Chapter Two: Nikolas
As Nikolas walked into one of the many parlors of Wyndemere, he knew immediately that something wasn't right. There was just one problem: he couldn't figure out what it was.
He stood in the middle of the room, turning slowly so that he could get a good look at his surroundings. All of the plush chairs and couches were in their place. The priceless rugs on the floor didn't have so much as a coffee stain on them. The curtains were open, revealing a cloudless night, the stars and moon shining brightly in the sky. Every book was just where he had left it, gathering dust from lack of being read. The little knick-knacks that he and generations of Cassadines had acquired in their long history remained in their proper places, some useless and others a bit frightening. The lamp on the desk shone dimly on his many papers and files, not one of them out of place.
Nikolas took a closer look at everything. No drawers were even the slightest bit open, there wasn't a scratch to be seen on the wood floors, and the windows were as clear as if there was nothing there. Everything was as it should be. So why did he get the feeling that there was something wrong?
"Are you looking for something?" asked a voice. Nikolas looked up to see Claudia at the door, quite a sight to behold. She looked exactly like she had when they had first met. She was wearing black jeans, a white top, and a black jacket, her shirt stained with blood on her abdomen. She was soaking wet, from her head to her toes, but she didn't seem to notice her current state of disaster. In fact, she looked genuinely concerned about what Nikolas was trying to find.
Nikolas shook his head, trying to get back to the matter at hand. Claudia didn't seem bothered by the blood on her shirt, and Nikolas had more important things to worry about. "Yes," he said, walking over to her. "Something's not right, and I need to figure out what it is."
"Something's not right with what?" asked Claudia, taking one step through the door.
"This room," said Nikolas, gesturing about himself. "There's something off about it. Can't you tell?"
Claudia looked around, as Nikolas had, trying to see what he was talking about. "I don't see anything wrong."
"I don't know how to explain it," said Nikolas. "Everything's where I left it, but something's just…I don't know…out of place."
"Hmm," said Claudia thoughtfully, walking around. Nikolas watched her like a hawk as she circled each chair, peeked behind the curtains, and looked over his desk. But she seemed just as baffled as him.
"Anything?" he asked hopefully.
Claudia shook her head. "No. But I see what you mean. There is something here that seems like it doesn't belong."
Nikolas was glad that someone else could see it, even someone as crazy as Claudia. "But what, though? What could it be?"
Claudia shrugged. "I don't know. Ask Sonny."
Nikolas just stared at her. What had she said? "Ask Sonny? Why?"
"Or Jason," Claudia answered, still looking around and ignoring his question. "I'm sure they'll know what to do."
"Why would I ask either one of them?" Nikolas questioned, growing concerned. "How would they know?"
"They'd be able to fix it," Claudia answered with confidence. "They fix everything. All you have to do is ask them."
"But I don't want to ask Jason or Sonny," Nikolas insisted fervently, and as the word came out of his mouth, he realized that he didn't understand them. He wasn't exactly on good terms with Port Charles's biggest mobsters, but this was something else. He had a feeling inside him that he couldn't tell Jason or Sonny, that if he did, they would make the problem worse, not better. He thought of other people he could ask: Lucky, Lulu, Alfred, Elizabeth…but he didn't want to ask them either. He wanted the answer from Claudia, but he couldn't explain why. He wasn't overly fond of her, and they'd only really exchanged words a few times. Why did he need for her to tell him what was going on? Why couldn't he ask anyone else, especially Jason and Sonny?
"I think you should ask them," said Claudia. "They'll make the problem go away. They always do."
"But if I tell them, they'll kill me," said Nikolas, once again not understanding the words that came out of his mouth. Why would Sonny and Jason kill him? He hadn't done anything. But he kept talking, having no control over his words. "It was all my fault. I caused the problem."
"No, you didn't," said Claudia. "I did, and I'm gonna help you fix it."
"But I thought you wanted Jason and Sonny to fix it," said Nikolas, confused.
