Alexis, in prison blues, sat cross-legged on the cot in her cell. She surveyed her surroundings with serenity. Her accommodations, while spare were quite comfortable. She had a warm place to sleep, a place to take care of her personal needs, there was even a small desk. If not for the constant bright light and the total lack of privacy, her cell would more than rival her childhood living quarters on the Cassadine Island.

Alexandra Davidovich did not share in the luxurious life of the Cassadines. As a poor relation, dropped into the household after the "accident" that deprived her of her parents, Alexandra was treated more as a servant than a relative. On the rare occasions Mikkos was present, Alexandra was allowed to dine with the family. Most nights she ate with the kitchen staff. Her living quarters were sparse by any measure. Not that a lack of luxury bothered Alexandra. She held no desire for the royal wealth and power of the Cassadines. She would have been far happier had the Royal Family ignored her altogether. She wanted nothing from the Cassadines, nothing from Helena, nothing from The Prince. Unfortunately, Helena and her first born seemed to delight in torturing her.



Helena Cassadine always traveled with an entourage. An array of servants, attendants and guards followed her every move. Today the entourage enveloped Alexandra Davidovich. She was carried along, held captive in the grasp of the two handsome escorts that always attended the mistress of the house. Helena had decided she would personally handle Alexandra's punishment, so even if the soulless men were inclined, no mercy could be shown. Alexandra fought back tears. Their viselike grip was bruising, but she knew the worst was yet to come. She should never have touched The Prince.

Helena was fuming. The situation was becoming intolerable. Alexandra was a constant irritant. She was always there, a smart, beautiful child who commanded entirely too much attention from her husband and sons. Mikkos gave few external signs of his interest, but Helena knew her husband well. He was proud of the child. His affection for the mongrel was deep and strong, perhaps stronger than the feelings he had for his sons. She could see it, as did Stavros. Stefan saw it too, but he didn't seem to care. He adored the young teen and poured every ounce of love he had into her. He defied his parents and his Prince to protect her.

As for The Prince, Alexandra vexed Stavros. Even given her lowly state in the family, she shined. The Cassadine Prince knew she was sharper and more intelligent than he. The tutors were always impressed with her work. Mikkos was impressed as well, more impressed than he was with his first born. This waif commanded his father's respect and more than a little affection. Stavros instinctively knew he did not hold the same place in his father's heart that this poor relation did. That was unacceptable. He was The Prince. He was to be loved above all others. It was his right. It was his due. Alexandra angered him, frustrated him, distracted him, and kept him from his true purpose.

It started the moment he first met his "cousin". The young prince delighted in physical and emotional torture of the child. Every time he returned home from his studies abroad, he had new and more inventive ways to torment her. Helena initially encouraged him in his recreation. A prince needs to learn the techniques of dominance and control. But much to his dismay, whatever torments he visited upon Alexandra could not crush her spirit. She endured his torture, always emerging with a quiet dignity that impressed all. Stavros was constantly frustrated. He was The Prince, yet he could not master a small child. And a beautiful child she was, all soft chestnut curls and expressive brown eyes. Now that she was growing into womanhood, she was even more beautiful. It made his need to master her greater.

Stavros had recently discovered the best way to master a woman. Every Prince needed a consort. A consort must subjugate herself to her prince. This would be the way he would master his cousin. He intended to control her, mind, body and spirit. Helena worried that her son was becoming obsessed with his half-sister.

Helena noted with satisfaction Alexandra's fear. She had no pity for the young teen. This was all Alexandra's fault. She tempted Stavros. He thought he was toying with his cousin. Had he known she was his half-sister, he would not have made such advances. He could not make those kinds of advances again. Stavros was very much on Helena's mind. He was now confined to his bed. The doctors said there was no permanent injury. The Cassadine line was secure. He could still procreate.

Borya Voronin lead the entourage down the cold dank passageway. The old man had spent half a century in the service of the Cassadines. He'd spent his youth fighting to restore the monarchy. He'd fought against both Hitler and Stalin in World War II. He'd won victories and suffered defeats. He'd killed and maimed and caused considerable pain to his fellow man. He'd done things in the name of the Tsars that he wasn't always proud of, but he'd done them, without question or regret. He was an honored soldier then. Soldiers are sometimes asked to do the unthinkable for noble causes. But what noble cause did he have to excuse his actions today?

