Losing Balance
by Lionel

chapter 1

Alexis pulled her car into the driveway of the imposing brick house and paused for a moment before getting out. The garage door was open, revealing an oversized black Mercedes sedan parked on the right side. Someone might be home. Alexis had hoped just to slide the final bill for the custody case under the door and head home to Kristina. She had spent the day trying to sort out the mess that was Nikolas's estate - the estate had been probated just weeks ago in error, and now was likely to be probated again if Ric Lansing succeeded in having Nikolas declared dead -- and she was not in the mood for another confrontation with Carly or her gangster guard dog.

Alexis took a deep breath and opened the car door. As much as she dreaded seeing Carly or Alcazar, she was tired of running scared. She hated feeling powerless and afraid. It made her feel like the frightened little girl she had left behind so long ago, the terrified little girl thrown to the Cassadine wolves, the girl that Helena threatened and Stavros tormented and Mikkos ignored. It was the same way she had felt when she first learned she was Natasha, during those awful months when Helena held Alexis's life in her hands and forced Alexis to do her dirty bidding. Alexis never wanted to feel that way again.

Alexis approached the house and rang the doorbell. Carly and Alcazar might have the upper hand right now, but Alexis couldn't afford to stick her head in the sand. Carly and Alcazar both had the means and motive to blow up her fragile world, and the smartest thing that Alexis could do was to keep tabs on the two of them. Then she might have some warning if either one was ready to move - Carly by telling Sonny about Kristina, and Alcazar by seeking his long-delayed revenge.

She rang the doorbell again, and as she waited she debated idly which of the two she wanted to see less. Definitely Carly, she decided. Lorenzo would be physically menacing: he would stand too close, smirk humorlessly and stare her down with those intense blue eyes. Perhaps he would warn her again that he felt she had yet to be punished for killing his brother. But at least he would be brief and to the point, and somehow . . . mannerly in his menace. He wouldn't manhandle her. Carly, on the other hand, would no doubt insult her, taunt her and threaten her with elbows flying, probably grab Alexis when she tried to leave, and maybe slap Alexis if Carly felt especially insecure today.

No one came to the door. "What do you know . . . a little bit of luck for once," Alexis mumbled under her breath. She slid the envelope under the front door and headed back down the front steps and across the driveway to her car. As she neared the car, a noise came from the house. It sounded like a man's voice. Alexis stopped and listened more carefully. She heard it again. It was a man's voice, muffled and strained, but definitely a man's voice. And it sounded like he was calling for help.

Alexis approached the house warily, wondering what the hell Alcazar might have going on and considering whether she wanted to find out. "Help me!" she heard again. Something in the man's voice told her the situation was urgent, and she moved more quickly. Alexis looked in the windows at the front of the house, but there was no sign of anyone.

"Help me!" she heard again. "Is there someone out there?"

"Where are you?" Alexis yelled back.

"In the basement. It's flooding. Hurry."

Alexis looked down the side of the house and saw two half-size windows at ground level, windows that could only be to the basement. She knelt down and peered through the first window. The glass was grimy, but she could make out a man sprawled out on the floor, and some kind of big piece of furniture covering his lower body. She stood up, pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. "My name is Alexis Davis. I'm at 411 Lakeview Avenue. Send a rescue truck immediately. There's a man trapped in the basement. He's pinned under some furniture and the basement is flooding."

Alexis knelt down and tried to open the window, but it was stuck. She tried the next window, and was able to tilt it open a few inches. "I've called 911. They're sending a rescue team," she shouted.

"There isn't enough time. I can't sit up. I'm handcuffed to the desk, and I can't move these shelves. The water is coming in fast. Please help me now," the man pled, breathing roughly.

Though strained, the voice was familiar. "Lorenzo?" asked Alexis. "Is that you? What the hell is going on here?"

"Yes, it's Lorenzo. Who are you?"

"Alexis Davis," she answered more quietly.

Lorenzo let out a short bitter laugh. "Not my lucky day, is it?" he asked wryly. He wasn't so far gone he couldn't see the irony of the situation.

"Who did this to you?" Alexis asked warily.

