By Allegra
DISCLAIMERS ETC. - See Part 1
The aqua tubes cast shadowing ripples across mammal engineering, a kind of osmotic transition from water to air, spreading its liquid arms across in a soothing undulation. The light danced in mockery of the misery which was insurrected within the teenager sitting forlornly in front of his computer, monitor switched off.
Lucas stared at the blank screen or rather at his weakened face reflected there. God, how he hated that face, the body which went with it. All just meaningless layers of muscle and bone, his every thought a product of chemicals, synapses and currents. Everything boiled down to this one pathetic vessel, good for nothing. What was touch but a message from skin to brain? What were his emotions except hormonal imbalances? Yet, here he was, subjected to their every whim, told to believe that he existed, that there was a Lucas Wolenczak in there somewhere. The boy found himself leaning forward involuntarily to scrutinize the half-conceived image, eyes narrowing in loathing. He was miserable...so why couldn't he just shut it off? Whose sick joke was it that he could be a genius with the ability to unscramble any motherboard, build something from a pile of metal components, recreate people's lives with the touch of a button in any database, but he was unable to rearrange the chemicals in his brain? He couldn't tell this bag of bones that his emotions were redundant, that slabs of meat didn't emote, that there was nothing beyond the physical. His feelings didn't have a place or frame, they were empty air, faker than the pixels constituting the dragons Lucas fought in 'Reptilian Attack'.
He traced one hand over his forehead, down his cheek where a bruise had blossomed only days earlier but now bore no mark. Lucas told himself that there was no sensation, that the real Lucas was numb to this touch. Suddenly, a rip of anger tore through him and he dug his nails reflexively into his flesh. Perhaps the real him would show his cowardly face if he could just get through this damned carcass. With a hissing breath, the teenager dragged his hand away. The only result of that experiment would be questions and sympathy from Dr. Westphalen and Captain Bridger. Eternal questions which he didn't want to answer and hideous, reprehensible attempts at comfort to ease a pain Lucas could deal with by himself. He was disgusted at himself for not even being able to scratch his own skin for fear of having to speak to any one of those people who called themselves his friend.
This body was a conspiracy against him, thin and feeble but somehow indestructible. He had suffered at his father's hands, countless injuries and broken bones, but still he went on. The spontaneous healing of his leg had been the final spade of earth on his coffin which sealed him into this world. Lucas so desperately wanted to escape from the prison he found himself in, a prison which only breaking this body would achieve. Some mysterious power once again staid his hand, refused to let him go. What was it that Darwin had told the Regulator had said about spherical evolution? That the centre of the universe was in us? What a joke.
He hated himself even more for letting Westphalen get to him yesterday. He had been resolved, determined to keep them at arm's length, and Lucas had truly believed himself ready to divorce himself from human touch forever. Then, with one look, with one weak panic over his leg, his carefully, methodically constructed walls had crumbled all around him. He had been a fool, an idiot, but it was getting easier to rebuild those walls. The bricks were ready made, they simply needed to be cemented into place this time.
The next two days passed painfully slowly, with Lucas eventually being called in to see Captain Bridger about the incident at the MEDS station. It had been a difficult decision for the captain and he had spoken at length to Krieg and Kristin in the hope of finding enough information which might save bringing Lucas back into the mess. However, it was clear that there was no other option than to ask the teenager what he had found and what made him think that the polychromatite was not manufactured at all and to provide his own version of events. If they were going to accuse Olafsson and Wagner, they would have to provide solid evidence and a detailed understanding of the events witnessed at the station.
Nathan had made a personal note to himself not to mention anything about Lucas' leg. Kristin had informed him of the miraculous recovery but, short of sending the boy off to some research lab where he would be prodded and poked to find out where these bizarre regenerative powers stemmed from, the matter would have to left alone. To be perfectly honest, the captain was relieved that Westphalen had overseen the bulk of the teenager's physiotherapy because it meant there was a minimal amount of fuss. Only he and Lieutenant Krieg were party to the truth and now they would simply ignore it. It was too much to expect Lucas to go through anything else.
Although he was fine physically, the adults could not help but be taken aback when Lucas entered the ward room looking like a thunder cloud. Nathan pretended not to notice, hoping the teenager would lighten a little if nobody drew attention to him. Since the accident, he had responded fairly well as long as nobody tried to talk to him about Cleo or attempted to get close. So far, everyone had obliged, but the captain was reaching breaking point.
"Lucas, take a seat."
The boy sat down, sullenly, his eyes resting on inanimate objects but never on a face. Realizing this was the closest he'd get to full attention, Bridger proceeded. "I know this is a sore subject for you, for all of us, but it is imperative that we find out exactly what you know about that mine. So, I thought we'd start with everything you can remember about what your notes said."
Lucas felt his stomach twist violently with the last words. Like a gun's trigger, the image of Cleo and his notes clutched in her hands just as the first rocks began to fall swam across the teenager's mind. He struggled to suppress his emotions and engrossed the other half of his mind in trying to remember the facts. The discussion rambled between Kristin and Lucas with an occasional statement by Krieg who had been in close proximity to their investigations while on the base.
Nathan sat back and, for the first time in weeks, actually savoured the sight of Lucas arguing loudly with Westphalen and Ben, his voice animated and stubborn. Eventually, the scientists reached similar conclusions that there simply was no evidence whatsoever that Wagner had tampered with the rock. Whatever they had found there was the result of perhaps a thousand years' worth of pressure, heat and compression. When Kristin and Krieg left the room, there was not a doubt in their minds that Wagner and Olafsson had been lying and that UEO action needed to be taken immediately to bring them to justice.
Nathan glanced through the notes he had been making and looked up in surprise when he realized that Lucas was still sitting at the table, strategically balancing paperclips around the edge of his glass of water. Brow furrowed in concentration, Bridger wasn't sure quite how to read the situation. The boy had steered clear of every other human being since the accident, talking to anyone who happened to drop by but never seeking someone out. Was he sitting across from the captain because he wanted a friend or because he was too absorbed in his own thoughts? There was only one way to find out.
