Little Sister

Chapter Nine: Low Place Like Home

Pain.

It was the first thing Alexis felt as she struggled to consciousness. The fear, the panic, the confusion all came rushing in an instant later, but her first thought was that she felt like she had the world's worst hangover. Slowly, her eyes opened to take in her surroundings. She gasped and sat up on the bed she was apparently laying on, causing another wave of pain, her head throbbing. But the hurt did not distract her from the realization of exactly where she was. It had been so many years, but she still recognized her surroundings.

She was in her old room, in the dark, gothic mansion that passed for a home. She was on Cassadine Island.

The names of her family members burst in her head like explosions – Stefan, Sam, Kristina, Molly, Nikolas, Spencer – and she stood, fighting against the dizziness and the urge to be sick, thinking distractedly that whatever drugs Valentin had used on her must have been quite powerful. She walked unsteadily but determinedly to the door – of course it was locked, and she struggled futilely with the handle – trying to fight the rising fear, a panic bordering on hysteria. Breathe, just breathe. She must not allow herself to be afraid.

But she couldn't help it. She felt caught in an old trap, one she thought she'd escaped from years ago. The only good memories she had of her time here all revolved around Stefan. Everything else was darkness, pain, fear –

"Mom? Mom?'

She instantly recognized the overlapping voices of her two younger daughters, on the other side of the door. "Kristina! Molly!" She struggled harder with the door, trying to fight the anger, fear, and frustration that were threatening to overwhelm her. "Girls, it's – it's okay, just listen to my voice! Can you –"

"Natasha, get back! I'm bustin' through the door!" Never in her life had she so glad to hear Luke Spencer's voice; she nearly sobbed with relief at the sound. She backed away, and there was a loud thump as the door swung open, nearly coming off its hinges. Kristina and Molly ran to their mother, and the three of them cried with joy and relief in each other's arms. The girls seemed disheveled and exhausted, but mercifully, miraculously, unhurt.

"Come on girls, we have to move!" Luke Spencer didn't begrudge them their reunion, but survival trumped sentiment any day of the week. "Follow me, okay?"

"Luke, what happened? The last thing I remember-" The images were hazy. "Who else is here? Who else does Valentin have?"

"Well, according to the bragging he did when he had me chained up this time, just about everyone he's related to. Nik and the kid, Sam-"

"Sam?" Her daughters chorused fearfully.

"But it looks like I'm the only Spencer he managed to get," Luke finished. There was a faint note of pride in his voice for his family. Apparently, he felt the Spencers were too clever to be captured, but Alexis thought it much more likely Valentin was simply eliminating the stronger adversaries before picking off the weaker ones. She was smart enough not to share this theory with Luke, however, especially since he was rescuing her.

"I found these two locked in another room in this mausoleum and busted them out. We found some food and water, and I tried to calm them down. I promised them we'd find you. And uh, also, I kinda explained to them what's going on. I didn't mean to overstep, I know it's not my place, but they needed to know –"

Alexis released her girls, strode over to Luke, and planted a full-on kiss on his mouth. Unlike the kiss he'd given her that morning when he returned, it was neither brief nor chaste. She heard Kristina and Molly gasp in surprise, but she didn't care. She pulled away and had the briefest moment of pleasure when she saw his shocked expression.

"Thank you for taking care of my daughters." Luke grinned at her, in that way of his that he thought made him look cute.

"Oh Natasha, if only this weren't such a bad time …" He teased, stroking her face. He was only half-joking, and Alexis knew it.

When and if he found out she'd helped Stefan fake his death, and subsequently allowed Luke to be charged with his murder, she'd be willing to bet he would no longer be so flirtatious.

Now was not the time to worry about that, however. "Luke, where are the others?"

"That's what we're gonna find out. You still know all the inns and outs of this place, Natasha?" She nodded.

"Some things you never forget." If he caught the ominous tone in her voice, he chose to ignore it.

"That's my girl." He took her hand, leading her out of the room, bellowing "Come on kids! Keep up!" as Kristina and Molly stared dazedly after them, somehow feeling slightly less scared after the bizarre scene they'd just witnessed.

"That was so … weird," Molly breathed. And after going to bed in her own home and waking up in place that looked like it came straight out of one of her Gothic Victorian novels, that was saying a lot.

"Yeah, I always thought Mr. Spencer kinda had a thing for mom, I just didn't know she um, reciprocated?" Kristina's reply came out more like a question. Molly's eyes lit up.

"Maybe it's not so weird, then. Maybe that's why they're always verbally sparring – you know, like Benedict and Beatrice in 'Much Ado About Nothing?'"

"Oh, will you can it with the literary references!"

"Excuse me! Are you two coming, or are you gonna stay in there and dissect your mother's love life?"

"I don't have a love life!"

Luke grinned again. "Well, if you want one –"

"Oh shut up! You're married and I'm – not that desperate!" That was the last she ever expressed her gratitude to him with anything other than a "thank you." That smug, arrogant, smarmy son of a …

"Girls, come on. Mr. Spencer is very annoying, but he knows what he's doing…. I think." With this dubious reassurance, the girls finally followed.

***

"Time to wake up, Samantha."

That voice … it was familiar. It was the last thing she'd heard before she lost consciousness – and it had that same tone of cruel amusement that made her want to recoil in fear and disgust. She didn't want to face the owner of that voice, but she knew she had to.

Sam opened her eyes. "Hello, Uncle Valentin."

His hair was black, like hers, and ever-so-slightly streaked with gray; she was, he thought, probably a few years older than her mother. His skin was swarthy, and his features made her guess that his mother had been Greek – apparently, Mikkos had chosen a mistress that was within easy reach of home. Unlike Stefan and Stavros, he was clean-shaven, and his eyes were a deep, striking blue. He would have been handsome, really, if it were not for the look she saw in those eyes.