There was a pause. "Carly." In the extremity of the situation, Lorenzo's usual icy demeanor was gone. Instead, his tone betrayed a mixture of surprise, anger, disappointment and ruefulness. "Please help me, Alexis."

Alexis took a breath. "I will. Is there an open door somewhere, or a key?"

"No, dammit. Security, you know?"

"Great. Hold on." Alexis looked around until she spotted a good-sized rock in the bushes. It would have to do. She picked it up, gripping it as firmly as she could. She knelt down by the open basement window, and slammed the rock down against the frame with all of her strength. The window opened a few more inches. She slammed the rock down, again and again, until the window tore away from the frame. The opening was no more than a foot high, but gave Alexis a better view of the situation in the basement. There wasn't much time.

"Hurry, Alexis!" Lorenzo's voice was wet.

Alexis looked around, but there was no sign of the rescue truck. Taking a deep breath, she kicked off her shoes. This wouldn't be easy. She took off her suit jacket and skirt, then lowered herself to her hands and knees with her back to the window. She inched backward, lowering her feet, then legs through the window, grabbing onto what remained of the frame with her hands. The floor was at least ten feet below the window, and she wasn't sure what was below her.

"You've got it! Hurry!" Lorenzo gasped.

Alexis slid herself further backward, lowering her hips over the window ledge, then dropped suddenly until she was hanging from the window ledge with her feet dangling below her. She wondered for a moment why the hell she was doing this, then dropped. As she hit the ground, a sharp pain shot through her right ankle and up to her knee. "Ahh!" she yelped. Loose boards littered the floor below the window, and she had landed on one, turning her ankle viciously. It felt broken.

Trying to ignore the excruciating pain, she limped through the water to where Lorenzo lay on the ground. The water was only a foot high, but he was trapped almost flat on the ground, his legs pinned by a large metal bookshelf that appeared to have fallen on him, and his hands trapped above his head by handcuffs looped around the leg of a desk. It was only by sitting up as far the restraints allowed - doing a kind of half-crunch - that Lorenzo could get his face above the water and get a breath. That wouldn't work much longer, Alexis noted.

She gave a pull on the bookshelf, but she couldn't get any kind of leverage. She tried to move the desk closer to Lorenzo, but it wouldn't budge. It was bolted to the floor. She looked around, feeling a little desperate. Lorenzo had less than a minute. Suddenly a calm came over Alexis, and the incipient panic receded. She could almost feel her intellect take over, with clarity and precision and quickness, in the same way it did in the courtroom making her feel completely in control of a cross-examination or appellate argument.

Moving quickly despite the agony in her leg, Alexis found a pair of large garden shears and a hose in the corner of the basement and cut a foot-long segment. She waded to where Lorenzo lay, and holding up his head as best she could she put the makeshift snorkel in his mouth. He nodded approval and relief to her as he began to breathe through the hose. She gently lowered his head to the floor. The hose would buy him some more time, but there was still no sign of any rescue team.

Alexis picked up the garden shears and moved to the desk. She positioned the shears around the handcuff chain and braced one handle of the shears against the floor. She pushed down hard on the other handle, grimacing at the pain shooting up her right leg. Nothing happened. She adjusted her position, and tried again. Slowly the metal chain gave way, a little bit at first, then all at once with a loud snap, and Alexis fell roughly to the floor.

Lorenzo's hands were freed. He sat up quickly, tossing aside the garden hose and taking full, deep, gasping breaths of the dank basement air. He wiped away the water pouring down his face. His eyes found Alexis, and he nodded gratefully, not yet able to speak. Finally he caught his breath. "The bookshelf. Between the two of us we should be able to lift it."

Alexis crawled through the water to the bookshelf. Kneeling, she grabbed hold of the shelf that had Lorenzo's hip pinned. He pushed up from his position on the floor, and she pulled. The bookshelf raised an inch, then two, and Lorenzo slid his legs out from underneath just before the bookshelf came crashing back down. He was free.

Alexis collapsed to her hands and knees, her face barely clear of the water but no longer able to summon the strength to move. As the adrenaline in her system subsided, the pain from her leg seemed to grow and radiate through her hip, up her spinal column and into her brain. She began to shake. A soft cry escaped her lips.