"Lucas? I'm ordering some new hardware for Dr. Westphalen. Is there anything you want before I send out the request form?"
Lucas didn't look up from his balancing trick, "No, thanks."
Bridger nodded, trying to think of something appropriate to say which wasn't asking how the boy felt or whether he had anything to get off his chest. Lucas saved him the effort by sitting back in his chair, the frown never wavering. "What will happen to Wagner and Dr. Olafsson now?"
"The UEO will set up a hearing and, unless they plead guilty, we'll probably be called to testify."
"Do you think they will...plead guilty, I mean?"
Nathan paused; he was wondering where this conversation was headed. "I don't know. Without proof of their involvement, I doubt they would be foolish enough to perpetuate the lie." Lucas' face was completely unreadable. Bridger put aside his notes and moved round to the boy, sitting on the edge of the table near enough to talk but far enough away not to alarm him.
"Don't worry, you'll get justice."
At this, Lucas looked up at him, startling the captain into the acknowledgement of how long it had been since those piercing blue eyes had locked with his. "Justice? For what?"
His voice did not waver, it was steady and questioning. Nathan stumbled over the explanation forged in his mind, "Justice for what happened to you, for Cleo."
Lucas expression contorted crudely into anger and he glared from beneath a hooded brow then, as if it had all been an illusion, his face relaxed into complete indifference. "I guess."
Bridger had no idea how to react to this person. He had lain awake for nights trying to fathom what the boy must be going through, how he could reach him without hurting him more, but nothing could have prepared him for this. What did you say to someone who didn't even seem to care whether the people who were responsible for his girlfriend's horrible death or for his own mutilation were brought to justice?
"Lucas, I don't understand you. I want to. I want to help you get through this. God knows I took it hard when Carol died but...isn't there anything I can do for you?"
Lucas listened to the words issuing from his captain's lips but somehow they didn't make any sense to him. They weren't words to react to, words to take to heart and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. There were moments were the chinks in his armour allowed trickles of feeling to bleed through and it took all his will power to lock them out. He took a perverse pleasure in the knowledge that it was becoming so much easier to achieve now. "No, I don't think so."
Nathan knew better than to push further, even though he wanted nothing more than to whisk Lucas away from here and everything bad which had ever happened to him. He fought the paternal emotions and for a while he honestly believed that he had won. The youngster stood up and looked towards the door as if wondering whether to leave or stay when Bridger spontaneously asked, "Lucas, can I, can I touch you?" The boy stared at him, his mouth half open as if to speak but no words came out. His eyes were a cacophony of conflicting emotions - horror, sadness, hope, fear, apprehension, shimmering with forming tears. Nathan made a move towards him and Lucas staggered back, "I...no, I..." In an instant he was out the door and Bridger could hear his feet pounding against the metal corridors into the distance.
"Damn!" He cursed his stupidity. A minute ago that boy might have spoken to him, might have opened up, but as always, he had pushed too far and sent Lucas spinning in the opposite direction.
Lucas rounded the corner and slipped into his room with a sigh of relief. He had seen the querying looks sent in his direction as he had blundered from the ward room, slamming into one crewman after another in an effort to get back to the one place he could call his. Breathing heavily, he looked anxiously around himself, trying to steady his whirling mind. He couldn't quite comprehend what the captain had been trying to do or what he was feeling now. It was as if a hurricane had thundered across his carefully plotted garden and whipped it into a frenzy of chaos which he couldn't control, wreaking everything in its path which he had ordered. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. He had made a decision to keep everyone away from him from now on, so why was that so difficult to adhere to?
Lucas jumped when there was a blunt knock at the hatch door. "Go away."
He wasn't really up to talking to anyone and he prayed it wouldn't be Bridger. That was the last person he wanted to see right now, but Lucas assured himself that the captain had shown great diplomacy in most departments so perhaps he'd know better than to come knocking. The door swung open to reveal Benjamin Krieg, his customary wicked smile playing across his lips. He clutched a disk in one hand,
"Hey, kid. You got a minute?"
Lucas didn't say anything. He was suspicious of why Ben would come by his room when they had only just seen each other in the ward room. Krieg took the boy's silence for a 'yes' and planted himself on the chair opposite. His tone sobered, abruptly. "I figured you could use some cheering up, so I brought ya something." He passed Lucas the disk which the boy eyed for a moment before putting it down beside him on the bed. "Thanks."
"And there's something else." Ben looked cursively around the room, weighing up the right way to say what he meant. "I know you don't want to talk about what happened...and it's none of my business really but...it's important to me that you know this."
He paused and Lucas wondered if the lieutenant could hear his heart thumping through his chest. He was trying so hard to control his emotions and he wasn't sure if he could cope with another well-meaning talk. It was as if God had sent a plague of guilt on the entire crew, willing them to make amends and try to draw the teenager out of his shell. Well, Lucas thought, we'll see who wins this round. Not trusting himself to speak, he simply tried to block out the words and think of something else, anything which might help him through this.
"All that stuff we were saying about the cave-in and the MEDS' involvement, whatever we said, I want you to know that I don't think Cleo was involved."
Lucas started, "What?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Krieg went on, digging his hole steadily deeper. "I'm sure Kristin doesn't either. I know I was snappy with Cleo on the base and I almost accused her but..."
Lucas heard a hollow laugh which he registered was issuing from his own throat. "You all thought Cleo was lying to us? That she was leading us on?! I can't believe I'm hearing this."
Krieg began to realize his mistake and stammered, "Well, no, that's what I'm trying to say. We don't." Lucas nodded, humouring Ben for a couple more seconds. "Yeah, but someone does, someone did." He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "I can't believe I'm hearing this."