He held his lantern high, peering down the ancient cavernous tunnels that honeycombed the lower levels of the estate. He knew the route and the destination well. He'd lead others here, men who had valuable information, or who had betrayed the monarchy. Here, their cries would not be heard. Here, information was gathered and lessons taught. Here men would be escorted in, but needed to be carried out. He was a soldier then, dealing with other military men. Men who chose their way of life and lived and died by the choices they'd made. There was some honor in the deeds of his youth. How could one find honor in the torture of a 13-year-old girl?

He opened the heavy oak door and lead the entourage inside. Borya looked down at Alexandra. She was shaking, but struggled to hide her fear. Her eyes stared up at him, filled with tears she refused to let fall. Her mouth was pressed in a thin line. She refused to beg for help or mercy.

"Chain her to the wall." Helena commanded.

Borya stepped aside as the two escorts dragged Alexandra to the wall. They each grabbed a wrist and yanked the child into the air. They quickly snapped the manacles shut. The chains bolted to the wall were meant for men much larger than the petite teen. She dangled, arms outstretched. The chains were too high and too far apart to allow Alexandra's feet to touch the concrete floor. The weight of her body pulled her diaphragm down, filling her lungs to capacity. It also prevented her from exhaling. Did madame Cassadine intend to crucify the child? Alexandra immediately began to kick at the wall. Suspended as she was, she could not exhale without lifting her entire body weight by her outstretched arms. It was a task that she would not be able to continue for very long. Every breath was agony. She desperately needed to take her weight off her arms. Borya watched as the child struggled.

"Madame Cassadine, I am in awe of your choice of punishment. I'm sure my master will understand the mercy you have shown."

Helena's eyebrows arched. "You believe Mikkos will consider my actions merciful, Borya?"

"A proper crucifixion should take days, but the child is too small for the chains. Look how she already struggles to breathe. Without a stool to stand on, she will live no more than twenty minutes. The child's conduct was reprehensible and deserves a proper punishment, but I expect my master will understand if you would prefer a quick end to this."

Helena looked at Alexis as she pushed and kicked against the wall. She hadn't really considered that hanging the child in this manner was in effect crucifying her. She smiled. Crucifixion, what a delightful way to rid herself of the burden that Alexandra was to her life, but Borya was right. If she were to crucify the child, it should be done properly. Alexandra should suffer as Helena had suffered every day since Mikkos brought his bastard child into her home. Every day she had to look into the bright beautiful eyes of living proof that her husband loved another. Every day she saw her husband look at this child, who was the image of her mother, with an all consuming love. He was not overt. He hid his emotions well. To the casual observer, he was a benevolent, if reserved monarch taking in an orphaned niece. He made sure she was clothed, fed and schooled. He did not dote on the child. He spent little actual time in her presence. So skilled was he that Helena doubted Alexandra was aware of the deep affection he hid, but she could see it. Her husband loved his daughter and he still loved her whore of a mother.

Their marriage was a strong, complicated alliance. It could survive many disappointments and more than a few betrayals, but there were lines she could not cross. Mikkos would never forgive her if his daughter died. Alexandra's death would mean her own. Helena turned to the teen. Alexandra had stopped kicking. Her efforts at raising her chest were becoming weaker. Her face was deathly white and her lips were turning blue. There was nothing she wanted more than the death of this child, but the price was too high. Mikkos would seek vengeance. He almost killed her when he discovered Alexandra crying at the feet of her murdered mother. Only her acceptance of the bastard child in her household saved her life. The child deserved to die. No child of his illicit liaison should be allowed to live. Eventually Alexandra would be disposed of, but not today. Helena sighed.

"I am more merciful than this willful child deserves." She waved to her escorts. "Release her. Leave her here in darkness to contemplate her offenses." The beautiful soulless men jumped to do her bidding, then followed her out of the cell.

With the release of her manacles, Alexandra dropped to the cold concrete. Borya brought his lantern close to inspect the barely conscious child. Her breathing was shallow but regular. He doubted any permanent damage was done. Borya inwardly sighed in relief. He'd done many things he knew he would have to answer for in the next world, but he didn't want child killer to be on his slate when he met his maker. He in particular did not want to be responsible for the death of this child. Alexandra was a bright and beautiful child, forced to bare the burden of her parents sins. Borya knew her true identity. He'd been a trusted servant to Mikkos for a long time. There were few Cassadine secrets he did not know. He knew the torments Alexandra endured, both the ones she remembered and the ones too terrible to remember.

He stopped at the door and held the lantern high for one last look. Alexandra gazed at him in gratitude, understanding and fear. He'd saved her life, but he was about to plunge her into darkness. He quickly looked away. He couldn't face those eyes, so innocent, so frightened and so old. He swung the door closed.

