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The
Road Trip Series Martin Luther King Day - January 19, 2004 Alexis gazed wistfully at the snowflakes flitting about in the frosty wind, their relentless search for respite a wild gypsy dance as they sought safe haven until the inevitability of the sun's return renders their lacey presence merely a memory. Lifespans created from the icy breath of time to be lived moment to moment until forces from without shatter their gentle edges returning them to nothingness, to the void from which they evolved. People as much as snowflakes, she thought sadly. Motion from the park below distracted her and she watched as Zander joined Cameron and Kristina, took her daughter's hands and twirled her around in the snow. She was happy he made his way to the park, to his family. It was not a happy holiday for him as Emily walked away from their marriage and his life seemed ready again to crash and burn, a desperate slippery slope he knew only too well. I won't ever allow that to happen, she vowed, touching the glass and laughing as she caught them all dropping to the ground to make snow angels. Snow angels… ice castles… Shangri-La… Her eyes drifted to the snowglobe she had carefully deposited on the mantel, far away from her pondering heart yet close enough to taunt her. The stone house with its family on skis startled her but oddly brought not one memory kicking to the surface of her mind. Since the day she recalled her heritage the past revealed itself slowly, almost painfully, in isolated flashes of memory and she knew there was much more to the child's life she had lived long ago than her mind was ready for her heart to bear. So she waited quietly for solitary moments of revelation, for keys to open the rusted locks of her mind to reveal the life… her life… that still remained a mystery. She stared again at the rectangular sign tacked to the small stone house, its Russian words tapping a message to her heart. Her father never did anything without strategy or purpose, even when he had gone quite mad, and she knew this snowglobe with its intricate designs held a secret - and a message. "Papa, what were you trying to tell me? You always had a plan…" she whispered to herself as she lifted the globe into her hand and walked back to the window. And that was where Cameron found her, huddled cross-legged in the cheery windowseat as she stared out at the world, restlessly tossing an object back and forth in her hands. "I see you finally decided to open those boxes," he said, carefully tiptoeing around the legal documents and old parchments scattered on the floor as he walked over to her. "Did you find anything useful?" The sound of his voice startled her and she glared at him, "Just scare me half to death why don't you!" He made a face. "I was singing your name… loudly… since I started walking down the hall. Only someone with an advanced hearing problem wouldn't have heard that…" "Braying sound?" she retorted as she regained her composure and gripped the snowglobe tighter. He pouted. "I was thinking of singing more in the vein of Tony Bennett, actually." "Delusional much?" she winked as he leaned down and kissed her and droplets fell from his hair onto her nose. "Hey, you're all wet!" "I've heard that before," he chuckled as he shook his head in her face showering her with melted snow. "What do you expect, making snow angels is hard work and your daughter is a taskmistress when it comes to fun in the snow." "Chip off the old block, I guess," she said quietly as she handed him the snowglobe. He shook it and stared at the flakes falling on the roof of the little house. "Very pretty…where did you get this?" She tucked her chin into her shoulder and wrapped her arms around her chest. "It was in the box from the Paris apartment. It was with all the other knickknacks." He gazed at the three figures. "You and your mother and father?" She nodded as her body shivered. "Shangri-La." He knelt next to her and looked deeply into her eyes. "How do you know? Maybe it is just a snowglobe." She took the globe from him and pointed to the small sign. "It is in Russian… Shangri-La." He stared at the globe and then back at her. "Do you remember this place?" "No," she said sadly, "not at all." He sighed and lifted her chin and kissed her lips gently. "You will remember and we will find it, I promise." She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her and held her close. "You seem chilled. Let's go and sit by the fire. Zander is in the living room playing with Kristina and I'll whip up some hot cider." She snuggled her head into the crook of his neck and sighed. "Sounds like heaven! How is he doing?" He looked tired and sad. "You know my son… the phrase 'false bravado' was coined for him. He tries not to show his feelings but he is hurting. I just don't understand Emily." "And I don't understand my nephew Nikolas. Let Zander talk when he needs to and don't push. He needs to be able to count on you without the overbearing fatherly attitude." He kissed her nose and saluted. "Aye, general. And on to another topic…don't forget today is New Year's Day and whatever you do today…" She laughed and batted his cheek as she sank to the ground from his arms and sprinted from his reach over to the door of the office. "So you will do the rest of the year. I'm holding you to all the parameters of that legend, pal." "Oh, satisfaction guaranteed… all day… all the year to come," Cameron laughed wickedly as he picked up the snowglobe, shaking it as he set it onto the mantel, an odd look flashing across his face as he stared closely at the stone house. Alexis turned back, her hand stretched out awaiting his. "Everything okay?" He shrugged. "Of course… let's go and see what trouble our kids have got themselves into." * * * Cameron looked down upon her face, gentle in repose as she slept quietly next to him, her breathing deep and even. He'd kept his promise last night… and if the New Year's legend is true, every day of the coming year will be filled with her in his arms, every night a passionate interlude, every day a joyful wonder. She looked at peace and he couldn't recall a moment since