Then, with all the venom he had in him, he turned on his friend. "She died for us. Cleo died trying to get some stupid notes, something to help us find the answers. Do you understand that? What do you call it, taking her job seriously?! Get out!" Ben stood up, his hands raised in surrender while his throat clamoured to vocalise something which would calm the teenager down. "Hey, Lucas, I was just..." Lucas stood and picked up the disk Krieg had brought, holding it accusingly in front of his friend's face. "You come in here, offering me presents to make me feel better! Let's cheer Lucas up! Let's get him back to normal so we can all get on with our lives without feeling guilty! She died for us, she died for me...because she wanted to help me! Because she loved me and I loved her..."
His voice died, unable to proceed. Lucas suddenly found himself feeling kind of woozy and nauseous but, gathering his remaining strength, he said, "Get out, Ben. I can't believe you can say this to me. I can't believe you thought for even an instant that she could be so calculating, so cold."
Ben opened his mouth to speak but the damage had been done and there was nothing more to say. Wiping sweaty hands against his jump suit, he backed towards the door and paused before ducking out into the hallway.
Lucas stood in the middle of his room, trembling from head to toe, every muscle aching with sorrow. He looked around the cramped space, overwhelmed by the surging loss he felt. All the restraint he had commanded for days was released in a torrent of utter misery and it was all he could do to stand. Breath gasping from his lips, Lucas sank to the floor and let the trembling sobs free, weeping silently against the bed. He couldn't do this, he couldn't control it anymore because was too much for him to bear.
"Kristin?" The doctor looked up from the charts she was signing off, taking in Ben's dishevelled, nervous face. "Lieutenant, what's the matter?"
"Oh God, Kristin, I've done a terrible thing."
"Lucas?" When her knock received no answer, Westphalen quietly opened the door to mammal engineering. Lucas sat on the floor, defeated and diminished, his head leaning against the bed frame, sobs wracking his body.
"Oh, Lucas!" She ran to him, easing herself down on the floor beside him and gathering his slight, unresisting frame into her arms as the tears fell freely.
"Lucas, darling, shhh, shhh." She soothed him, kissing his hair and squeezing him tightly to her. Her muscles pounded with adrenaline, making her want to squeeze harder and harder, to wring the pain from this broken child. She felt tears stinging in her own eyes, tears which she thought she'd shed for good days ago.
"Oh, Lucas, my love. It's all right, it's okay." He wept against her, unable to stop, unable to control the sorrow which he thought would never leave his side.
The door lay partially open and Kristin looked up through swimming vision to see Nathan pass outside then stop abruptly when he saw the scene. Shaking her head, the doctor motioned him away and, reluctantly, the captain pulled the door fast behind him and left the pair alone. His heart yearned to be with Lucas, wishing that he could be the one to comfort him, the one whom the youngster had confided in, but such selfishness was short-lived. It was quickly replaced with relief that Lucas had finally found a way to deal with Cleo's death and what had happened to him.
Kristin cradled the teenager in her arms until his sobs diminished and he withdrew from her, avoiding her concerned gaze. He didn't say a word and the doctor reached up to wipe a stray tear from his face, "There now, that's better. It's all right."
Her hand passed fleetingly over the boy's forehead and she touched his cheek lightly with her palm before patting his knee. "Come on, you're exhausted. Let's get you into bed."
Lucas made no protest as she helped him take off his shoes and climb under the covers. Kristin knelt beside the bed and whispered, "Get some sleep. Just say the word and I'll be there, all right?"
Lucas nodded, his eyes still refusing to meet hers. Kristin touched his forehead once more, worry momentarily knitting her brow. Whether it was simply the exertion of the day's events or something more, the boy was definitely running a temperature but, given the situation, the doctor opted to leave him be until he had slept awhile.
Lucas closed his eyes, waiting for Dr. Westphalen to leave before sliding his lids open to make sure it was all clear. He lay staring up at the pipe work, feeling too numb to cry any more or even think straight. The past week's events were like a fuzzy haze in his mind and even the Sun's energy wouldn't be enough to quench the ugly quagmire of despair he was experiencing. Glancing round the room, he noticed the disk which Ben had brought for him lying against the wall where he had flung it. Unsteadily, he climbed out of bed and retrieved it, bringing it back to his bed and plugging it into the virtual reality glasses stashed under the desk.
Lying back, Lucas punched in the code and prepared himself for some stupid beach bunny video with bouncing breasts and sun-drenched sands. Instead, the picture which came sharply into focus was what appeared to be a home video recording of a sunny residential street. The camera moved steadily down the centre of the tree canopied road, sounds of birds and distant children playing filled Lucas' ears. He passed a middle-aged man watering his front lawn in front of a white washed two-storey house, plant pots by the door and a child's tricycle parked haphazardly in the curving driveway. The camera moved on and Lucas could almost feel the warm sun against his skin, smell the revitalising scent of freshly cut grass against his nostrils. He sailed down the street, taking in the street barbecue, the group of children playing basketball against the garage door, a father showing his son how to build a rabbit hutch and two siblings chasing one another around the perfectly regulated garden.
Lucas was lost in this picture of familial bliss and the life he had longed for. He was seventeen years old, only a few years from being an adult, from looking back and saying he had never experienced any of it. His childhood was a mottled patchwork of heartache and suffering which he had always deserved. He had never questioned its verity, never wondered why he wasn't supposed to see the world through this camera's eyes. His virtual eyes wandered back to the father and son working together, the man sawing wood while his son attempted to help with a bright red plastic saw. Could that ever have been Lucas Wolenczak? Could that father with kindly wrinkles around his eyes ever have been his father? Perhaps if he'd been a better child, a different child without 'gifts'?