Lorenzo looked up sharply. He had been busy inspecting the damage to his own body, tentatively moving his left leg, then his right. He was bewildered to find Alexis in agony. "What's wrong, Alexis? What happened?" He asked gently.

"My ankle," she answered through gritted teeth. "I hurt it when I came in the window. I think it's broken."

"Jesus, Alexis. Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't think you'd hear me," she muttered wryly. "Your head was under water. My ankle didn't seem that important at the time."

"Well don't move. We need to get you upstairs, out of this water, and get you warm. I'll carry you up."

Alexis just nodded weakly. Lorenzo stood up and took a tentative step toward Alexis. His legs wobbled, but held. "Just give me a minute to get my legs under me. I think they're okay, but the feeling is a little slow to come back."

Alexis crouched there, trying to control her breathing. She summoned every pain avoidance technique she'd learned from Stefan and from Lamaze class, and every pain endurance lesson she'd taught herself as a child, and tried to push the pain back down.

After a minute, Lorenzo took a trial step, then another and another. He bounced up and down. "Okay. They'll hold." He reached down and put his hands under Alexis's arms, pulling her up gently until she was standing on one leg. With a smooth motion he swept her up into his arms, as easily and carefully as one would a child. Despite his care, Alexis's injured leg dangled awkwardly beneath her. She let out a soft groan, and buried her face in Lorenzo's chest. With his chin to her forehead, Lorenzo tenderly but firmly tilted her head up. "Look into my eyes, Alexis. Don't let the pain overtake you. Focus on my eyes, and push it back."

Alexis did as she was told. She was momentarily shaken by the intensity of those blue eyes, in which for the first time she saw compassion and not contempt. She had to admit they made an excellent focal point. It was easy to get lost in them. She stayed focused on his eyes as Lorenzo began the cautious trek to the stairs and up, stepping carefully and never counting on his legs to hold him. He seemed so strong and solid, and Alexis couldn't help but feel safe, even though she knew his steps were precarious. Through the pain, she felt her body's unwilling response to the intimate sensation of being in a strong man's arms. She was suddenly acutely aware that she was wearing nothing but her silk blouse and slip, and both were drenched. "Stop it, Alexis," she said to herself disgustedly. "You're like one of Pavlov's dogs. He's a criminal and he hates you. And he really needs a shower and shave."

A soft smile came to Lorenzo's lips, and Alexis was terrified that he'd been reading her mind, or at least her body. She pulled her eyes away, breaking the connection. They were at the top of the stairs finally, and Lorenzo crossed the living room and set Alexis down gently on a couch. "We made it," he said with relief. "I'll get towels." He disappeared into the bathroom.

As Lorenzo re-entered the living room with an armful of towels, sirens erupted in the distance. Lorenzo and Alexis looked at each other and shared a knowing, disgusted laugh. "And here at last comes the cavalry," he said.

As the sirens grew louder, Alexis could make out the distinct sirens of ambulance, fire and police. "Sounds like they waited until everybody could come."

Lorenzo dropped the towels and walked quickly to a library table in the corner. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a small key, removed the handcuff shackles that remained on his wrists and tossed everything back in the drawer. Alexis watched curiously.

The sirens stopped suddenly. A moment later there was pounding on the front door. "Police! Open up!"

Alexis watched from the couch as Lorenzo went to the door. He looked annoyed, but not surprised. He opened the door, taking care to keep his hands visible. Taggart and three other cops stood on the other side, guns drawn. Taggart looked disappointed to see Lorenzo upright and no trouble in sight. "Can I help you gentlemen?" Lorenzo asked politely.

"We're investigating a report of a person held captive in the basement at this address," Taggart answered brusquely. "We're going to have to take a look around, Mr. Alcazar."

"That's ridiculous, officer. What we need is for that ambulance crew to get in here. Ms. Davis requires immediate medical attention," Lorenzo said angrily.

Taggart looked in the door and saw Alexis on the couch. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her presence and state of undress. "I'm sorry, Ms. Davis, but knowing the kind of trouble associated with this address, I can't let that ambulance crew in without the police clearing it first."

