| §*ß*§ Chapter Six §*ß*§ Christmas Future Helena was strolling through the empty hallways of her yacht, confident in her theory that she could simply avoid the Ghost of Christmas Future by keeping on the move, when she felt a dull rumbling in her stomach. She turned around and headed for the galley. Food would definitely settle her nerves. She needed something to distract her from her thoughts of Nikolas' cries as he saw the charred remains of Gia Campbell. As she pushed through the swinging door, she was greeted by the sight of the Ghost of Christmas Future, plopped comfortably atop her kitchen counter, gulping down a turkey and Provolone sandwich. "It just gets worse..." she muttered, resting her weary head against the door. She composed herself and entered. "I should have known that you would show up eventually. Haven't you always been my worst nightmare come true..." "This turkey is awful," he said, setting the half eaten sandwich on the counter beside him. Helena pulled a chair out from the table and sat, crossing one long leg over the other. She focused her gaze on the grain of the wooden table, wishing that this could all just be over. Luke, she could tolerate. Grace, she could ignore. But this visitor...she didn't know if she could do this again. It had been an annoying journey the first time, but at least she had been young then. Now, she was older and even less patient. "Why does it have to be you?" she asked finally. "Does anyone else despise you more than I, Mother?" Stefan replied, hopping down. "According to the criteria that your father gave me, of course, you would be the perfect person to revel in my pain, but, my problem lies in the YOU that they sent me," she complained. "Return and make them send someone else." "Why? To make things easier on you? Why would I EVER do that?" he snapped angrily. "Fine...if it has to be my second son, make them send the current version. At least he's reasonable. But you, YOU I would rather not see," Helena replied. She watched as he entered into his usual defiant pose. She sighed, knowing that the rest of this night was going to be horrible. Her final visitor was none other than Stefan, Circa 1970. He looked exactly as she remembered him, his slim teenage figure squeezed into a pair of tight white leather pants, the top three buttons of his white shirt open to reveal the chest he had just started to build. The goatee hadn't changed much in thirty years, but his hair was very different. She had hated that pony tail. It had seemed to her that he had grown it just to rile her, which it definitely had. He had kept it for at least two years as either some sort of teenage act of rebellion or out of pure stupidity. Helena had yet to figure which it was. She didn't really care, considering that she had taken it upon herself to fix the situation. A couple of careful snips with the scissors in the middle of the night had solved her problem. "It's time to go, Mother. I really don't want to waste anymore time with you than is absolutely necessary." Helena stood. "Fine," she said, circling him. She raked her hands through the ponytail bound at the nape of his neck, toying with it. "I told you that you would continue to have split ends if you kept using that Norwegian conditioner." Stefan turned around to face her. "When are you going to accept the fact that I don't listen to anything you have to say? No one does. Father humors you. The servants ignore you. I like to pretend you don't exist." "Pretend all you want, Darling," Helena said, licking her lips, "but that won't make it true. Besides, for people like you, those who already have a loose grip on reality, pretending will do nothing but cause you trouble. Now, let us proceed." Stefan rolled his eyes, casually walking towards the door at a leisurely pace. "It is my duty to show you what your future could be like if you don't change your psychotic ways. Only you have the power to decide what the real future holds. This is just a possible outcome," Stefan droned on in a bland, emotionless voice that illustrated how little he actually cared. "Thank you for the lecture, now snap your fingers and let's start." "Snap my fingers?" "How like you to not pay attention. Didn't the others teach you the little trick? You have to snap your fingers in order to transport us from one place to the other." "Oh...well, I happen to use another technique to transport-" "Well, whatever it is, DO IT! I swear, you waste more time talking than anyone else I have ever met!" "As you wish, Mother," he said, stomping on her foot as hard as he could. Helena gasped in pain, slumping to the ground to cradle her foot. As she did, the entire room filled with a bright light. Blinded, she shielded her eyes trying to make