As the camera moved towards the end of the road, it homed in on a young couple who were no more than fifteen, hands and lips locked in the tentative embrace of first love. Lucas' stomach churned as his mind distorted the girl from the chubby, raven-haired child before him to a light-haired, blue eyed young woman. To think there were couples like that up land, existing in a golden world they took for granted but which Cleo would never understand and which he would never see. The one person who could have changed that was gone. How could he find this foreign country without her? In their brief time together, Lucas had loved her...and he couldn't do it alone anymore.
Nathan hadn't exactly been spying, more lingering suspiciously near Lucas' quarters, waiting for Kristin to pass. At first he had been pleased that the youngster had finally opened up to someone, but now he had a few minutes to reflect, the captain was more concerned that it had been something he had said to trigger the collapse. Perhaps he had pushed the kid too far back in the ward room. He was so engrossed in these thoughts that he almost missed Westphalen stalking past his half shadowed form in the corridor. "Kristin!" The doctor whirled on him, her face clearly reflecting how far away her mind was from anything around her. "Oh, Nathan."
"Is Lucas okay? He looked in pretty bad shape."
Kristin ran a hand through her disarrayed hair. "To tell you the truth, I think a good cry and a hug was what that boy has been craving for days."
Nathan looked guiltily down at his hands for a moment, feeling like some kind of murderous criminal. "Do you know what triggered it off?"
Kristin's face suddenly fell into drawn wariness. "Uh, actually, yes I do." She knew that Ben had only acted out of kindness, that his intentions had been honourable. Unfortunately, he also still had a lot to learn about tactfully broaching subjects or not mentioning them at all. The doctor had hoped the captain might accept that Lucas had reached breaking point rather than probe into specifics to spare Krieg an earful. Bridger's reactions were suitable to every occasion except occasions where the teenager was involved and it was likely that he would overreact to Ben's actions. However, she stood a better chance of calming Nathan than the wayward lieutenant would in a month of Sundays.
"Perhaps we should go somewhere more private."
They wandered back towards the captain's quarters while Kristin tentatively tried to make light of the situation or at least profess Lucas to be on the way to a sound emotional recovery.
Once inside, she explained Ben's actions in a rush of sentences intended to overwhelm Bridger before he could explode. However, his reaction was far from what Westphalen had expected. He put his head in his hands for a moment, "Oh, what a relief."
"A relief? Okay, that was not quite the reaction I had expected?"
Nathan looked up, a half smile playing on his lips. "After you left the ward room earlier, I tried to get close to him. From the look in his eyes, anyone would think I was holding a gun to his head. He ran and I didn't know what to do so I just left him. It seemed like the best thing to do at the time." Kristin nodded, solemnly.
"You're were only trying to help, Nathan. I think we've all put our foot in it at some time or another over the past few days. It's difficult to know when to stop, where Lucas has drawn the line, but I honestly think he's on the mend. I don't think he's got the fight left in him to stave us off any longer."
"And that's a good thing?"
"Well, it means he can rely on us to help him."
"How's his leg?"
Kristin shrugged, "That is still puzzling me. The leg is a moot point so I suppose we'll have to leave it be, but when I left him just now he was definitely running a slight temperature."
Nathan's eyes widened in concern, "Do you think he's got some kind of infection?"
Sighing, Kristin crossed her arms. "I don't know. I thought it would be best to let him sleep. I'll take a look at him tomorrow morning. It could well be a delayed reaction to all the emotional stress he's been under." Nathan nodded, satisfied. He longed to be with Lucas again, to talk to him as they used to do and it felt like an abstract, forced memory of the days spent together on the island during shore leave. The captain felt very far away from the teenager all of a sudden, like he was a stranger. In a way he was. Experiencing loss of a loved one altered one's perception of life, suddenly shed everything in a new light. It was difficult to imagine how Lucas might be changed by his understanding of it. After all, he had gone through so much in his tender years, so much to be sorry for and many conflicting emotions to be worked through. Maybe Cleo's death would be filed away now with the rest of the horrors which should have scarred the boy irreparably but which he somehow worked beyond.
In spite of his better judgement, Bridger couldn't resist looking in on Lucas before he went to bed that night. He wasn't sure whether it was better that the youngster be awake or asleep but he couldn't pass that door without peeking in. Quietly turning the wheel, he opened the hatch into the gloom of the boy's room and tiptoed over to the bed. Lucas' face was illuminated by the eerie liquid blue of the aqua tubes, his face serene. Bridger did not dare to touch that soft, pale skin but he frowned when he saw the beads of sweat glistening across that tender brow. Assured that the boy was at least sleeping comfortably, he moved back towards the hatch and was startled when a small voice called, "Captain?" Quickly returning to the boy's side, Nathan hunched down by the bed.
"Hey, kiddo. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
Lucas' eyes were sleepy but darkened by enlarged pupils, making them almost black. "That's okay." The captain smiled, sensing for the first time in so long that he was actually wanted here.
"How are you feeling?" Lucas stared at Bridger for a long moment as if seeing his face for the first time, eyes roaming from his mouth to his eyebrows, taking him in feature by feature. Finally, he spoke. "Better." He attempted a small smile of proof. "I'm sorry, captain, for the way I've behaved."
"No, no, you shouldn't be sorry. You've reacted perfectly normally."
He paused, remembering the misdemeanours he felt he should be apologizing for. "You know, I reckon I've got a few things to say sorry for myself."
A fleeting frown passed across the boy's brow, prompting Bridger to continue. "I'm sorry for how rough I was with you in the cave, trying to force those numbers out of you...and I'm sorry for what I did earlier. You weren't ready for me to get that close and I'm sorry if I scared you."
