========================================================================== SECRETS REVEALED Kathy Wolenczak a.k.a. Kathleen Brown ========================================================================== Timeline: SeaQuest 2032 Author's E-Mail: kwolenczak@hotmail.com ========================================================================== "Secrets Revealed" By Kathleen Brown Teaser. Hudson's quarters. He's asleep in his bed, not restless at all. His sleep is deep until a dream comes upon him. Hudson's large communal room in the Academy. Night. Hudson (at age twenty or twenty-one, looking not unlike Tony in body and hairstyle) slips out of his bunk and walks to the communal mens room to look for his missing bunkmate. The extremely thin young man, with his red hair and distinctly Irish appearance, sits against a wall, crying softly. Hudson speaks quietly. YOUNG HUDSON (concerned) Peter? Pete, are you okay? The young man looks up, he is far too thin to be anything but seriously ill. The young man looks up, he's been crying, that much is obvious. PETER (not really meaning it) Go away, Oliver. YOUNG HUDSON (still concerned) What's wrong? PETER (furious) Leave me alone!! Hudson draws away, slightly frightened. Peter realizes what he's done and looks very, very sorry. PETER (softly, sadly) I just need a little time, Oliver, I'm okay. Hudson nods softly, not quite believing. Outdoors, the young naval cadets are in physical training. Peter stays close to his friend for support. Suddenly, with a soft moan, he falls hard. Hudson kneels beside him, absolutely terrified. Their training officer runs over. TRAINING OFFICER (half-angry) What happened?!! YOUNG HUDSON (panicked) I don't know, he just fell over, what's happening?! The officer feels for Peter's pulse and lays his head against the fallen man's chest. He sits up as two cadets run for help. YOUNG HUDSON (frantic with fear) Is he going to be okay?!! TRAINING OFFICER (sympathetically) I'm afraid not. I'm sorry, ensign. YOUNG HUDSON (disbelieving) NO!! That's not fair! Help him! Hudson leans over the young man to start CPR. After the first quick round of chest compressions, he lays his head on his chest to listen. The sound of nothing is too great to bear. He is ready to crack. The officer gently brings Hudson to sit up. TRAINING OFFICER Let him go with honor, ensign. Let him go. Hudson is absolutely horrified by what's going on. He starts crying with everything he has. Hudson, as we know him today, wakes in his quarters, shaking in fear, the wet tears still fresh on his cheeks. He lays back, sighing shakily, softly whispering Lucas' name. End Teaser. Galley, Night. Commander Ford, Tony Piccolo, Lonnie Henderson, and Tim O'Neill are sitting together at a table drinking coffee, lost in thought. Tony pushes his food around, depressed and lost in his own mind. TONY (spaced out) I miss him. HENDERSON We all do, Tony. FORD (obviously) It's just not the same without Lucas. At the mention of his friend's name, Dagwood looks up from his methodical mopping, lonely. He walks over to their table. DAGWOOD Where's Lucas? Ford looks up, afraid he's gonna have to be the one to break it to him. FORD (gently) Lucas is going to be gone for a while. DAGWOOD Why? HENDERSON (you can tell from her voice she's angry) He's sick, Dagwood. O'NEILL Lucas hasn't eaten anything for three months. DAGWOOD Why? TONY Because he thinks he's fat. DAGWOOD (disbelieving) _Lucas_? Ford nods. DAGWOOD (flatly) But he's not. HENDERSON _We_ know that, Dagwood, but Lucas doesn't. DAGWOOD I don't understand. O'NEILL (to Ford, Tony, and Henderson) Wait a second, guys. (turning to Dagwood) Dagwood, Lucas is lonely, lonelier than you or I or anyone could imagine. He thought that by not eating and making himself sick, we would notice him. DAGWOOD How could he be lonely? You are his friends. HENDERSON (softly, almost to herself) In name only. Ford, Tony, and O'Neill look at her in shock, appalled that she could say such a thing. She looks angrily at them. HENDERSON (getting furious) C'mon, guys, be serious, we were just about the crappiest friends anybody could have. When he pulled away, we just