"Taggart, just send in the damn EMTs," Alexis pled, exasperated. "There is nothing nefarious going on here, and you aren't going to use this as an excuse to snoop around Mr. Alcazar's home." Alexis sat up straighter, despite the pain. She was getting angry. Alcazar might be a thug, but she couldn't stand to watch Taggart abuse the Fourth Amendment. "I'm sure you don't have a warrant, you don't have his consent and you have no other legitimate cause to enter his home. There was no report of a person held captive. I'm the one who made the damn emergency call. I said there was someone trapped in the basement. That someone was Mr. Alcazar. And he isn't trapped there anymore, no thanks to you." Alexis sank back down with a groan. She was angry, she was in pain, and she was once again vividly aware of being half-dressed, now in front of an audience of cops. Only Taggart had the decency to be surreptitious in his ogling. Lorenzo saw Alexis's discomfort and moved smoothly to the couch, picking up one of the towels he had dropped and gently draping it over Alexis.

"And how did you get trapped, Mr. Alcazar?" Taggart asked tauntingly.

"It was an unfortunate accident," Lorenzo replied. "I was working in the basement. I foolishly stepped on a shelf to reach a tool on the top, and the whole shelving unit fell on me. I was trapped for some time. Fortunately for me, Ms. Davis arrived and took action most remarkably. And for her trouble she ended up with a broken ankle." He spoke angrily now. "So I suggest you send that ambulance crew in here immediately if you don't want to be sued for withholding medical attention."

Taggart looked more closely at Alexis and noticed for the first time the pain etched in her face. Then he looked down at her ankle and winced. He turned away from the door and waved. "Send them in. Fast," he called.

The ambulance crew came in with a stretcher and went to work on Alexis. They took her vital signs and carefully inspected her leg.

"Ms. Davis, one more question." Taggart wouldn't let up. "You seem to have been the first one on the scene here. What did Mr. Alcazar tell you about how he ended up trapped here?"

"Would you leave the woman alone, Detective!" Lorenzo insisted, raising his voice. He didn't want Alexis to answer that question - he didn't expect her to lie to the police for him - but he also saw how miserable she was under the manipulation of the EMTs.

"Taggart," Alexis said wearily. "Whatever Mr. Alcazar did or did not say to me was said in confidence. You know I won't share privileged communications with you."

"You're this guy's attorney?" Taggart asked incredulously. Lorenzo, too, raised his eyebrows and looked at Alexis curiously.

"Yes, Taggart," she answered. "I'm providing limited representation to Mr. Alcazar in an isolated matter. In fact, I came to his house today to drop off a bill. And I guess it's a good thing that I did." Lorenzo smiled. Everything she said was true, if a bit misleading. He would write a generous check to Ms. Davis this evening to compensate for this limited representation. "Now please leave, Taggart. You're trespassing."

Taggart looked around appraisingly one last time, then with obvious reluctance turned around and left.

Lorenzo quickly went to the couch and knelt by Alexis's side. "How does she look?" he asked.

"Well, it's definitely broken, maybe a compound fracture," answered a red-haired EMT. "We're stabilizing the leg now, and then we'll get her down to the hospital. They'll x-ray her in the ER and see if it'll need surgery."

Alexis groaned as an air cast was placed around her ankle. Lorenzo could see that without the distraction of dealing with Taggart and his men, the pain was taking over again. "Can you give her something for the pain?"

"Once we get her in the truck we'll set up an i.v.," answered the red-haired man.

Lorenzo took her hand firmly, and gently turned her face to meet his eyes. "Look at me, Alexis," he said softly.

Alexis felt herself falling into those blue eyes again. "My daughter," Alexis exclaimed weakly, trying to sit up. "I was supposed to be home by now."

"I don't think you'll make it home tonight, Alexis. Would you like me to call Mr. Ashton?" Lorenzo offered.

"No," Alexis said emphatically. "I can't do that. His help costs more than I can afford," she added bitterly. Alexis ignored the question in Lorenzo's raised eyes. "I'll call the sitter. Maybe Alice can stay the night. If not . . ." Alexis trailed off, not sure who else she had left to lean on.