Lucas digested this information slowly, trying hard to recall what had happened in the cave. "Now it's my turn to absolve you. To be honest, I don't remember much about being in that cave at all. I certainly don't remember anything about some numbers...and you don't have to be sorry for what happened before. I think, in a way, it helped me. I didn't know what I was feeling and then when Ben came in here, it was like I couldn't hold it in anymore, like every cell of me was demanding that these emotions be exorcised." Lucas stopped suddenly, trying to find the words which might explain how he had felt in those moments, but there were none. But Bridger understood. He had lost both his wife and son and nothing would ever bring them back, ever reconcile them in this world. It would be done on another plane, a new level of existence with a different coloured sky. Nathan sat patiently, giving the youngster all the time he needed.
Eventually, Lucas asked, "You know what was the worst thing about losing Cleo? It was the knowledge that she was just like me. That's what brought us together, what made it so special. She was more than just a girlfriend, she was a soul mate, the mirror of my soul. It could have been me." Bridger could see the tears forming again in those pain-wrought blue eyes.
"You know, the reason she went back underwater was because she felt like a freak, like me. The real world didn't want her, just like my father didn't want me. The world wasn't ready for some jumped up genius kid so he put me as far away from the civilization as possible."
Lucas' voice began to grow hoarse as he tried to control the tremor and he turned wide eyes on Bridger, "What happened to her body, captain?"
Nathan paused, uncertain if the truth was the right thing to tell Lucas, but there would never be a right time. "Her body was taken up to Anchorage and autopsied...then she was cremated."
Lucas nodded. He had known the funeral would have taken place without him, of that he had been certain. Bridger added, "I tried to make them wait so that you could say goodbye but..."
Lucas swallowed back the lump in his throat. "It's okay. I understand."
The pair sat in silence for a while. "Did anyone go...to her funeral?" He didn't know what else to call it. It was hardly a funeral when there were no family to be notified or friends to gather and say goodbye.
Nathan inwardly winced at the question. Both he and Kristin had intended to go, to pay their last respects on Lucas' behalf, but they had not been notified until after the cremation had already taken place.
"We wanted to...very much, but we didn't hear until it was too late. She was registered as having no family and the hospital didn't know how involved we were with the case, that we knew Cleo at all." Nathan found himself struggling to find words to explain what he wanted to say or, more importantly, how he wanted them to sound. No matter which way he twisted his vocabulary, it all sounded callous and abysmal.
Lucas quietly said, "There are times when I wonder if that could be me someday." Bridger frowned, taken aback by this comment. "My parents don't care what happens to me and one day seaQuest will be gone, it won't be my home anymore...and I wonder what will become of me. Will I even exist to the world anymore or will I be like Cleo? Without love, without hope? A funeral with empty seats?" The boy's voice lost its tremor, evening out.
Nathan couldn't believe the words falling from the boy's lips. They were crystal clear, uncluttered by irrational emotions. Still, the resignation was undeniable. Roughly, Bridger cupped the teenager's face between his hands. "Don't ever say that, Lucas. It will never be true. What happened to Cleo was dreadful but it will never be you! There are so many people who love you, even your parents. I know they have a strange way of showing it but do you remember what your father told you when he called?" Lucas nodded. "He didn't say those things to mess you up, he said them because under all that bravado and etiquette is a father who genuinely loves his son. He just has a hard time showing those feelings. Your father made mistakes, terrible ones which you suffered for, but he is trying to change. He is trying to rebuild some of those bridges but it is hard to do and it takes courage. Lucas, you're a wonderful, wonderful person and there will be so many people who will want to love you if you'd let them...but you've got to let them in."
Lucas swallowed, choking back tears once more as Bridger drew him into a fierce hug, never wanting to let him go. Clinging to the captain as if he were the only thread of hope, Lucas felt some kind of peace for the first time in a long time. "Captain, will you stay with me?"
Nathan smiled into the boy's blonde hair, his heart swelling with pride and happiness. "Of course I will." Scrunching his small body up against the aqua tubes, Lucas made room for the man's larger frame on the edge of the bed.
Nathan awoke the next morning with a seething pain in his lower back, his spine greeting its owner with an unwelcome throbbing, consistent ache. The captain groggily wondered what kind of position he must have been lying in to get such horrendous repercussions. Rubbing one hand across his eyes, he suddenly realized that he couldn't feel his left arm at all. Looking down, he quickly ascertained the cause - a blonde head, cherubic and peacefully lying against him. Bridger smiled at the cosy scene they must present, but his contentment was short-lived when he looked closer at Lucas' sleeping form. The youngster's face was grey and drawn, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead and cheeks. Leaning in closer, Bridger placed one hand against the boy's throat, recoiling in horror at the diminished pulse beneath angry, hot skin. He was no expert in medicine but, while he knew sleeping induced lower breathing rates, the kid's temperature was not encouraging.
Watchfully, Bridger extricated his arm and laid Lucas' head gently against the pillow. He decided to take a quick shower and change before going on a direct mission to medbay to speak with Dr. Westphalen. It would not do for Lucas to get sick again and hopefully some paracetamol or aspirin would do the trick to get him back on form.
Bumping in to Lieutenant Krieg who was walking to the mess with Commander Hitchcock, Bridger smiled wearily, aware of how dishevelled he must appear. Ben cast a look in the direction from which the captain had come, namely Lucas' room. "How's Lucas?"
"Much better. He's going to be okay, I think...no thanks to you." Ben looked down sheepishly but Katie caught the playful twinkle in Bridger' eye. He wagged a finger at the lieutenant, speaking to Katie. "Keep him out of trouble, will you?"
"I'll do my best, sir." Nathan nodded and excused himself, eager to see Kristin before she got too snowed under with work.
Lucas woke up slowly, reluctantly admitting that his ears were listening to the daily activities of the boat and his legs were starting to complain about lying down for so long. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he sat up and instantly regretted it. His head was defiantly telling him to stay in bed a while longer, vision swaying unsteadily. Refusing to give in to it, Lucas swung his legs off the mattress and began to dress. He knew he should really have a shower but since he suddenly needed the chair as a crutch for even putting his socks on, he decided standing in the shower was not the wisest option.