he met her when that word could be applied to Alexis Davis née Natasha Cassadine. He never thought of her as Natasha, the exotic name Luke tossed about easily and intimately when he spoke to her, but he knew she was part of who Alexis was, the woman she tried to keep hidden like an eccentric relative or black sheep of the family. She made a life for herself in spite of who she was born but it seemed no matter how she tried, her life was pulled back to the past. He thought about the snowglobe and the paper legacy from her father and Helena's machinations. Her past was infringing on her present now more than ever. He vowed to be with her every step of the way until she faced whatever the past and Helena brought to her door. She was that vital to his life. A vision of the snowglobe flashed across his mind and he slipped from bed and pulled on his robe. He gazed down at her, depositing a kiss on her forehead before he closed the door and padded down to the office. He turned on the desk lamp and walked over to the fireplace, now cold and filled with ash. He chuckled as he looked up and saw her mounted fish, now with a silk handkerchief covering the eyes she swore followed her. He picked up the snowglobe and walked to the desk, searching until he found a magnifying glass. He shook the globe gently and watched the flakes waft down onto the scene captured in glass. He looked closely at the figures, marveling at the artist's attention to detail all the way down to their clothes and features. Their heads were covered but he could see wisps of brown hair peeping out from beneath the little girl's cap, a match for her deep brown eyes. He could almost see Alexis in that little figure, imagining her delicate hands encased in mittens as she grasped the ski poles. The man was dressed in a black snowsuit, his cap pulled low over dark hooded eyes. The woman was slight of build and her hat could not quite capture her flowing blonde tresses, a few tiny curls caressing her forehead as her deep blue eyes reflected the glistening snow. He noticed something shimmer amid the fluid and flakes and moved the magnifying glass closer and his breath caught in his throat. Around the woman's neck was a necklace, a diamond on a gold chain. And around the little girl's neck was another, an exact match to that of the woman. He exhaled deeply and sat back, rubbing his beard with his hand. "Two necklaces," he whispered. He continued to study the globe, an hour passed and then another when he finally found it, what he thought he saw when he set the globe back onto the mantel yesterday. The stone house was topped by a chimney so real he could almost feel the heat of the smoke that escaped into the air. A weathervane, a tiny wrought iron masterpiece with elaborate curlicues, stood sentinel over snow that slightly elevated behind the house like a ski slope. On the slight incline were slivers of crystal, their iridescent colors playing hide and seek with the pearlescent snow and the diffused light from the globe. They were scattered about here and there and one could easily assume they were ice crystals planted in the snow for mere artistic effect. But when he held the globe at a certain angle and allowed the light to diffuse directly, the slivers formed the outline of an object bathed in the shadow cast by the weathervane, an object he had touched but a single part of but whose legacy lives in his mind. She
looked down at the crystal shard, a sliver of her past with a message,
as she turned it in the light. "One perfect crystalline rose," he murmured to the air. And as he looked at the ornate weathervane sitting majestically upon the roof of the stone house, its design mimicking the petals of a rose, he knew without a doubt where Mikkos Cassadine was guiding his eldest daughter. Back to the past, to the place where one perfect crystalline rose was shattered as death and Helena Cassadine took the life of the one for whom it was created. He was guiding her back home…to Rosewood. * * * "I was wondering where I ran you off to…" Alexis murmured as he tried to slip beneath the comforter unnoticed. He wasn't certain whether to tell her about his discovery now or later and finally decided she needed at least a few more hours of peace. "Just off doing some… research," he said haltingly as he wrapped his arms around her. "Research? At this hour? Trying to find the cure for DID?" she snickered as she wriggled back and settled into his body. "That's not amusing, Alexis. And… hey!... you better stop that squirming or reap the consequences…" he groaned as he felt the heat rising in his body. She quickly flipped over, blindsiding him as she now lay on top of him. She leaned down and whispered into his ear, "I like reaping." And with that she showed him exactly what consequences truly were. * * * "I found something last night," he said, placing a cup of coffee before her as she fed Kristina oatmeal. "You muttered something about research. I guess it had to be important to keep you from my bed," she laughed and winked at him. "My bed," he growled as he leaned over and kissed her. Kristina, watching them curiously, reached out with oatmeal-encrusted fingers and rubbed his face, depositing tiny kernels into the graying beard. Cameron laughed and kissed her head as he tried to loosen the remnants of her breakfast from his face. "She adores you," Alexis laughed as she reached out and massaged them from his beard. The feel of her hands on his face was electric, like a bolt of lightning zigzagging through every nerve ending in his body. They wouldn't be getting far today if she continued her ministrations so he grasped her hand, kissed it and moved to the other side of the table. Alexis looked perplexed. "Is it something I said?" He laughed as he sipped his coffee, wishing it was iced to quench the flames licking his body. "No. I just know that Kristina is too young to learn about the things that could happen right here on the table if you continued." She turned red. "Oh… yeah. She will never learn about those things if her Mother has anything to say about it." "Well, best of luck on that one. I started to tell you that I found something last night concerning the snowglobe." Her hand stilled midway between the bowl and Kristina's hungry mouth. 