No One's Gone for Long - 1

   "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"
   Lucky shut his eyes as the minister's voice droned on and on.  He fought to keep from crying, but he could not stop the tears rolling down his cheeks.  He felt the emptiness in his stomach and the coldness in his heart and suddenly found it too much to bear.  "No!" he shouted, falling to his knees.  "Oh god, no!"
   His mother and father rushed forward to help him, but they were restrained by Mac Scorpio, who watched sadly as they lowered Elizabeth Webber's coffin into the waiting grave.  The sound of the coffin hitting the bottom was a dull thud, and the sound brought a fresh wave of tears to the sobbing boy kneeling before the grave.
   Luke pashed past Mac and stood over his son, placing a comforting hand on his shaking shoulder.  "Don't touch me!" Lucky shouted, shrinking away from his father's hand.
   "Lucky-" Luke started, but Mac cut him off.
   "Leave him alone."
   "No."
   "Luke," Mac warned.  Luke did not respond, but inched closer to his son.  "Luke."  He moved closer still.  "Luke!"
   Luke whipped around to face the police commissioner.  "You stay out of this," he threatened through clenched teeth.
    "He needs to be alone, Luke."
    Luke looked toward his son.  Lucky still knelt by the open grave, his shoulders shaking, but no more tears came.  His body trembled and he rocked back, so that he sat fully on the ground.  He drew his knees up to his chest and laid his head on them.     Luke watched with tears in his eyes. "It's killing him," he whispered.
   "He'll be fine," Mac insisted, pulling the man away from his distraught son.  Lucky did not move from his place beside the grave.
   Luke and Mac returned to stand by Laura, whose eyes were also swollen and red.  "He loved her," she said through her tears.  "I know he did."
   Luke and Mac nodded their agreement, and they joined the rest of the gathered people in the sad procession to Audrey Hardy's house.
 

"Could you please eat, honey?"
   "I'm not hungry."
   "I know that you're upset, and you have every right to be. And this is your first night home, that can't be easy, but you HAVE to eat, sweetie."
   "I said I wasn't hungry."
   "But-"
   "Laura! Leave the boy alone! If he's not hungry, he's not hungry."
   Lucky watched silently as Luke stood and pushed his chair in. He lifted his plate and looked to his son expectantly. Lucky watched his father angrily for a moment, then stood as well, plate in hand. "You want it?" he asked. "Here! You can have it!" He hurled the plate at the wall, where it shattered and spilled its contents on the carpeted floor.
   Laura gasped in shock and rushed forward to pick up the shattered pieces. "Let him clean up for himself, Laura," he siaid, and disappeared into the kitchen.
   "Don't listen to him, Lucky. He just doesn't know how to express his feelings. He's really very upset and nervous, just like you-" She broke off as she realized that Lucky was not listening. He was staring at the fragments of porcelain at Laura's feet, his eyes fixed on the broken floral design. "Lucky," Laura said slowly, then got to her feet and crossed the room to her son. She pulled him into a hug, and he leaned his head gratefully on her shoulder. "It's been a long day," Laura said. "Why don't you go upstairs and get ready for bed. There's a pair of boxers and a shirt on the bed for you."
   Lucky nodded numbly and started toward the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder at his mother, who had returned to her task. "Mom?" he called.
   Laura looked up and smiled gently. "Yes, Lucky?"
   "Thank you. For everything," Lucky added, then headed up the stairs to his room.
   Laura watched his retreating back, and wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

   Alexis turned the key in the doorknob, and was relieved to hear the lock click. She had been more than a little worried that Helena had had her locks changed. She stepped into the dark room and quickly switched on the light. She drew in a sharp breath at the sight before her.
   "What's the matter, Alexis? Haven't you seen a living corpse before?"

   Martin smiled widely at the young man before him. "First time?" he asked.
   The young man nodded nervously. "I'm not usually one for grave robbing."
   "Well," Martin said. "Mr. Cassadine asked that we move this one to a more immediate area."
   "Did he give a reason?" the young man asked. "I can't see what he has to do with a corpse."
   "Who knows?" Martin asked. "Perhaps his taste in women is a bit---- different than most mens. Maybe he likes 'em stiff," he added, and chuckled.
   "That's disgusting."
   "Well, he's disgusting. He's going to bury a teenage girl in his backyard, for cryin' out loud."
   "RE-bury a teenage girl," the young man corrected.
   "That's right. Re-bury. So, you ready to start digging?"
   "I guess," the young man responded, and the two set to work. After a moment, the young man stopped and leaned on his shovel. "Martin," he said.
   "Yuh," the man grunted, pausing to wipe sweat off his forehead.
   "I knew her," the young man said slowly. "Elizabeth Webber. She was seeing one of my friends."
   Martin looked up at him curiously. "You mean you're digging up your friend's girlfriend?"
   "You offered me the job."
   "You needed money."
   "Yeah, well, this is not what I had in mind." The young man stared at the ground, his expression grave.
   "Jeez, Sly, if I knew you were going to be this difficult, I would've hired someone else." Martin went back to his work, shaking his head irritably. Sly watched silently for a moment, then joined in the work.
   Since the soil was fresh, they had finished digging in no time. Sly stepped away from the grave, and watched as Martin worked the lid off the coffin. "What the hell?" Martin said, his voice betraying his shock.
   "What?" Sly asked, and leaned forward to look in at the older man.
   "There's nothin' in here."



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