out what was happening. The light started to dim, and Stefan pulled her up. "How did I do?" Helena yanked her arm away. She hobbled around, surveying the room they were in. She couldn't identify it. "Where are we?" "The future." "My, aren't you clever..." Helena retorted with obvious distaste. She looked around the small room which was decorated for the Christmas holiday. She fingered the festive garland that was draped over the door frame. She turned back to her son. "Considering the pastels and the furniture, this appears to be an office of some sort..." "And?" "And, I'm waiting for you to fill in the details." "I could just tell you...but where's the fun in that? You fancy yourself an intelligent woman, why don't you fill in the details on your own," Stefan replied with a sneer as he flipped through a magazine. The door opened. An extremely attractive woman in a doctor's coat came swiftly in, followed by two other women and a man. The doctor sat down behind her desk and started pulling out folders. The older of the other two women stepped forward. She wore a simple black suit, with her blond hair tied neatly back. "Where is my son?" "Laura?" Helena muttered, turning to take a better look. "My, haven't you aged. Look at your precious Lasha, now, Stefan. Be thankful you escaped her clutches..." "I'm only sixteen, Mother. I have yet to meet Lasha. I know that dementia is creeping in, but do try to at least pretend to be lucid," Stefan smiled coldly, leaning on the corner of the desk. "Besides, I think she's a rather attractive woman..." "No one cares what you think..." The doctor looked up sadly, she shook her head in dismay, saying, "Really, Mrs. Spencer, I wish I knew, but I don't. He's gone." "What the hell do you mean he's gone?!" Lucky practically shouted,unbuttoning his suit jacket and sitting in the chair in front of the massive oak desk. "Calm down, Lucky," Elizabeth warned, trying to ease her pregnant girth down into the chair next to him. "Let Dr. Locke explain." Livvie licked her lips, leaning back in her lilac leather chair. "Sometime, early this morning, Nikolas left the hospital." "Left the hospital," Laura parroted, her rage building. "What do you mean he 'left' the hospital? This is not a spa, Livvie. People don't just LEAVE! Where was security? Where were the nurses? Where were you?" "Despite you and your family's beliefs, I do have other patients to attend to." "Which means you weren't paying attention to my brother when he decided to disappear?" Lucky interjected. "It's Christmas. I'm on vacation. But, as his primary physician, I was notified immediately after he was found to be missing. We have all of our available staff, as well the local police looking for Nikolas. He will be found." Laura began to pace nervously. "I can only pray that he will....So, do you at least know how he...escaped, if that's the right word..." "Escaped," Elizabeth said uncomfortably, "that makes him sound like a fugitive from justice. He didn't do anything wrong. The police do know that, don't they? That he's not a criminal...I mean, what if they're out there with guns..." Lucky covered his hand with her own. "I'm sure that they are aware of what they're dealing with." "I hope you're right." "Lucky, Elizabeth, Mrs. Spencer, there is no concern there. This situation is being handled delicately. As for how Nikolas managed to allude security and leave the premises, we are still at a loss. I can't imagine how he could of done it...unless he had help of some kind." Laura stopped pacing, lifting her eyebrow as she said, "Help?" "That's a long shot. I doubt anyone on staff would have been so reckless as to help Nikolas flee." "In Nikolas' current state of mind, that would be more than just reckless. The last time we came to visit..."Lucky started, his voice trailing off as an unpleasant memory came to haunt him. "I know that the last visit was difficult for all of you, but I do hope that you realize that it's not your fault that I had to restrict visitation to only Elizabeth, Emily, Alexis, and Lesley Lu. Everyone else's presence only agitated his condition and deepened his delusion." "I don't see how seeing his mother isn't good for him, Livvie. I really have never understood your reasoning," Laura said, near tears. "It's been years since I've even been able to see him." Livvie stood, coming around her desk to join the group. "It wasn't my intention to shut you out for so long, but you, your son, his uncle...all of you, your presence in his life brings a reasonable truth to Nikolas' delusion. After twelve years, he still fervently believes that Gia Campbell will rise from the dead and he will be reunited with his true love. Now, the fact that so many of his family members have been