No One's Gone for Long - 2

 Martin clambered out of the grave with Sly's help. He shook his head in disdain and peered down into the darkness again. "Unbelievable," he said. "Someone beat us to her."
   Sly frowned darkly. "What would anyone want with a corpse?" he asked with disgust.
   "I don't know. Come one, let's refill this grave before the night gets on."
   Sly sighed and shoveled dirt into the open grave. When the work was done, he mopped sweat from his forehead and looked anxiously around the still graveyard. "It's awfully quiet," he remarked.
   "We're in a graveyard," Martin said, chuckling. "Did you expect there to be a party?"
   "It's too quiet," Sly insisted. "Something feels wrong."
   "Well maybe you ought to check it out," Martin said. He leaned against a nearby tree. "I'll wait here while you look around if you like."
   "Oh, sure. Fine," Sly said and started away from the older man. He had gone only a few short steps when he felt a chill run down his spine. He looked back at the newly-filled grave and shuddered, then resolutely turned his back and headed away toward the street.
   He walked for several minutes then paused, taking in his surroundings. He resolved to turn around after another five minutes; he had no desire to lose his way in a dark cemetery. After a moment he forced his feet to move again, and started forward at a slow trot. He skidded to a halt as he heard a dry crack in front of him and bright light flooded his vision.

****

   Elizabeth kicked her feet up on to Alexis' coffee table, and watched the woman walk hesitantly toward her. A small smile played across her lips. "You seem surprised to see me," she said to the attorney.
   "I wasn't expecting you so soon," Alexis said, settling beside her on the sofa. "I take it everything went as planned?"
   "Of course. They bought the whole thing."
   "Well, that's good," Alexis said. "Any regrets?"
   Elizabeth's face softened. "I feel bad for lying to Lucky. I wish there was some way around that--"
   "Only if you want to get killed," Alexis said hastily. "You know better than to underestimate a Cassadine."
   "Of course," Elizabeth said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "We wouldn't want to offend the dear Helena Cassadine."
   "Helena is the least of your worries," Alexis said. "You really should take this more seriously, Elizabeth. More than your life is at stake."
   "Oh, yeah, how could I forget? Your entire family legacy is resting on this. You precious psychotic family!"
   "This is serious," Alexis hissed. "If you want the plan to go as intended, you are going to have to listen to me, and do what I say." She paused and took a moment to assess Elizabeth carefully. "No arguments," she added.
   "So, what do I have to do?" Elizabeth asked with a sigh.
   "Well," Alexis responded. "You wanted to know what it was like to be a Cassadine, didn't you?" she asked. "Well, to really know what it's like to be Cassadine there is only one thing you *can* do."
   "And what's that?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly.
   "Become one."

****

   Lucky sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, the guitar Elizabeth had given him cradled in his lap. He stroked the wood surface gently, ignoring the tears coursing down his cheeks. He rocked the guitar in his arms, then heaved it across the room. He couldn't deny the satisfaction he felt at seeing the wood crack and splinter when it slammed into the wall.
   He stood and brushed a tear off his chin, then crossed over to the dresser and started to slam the drawers open. Finally his eyes fell on the item he wanted and he carefully removed the small pill bottle, clenching his fist around it. Lucky exhaled shakily and flipped the top of the aspirin bottle, then dumped the contents into his mouth. The bitter taste of the aspirin filled his mouth with overwhelming power, and he gagged.
   Lucky clasped a hand over his mouth, then quickly chewed the rest of the aspirin and swallowed. He wiped away more tears and walked to his closet. He stood before it for several minutes before finally opening the door. He reached in and withdrew a small shoe box. He smiled slightly and sat on the edge of his bed, then began to sift through the pictures and letters in the box. His hand touched lightly against cold metal, and Lucky grasped it and pulled his hand out to examine the object.
   It was an earring. Elizabeth's earring. Lucky struggled to remember when she had lost the earring, but his grief-stricken mind could not recall the time. His mind was flooded instead with memories from the night she had died. Lucky felt misery threaten to overcome him as he sank his head into his hands, sobbing bitterly, and remembered.

