Cold. She was so cold. And where was Lucky? She knew he could make her feel warm again, if only he was here with her. He would wrap his arms around her and hold her close, and make her feel safe and warm. She remembered how happy she felt when she had seen Lucky pull up across the street from the penthouse. She remembered waving to him and smiling, reaching up to give Sonny a quick kiss, and stepping off the curb to meet Lucky. And then it happened. She heard Sonny call her name, felt him reach for her, heard Lucky's voice from a distance, yelling her name. She sensed the presence behind her, knew it was not Sonny, and in a swift movement she felt the hard metal object as it was shoved in her side. She heard the muffled sound as the gun fired, and felt the warm, sticky blood as it began to run down her body.
She turned to find Lucky, trying to call to him, but no words would come. She remembered Sonny's arms catching her as she fell, just as they had the night of the fire, the night she thought she had lost Lucky forever. This can't be happening she screamed, but she could not hear her own voice and no one was listening. She was so confused. Where was Lucky? She tried to find him, her eyes darting everywhere, but all she could see was Sonny, holding her, trying to comfort her while yelling for someone to help, yelling for Lucky..
She didn't remember anything else until they were lifting her into the ambulance. Sonny was right there, holding her hand, telling her everything would be all right. But how could everything be all right? Lucky wasn't there. Where was he? She tried to ask Sonny, but he wouldn't answer her. Lucky had just been there, where could he have gone? He would never leave knowing she was hurt, not willingly. Maybe he had gone to get help. That was it. She tried to tell Sonny, grabbing at his arms frantically, pleading, "Sonny, they have to wait for Lucky to get here. He's just gone for help. He'll be here. I know he will. He won't know where I am if they don't wait. Please Sonny!!" But she knew he couldn't hear her because she couldn't hear her own voice, and Sonny kept whispering that everything would be all right, to just hang on.
Now she seemed to be floating above a hospital room, looking down on herself lying in the hospital bed. It was such a strange sensation. She saw Bobbie come in and take her pulse and her blood pressure, and make some adjustments to the tubes in her arms. She saw Jason sitting by her bed, and saw Bobbie touch his arm briefly and shake her head as she left the room. Jason looked so sad, sitting with his head in his hands, occasionally glancing up to look at her. Why was he here? She didn't understand what was going on. Sonny and Luke had been there earlier; they seemed to be taking turns staying with her, and she could hear them whispering, but she could not understand what they were saying.
She had read about this in books, seen it in movies, how a person sometimes leaves his body and becomes an observer. They said it sometimes happened before people died. Oh God, was she going to die? She couldn't die without seeing Lucky again. She had to live, to get better, so she could find him, so she could help him, so she could tell him how much she loved him. Something had to have happened to him and she knew it had to be Faison. She had to fight, she had to will herself to live so she could find Lucky.
In the nearly constant darkness, Lucky had developed a keen sense of smell. At first he had smelled only the sterile, antiseptic smell of the stark, metal room and not much else. He had been in the room for several days by his calculations, although he could not be sure since Faison had taken his watch from him the first day. But he based the passage of time on how often he was brought food, food that he was mostly unable to eat. He ate only enough to keep up his strength. He would need his strength to escape, which he had every intention of doing. He knew, unlike the last time Faison had him in this room, that he would escape this time. He had to get to Elizabeth. He also knew that he was still in Port Charles, and had been in Port Charles most of the time Faison had him imprisoned before. They had only driven a short distance before he blindfolded him and led him to this room. It had been a long walk, and he knew that had to be a clue. He just had to think.
He was lying on the cot, in the dark, dozing reluctantly, feeling colder than he had ever felt in his life. He dreamt of Elizabeth and the time they had spent in Sonny's penthouse, but his dreams always ended with the scene in front of the penthouse, watching her fall to the ground. He always awoke with a start, wishing Faison would return and give him news about Elizabeth. He needed to know that she was still all right. He needed her to make him feel warm again.
As he awoke, he realized that he had identified a new smell, one that seemed strangely familiar, yet he could not define it. It reminded him of something, but he could not put his finger on it.
He had not seen Faison for several days, not since he had given him his assignment…to kill his father. Lucky laughed bitterly at the notion. Kill my father? Did Faison think he was as insane? As insane as he himself was? He had to know thta Lucky would never kill his father. He would kill Faison first, if it meant saving his father's life. If it meant saving his own life. But he was no longer afraid of Faison.
Lucky heard the familiar sound of the door to the room sliding open as the lights came on. He smiled to himself at the thought that Faison would not be prepared for the Lucky he was about to meet.