After about fifteen minutes, he was fully dressed and paused by the mirror, one hand on the hatch ready to leave. He released the door the instant he saw his face. Okay, so mornings had never been his strong point, but even Lucas had to admit that he looked like hell. His eyes were sunken and kind of red, perhaps due to blubbering intermittently over the last twenty four hours, and his skin was sallow and pale. Hastily grabbing a comb, the teenager attempted to regulate his appearance somewhat, pinching his cheeks until he winced with pain. It managed to bring a momentary spike of colour to his flesh before sinking back into white. Figuring it would just have to do, Lucas turned his attention to finding the disk he wanted to give to Ben in thanks for his own thoughtful present. Reaching into his desk drawer, he rummaged through the debris and junk of what used to be hard drive components, scraps of paper and used up pens. "Ouch!" He withdrew his hand sharply, examining his wounded finger and sucking off the drop of blood bubbling there. At least the pain had momentarily helped him forget the pounding headache building up inside his skull.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Lucas headed towards the mess. He wasn't really in the mood for food but, given the late hour, it was likely that Ben would be there, and he had some apologies to make. Besides, perhaps the sight of food would spontaneously give him an appetite. Snorting derisively at his own optimism, Lucas stuffed the disk into his pocket and entered the mess.
"What's been happening with Dr. Wagner and Dr. Olafsson since Bridger went public on Lucas' finds?" Katie asked, biting into a bread roll as if it were her last breakfast. Ben watched her with interest. How was it that she could be incredibly gracious in many ways but have another side which was vulgar and slovenly. Even he ate with more delicacy than that. Recollecting his thoughts, he said, "Oh, well, Commander Ford has been dealing with most of the interactions between Pearl Harbour and seaQuest. The information was passed on to UEO lawyers and now we're just waiting for the response."
Katie took a sip of orange juice, "And what do you think they'll do?"
Ben shrugged, "Well, unless they've got shit for brains, I'd say they'll plead guilty."
"Really?"
"What else can they do? Unless they show up with a chunk of tourmaline and turn it into wankertite, wagnertite or whatever, in front of the judge, I don't think they stand much chance of winning." Katie laughed at his purposeful mispronunciation. "Don't let the captain hear you talking like that...or Lucas for that matter. The last thing he needs is another bad example from you." Ben's grin faded and Katie patted his hand, reassuringly. "Hey, give yourself a break. Bridger knows you were only trying to help."
"Yeah, but does Lucas? I hate to think how I might have screwed him up." Katie's gaze moved past him towards the door, "Well, now might be your chance to find out." Ben turned to see Lucas enter the mess. "Mind you, go easy. He looks awful."
The pair watched discreetly as the teenager picked up a tray and moved along the line, looking at the food but not actually taking any. He reached the end of the queue with a bottle of water and some kind of brightly wrapped bar, undoubtedly a variety of junk food. The blue eyes looked up, anxiously surveying the room before landing on Ben. The lieutenant smiled back and waved him over. To his infinite relief, Lucas smiled and ambled towards them, taking a seat between the two officers.
"Hey kid."
Katie looked at the chocolate bar on the boy's tray, "That's breakfast, Lucas? Doesn't look very healthy."
Lucas flicked at the wrapper but made no move to open it, instead opting for water. At least he didn't think he'd throw up on water alone. "I'm not hungry, really." Quickly, he changed the subject. "Listen, I'm sorry about how I acted yesterday. I was, well, I wasn't myself."
Ben raised his hands in surrender, biting into his sausage and trying to stay casual. "Hey, that's okay. You've been having a rough time of it so I forgive ya."
Lucas appreciated his friend not making it into a big deal, but he still wanted to thank him. "Anyway, I watched the disk and...I don't know what to say. It was really great. Thanks."
"Well, you know, 'Big Breasted Women of the Sahara' are more up my alley, but hey, whatever shakes your stick...!"
Katie rolled her eyes. "Is it possible for you to think of anything else when you're off duty? I can't believe you men, you're all the same. They're just flesh, body parts, functional body parts!" She was met with two very blank faces and flapped her hand, dismissively. "Never mind." The three chatted generally for a while before Katie glanced at her watch. "Oh, look at the time. My shift starts in five minutes, I'd better get going."
Lucas sighed, "Yeah, I guess I should get a move on, too." He stood up but, without warning, black dots began dancing before his eyes and he put one hand out on the table to steady himself. Katie and Krieg reached to support him, the commander's ice blue eyes sharp with concern. Krieg asked, "Woah there, kid. Are you all right?"
Lucas mumbled, "Yeah, I'm okay...I think." Slowly, the two adults moved their hands away from him and for a second Lucas honestly thought he was okay. Taking one step from the table, the world began spinning again and he felt two hands grip him under the arms, catching him just as he began to fall.
Katie reached for her PAL and alerted medbay, "Medteam to the mess - immediately!" Helping Ben ease Lucas onto the chair, she instructed him to put his head between his knees for a while. Lucas did as he was told but the light-headed sensation only seemed to get worse.
A minute later, Dr. Westphalen was at his side. "Lucas! I've been looking for you. Captain Bridger said you weren't looking too good and I'd say that was an understatement." She took his pulse, frowning. "Hmm, let's get you to medbay."
She forced his head up and examined each eye. "Can you stand?" Lucas nodded and managed to get up with Ben's help. He was halfway to the door, carefully controlling his breathing and focusing intently on the decking beneath his feet when a second bout of nausea set in. The wave passed but blackness nagged at the edge of his vision, threatening to spill him into complete blindness. He felt himself falling but there just wasn't enough strength to stop himself.
"Lucas!" Once again, Ben managed to half catch the boy before he hit the ground and gently laid him on the decking as Kristin instructed everyone to stand back and give him air. Lucas was carefully manoeuvred onto a stretcher and hurried back to medbay for examination.