Alexandra awoke to the sound of heavy pounding. Someone was trying to break the door down. She heard the heavy thuds, quickly followed by grunts of pain. It wasn't Helena or her minions. She had a key. It wasn't Borya. He'd exhausted all of his courage when he convinced Helena not to kill her. He wouldn't risk coming to rescue her. It could be only one person, but she was afraid to say his name. What if someone heard her cry for him. It could cause trouble for him. The last thing she wanted was more trouble for him.

"Alexandra! Alexandra, can you hear me?" Stefan grunted with effort as he threw his shoulder into the solid heavy door.

"Stefan!"

"Little One, I'm going to get you out!" Stefan summoned all of his strength and hurled himself at the door. He cried out in agony.

Alexandra rushed to the door. Her fingers pressed against rough oak as if by touching it, she could touch her cousin. "Stefan! Are you alright?"

Stefan slumped to the floor. Daggers of pain shot through him. Groaning, he pressed his back against the door and assessed the situation. He'd heard his shoulder pop before he felt the pain. The last assault on the door had dislocated it. Stefan breathed hard through clenched teeth. The white-hot pain would continue until he could somehow pop the shoulder back in. He banged his head against the door in frustration. He could not go for help or medical assistance. If his mother found out, it would not end well for Alexandra. She would not be simply interned in the cold and darkness. No, his mother would think of a far worse punishment. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He had failed in his efforts to save Alexandra. Unless he could find a way hide his injury, he would cause her more hardships.

"Stefan! Stefan, please speak to me!" Alexandra was clearly frightened for him.

"I'm sorry Little One. I don't think I will be able to open the door." Stefan tried to keep his tone even, but his pain could be heard.

"You have injured yourself, haven't you? Go to Borya. He will help you."

"I'm fine Little One. You have no need to worry and I have no need of Borya's assistance."

Alexandra was correct. Borya would help him. He was a good man, but his allegiance was to his father. Stefan could not count on Borya's silence. In fact he was certain his father would learn of his injuries, would learn of Alexandra's confinement. Mikkos would return to the island and demand answers. His mother would invent egregious offenses and attribute them to Alexandra. She would parade witnesses in front of his father to back up her lies. Mikkos would have no choice but to punish Alexandra himself. He was never cruel to her and he didn't allow corporal punishment. In fact, his punishments usually consisted of banishment to her room. But once he left the estate, Helena ruled the household. Her concept of acceptable punishment was much different from her husband's. His mother was an inventive woman. Alexandra would suffer. And his father always left the estate. It seemed Mikkos could not tolerate the company of his wife and family for long periods of time. He would rarely spend more than a week at home before his important experiments would call him away. Mikkos was focused more on science than family.

Stefan took a deep breath and slammed his shoulder into the door again. This time the pain came before the pop. It stabbed through his shoulder and radiated down his arm as the shoulder returned to its proper place. He cried out.

"Stefan!"

"It's alright Little One." Stefan grunted. The shoulder continued to throb, but the pain was considerably less. "I'm sorry. I will not be able to open the door. I seem to have injured my shoulder." Stefan shifted to a more comfortable position. "Don't worry. I will stay with you, until you are released. This will be over soon. Remember. We won't always be pawns in this life. We will endure..."

Alexandra moved to sit with her back against the old oak door. She remembered the litany. It was the guiding philosophy of their existence. "We will survive..." She continued.

"We will prevail" Stefan finished.



The sound of creaking leather and too quiet footfalls pulled Alexis out of the past. It was too early for the late watch officer to make his nightly rounds.

"Hello Luke." Alexis didn't look up.

"Natasha, you look good in prison blue!"

Alexis glanced up as Luke Spencer rocked back and forth on his heels. One hand rested on a nightstick. The other fiddled with the handcuffs tucked into the back of his belt. He seemed proud of his disguise.

"You look entirely too comfortable as a cop, Luke."

"Natasha, you wound me. I scammed these duds, just so I could visit you."

Alexis' gaze locked on Luke's hands, still fingering the cuffs. "I think you like the tools of bondage."

Luke grinned. "Darlin' if I was interested in that tonight, these cuffs would be fur lined. Only the best for my favorite Cassadine. You called. I came. What's up?"

"I need your help."

"If you want to break out of this tin can, I'm your man. I can have you outta here inside of 24 hours. Gettin' you and the rug rat out of the country will take a little more time..."

"I don't want you to break me out of jail, Luke." Alexis interupted. "At least not yet. I want you to help me find my brother."