let him go. We didn't let him know that we missed him, we didn't try to talk to him, we didn't notice the guy lost 40 pounds! He did this to get closer to us and we _ignored_ him! He was such an IDIOT! TONY (disgusted) I'm not going to listen to this. Tony leaves. Ford stands, he'll take no more of this. FORD (defending Lucas) How _dare_ you say that about him?!! Do you realize how _terrified_ he must have been _so_ many times?! He tried every way he know how to get us to notice him, could an idiot come _up_ with an idea like this?!! Whatever Lucas may be he is _not_ and idiot and if you _ever_ say that again, I'll have you off this boat! HENDERSON (horrified) Jonathan... FORD (pulling rank) _No_, Lieutentant. She stares at him. Finally she leaves, incredibly angry. Dagwood wants to stop all this anger. DAGWOOD Why is Lucas gone? Ford sighs and looks at how lonely Dagwood is without Lucas. For a brief moment he wonders if Lucas is feeling the same way until he realizes that Lucas _always_ feels that way. Ford sits and motions for Dagwood to do the same. Dagwood sits awkwardly. FORD Lucas needs to get help, Dagwood, he's too sick for us to help him. DAGWOOD (thinking, quietly) Lucas makes himself sick. FORD Yes. (hey wait, how does Dag know about that?) You know about it? DAGWOOD Lucas was in the bathroom. He made his finger go down his throat. He got sick. He stood up and saw me and said my name and fell asleep. His lips...were bleeding. O'NEILL (realizing) Lucas has an ulcer, Jon. FORD (softly) I know. (louder, to make himself heard) Dagwood, what did you do when Lucas fell asleep? DAGWOOD I took him to my room and let him sleep. He was very tired. O'NEILL (thinking) How long did he sleep, Dagwood? DAGWOOD (holding up two fingers) Two days. Ford is lost in thought. DAGWOOD Can I go now? FORD (absently) Yeah, sure, Dagwood. Dagwood leaves. Ford and O'Neill stay there, quiet. O'Neill picks at his Styrofoam cup. FORD (quietly) Did you ever know an anorexic, Tim? O'NEILL (sighing) Not practicing, but I had a cousin... Ford nods. FORD My sister was bulimic. Thing is, she never lost any weight, it was all in her head. O'NEILL Was she okay? FORD (flatly, not wanting to volunteer any information) I don't know, last time I saw her she still hadn't gotten help. She still ate normally, but every couple of days...she would do terrible things to herself. I can't imagine Lucas enduring that kind of pain. Both men are greatly disturbed by all this. Ford took it easy, after Lucas' collapse on the bridge it was obvious to him, but in the galley, here, was too terrifying. Those terrible things Lucas did to his body, the ways he tortured himself. His fallen moans of pain still echo in Ford's head in constant nightmares. The _pain_ Lucas endured for love. He can call it whatever he wants, acceptance, attention, being noticed, friendship, whatever, but what it all really boils down to is Lucas just wants somebody to love. Not necessarily love for himself, but just somebody for him to love. Someone to hold and comfort and look at and spend time with and _know_, no matter what, he will have given the happiness no one will give him. Love is incredibly important to everyone, especially those who are without it. Christine's home. Lucas and Paul's room. Lucas lays writhing in his bed, sweating as if dealing with hard labor, sobbing in pain and fear and loneliness as violent cramps in his stomach twist his body in agony. He's trying to keep quiet, so as not to wake Paul. Zoe, the shy dagger girl, comes in and walks over to his bed. She gently lays her hand on his shoulder. He looks up at her, terrified and practically begging for help. She sits beside him (as he is laying on his side) and leans over, her face close to his, lightly stroking back his sweat-soaked hair. She quiets him and comforts him as best she can. Lucas gently slips his fingers into the curve of her right hand. She looks at him and completely understands. She takes his hand with great love and continues to stroke his sweaty hair. His pain is no better, but the sobbing subsides as the fear and loneliness gradually melts away. Her caring makes him feel the