"I do," Claudia agreed. "But you don't, so I'll help you. It's my fault anyway."
For some reason, Nikolas couldn't argue with what she said. Instead he suggested, "Let's look at everything together. Maybe we can figure something out that way."
"We don't need to do that," said Claudia. Nikolas looked at her closely, and saw that her eyes had glazed over, like she was in another world. "I know what's wrong. You just weren't looking hard enough."
Nikolas couldn't stay on her train of thought. She was raving like a crazy person, which, in fact, she was. "But you said you didn't know what was wrong."
"I know," said Claudia, "but I figured it out."
"Okay," said Nikolas, anxious for answers. "What is it?"
Claudia turned away from him, facing the desk. "The lamp."
That wasn't what Nikolas was hoping for. "The lamp? The lamp is fine. It's always been there."
"No, it's out of place," Claudia insisted, walking over to it. "It's not supposed to be on. It's supposed to be dark in here." She reached out her hand and pulled the chain under the shade, plunging her and Nikolas into total darkness.
Nikolas breathed a sigh of relief. Claudia had been right. The lamp wasn't supposed to be on. The room needed to be pitch black. If it wasn't, then everything would change, it seemed. The balance of the world would be thrown off. The light needed to be off.
But even as Nikolas contemplated this, another thought popped into his head. He didn't like the room to be dark. Everything was in its place when it was, yes, but he didn't like it. He liked the light. It didn't fit in with everything else, but it needed to be there. It needed to shine. He didn't know what he would do without it.
"Turn the light back on," he ordered Claudia.
Nothing happened. He didn't hear Claudia shift to follow his commands, and the room remained dark. "I said, turn the lamp on, Claudia."
"No," she said simply. "No one likes the light."
"I do," Nikolas implored. "I love the light. It's not supposed to be here, but I love it. Please, turn it on."
"No one likes the light but us," said Claudia, and Nikolas heard a strain in her voice that wasn't there before. "When I turn the light on, everybody hates me."
"I don't," said Nikolas, meaning it. "I like you when the light is on." As the last word rolled off his tongue, the room was illuminated by the lamp's glow. Nikolas had the feeling of something being out of place again, but he didn't mind it this time.
*
Nikolas awoke with a start. That had been one of the weirdest dreams he'd ever had, and after all those visions of Emily after she died, that was saying something. What was with Claudia, her shirt all bloodied and her body soaking wet? And the lamp? What was that all about?
Nikolas opened his eyes all the way, and realized that he had fallen asleep at his desk, his work, half-finished, laying out in front of him. The black ink on the papers jumped out at him instantly, and he was hit with a sudden bolt of memory and realization.
The night when Claudia had washed up on Spoon Island penetrated his brain, his mental wall unable to block it out. She had been high on meds, exhaustion, and pain, and she had uttered her darkest secret: she had ordered the hit on Sonny that had gotten Michael shot instead. And Nikolas had revealed something that night as well: he had been using Ian Devlin to get illegal drugs that would let him see his beautiful Emily. He had promised to keep her secret, for fear of Jason or Sonny finding out about his. That explained why, in his dream, he hadn't wanted to get them involved in the situation. But why had the light been the problem? And what did Claudia have to do with anything.
The truth slowly and painfully made its way to the surface of his brain. While he'd never admit it to anybody, there had been some attraction between him and Claudia while she had healed here. He had seen a side of her that he didn't think was possible in anyone of her position. She had joked, laughed, and even tried to help him when he had fallen off his horse, despite her own tender injuries. There was a light in that dark soul, but no one seemed to want to believe that it was there, especially her.
Nikolas shoved the dream to the side, focusing his thoughts mainly on Claudia. While she may have deserved what was coming to her, he wished that people had gotten a chance to see her light before they dismissed her as a lying and conniving slut. Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe she'd still be alive.
And maybe (and this thought surprised him completely) they would have been able to continue from where they left off.