"Vlad? The prince of darkness is back at Wyndemere...

"It's not Stefan."

" ...probably plotting the murder of some other innocent girl..."

"It's not him."

" ...or he's leading my wife's demon spawn down the road to perdition."

"Luke, it's not Stefan."

Luke was pacing outside the cell. "I swear Natasha. Your brother is becoming more like his bloodsucking mama by the minute."

Alexis gracefully rose from the cot and paced parallel to Luke. "He's not my brother. I mean he is my brother, technically, but I've never considered him my brother. Luke, he's not my brother!"

"Natasha, you're not making sense."

"Luke, you're not listening to me!" Alexis stopped pacing and grabbed the bars. "That man living at Wyndemere, that man managing the Cassadine finances, that man who framed me and put me in this cell, that man playing "uncle" to Nikolas is not Stefan Cassadine...

"Natasha, I thought you were faking the whole looney tunes thing." Luke grinned as he approached. Alexis gave him a withering glare. "Okay, how can Vlad not be Vlad?"

"He can be Stavros"

"Stavros is dead. I killed him... twice!"

Alexis turned and walked back toward the cot. "Apparently you're not very good at it Luke. Try harder next time."

"Natasha..."

"Stavros is alive and living at Wyndemere."

"What are you saying?"

Alexis strode to the bars. "I'm saying Stavros surgically altered himself and is masquerading as my brother Stefan. I'm saying Stavros isn't dead. I'm saying Stavros has destroyed the Cassadine finances. I'm saying Stavros is trying to steal Nikolas' soul. I'm saying Stavros killed your friend Summer and he has my brother locked up somewhere and I need your help to find him!"

"Vlad is not Vlad?" Luke stepped back in disbelief.

Alexis shook her head. "No. He's not"

"Stavros is Vlad?" Alexis nodded. "And you want ME to find Vlad for you?"

"Help me find him. Yes"

Luke began to pace outside the cell. "Natasha, you know I like you. Of your entire twisted family, you're about the only one I can stomach, plus you got legs that..." He stopped and began a long perusal.

"Thanks Luke" Alexis cut him off before the conversation got too far off topic.

"You're welcome." Luke bowed slightly, but quickly turned serious. "Why would I want to find Vlad? I hate him almost as much as that zombie Stavros. If the cannibalistic Cassadines made a meal of him, all the better for me." He started to walk away. "Cannibalistic Cassadines! Ha, good one. I gotta use that one again..."

Alexis strained against the bars. "You'll help me find Stefan, because when we find Stefan, we'll also find Laura."

Luke stopped, anger flared in his eyes. "I know where Laura is. She's in a cold gray institution, a nut house. Put there by her sons, by your nephew and MY SON! She's lost to me, lost to herself." He turned away.

"I have reason to believe that's not Laura."

"That's nuts, Natasha! I saw her! I spoke to her!"

"Think about it, Luke. If I'm right about Stavros masquerading as Stefan, what's to keep him from creating a fake Laura?"

"You think that's not my Laura?" Luke edged closer to the cell.

"I'm sure that's not Laura. Think about it. What does Stavros want most in the world besides unlimited power? He wants to be a father to Nikolas and he wants Laura for himself."

"So he gets himself sliced and diced and comes out a Xerox of Vlad?"

"Nikolas has always loved Stefan as a father. He rejected Stavros in favor of Stefan. If Stavros returned as himself, Nikolas would reject him again."

"But if he looked like Stefan..."

"Nikolas would accept him as a father figure."

"And Laura?"

"Stavros has kidnapped her before..."

"But he knows I would never stop searching for her..."

"So he replaces her with a catatonic look-a-like..."

"And laughs while I mourn my wife..."

"It's the perfect revenge. He gets Laura. He gets Nikolas and he gains control of the Cassadine empire. But it didn't work. He's not Stefan. He can never be Stefan. He lost the family money. He lost Nikolas' love. He plotted to kill Emily. He killed Summer."

"The son of a bitch has my wife!" Luke grabbed the cell bars with white knuckled fists. Alexis jumped back. "I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna find Laura, then I'm gonna kill him. And this time he's gonna stay dead!"

"Luke keep your voice down!" Alexis touched his arm and glanced down the hall. No one seemed to notice Luke's tirade. "Will you help me find Stefan? Will you help me bring him home?"

"To get my Laura back, I'd pull Beelzebub from the fiery depths. Hell, it looks like that's what we're gonna have to do!" Luke smiled. "You gotta plan Natasha?"

"As a matter of fact I do. I'm going to give Stavros a lesson in chess."