fleeting, foreign sensation of being a unique and perfect human being like any other, not above or below anyone, just...human. Tony's quarters. He's asleep in bed, resltess, dreaming. In Tony's dream, Lucas is sobbing horribly inside his quarters, miserable and alone. He vomits into a toilet in the communal mens head, splashing his blood onto the porcelain. In this awful, guilty dream, Tony feels the sensations Lucas does. The tangible heavy feeling of the loneliness weighing his heart down. The ache in his belly, the sore throats, the unshakable cold. The sore bruises made by where Lucas' bones poke out from beneath his thin skin. The incredible _sensitivity_ in Lucas' heart, how each comment (which was never made to hurt him) is another stab at his self-worth, another brick upon Lucas' heavy load. Lucas' echoey sobbing wakes Tony from his guilty dream, leaving him to wonder how a single comment in jest could cause all this irreversible damage. Morning. Captain Hudson is walking down a hallway toward the bridge, looking as if he could have used a few more hours of sleep. Commander Ford walks up, something important obviously on his mind. FORD (timidly) Captain? Hudson stops and abruptly turns. HUDSON (curious) What is it, Commander? FORD Captain, have you notified Lucas' parents to his whereabouts? HUDSON (looking puzzled, and by the way, what business of it is yours?) No. FORD I think they should be told, Captain. HUDSON I don't think Ensign Wolenczak even notified them of his return to the land of the living. You think I'm going to call his father and announce that not only is his only child alive, but he can't talk to him for the next 3 months AND he's anorexic/bulimic? I don't think so, Commander. FORD (forcefully) Captain, they _need_ to be told, it's the Navy's duty to notify the legal guardian if an officer is ill or unable to contact the family to their location. Hudson has nothing to say. Ford is giving him no choice. FORD (uncomfortable) I think Captain Bridger should be notified also, Sir. HUDSON (admitting) Nathan already knows. FORD (shocked) You told Nathan Bridger but not Lucas' own _father_?! HUDSON It was the best decision under the circumstances, now don't you have some work you should be doing? FORD (through clenched teeth) Yes, Sir. Ford leaves, highly pissed-off. Hudson sighs softly, knowing Ford is right, knowing he must tell Lucas' father. Christine's, 3 days later. Lucas and Paul have turned to each other for help and comfort and friendship in every way, Lucas has been gone a month now, he's beginning to understand this monster inside him, and even learned how to control it some. Lucas and Paul are in the kitchen, helping to cook their lunch. When getting better, sometimes it helps to see what goes into your meals, regulate it, know it's not going to kill you to take one bite. Lucas is sitting on a stool by the counter, playing cards with Paul while their soup coagulates from thin broth and chunky condensed soup from a can into something semi-edible. Leigh comes in, smiling, looking almost completely healthy, given what she's been through. She leaves in a few days and is absolutely ecstatic. She is here following a controlling relationship with a man who insisted she be thin for him. This relationship went on three years and now she loves to flirt with Lucas. LEIGH (sarcastically) Hey sexy, what ja cookin? LUCAS (shyly, he feels uncomfortable when she treats him this way) Soup. LEIGH What kind? LUCAS Cheese and broccoli. LEIGH (making a disgusted face) Ugh! (hanging on Paul, who doesn't go for that at _all_) Ace, king, jack, eight, ten of clubs. He turns to her and pushes her away, he's furious. PAUL I hate you!! Christine comes in the front door and immediately sees the conflict. CHRISTINE (exercising her authority over them) Paul, cool it, Leigh, why do you always provoke him? LEIGH (cocky) Because I know I can. Christine gives her a warning look. She leaves outside. Christine comes in. PAUL I hate her. CHRISTINE (comforting him, gently touching his back) Only a few more days, beautiful, then she'll be gone and you'll never have to deal with her again. He nods