."
"I'm already making sure of that," she confessed, leaving Luke out of things. "But I could sure use my brother." Alexis smiled, and Stefan returned the gentle, playful grin. They held out their arms and pulled each other into a warm embrace.
~*~
Lucky knew it was a bad idea. A terrible risk. But he was beginning to think he wanted to be found by Helena or one of her guards. He was beginning to think he deserved whatever punishment they were waiting to give him.
He walked down the street as though it were any other day. Lucky walked as though he had been living the past year as any other year, with a girlfriend dreaming of paint brushes and trips to New York City. With a little sister and a big brother. With two parents. He let his arms swing at his sides, pushed his hair away from his face. He even curled his lips into an O and whistled, not caring who stopped to look at him.
It was comforting that strangers didn't know none of those things were true. They didn't know he hadn't seen his sister for a year, that she thought he was an angel in heaven. The people walking their dogs down Sullivan Street had no idea that Lucky Spencer was dead, that his ghost was enjoying the sunny afternoon.
Lucky stopped at the corner of the street, where the quiet residential area intersected with a strip of boutiques and restaurants. His eyes followed two little boys speeding down the sidewalk on their bicycles, their legs in a competition to see who could pump the rattling wheels faster. He watched a little girl holding her father's hand as she wobbled on roller blades, the skin on her knees already scraped and torn. Life was all around him, and yet when Lucky saw the sleek black limousine pull to the curb, he didn't try and run.
One of the doors opened, and two pairs of legs covered in tan silk emerged from the car. Helena's feet hit the sidewalk, her face twisted in disgust as though her shoes were now damaged by the common, cruddy street and the ordinary air around her. She remained seating, but poked her head out of the car enough for her eyes to lock with Lucky's. She didn't have to move or speak to convey her order.
He nodded to himself. Lucky was tired of hiding. He walked to the limo and stood on the sidewalk, leaning against a newspaper stand. "Hello, Helena," he greeted her with nervous joy, the way a student greets his teacher on the first day of school.
Her thin lips spread into a smile that was a mixture of relief at his well being, and bitterness. Anger. "Hello, Lucky," she answered back, accentuating each sound and letting his name slowly roll off her tongue. "We certainly have a lot to talk about, wouldn't you say?"
Another door opened and Andreas stepped out. He stood behind Lucky, holding his hand inside his jacket and letting him see the shape of a gun. "Get inside," he ordered.
Lucky didn't move. He could hear voices overlapping in his head; Helena telling him that she was his only hope, Alexis begging him to let her help, the way his mother must have sounded when she mourned his death. He dropped his head to the ground and held his hands against his ears, trying to shake the voices from his head.
At the other end of the street, Jax emerged from a small cafe carrying a paper cup and a newspaper tucked under his arm. He stopped and tried to shield himself. His breath caught in his throat when he recognized the young man as Lucky. He started to move toward them, but could see that Helena's guard was holding a gun. And behind the limo's tinted windows, he was sure there were more men with more guns. To any other pedestrians, it appeared that a grandmother and her grandson were debating on which restaurant to have lunch, while the chauffeur stood by, annoyed. But he knew it was much more than that, and Jax felt for his cellular phone inside his jacket and stepped back into the cafe, watching the scene play out from a distance.
Lucky finally looked up, letting his arms drop to his sides. He climbed into the car, looking out at the road as Helena sat beside him. He memorized every detail before the door slammed shut; it had been his freedom for a few days, and now it was just another memory. He was back where he belonged, where he deserved to be.
~*~
"These are my favorite," Alexis cooed, bending down to inhale the sweet fragrance of the pink roses. She continued walking and shook her head, changing her mind. "No, these are." She fingered the soft petals of violet roses, looking up to see her brother laughing. "What?"
Stefan continued to chuckle, his stiff shoulders loosening as he laughed. He circled around the garden, admiring the work of his staff. "I should spend more time in the garden," he sighed, moving to the wooden bench resting beneath two tall trees. He sat down and waited to speak until Alexis joined him. "I often take advantage of all that we have here."
"We?"
He nodded. "This house is your's as much as it is mine, Alexis. You may not live here, but you are always welcome. And wanted."
"Good to know," she smiled, patting his arm. She tilted her head back to gaze at the sky, the most beautiful shade of blue she had ever seen. It was like looking into Jax's eyes, she thought. And suddenly her neck snapped and she was facing forward. Jax. She had forgotten about the trail of surprises he left her that morning. She had forgotten about her deceit, which wasn't even deceit. They weren't married, not engaged, not even lovers. But yet she felt so guilty for being with Luke. "I need to get going," Alexis finally said, scooting to the edge of the bench.
Stefan stood up, extending his hand toward her. "I'll walk you to the launch," he said.
Before they could make it out of the garden, an out of breath Nikolas came running toward them. His words were unintelligible as he panted. He caught his breath, but his voice was still a flurry of panic. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"You're sorry for what?" Stefan asked, just as he looked past Nikolas to see a huddle of cops making their way toward them. "What happened, Nikolas?"
"I was at the cottage. They came with a warrant, and I thought they would find something about Helena. I'm so sorry," Nikolas apologized, fear and confusion stinging his eyes.
Mac and Taggert approached them. Taggert swung a pair of handcuffs back and forth, grinning. "Nice to see the family all gathered together. Too bad this Kodak moment can't last a little longer," he laughed.
"What's going on?" Alexis asked, the lawyer in her taking over.
She stepped away as Taggert grabbed her brother's arms, holding them behind Stefan's back. As he clasped the cuffs around Stefan's wrists, Mac announced, "Stefan Cassadine, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Alexis Davis."
"What?" They shouted in unison.
Mac went on, "You have the right to-"
Alexis interrupted him, "Excuse me. What the hell is happening? Where's your evidence? Where is this coming from?"
"As you know, we had been continuing our investigation of your attempted murder. We searched the family's cottage today and found the murder weapon, wrapped in a handkerchief with your initials. We matched the fingerprints, Cassadine," Mac informed them. "And if you can't provide us with an alibi, we're charging you."
The rest of Mac's words and the images around Alexis became a blur. She saw Nikolas shaking his head and continuing to apologize. She saw Stefan struggling out of the handcuffs, fighting to reach her. His mouth moved but she couldn't hear him, couldn't understand anything. Part of Alexis knew she couldn't jump to conclusions until she saw the evidence, read the police report and talked to Stefan. She knew he wasn't involved. But she had never mentioned Lucky's name until today, never let on that she knew he was her shooter. Stefan had been the one to return her mother's necklace.
Suddenly, the sister in her was battling the lawyer in her. Alexis felt herself being ripped in half. He couldn't be involved, she told herself. He would have never touched that gun, never wrapped it in his handkerchief and planted it at the cottage. He would have never tried to end the life he had worked so hard to protect. But it wouldn't matter how profusely she believed his innocence if no one else did.
~*~