****

   Elizabeth grinned at Lucky as they walked out of the club. "Now tell me that wasn't the best time you ever had," Lucky said, and wrapped his coat around his date's thin shoulders.
   "I had a lot of fun, Lucky. I already told you that."
   "Yeah, but was it the *best* time you've ever had?"
   "Yes, Lucky," Elizabeth said with a laugh. "It was the *best* time I have ever had. I am *so* glad that you brought me here tonight."
   "I knew you would be," Lucky said, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Elizabeth gazed up at him and smiled sweetly. Lucky's heart skipped a beat, and it was all he could do to keep from crowing in delight. There was such ---trust--- in that look. He felt the same fear that always grabbed him when he was this close to Elizabeth,a and he pulled away.
   "What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked, sensing his sudden tension.
   "Nothing. We should probably get going," he said and turned away.
   "Lucky," Elizabeth said, turning him around to face her again. "Don't do this. You have to tell me what's bothering you."
   Lucky studied her face for a moment, then felt himself relax. Her expression alone was enough to calm his nerves. "I'm sorry," he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. He could feel her soft breath against his neck, and he gently turned her head to rest against his shoulder. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he whispered, and buried his face in the mass of curls atop her head.
   Elizabeth seemed to melt in his embrace. She turned her face up to his and traced her finger across his cheek. "Kiss me Spencer," she said lightly, and pulled him even closer.
   Lucky touched his lips to hers and fell into a sweet oblivion as the kiss deepened. He ran his fingers through her hair and absently twirled his finger around one of the curls, while his other hand remained pressed against the small of her back. As the kiss deepened, Lucky felt the familiar urge to go further, but pried his lips gently away from hers. He locked eyes with Elizabeth and felt the longing grow even stronger.
   "Elizabeth," he said.
   "Ssh," Elizabeth whispered, brushing his lips with her fingers. She leaned in for another kiss, but Lucky pushed her away gently.
   "There's something I need to tell you, Elizabeth," he said. "I know we're young," he continued. "I just barely turned sixteen. But lately, I've been feeling---I've got this feeling that we act a lot older than we are," he finished. Elizabeth watched silently, enthralled by the tone and rythm of his words. He shut his eyes and tried again to make the words come out. "What I'm trying to say Elizabeth, is that we feel things that people our age might not ordinarily feel. I mean, after what we've been through-"
   "Oh, Lucky, come on, get on with it," Elizabeth joked, and Lucky allowed himself a small smile.
   "What I want to say Elizabeth, is that I love you."
   Elizabeth stared into his eyes, tears sparkling suddenly in hers. She smiled and sighed heavily, collapsing in his arms.
   "Elizabeth?" Lucky asked, slightly concerned.
   "I love you too," Elizabeth whispered, rubbing the side of her head gently against his shoulder. A stray curl tickled the base of Lucky's neck gently, but he ignored it and tightened his hold on Elizabeth. The precious moment was suddenly disturbed by the sharp crack of erupting gunfire.
   "Elizabeth!" Lucky shouted, and pulled her down with him to the ground. The bullets whizzed over and around them in a dozen different direction, and Lucky shielded Elizabeth's body as best as he could with his own. Finally, after an agonizingly long time, the gunfire ceased and Lucky pulled slightly away from Elizabeth.
   She still leaned heavily against him, but there was something different about the pressure of her body. "Elizabeth?" Lucky asked, his voice worried and uncertain. "Elizabeth," he repeated more firmly, and he lifted her face to meet his gaze. Her hair had somehow come out of its clasp during the ordeal, and it now fanned across her eyes and forehead. Lucky brushed it aside and looked into Elizabeth's eyes.
   "Oh, god," he whispered, and clung tightly to Elizabeth. He rocked her gently, trying to block out the sound of her low moans and the quiet gurgling in her throat. "Don't, Elizabeth," he whispered in her ear. "You can't do this. Stop. Elizabeth! You're scaring me!" Lucky looked frantically into her pain filled eyes again. He sobbed at the misery he saw there, and shook her gently. "Elizabeth," he cried. He shrieked in pure misery as she sagged in his arms, the light fading from her eyes.

****

   Lucky felt his lower lip start to tremble and fought the urge to break down in sobs. He got unsteadily to his feet, and crossed again to the closet door. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and recoiled in alarm and disgust. He looked about as terrible as he felt. His red rimmed eyes stood out with horrible contrast to his deathly white face. He felt a sharp cramp rip through his stomach and he groaned, doubling over.
   The pain abated a little, and Lucky straightened, suddenly enraged. He selected a semi-heavy object off of his nightstand and hurled it at the mirror in front of him, then sank to the floor in a heap. Sobs wracked his body, and after a short while he succumbed to sleep.


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