softly. She strokes his hair. CHRISTINE How are you two holding up? LUCAS (still quiet) Okay. CHRISTINE Really? You look sad. LUCAS (shyly) A little lonely, maybe. CHRISTINE (smiling) Maybe this'll cheer you up. She hands him an envelope and gives Paul one. Paul's face absolutely lights up in joy. Lucas quietly opens up his letter. He looks ready to laugh and cry at the same time. CHRISTINE Who's it from, Lucas? LUCAS (mesmerized) Captain Bridger. CHRISTINE Who's that? LUCAS (wistfully) The father I never had. He unfolds the letter and begins to read it. BRIDGER (V.O.) Dear Lucas. When I heard the news...to tell you the truth, the news that you were so sick didn't really shock me (but the nature of your illness did). I knew you weren't cut out for the Navy. I knew that schedules and orders and uniforms and doing your duty isn't your forte, it's not who you are inside. You are the most free-spirited, kind-hearted, naturally happy person I know. The thought that you caused yourself so much agony because you were in so much pain _inside_, truly broke my heart. I wish to God I had been there for you when you needed me, Lucas. I called Christine, the woman who runs the center you're at, and she said you're not allowed to use the vid there. I can understand that perfectly. I just wish I could talk to you, see how you're doing, maybe see if there's anything you need. I am _so_ sorry, Lucas. I blame myself for the pain that you're in, as well as the Navy. As much as I want to blame you for this, I know I can't. Your disease is not your fault, you didn't ask to be this way. I spoke to Commander Ford and Tim and Piccolo and Miguel, and they all say you did this because you were lonely. That news killed me. I love you dearly, Lucas, you're like a son to me, you know that, and, I can't stress this enough, my greatest fear in all of life is you being as unhappy as I know you are right now. I only want the best for you and misery is the one thing I know you deserve the very least. After all you've been through, what with the way your parents treated you and the things on _seaQuest_ I know broke your heart time and time again, you deserve to feel only love, safety, comfort, and warmth. I know how much you crave these simple God-given gifts, Lucas, and there isn't a thing on this earth I wouldn't trade for a guarantee of you getting them. No one deserves them more than you. I wish you knew how important you are to me, Lucas, I foolishly think that would take away all your pain and fear and sickness. Fade to, Lucas reading the final page, his eyes red and raw from crying for three full pages. BRIDGER (V.O.) I tried to think of something to give you that would remind you of me, but then I realized, Lucas, you need help from a source far greater than myself. If there was ever a time you needed this, now is it. You need God to help you through your pain, Lucas, only He can give you what you need. Nathan Hale Bridger. Lucas sighs softly. He reaches into the envelope with his slender fingers, and when they are removed, in the curve of his right pointer finger, dangles a thin silver chain, from which hangs a small silver Star of David. Lucas smiles slightly. He thinks back. Summer of 2019. Bright, sunny, Florida. Late afternoon, becoming twilight. Large apartment complex. Lucas' apartment. It's neat, but appropriately messy for any seventeen year-old guy. Lucas is sitting outside on a balcony, weeding through his father's programming on the original _seaQuest_'s mainframe on a laptop. In the background, in dry-dock, the bare bones of the _seaQuest II_ are visible. Lucas is dressed for the hot weather, paperwork and blueprints and a Walkman lying strewn across his table. As he types he holds a pencil between his teeth so he may sketch plans onto a large set of blueprints. His door opens and he looks up to see a casual Captain Bridger standing around, looking for him. LUCAS (calling) Captain! Bridger turns, smiling. He walks out onto the balcony, eyeing Lucas' paperwork. BRIDGER How's it coming? LUCAS (softly, frustrated) Slowly. BRIDGER We need those plans by the third, Lucas. LUCAS (furious all of a sudden) I'm doing the