Insanity. It was the first thing that came to mind, looking in those eyes of his, facing an expression that was somewhere between a sneer and a snarl. He must be clever, he must have resources, to bring her here, wherever they were, so he must have some sort of presence of mind. But she couldn't deny what she saw. People had always told her all of the Cassadines were tinged with madness, and now, looking into the eyes of Valentin, she believed them.

Those mad eyes lit up with glee when she spoke his name, and the smile that was not a smile widened; the effect was not pleasant. "You know who I am."

"Yes I do," Sam said, fighting to keep her voice and her gaze steady. More than ever, she was glad she had made the decision to follow her mother to St. Petersburg. Although her current situation certainly wasn't good, it would have been that much worse he she had no idea who had taken her, and why. "Do you know who I am?"

It was a stupid question, but she was stalling, struggling against the ropes that bound her arms and legs to the chair, her eyes darting around the dark room, looking for a means of escape. In response to her question, her threw back his head and laughed.

"Of course I know who you are! Samantha, the first bastard brat of my bastard little sister. Oh, please don't take offense," he added mockingly. "You see, I'm a bastard too, and like you, I was cast out of the Cassadine fold at birth. We have so much in common," he leered, her face close to his. Sam shuddered and turned away. "It's almost a pity you won't be alive long enough for us to compare notes."

Sam turned to glare at him. "If you kill me, I swear, Jason Morgan will –"

"Ah yes, Mr. Morgan! Your mobster boyfriend. Mobster… is that the right term? I can never remember all these quaint little American expressions. But he's not your first of that ilk, is he? Didn't you also bed Sonny Corinthos, your mother's former lover, and miscarry his child?" He saw the pain in Sam's eyes at the mention of her dead daughter, and it only added to his amusement. "Oh come now, dear Samantha, it was really for the best, wasn't it? Just think of the twisted familial relationships that would've ensued, it would have been almost … incestuous."

His eyes locked with hers, and again, Sam was overcome by the image to turn away, but she fought it. "You know," he continued thoughtfully, "You don't look a thing like your mother. In fact, you … do you know who you look like? Like –"

"You're wrong, little brother." Valentin's head whipped around to see him standing there, dressed in black, as always, and with a gun in his hand. "She resembles her mother in one aspect, at least. She has her mother's eyes."

With a cry of pure rage, Valentin launched himself at Stefan, and soon both of them were struggling for control of the gun. Meanwhile, Sam worked frantically against her bonds, finally managing to untie her hands, and then her feet. Valentin was bearing down on Stefan, and she struck him from behind in the exact spot Jason had once shown her. It worked; he fell to the floor, unconscious, as Stefan lowered the gun.

He looked at Sam with an expression she couldn't fathom. She swallowed, remembering the look of horror in his eyes when Alexis had told him about her. But he had also just helped to save her, she reminded herself. And she had seen how much he loved her mother, and how much she loved him. If she had to choose between him and Valentin … well, there was no choice. "Are you alright?" He asked her.

"Yeah, I'm – I'm okay."

"Samantha McCall."

"Yes. And you're Stefan Cassadine."

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

"I …" She wasn't sure what to say, but as it turned out, it didn't matter. She saw his expression change as he realized the truth.

"That day in the church … that was you." Stefan shook his head. "And all this time, I thought it was one of Valentin's men… how much did you hear?"

"I don't think that's important right now," Samantha said, meeting his gaze defiantly. She wasn't her mother; she wasn't going to give him information simply because he demanded it.

Even if she couldn't deny that she found him intimidating.

"I think it is."

"Well, I don't care!" She shouted. "We need to get out of … where are we?"

"On Cassadine Island, in the house that your mother and I grew up in … the house that Valentin here was apparently never allowed to set foot in."

"Makes sense," Sam said softly. She looked down at his unconscious form.

"You should go, Samantha." She looked back up at him, surprised. "Wait for me outside the room, and then we'll find the others. I'm sure he's taken more of the family than just you."

"Are you going to kill him?"

Stefan swallowed. "Yes."

"You can't – "

"Why? Did you want to do the honors?"

She looked at him incredulously. "How dare you –"

"How dare I? Your lover is a hit man, Samantha, I hardly think you are entitled to take the moral high ground here! Would you prefer I had let him kill you? And your mother, and your sisters?"

"There – there has to be another way –"

They were interrupted by three armed men bursting into the room. Stefan grabbed Sam's arm and pulled her across the room, touching a seemingly random place on the wall, which sprung open to reveal a secret passageway.

They ran through the opening, which closed just in time, though they could hear Valentin's men yelling and pounding futilely on the other side. Like his sister, Stefan remembered all the secrets of this house, secrets that Valentin never had the opportunity to learn. Sam looked around, trying to catch her breath.

"This is just like Wyndemere."

"Why do you think I bought Spoon Island in the first place?" She didn't think Stefan would have been the sentimental type, especially not after what she'd just witnessed. It was disturbing to think he'd been about to kill Valentin, but it was even more disturbing that she couldn't exactly fault his reasons for wanting to do so. Killing, not out of malice, but of necessity – wasn't that what Jason had always done?

"So … what do we do now?" Sam asked him.

"Now, you tell me why you're not rotting six feet under, Cassadine, since you're supposed to be dead. And tell me why I shouldn't fix that little problem by killing you … again." Stefan and Sam whirled around to see Alexis, Kristina, Molly … and Luke Spencer, glaring with shock and hatred at the one Cassadine he hadn't quite managed to kill.

*Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews, and sorry I haven't had time to respond to the unsigned ones; please know all your comments are appreciated. Keep reading!*