part two
"Lucas!" Tim O'Neil called him back from the darkness of his nightmare. Feeling the Lieutenant's hand shaking his shoulder, Lucas sat up and blinked his eyes, trying to dispel the haunting images that had invaded his sleep. " Lucas, are you okay?" Tim asked, genuinely concerned for his friend's well-being. He had been coming to the moon pool to relax after his shift and walked in on Lucas thrashing about and muttering, his head on the work table in front of him.
"Yeah, Tim," Lucas replied, running his hands through his hair, trying to calm his racing heart. "I was just having a nightmare."
"Must have been a doozie." Tim took a closer look at the young scientist, noticing the beads of sweat on his forehead and his rapid breathing. "Lucas, do you... do you want to talk about it?"
"No, Tim, I don't want to talk about it!" Lucas exploded, his bottled up frustration and stress directing itself at the innocent communications officer. "Why is everyone always sticking their noses into my business? What I dream is my personal information!" Lucas knew that he was misdirecting his anger, but at the time he didn't care.
Tim stood there for a moment, his mouth open in shock. Then his eyes clouded over with hurt and he moved to go. "Lucas- soon you're going to have to realize that you actually do need people to get through life, and like it or not, you're stuck with us. We care about you, Lucas, but I'm afraid that if you don't realize it soon, you might just find yourself all alone, and for once you won't want to be."
Lucas slammed the door to his quarters. He was glad that Tony wasn't in their room. It wasn't that he didn't want Tony to know what had happened- he was sure the entire boat would know before evening mess- he just didn't want to explain what had happened. He was so confused; he was mad, first of all; mad that Tim had witnessed his nightmare, mad that he had fallen asleep in such a public place, and mad that he had blown up at the lieutenant. He understood that he had just alienated probably the nicest person on the ship, someone who possibly could have helped him out. He was alone, and for the first time, it was not a feeling he enjoyed.
He stopped pacing and flopped down in his desk chair. Taking a deep breath and running his hands through his hair, he tried to calm down and taking inventory of what he was feeling. His gaze fell on the rectangular picture frame on the edge of his messy desk. He picked it up, running his fingers over the woman's face.
"Oh, mom," he whispered, feeling the tears come once again. "Why did you try to protect me?" He wiped angrily at the wetness on his cheek. "If you had only listened to them..."
Tony Picollo smiled as he untangled himself from his headset. Another boring shift over. Now he could go back to his quarters and finally take a look at that new vid he had picked up on his last shore leave... As he stood up, his stomach let out a low growl in protest of his negligence. Well, he thought, a stop at mess couldn't hurt.
His tray loaded down with food, Tony circled the mess hall until he found Tim and Miguel Ortiz seated in the back. ""Hey, guys! Is this a beautiful day or what?"
"What are you talking about, Tony?" Miguel answered, fully aware of Tony's oblivion to the scowl on Tim's usually smiling face.
"I just think that it's a beautiful, sunny day, that's all."
"Tony, we're on a sub. There's no sun on a sub. Every day is like this."
"Miguel, has anyone ever called you a party pooper?"
"Not to my face," Miguel grinned.
Tony went to make another smart comeback when he finally noticed Tim's sour expression. "What crawled up his butt?"
Tim glanced at Tony, sending him a look of death before returning to his contemplation of the complex make-up of his coffee.
"Tim had a... run-in with Lucas earlier this morning," Miguel answered delicately.
"What do you mean, 'run-in'"
"Guys," Tim suddenly spoke up. "Do you ever wonder if Lucas is happy here?" Miguel and Tony exchanged confused glances.
"Well," Tony supplied, "I guess I never really though about it before; I just assumed-"
"Yeah, so did I," Tim interrupted quietly. "We all did."
"Tim, what are you rambling about?"
"All I'm saying is that none of Lucas' friends never asked if he was happy here on seaQuest; we all just assumed that this was the place he wanted to be. What if... what if it's not? What if Lucas wants a normal childhood? Why is he here, anyway? How did the UEO ever agree to let a 16-year-old boy on a military sub?"
"Well," Miguel replied, "what I heard was that his father made a huge contribution to the UEO in exchange."