best I can, Captain, you can't reprogram the entire mainframe of a sub like the _seaQuest_ in a matter of weeks, it took my Dad _years_ to design it in the first place!!! Bridger is taken aback by Lucas' outburst. Lucas slams the pencil from his mouth onto the table and sits back, wiping his hands across his face. He looks up at Captain Bridger, appearing quite exhausted. LUCAS (weakly) I'm sorry. I've been going through a lot lately. I haven't been sleeping well, and what with my father and the _seaQuest_, and building a _new_ one and all...I'm sorry. Bridger sits across the table from Lucas. BRIDGER (gently) What's going on, Lucas? LUCAS (indicating his laptop) I _still_ have to finish what my father never did. BRIDGER Your father did a wonderful job on those computers and you know it, Lucas. Lucas looks sarcastically at Bridger, trying to hide his inner hurt. LUCAS (with angst) You'd be surprised. BRIDGER What would suprise me? LUCAS (grinning) This thing looks like it was thrown together by a drunken terrorist out to screw the _entire_ UEO. BRIDGER It's not the programming you're mad at, it's your father. LUCAS (letting his guard down) Why shouldn't I be mad at him? The guy's a jerk. BRIDGER (nodding, catching Lucas off guard by agreeing) Yeah, he is. You don't deserve to be treated this way, no one does, but there's nothing you can do to change the past. All you can do is try to be _better_ than him. LUCAS (talking about the computer) But he's so damn _good_. BRIDGER But _you_ are better. Lucas softens, he gets a little shy. LUCAS (needing the reassurance) You really think so? BRIDGER Without a doubt. (beat, softly, indicating the computer, but Lucas isn't looking) Now what's giving you trouble? Lucas sighs and thinks about the computer. He leans back and his hand travels up to his throat. He gently fingers a silver chain around his neck. Lucas stares off, lost in his own mind. LUCAS I miss him. Bridger goes to interrupt and say that's not what he meant, but realizes Lucas wouldn't bring up the subject unless he wanted to, so he leaves him to speak. LUCAS (better, and very wistful) I can't remember the last time he spent more than three hours with me out of his own free will. Not _only_ did he never come when I needed him, but when he _did_ come to me, and something was happening and I couldn't spend time with him, he yelled at me and said it was my fault he never spent any time with me. The only time he cared was when it was to his own benefit. BRIDGER Lucas, I don't think that's true. LUCAS (nodding) Oh, it is. (beat, thinking) Well...No, that was for him, too. BRIDGER What're you talking about? Lucas sighs and looks at Bridger. LUCAS (shyly) Even my belief in God was made out of my father's ego. BRIDGER What do you mean? LUCAS (bitterly) When I was born, it wasn't enough for me to have my father's last name, I had to carry on the family legacy, too. BRIDGER There's a Wolenczak family legacy? LUCAS Oh, yeah. A bunch. Every male Wolenczak's middle name is Elijah. BRIDGER Why? LUCAS (thoughtfully) My...great-grandfather was named Elijah. He's as far back as anybody can get when it comes to my family. BRIDGER Where did you come from originally? LUCAS (looking down at his computer) Omaha. BRIDGER (grinning) Lucas... LUCAS (sighs) Poland. BRIDGER Oh. Bridger looks closely at Lucas. He's gently fingering the silver chain around his neck. Lucas is quiet, staring out at the _seaQuest II_, thinking. BRIDGER Lucas. (Lucas looks over) What's that? (indicates Lucas' necklace) Lucas looks down at the silver chain intwined with his fingers and sighs softly. He looks out over the ocean and lets the necklace go. It's the same small, silver Star of David. Bridger reacts in mild shock. BRIDGER I didn't know you were Jewish. Lucas nods softly, still looking away. LUCAS I am. My father didn't even care about _that_. And it was his idea in the first place, my mom wanted me to be Catholic like her. BRIDGER You can't be mad because he wanted you to believe in _God_, Lucas. LUCAS (glances at Bridger, gives him a dirty look, then looks away) That's not why I'm mad. BRIDGER (gently) Why are you mad, Lucas? LUCAS