Luke could barely take his eyes off of the boy sitting in the chair across from him. His son, alive and here with him like he had imagined so many times. Lucky looked pretty good considering the past year he had spent. His hair was longer, but it looked like it had been kept trimmed, and he had filled out considerably. He was a little pale, though, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Luke wondered how long it had been since the boy had slept.
As if he had read his father's mind, Lucky smiled and said, "I must look like a vampire or something. I haven't been outside in the sun for almost a year. There was a window high up in the first room they had me in. Sometimes I would lie on the floor and look at that tiny piece of sky..." He broke off, a little embarassed at the emotion in his own voice.
"You look great to me, man." That was a major understatement, but Luke let it go at that.
"What are we going to do now, Dad?" It felt so incredibly good to Lucky to be able to say those words. He had been alone in his plight for so long, and he had done well at planning and executing his escape, and he was proud of his independence, but it was great to be able to lean on his father now.
"You're not going to believe I'm saying this," began Luke. "In fact, I don't believe I'm saying it....But I think we should call Mac."
"Mac Scorpio?" Lucky shared his father's distrust of police, and the PCPD in particular. "You want to involve....cops??"
"I know, it's not the Spencer way," agreed Luke, "But this time I think it's the way to go. We don't know how many people Helena's got working for her running around looking for you."
"So..." said Lucky, "we leave this up to the police?"
"Well, not completely," answered Luke. "But we can start there."
Lucky nodded. "Okay, if you think that's the thing to do, I won't argue." He yawned hugely. "But can we do it tomorrow? I haven't slept in...I don't know when the last time I slept was."
"You bet," Luke got up and began making a bed for his son on the couch. "I hope you don't mind staying here tonight, I think it would be safer."
"No problem," said Lucky, already stretching out on the makeshift bed, and pulling a blanket over himself. "It will be nice to sleep in my own bed when I go home. I haven't slept in my old room in a long time."
"Uh, son, about your old room...." Luke began. "Oh, never mind."
Lucky's eyes were already starting to droop. "It's good to be home...I love you Dad," he murmured, as he drifted off.
Fresh tears sprang to Luke's eyes. "I love you too son." Then he did something he hadn't done for years. He tucked the blanket around Lucky's shoulders and smoothed his hair back from his forehead. "Night, Cowboy."
Luke didn't sleep. He spent the whole night just watching his son sleep, and learning to believe in miracles.