'Is that where you were for so long?" He nodded. "Yes. I thought I saw something when I put it back on the mantel, the way the light touched it. So I studied it and found two things." Her eyes were wide with excitement - and fear. "Two?" He pursed his lips. "First, the woman and the child were wearing necklaces." She swallowed convulsively. "Necklaces? Were they like…" He nodded. "Yes, diamonds on a gold chain, both exactly alike." She breathed. "That means there is more than one necklace, the one Helena left behind could have been mine not Mama's. But how could she have it? Unless that was what she found in the Paris safe?" He didn't want to broach this but he knew he must. "Or…somewhere else." She stared at him, confused. "Where else?" He continued, "That brings me to the second thing. Slivers of crystal embedded in the snow. When you hold the globe at a certain angle in the light and diffuse it, the shadow from the weathervane forms the outline of an object…a…" She knew it before he could draw breath to speak the word, the tug from the past the moment she opened the redwood case and saw the little family in front of the stone house a sign. "One perfect crystalline rose." She looked at him for confirmation and her heart jumped when he slowly nodded. Alexis was quiet as she finished feeding Kristina. She took her to her room, changed and dressed her and brought her out to her playpen. Cameron was sitting on the couch trying to read and looked up as she settled Kristina and walked over to the telephone at the desk. She punched the speed dial and waited. "Mrs. Lansbury? I need to speak to you immediately. No, Kristina is fine. I'll be at Wyndemere within the hour." She replaced the phone in the cradle and turned back to Cameron. "I need to discuss this with Mrs. Lansbury. Would you mind taking care of Kristina until I return? I'd take her along but she seems warm and I don't want her to catch cold." He turned curious eyes to her. "Of course I'll take care of her. But why are you going to see Mrs. Lansbury? I thought you'd be contacting Nikolas or your brother." She worried her lower lip. She wanted to protect Mrs. Lansbury but she trusted Cameron more than anyone in her life and he needed to know. "You never asked after Halloween night but I'm certain you wondered why I trust Mrs. Lansbury so very much, especially with Kristina," she said as she sat down next to him on the couch. He shrugged. "As long as you trusted her with Kristina and seemed comfortable with her I saw no reason to ask. I assumed some day you would tell me why… when you were ready." She looked into his warm brown eyes and thought about how much they had evolved together. He still asked her the tough questions and nagged her about certain things but the level of trust between them had grown over the course of the year and they both became quite adept at reading the other. A frightening thing for her at first, the sense of naked vulnerability when you open who you are to someone but it seemed right with Cameron. He had annoyed and frustrated her on occasion but never betrayed her and she knew in her heart that he never would. Because he loved her and for the first time in her life, love did not frighten her or make her hyperventilate or force her to run from what she wanted in life. This love made her want to run to him and make every dream she ever had a reality, all those dreams that sustained the will of a young girl sitting alone in her room in a house of darkness mourning the death of something she could not comprehend. She pulled his hand into her lap and squeezed it. "I only found out prior to Halloween but Mrs. Lansbury was a confidante of my father and mother." His brow furrow. "Confidante? She knew everything… all about your parents, you and your sister?" She nodded. "Yes, everything. I still don't understand their connection but my parents trusted her and my father charged her with looking after my welfare when I was brought to Greece a poor relation." He bristled. "I still don't understand why your father allowed you to be brought up under those painful circumstances…" She touched his cheek. "I think after all I have told you about Helena you do understand it, after Paris and what we found there," she whispered, "after what you found there." He looked at her sharply. "What I found there?" She raised her eyebrow. "A tiny pink baby bootie with a satin rosebud? The bootie I found in your very masculine underwear drawer? I assume you found it in Paris…" He cleared his throat. "I didn't want more stress on you. You'd already found your Mother's handkerchief and I decided…" "To protect me? I appreciate the thought and the love but I've faced down much worse in my life. I recognized it when I picked it up… it belonged to my sister Kristina. So you see, whether it was just the handkerchief or both, I knew exactly what Helena intends… to eventually kill me and my daughter. So you really do comprehend the incomprehensible even if you won't admit it to yourself. My father abandoned me and agreed to Helena's emotional blackmail so she would not see fit to kill me as she did my mother. But the joke on Helena is he never truly walked away from me, he found other ways to protect me." He drifted his fingers through her hair and nodded. "Mrs. Lansbury." "The faithful housekeeper, chatelaine of all that is Cassadine, a woman practiced at knowing exactly what to do or say to deflect Helena's machinations and questions. She knew both my parents and since my father is pointing me back to where their dream ended, I need to take her into my confidence. We are going back to the beginning of the end." "We?" he asked. She looked into his eyes, her tears glistening like diamonds in her eyes. "I need you. I can't go back…there… to that house… alone, Cameron." "You'll never be alone, Alexis, ever again." He wrapped his arms around her slight body and tried to infuse her with all of his strength and the love he felt for her in that moment. They would weather what comes together … or die trying.
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