Cause after all that he still didn't care. BRIDGER What do you mean? LUCAS (painfully, at times near tears, at times furious) After all the fights with my mom, the rabbis and the...._everything_, he still didn't care! Two months before I turned thirteen I walked to Temple and talked to my Rabbi and _he_, not my Dad, was the one who talked me through what I had to do for my Bar Mitzvah. Ten months before my Dad should've taken care of it but I had to do it, _by myself_ at the wrong age at the wrong time...I had to learn an incredible amound of the Hebrew language in _two months_ , learn _everything_, without my mom caring and without a single word of encouragement from my father! Lucas takes the necklace off and gives it to Bridger. LUCAS (mournfully) I don't even know why I kept with it so long. BRIDGER (to comfort him, doing the opposite) Because it's what you _believe_, Lucas. Lucas looks closely at Bridger. In the twilight, tears are shining in Lucas' bright eyes. LUCAS Since when has God been around for me? If God existed, my Dad would be here, and he woulda been here every other time that I cried for him. Lucas gets up and leaves into the apartment, Bridger knows enough about Lucas to realize this is a time for him to be alone. Bridger slips the necklace into his pocket and sighs softly. He knows a time will come when Lucas will need this again. 2033. Lucas is standing in the kitchen of Christine's house, holding the star in his flat palm. Christine comes up behind and looks over Lucas' shoulder at the item, then reaches over and takes it from him. Lucas gasps softly and grabs for it, but she has it already, leaving him with nothing. CHRISTINE (enamored of it) Oh, Lucas, it's beautiful. He's a little shy. PAUL (somewhat shocked) I didn't know you were Jewish. LUCAS (with venom) You haven't told me what _you_ are. PAUL (you wanna make somethin' of it?) Presbyterian. Lucas looks at him and sighs. He looks at Christine. LUCAS (exhausted) Can I go out? CHRISTINE You look upset. You should be happy, Lucas. LUCAS (shaking his head softly) I just need to think. PAUL (continuing with the subject on his mind) Did you have your...whatsit? Bar Mitzvah? Lucas nearly rolls his eyes at his friend. LUCAS I don't wanna talk aobut it. He walks out the back door, already lost in thought. Lucas' father's office building. Hudson walks down a vile peach hallway filled with fake plants in pots and bad Danish modular furniture. He walks to a large desk, above which gold raised letters boldly announce the name, Wolenczak Industries. A dagger secretary types on a computer, preoccupied with a vid to her fiance, planning their wedding. She glances up at Hudson, whispers into her headset, and giggles softly, hanging up. She looks up at Hudson. SECRETARY (bored with him) Can I help you? HUDSON I need to speak with Doctor Wolenczak. SECRETARY (sarcastically) A lot of people need to speak with Doctor Wolenczak. HUDSON It's about his _son_. SECRETARY Doctor Wolenczak's son is dead. HUDSON No, he's not. (beat) Six months ago he enlisted in the Navy and I _need_ to speak with Doctor Wolenczak. SECRETARY He's in a meeting. Hudson leaves into the doorway just to the left of the desk. The secretary calls up security. Hudson walks in to find Doctor Wolenczak older, his hair graying, his eyes very sad, looking as if he's been crying. Hudson stands before him, respectful of the older man. DOCTOR WOLENCZAK (flatly) Captain. My son. HUDSON He's alive. (beat) But very sick. DOCTOR WOLENCZAK (softly, sadly, with incredible sorrow and remorse) My son died in my heart ten years ago. We had his funeral and got rid of all his things. He was my only child and I _know_ I acted terribly towards him, but I _never_ thought I had hurt him like this. It's _my_ fault he's so sick. He still loved me with his whole heart, he was so _good_. His mother...she said horrible things to him but he didn't care, he still came to us when he was scared or sick, he never complained, he trusted that what we were doing truly _was_ what was best for him. He insisted on loving us as much as a single person could, but we never showed him how much we cared. Lucas