"Your shift began ten minutes ago, commander. Why are you so late?" Katie hastened over to the captain, standing at his shoulder as he barked an order in a lieutenant's direction. "Sir."
Turning on her, he asked irritably, "What is it?"
"I'm sorry I'm late but I've just been with Lucas. He collapsed." Nathan stared at her in shock. He had spoken to Westphalen less than an hour ago and now the boy had collapsed. "Where's commander Ford?"
Hitchcock knew that the captain wanted to be in medbay but she also knew that Jonathan was in talks with the UEO headquarters over the outcome of Wagner's case. "He's talking to David Withers about the MEDS incident. Wagner spoke up this morning." Bridger nodded, grimly, inwardly chiding himself for not acting on his instincts the previous night. Lucas had been showing signs of illness then but he had chosen to dismiss it. Rational thought reclaimed him though when he remembered the exchange which had ensued, how much the teenager had opened up to him. To think that all of those thoughts might have laid dormant for months to come if Bridger had not been there at that very moment. "Fine, return to your station, commander."
"Yes, sir." Nathan fought to maintain his concentration on seaQuest's course, plotting her next heading and dealing with the routine mundanities which barely required his attention. As much as he longed to be with Lucas, the bridge crew had been without their captain for many days and it was important that he stay for the full shift. He had let his personal feelings lead him ever since the accident and no matter how difficult it might be, Nathan had to let his mind supersede his heart's desires. Lucas was in safe hands and he could ask for no better care than Dr. Westphalen would provide. He had only been running a temperature a couple of hours ago so the chances were that the teenager had simply moved too fast on too little food and blacked out. It shouldn't be a cause for concern. No matter which way he viewed it, Nathan was captain of this boat and that role must always come first and foremost. Turning back to the tasks at hand, he tried to put the boy's image from his mind and get on with his job.
Ben had been waiting patiently outside the emergency room for what felt like an age. Eventually, Kristin emerged, not looking nearly as harassed as she had twenty minutes earlier. "Ben, you're still here."
Ben wondered where else she expected him to be. "Yeah, how is he? What's wrong with him?" He strained to see past her.
"Well, at the moment, it is presenting itself as mild anaemia so we're upping his iron levels. The nurses are just moving him and he's resting comfortably now. He started coming round while we were assessing him so I gave him a mild sedative just to keep him calm. I expect he'll sleep it off for the next couple of hours at least."
"Oh. Is that my cue to leave?" Kristin marvelled at the lieutenant's sudden tact.
"I think it's best to leave him be for a while. Give him a chance to rest properly before he has any visitors."
Ben nodded. Now that everything was okay again between him and the kid, he really wanted to spend some time with him. Apparently he wasn't doing a very good job of covering this disappointment up because Kristin laughed, "Oh, go on. Sit with him if it means I don't have to look at that miserable expression on your face!" Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he followed the direction of her finger to where Lucas had been taken.
Nathan endured the slow and torturous shift, glancing at his watch every minute as the time dragged into hours and he was eventually released from his duties. Hurrying as fast as decorum allowed, he arrived in medbay and started looking for Lucas. He was relieved to see that the ICU was clear which meant he couldn't be in too dreadful a state. Fortunately, despite its imposing size, the seaQuest did not house a particularly large medical facility and eliminating his options did not take the captain long.
Lucas was firmly attached to an IV, his face pale but serene as he lay sleeping on one side. Ben was reading a book beside the bed, his eyes wandering occasionally over to the patient with unease. Nathan put his finger to his lips as he entered, prompting the lieutenant to stand up and vacate the only chair in the room. Whispering, Krieg said, "Dr. Westphalen sedated him. He's been sleeping since he arrived."
Bridger nodded, "What happened?"
"I don't know. He just arrived in the mess and passed out. The doc said something about anaemia."
"Anaemia?" Nathan tried to suppress the alarm in his voice. A moment later, Kristin appeared and shooed both men out into the corridor. "Let the poor boy sleep." Anticipating Bridger's next question, she assured him, "Now, don't be alarmed, Nathan. Anaemia can result from poor diet as well as loss of blood. This was probably a long time coming. It's only natural that his body should have a few setbacks. It's taken a pretty good beating."
"Can I stay with him?"
Kristin looked sceptically from one man to the other, "Only one of you. Lucas doesn't need crowding. He needs space to recuperate properly." Ben tactfully made an excuse about some project demanding his immediate attention followed by a completely inappropriate and crude comment about the state of his rear end from prolonged use of hospital chairs.
Returning to Lucas' room, Bridger sat down and picked up the book which Krieg had left behind. True to form, the cover was nothing more than an excellent foil for one of his favourite pastimes - smutty fiction. The captain was only too familiar with the variety of bedtime reading generally used on the boat, but for some reason Lieutenant Krieg's preoccupation with such literature was more concerning. Turning the pages with a half smile at the ridiculous situations therein, a small voice penetrated his thoughts. "I thought you'd outgrown that kind of thing, captain." Bridger sheepishly replaced the book at Lucas' bedside, hearing himself protest, "It's not mine!"
Lucas laughed at the sudden role reversal. The number of times he had been caught red handed doing something he would really rather was kept under the privacy of his bed sheets...well, it was quite often. Of course, it was always Ben's fault though. Smiling warmly, the captain leaned his elbows on the bed, taking Lucas' hand in his own, "So, kiddo, how are you feeling?"
"Okay, I guess. What's wrong with me?"
"Dr. Westphalen says it's mild anaemia, probably due to diet."
Lucas rolled his eyes, "Great, so now I'm going to get the lecture on eating habits on top of having to stay in here."
"Well, I'll ask her to go easy on you but it is important that you look after yourself, Lucas. Don't abuse your body."