"I'll call," Lorenzo said. "What is the number?"

Lorenzo dialed the number and spoke in his most formidable business manner: "Is this Alice? Good. This is Lorenzo Alcazar. I'm with Ms. Davis. She has had an accident and will be at General Hospital overnight. You will need to stay with her daughter until further notice. You will be well compensated for your time."

Alexis's jaw dropped as she imagined how terrifying this phone call must be to Alice. Alexis grabbed the phone from Lorenzo's hand. "Alice, Alice, I'm sorry about that. This is Alexis. Yes, yes, I'm fine. I just hurt my ankle. Is Kristina okay? Can you stay with her tonight? Are you sure it's not too much trouble? Okay, thank you so much. Give her a big hug and kiss and tell her I love her and miss her so much. Call me at the hospital if you need me. Okay, bye."

Alexis wiped away a tear with the back of her hand and handed the phone back to Lorenzo. She looked at him with amusement. "Not so good with people, are you? You terrified the poor woman."

Lorenzo laughed at himself good-humoredly. "I'm sorry about that. I'm afraid I don't get out in the real world as much as I should."

"Sorry folks," interrupted the other EMT. "We need to get Ms. Davis on the stretcher now. Please step back, sir."

"I'd like to stay with Ms. Davis on the trip to the hospital," Lorenzo stated firmly.

"I'm sorry, sir, but unless you're family we can't allow that."

Lorenzo looked at Alexis and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. He gave Alexis's hand a squeeze, then dropped it and moved back from the couch. The sudden absence left her cold. "Wait, what about you?" Alexis interjected. "Lorenzo, you need to see a doctor too. You should get that hip checked out. And you're probably dehydrated."

Lorenzo nodded. "I will. I'm going to take a quick shower and put on some dry clothes, then I'll meet you down at the hospital. I can get checked out there."

"Okay. Stay out of the basement, Lorenzo," she added with a tight smile. Alexis yelped as the EMTs transferred her to the stretcher. And then she was out the door.

Lorenzo stood there for a minute after the door had closed, trying to absorb everything that had happened that afternoon. Alexis Davis. It was all so unlikely, and entirely surprising, and truly remarkable. And more than a little disturbing. Lorenzo picked up the towels from the couch and the floor, wiped up the puddles he and Alexis had left and dropped the towels in the laundry room. Then he picked up the phone and dialed.

"Antonio, it's me. I want you to send someone over here to replace the locks on the house and reprogram the security system as soon as possible. Pack up anything that Mrs. Corinthos has left at the house and send it to her at her husband's penthouse. Cancel her credit cards and any other accounts she's opened in my name. Pull the protection from her and her kids. She's unimportant to us. She's her husband's problem now. Thank you." Lorenzo hung up. He felt relieved. Now he was really free.

Lorenzo walked to the bathroom, stripping off his wet clothes as he went. He turned on the shower and stepped in. First he scrubbed himself clean. He scrubbed away the hours endured in that cold wet basement and he scrubbed away the months wasted on Carly Corinthos. Freed from his delusion, he now couldn't remember, couldn't imagine, what he had ever seen in Carly. When finally he felt cleansed, he turned to face the stream of hot water and stood perfectly still, eyes closed, thinking, processing. Lorenzo knew he had been wrong about Alexis Davis, and it troubled him. He had an excellent memory, and he replayed the entire afternoon in his mind - every smile or grimace or touch, every emotion that played across her eyes - trying to make sense of the woman and his reaction to her, trying to make sense of the situation. When he thought of Luis, he felt a bitterness in his stomach. But when he thought of the way Alexis looked in that slip and the way she felt in his arms, the bitterness disappeared and he felt something else entirely.

When he was done, Lorenzo stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He picked up the phone again and redialed. "Antonio. Another thing. I want you to find out everything there is to know about Alexis Davis. Yes, that Alexis Davis. I want everything. I want to know where she took her first communion. I want to know what her daddy gave her when she turned sixteen. I want to know what she eats for breakfast. I want every job, every lover, everything. Use money, use connections. And make it quick."

chapter  2