has always been that way. (under his breath almost) He expects too much from people. HUDSON (matter-of-factly) He only expects what he deserves. DOCTOR WOLENCZAK (softly) That's what he said. Hudson's confused all of a sudden. Doctor Wolenczak sees Hudson's reaction and holds up a letter hand-written from Lucas. DOCTOR WOLENCZAK (slowly getting emotional) He told me how lonely he was, how much he wanted someone to _care_. His biggest problem in life is getting people to see the person inside, not the person he chooses to show everyone. I wonder why he can't just be himself. HUDSON He's terrified. He's afraid of getting hurt for the umpteenth time. DOCTOR WOLENCZAK (not thinking about what Hudson's saying, knowing he's right) He really is an eloquent writer. Almost made me feel sorry for him. HUDSON Why wouldn't you feel sorry for him? DOCTOR WOLENCZAK All he's doing this for is people's pity. Sometimes I think everything he does is just to spite me. HUDSON (getting quite upset with him) Are you kidding me?!! He is in more pain than anyone could _imagine_, he's practically killing himself in his desperation for attention, his only desire is for someone to _care_ for him, that young man is _miserable_. Lucas' room at Christine's. He's laughing ecstatically, overjoyed. He gradually winds down as Zoe wipes tears of laughter from her eye. ZOE You are so _funny_. He doesn't accept her praise easily, he's too shy. He grows serious, leaning back against the pillows of his bed. LUCAS (seriously) Why are you here? She looks at him, surprised. He wants an answer. She sighs and lays beside him, her body close to his. He runs his fingers through her thick black hair, gently. ZOE (sighing, getting comfortable) Bulimia's only one of my symptoms, Lucas. LUCAS What's the disease? ZOE (lightly) A personality disorder. (he's slightly confused) A mental illness. LUCAS You don't seem mentally ill. ZOE (smiling) You're so sweet, thank you, but it's hard to be mentally ill when they have you on lithium. LUCAS Like for bipolars? ZOE That'd be the one, cutie. (he's a tad bit shocked) As you'll come to see, Lucas, most of us were abused, all of us want to be perfect. A good deal of us have some form of underlying mental problems. I was abused, emotionally and verbally. Two different things, just so you know. I was popular, sexy, and everyone's favorite girlfriend. I was also miserable, and I hated everything I stood for. That's how I became mentally ill, then I got bulimic as yet another way to punish myself for being me. And I ran track, that may or may not have something to do with it. LUCAS (softly) My problems don't seem bad at all, compared to yours. ZOE No, Lucas, I've heard your story and everybody else's and, trust me, you're the same as us. And it's okay, you're destined to be this way, it wasn't your choice. Don't deny it, fight back against it. Lucas gazes into her liquid black eyes with his soft blue ones, finally gaining understanding for one of the first times in his life. LUCAS I think I love you. ZOE Then you're the first person ever to love me for me. I know this skinny body isn't the most attractive package in the world. LUCAS (suddenly furious) Damn it! I'm not like everyone else, I don't _care_ how you look, I just want someone who loves me, I don't care what you look like as long as you let me _love_ you, that's all that matters!!!! Zoe gently gathers him into her arms, feeling his slender warm body next to hers. ZOE Well, stop looking, gorgeous. Nondescript beach town. Nathan Bridger is walking down an empty but joyous little road, looking through a week's worth of mail. He smiles at an envelope hand addressed by Lucas. _seaQuest_. J.J. Fredricks is standing, reading a letter out loud to Tim, Tony, Lonnie, and Ford. FREDERICKS (reading) The truth is, I'm still not cured, but I _am_ getting better. Please tell Tony I forgive him, a letter will be forthcoming as soon as I can figure out a way to tell him what I need to say. To everybody else, Hi. Lucas. J.J. looks up, watching for their reactions. Lonnie's bitter. HENDERSON Why was the letter addressed to _you_? FREDERICKS He had a message to me