presumed dead, only to turn up years later, is most likely the basis of his fantasy and inability to accept that Gia is dead. I know he loves you, but his psychotic behavior is heightened whenever he sees you. That's why I've disallowed visitation." "In other words," Lucky said bitterly, rising from his chair, "we give him a reason to hope and that's the last thing you want. You think if you pump him full of enough drugs, that eventually you'll be able to squeeze all the hope out of him and make him think what you want him to think. But don't count on it, Dr. Locke. As you can see, my brother is a fighter. And even if he is sick, I'd rather he be sick than bereft of any hope for happiness." "Nikolas is more than just sick, Lucky. He is suffering from paranoid delusions and he is not taking his medication. He is dangerous. Do you understand what that means? Dangerous, Lucky! Not just to others, but to himself as well." Laura started to cry and Elizabeth slipped a comforting arm around her shoulder. Lucky closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to drive down the panic that was racing through his body. "What do we do, now?" As Helena listened to the conversation, she paled. She turned to Stefan, who was only half-listening to what was occurring. "What is wrong with my grandson, Stefan?" she demanded, nervously rubbing her neck. "Why is he in this...place?" "Actually, Mother, he's not in this place. He's escaped." "Must you always state the obvious?" "Must you always be so rude? Your harsh tone might have hurt my feelings. Did you ever think of that?" "You should know by now that I don't care about your feelings. Now, tell me what is going on," Helena said, trying to look at the papers on Dr. Locke's desk. Stefan managed to push them out of her reach before replying, “It’s a very sad story. Young Nikolas was so scarred by the death of his beloved Gia, that he found it impossible to accept a reality without her. And so, his mind, desperate to protect itself from yet another tragic loss, developed a fantasy where she wasn't actually dead, and would, one day reappear so that they could live happily ever after." "Why on earth would he think that Gia would come back?" "Hmmm....well, thanks to you and the rest of his demented family, it seems like a sound assumption. His mother returned from the dead, as did Katherine--not one of your more sound ideas, Mother--his brother, and even my older self. I seriously can't wait for my own resurrection. That ought to be fun...Of course, any event that brings you closer to the destruction you deserve is always fun." "You do prattle on so, even now. I wish that was one trait you had outgrown." "Only because you know that I'm right. If Nikolas is insane, it's only because you drove him to it. You interfered in his life until you destroyed it. You killed his true love-" "Gia Campbell was not his true love!" Helena snapped, moving past Lucky to stand before her son. "That girl was trash...certainly not good enough for Nikolas. Even you knew that!" "Which me? Old me? I don't think I, sixteen or middle aged, would ever try to pass judgment on love. Having had so little of it, I wholeheartedly encourage people to hold onto anything that makes them feel good about being alive. Gia loved Nikolas and she certainly didn't deserve to die." "What do you know about anything?!" "I know that you've destroyed Stavros' son as you destroyed him. Nikolas' insane, Mother. And he's missing," Stefan said in a condemning tone. Helena turned her back, focusing on the wall above Laura's head. She could feel flutters in her chest as she worried about her grandson. How could this have happened? She thought back to how distraught he had been at the scene of the car accident. She breathed in deeply, trying to convince herself that none of this was real, yet knowing that these events were a possibility. "This future can be changed, can it not?" "Yes, it can be, but you'd have to be willing to think about someone other than yourself." "What can I do to stop Nikolas from being committed?" "Let's see...you've already killed Gia in the present. That can't be changed. But, you could confess to her murder and allow yourself to be punished. Such a gesture might be enough to help Nikolas come to terms with the trauma," Stefan said, standing up and moving towards the door. He leaned against the wall beside his mother. "It might even stop what I'm going to show you next." "What? There's more?" "You want to see where Nikolas is spending Christmas Eve, don't you? It's important for you to see the impact you've had on people, the destruction you've brought...the lengths you've driven them to..." "Take me to Nikolas." Stefan stomped on Helena's other foot. "As you wish." |