"Do you really believe that, Miguel-that a man like Dr. Walenczak can make a donation large enough to get the military to put someone so young in harms way? No, there has to be more to the story than that. Lucas never talks about his life before we knew him; don't you guys think it's the least bit strange?"
"What I think is strange is this stuff they call food," Tony responded. "I think you spend too much time thinking about other people's lives and not enough about your own, Tim. Lucas is just a normal child prodigy living on a military sub. Just because he doesn't talk about his past doesn't mean he has a dark one. And Lucas is perfectly happy here. He can work on his vocoder, he loves Darwin, and Captain Bridger's practically his father. He's fine, Tim."
"I'm not so sure..."
Bridger sat in his office, trying to concentrate on his paperwork. Life as a UEO captain was exciting at times, but the majority of his time was taken up by the endless stream of paperwork that always seemed to be in a pile a foot deep on his desk. His mind kept drifting today, though. He kept running his conversation with Lucas through his mind. He wished he could make everything better for him - take away the nightmares that plagued him and the memories from the past. Yet he knew that it was impossible, that Lucas had to do that himself. A knock on the door shook him out of his thoughts.
"Enter." Lucas opened the door tentatively and peeked in.
"Are you busy, sir? I can come back if you want..."
"Of course not, kiddo, don't be silly." Bridger smiled and waved the boy in with his hand. "What's up?"
Lucas sat down in the chair and cleared his throat, refusing to look at Bridger, but instead kept his gaze on his hands. "Well, sir, I wanted to ask you... I need... can I have a few weeks leave? I, uh, I need to get some things in order, and I think that I could sort things out better on shore."
"Are you okay, Lucas? You're not in trouble, are you?"
"Oh no, sir, nothing like that. I... it's just that my birthday is coming up in a few days, and I've been thinking about what I want to do afterwards. I'll be 18, sir, and my father won't be able to force me to stay here anymore." Lucas looked up quickly, realizing how what he just said sounded. "Not that I haven't been happy here, it's just that... well, most kids my age are getting ready for their senior prom and choosing which college they want to go to right now. I never got that choice, and I just need to figure out where I belong."
"But you're not a normal kid, Lucas. You're special, and most normal kids would give up those choices in a second for what you have."
"I'm sorry, sir. I've made up my mind."
"Lucas, I know you've been going through a rough time. I know how you feel. When I was your age-"
Lucas sprang up out of his chair and banged his hands down on Bridger's desk. "You have no idea what I've gone through! You can't know how I feel!"
"Lucas-"
"No!" Bridger was taken aback at the pain and anger reflected in Lucas's eyes. "You didn't see her..." Lucas stopped, realizing what he was about to say. Taking a deep breath, he began again. "I'm sorry, sir. I have to do this. Please."
Bridger looked at Lucas carefully. He could tell that there was something going on behind those blue eyes. "Okay, Lucas. You have two weeks, and after that I hope you will come back. We need you here, kiddo, and well, I need you here too."
"Thank you, captain."
"Good luck, Lucas."
Lucas lifted his duffel bag onto his shoulder and, preparing to leave the only place he had ever thought of as home, took one last look around. What am I doing? He thought. This has been the only real home I've ever known. I belong here. But he couldn't turn back now. He pulled down the lever that opened the door to his shuttle and took a step inside.
"Lucas!" Captain Bridger ran into the room and up to the opening door where Lucas stood. "Wait a second." Bridger placed a PAL into Lucas's outstreched palm.
"A PAL?"
"Just in case we need you. In case I need you." Bridger's eyes pleaded with the young man. "Just take it."
Lucas shoved the device into his duffel bag. "Sir..."
"Go, Lucas. Do what you need to do." Their eyes met, and instantly Bridger knew that this wasn't as easy to do as Lucas had thought. At the same time, Lucas saw understanding, true understanding in his captain's eyes. He hesitated, not used to the look. Then, their good-byes unspoken but understood, he turned and walked into the shuttle.
"Good luck, son." Bridger said the words so soft, he wasn't sure if he had actually said them or if he just thought them.
The door shut. Brodger sood a moment longer, then turned and left.