The teenager snorted, "Me abuse my body? If memory serves, that cave-in wasn't self-inflicted." The cheeky tone left his voice as those words coagulated into pictures and tagged themselves to everything he had endured, to Cleo's death, to his own ever-present misery. With them, Lucas recalled his own musings over the state of this body he was supposed to be preserving. Bridger noticed the boy's sudden reticence and the sadness creeping across his pale face. "Hey, kiddo, come back to me."
Lucas widened his eyes, "Hmmm?"
Nathan reflexively squeezed the teenager's hand tighter, trying to hold him in the present and rescue him from the encroaching past. "Lucas, I want to ask you something."
The youngster's voice was diminished and forlorn, "What?"
"Would it help you to pay your respects properly to Cleo? As soon as the doc gives the all clear, I could take you back to Anchorage, to the crematorium." The captain was uncertain whether Lucas would react badly to this suggestion but it was important that the boy keep his feelings open. The more introspective he became in his grief, the worse it would get and there would be more emotional scarring to deal with later on. It was in Lucas' own interests that Bridger was doing this, not to mention that it might be exactly what the teenager really wanted but just hadn't been able to say so before.
Lucas hadn't really got as far as considering how he wanted to say goodbye to Cleo. In some ways, he felt he had done it already, that no amount of time spent standing over her lowly grave would make any difference to the way he felt. She didn't have a resting place, somewhere which was how he remembered her or sacred space to be treasured. That was just the problem. Even in death Cleo would not have a position in the world which rejected her. No granite stone would be enough. It was just another burial, a literal one to complement that which she had endured in life. Lucas almost felt as if it were somehow detrimental to everything which they had shared together to visit her physical resting place. It wouldn't signify paying his last respects, it would only be an negation of their mutual feelings. Nobody who truly understood Cleo would think that the grave claimed any part of who she was. To speak to her there, lay flowers on that stone slab, was so far removed from what she would have wanted, from where she really was.
"Lucas?"
Lucas met Bridger's patient gaze. It was almost a surprise to see him there, to be confronted with a living human being when his heart and mind were inextricably entwined with the dead. It highlighted with frightening colour how his image of Cleo had changed, how warped it had become. She barely had any human traits anymore. Lucas could perfectly capture her eyes, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the tiny mole on her collar bone. Sometimes he could even feel her warm breath against his neck. But it wasn't the same anymore. It was heady, like something extracted from a vivid dream, feeling so much like reality but never tangible to be held. That was Cleo now. In the short days since her death, she had already been drawn into the claws of his subconscious mind, never to be released. She could never be more, never take on a new life. "No...thank you, captain."
Nathan nodded, solemnly. He had gone through so many different emotions when he had lost his wife and all had felt right. They had felt justified and appropriate. Sometimes it was difficult for other people to understand that reactions like Lucas' didn't mean that he didn't care, that he was callous. It was just one in a plethora of conflicting emotions turmoiled inside, each one fighting for supremacy. Not even their owner could tell which one would succeed. "Okay. But if you ever change your mind or if there's anything I can do, just say the word."
Bridger squeezed the small, bony hand once more, then glanced down as Lucas winced. He was shocked to see droplets of blood smeared across the crisp, white bed covers. "Lucas, what happened to your hand?"
Lucas leaned over and shrugged. "Oh, I just cut my finger on something in my desk this morning. No big." Not one to accept this teenager's comment as the final word, he lifted the hand and looked closely at his finger. Satisfied, he said, "I'll just get a Band-Aid for it."
"It's really okay, captain."
Nathan paused in the doorway, "It's not you I'm worried about, more the sheets." Lucas attempted a taken aback expression but failed miserably, his mouth twitching into a smile instead. "I'll be back in a minute."
Lucas let out a long sigh as the captain left, whether out of some kind of relief or just a forceful exhalation, he wasn't sure. There were good reasons to be grateful for Bridger leaving him alone, not least of them the fact that he still had a lot of information turning round his brain which needed sorting through and the captain frequently had a knack of making it worse. For instance, asking him about Cleo was the last thing he felt like contemplating, but once the thought was there Lucas couldn't shake it. On the other hand, he really did appreciate Bridger being with him. It prevented him from sinking too deeply into the machinations of his own mind.
Speaking of making things worse though, simply by acknowledging a tiny cut, Bridger had managed to generate a throbbing in his finger. The more he tried to ignore it, the worse the pain became and Lucas was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on much at all. In fact, he was feeling weaker with every passing second and a cold shiver ran convulsively through his body. Lucas shuddered and pulled the bedclothes firmly up around his chest. He felt as if someone had just opened a door to let gusting draughts into the room.
By the time Bridger returned, the youngster was fading fast. At first, the captain was too busy with the Band-Aid for Lucas' finger to notice anything amiss. It was only when the shuddering trembles suddenly set in that Nathan looked up. "Lucas, are you okay?" He glanced back at the shaking fingers beneath his own steady ones. The teenager's face was white as a sheet, his blue eyes wide and sunken giving him a painfully cadaverous appearance. "I'm...co, cold," Lucas stuttered. Nathan passed a palm over the boy's forehead which had been hot only moments before but now the boy's temperature had dropped, radically. The room was already warm and it certainly shouldn't be having such an adverse effect on him.
Barely had the words left his lips than Lucas doubled up, clutching at his stomach, gasping, "It...it, hurts! God, it hurts so much!" Cold shivers were quickly replaced with prickling through his flesh, escalating into sharp slashes of pain which he could not allay. They tore through him right to the bone and he bit is lip in an effort to suppress the cries which threatened to burst forth. Bridger leaned over the boy in horror, his hands hovering over the writhing form. Every time he touched Lucas, the teenager moaned in agony. "Hold on, I'm getting Kristin!" Lucas was too immersed in his own physical nightmare to hear a word the captain said. He could only pray that the agony shorted out soon and let him sleep or at least became too unbearable for him to remain conscious.