besides this letter, and perhaps he thought maybe he could trust me. O'NEILL (not angry or accusing at all, just confused) Why would he think he couldn't trust _us_? FREDERICKS (acting slightly high-and-mighty) Because three months ago I reached out to him. I asked him what was wrong and stayed with him for three hours while he cried, despite what _I_ needed to do. Sure, I was tired, I was hungry, I had a bad day, but rather than do something for _myself_, I gave up something for him. I stayed with him when he needed me, I didn't insist on knowing why he was crying or why he looked like he'd been in a Macronesian jail for weeks, I simply offered all I had to him, without question. Since that day he has come to me _every single night_. (softly, reminiscing) The sweet creature he was, every night until he didn't have the strength he would come to my room and sit and listen while I talked about my day, never said a word, never judged me, never once told me I was wrong. Best listener I ever had. Some days he'd cry, some days he'd stay for hours and fall asleep on my bed with me as company, some days he'd spend all of three minutes writing me a note. HENDERSON What'd they say? FREDERICKS (calmly) That's between me and Lucas and no one else. FORD (believing) So he never said _anything_? FREDERICKS He didn't have to. I knew what he wanted, I could tell what he was thinking through his eyes and body language. HENDERSON (accusing J.J.) And you never suspected that he was anorexic or even sick in the slightest? FREDERICKS He never volunteered that information, so I never assumed it. I simply knew it was something he didn't care to talk to me about. So I never asked. I respected him, and he knew it. Night. Christine's. Lucas and Paul's room. It's night, a full moon, it's beautiful out. Paul is asleep. Lucas is awake, alone, sitting by their open window, staring out and intermittently writing on a sheet of paper held up by a hardcover book. He sighs softly and stares out onto the grassy yard, a dog barks down the street. _This_ is happiness. Tony's quarters on _seaQuest_. He slips on his rose-colored glasses and opens up an envelope. He holds it in his hands, feels the weight of the paper, and sits down on his bed. LUCAS (V.O.) (reading) Tony, I am _so_ sorry. I blamed you because I had no one else to blame and I didn't want to blame myself. Your single jesting comment did NOT send me spiraling into the pit of anorexia and bulimia, it simply made me _think_. It was right after we got back when you said that, I had already lost 10 pounds from those five days/ten years, and I was fit and happy with how I was feeling. I was also terribly afraid and confused at the time. I had just joined up (that night) and Hudson was our captain and Bridger was gone. We thought Wendy and Miguel were dead, my life had fallen apart. So I decided to rebuild. I figured I felt physically good because of my weight loss, because I didn't know it was shock at the time. So I decided, Why not _keep_ feeling better by not eating? So I didn't. When I got hungry, I woudn't give in, because I had to be strong, I was an officer and I couldn't give in to _anything_, not even my emotions or my hunger. I soon realized, however, that I was weak (In _my_ mind, at least.). I ate. And then I punished myself for being weak and stupid and a disgrace to the uniform which _made_ me somebody. Bulimia was second nature to me, like there was never any question _whatsoever_. Contrary to popular belief, Tony, I hated it. I _hate_ being out of control more than anything. Even though I drank in the power I had over my body with a passion unlike anything I have _ever_ felt before, I hated everything about it. When I binged, it's like my mind shut off, and when I woke up, I saw that I had eaten a shift's dessert rations or some other unbelievably huge amount of food. Then I _had_ to purge. I had no choice in the matter. Either I did it voluntarily or my body did it for me, and if I did it for the power, why not finish it? Purging...sucks. Vomiting 6 or 7 times a day does a hell of a lot of damage to your body, your throat hurts, your fingers hurt and get scraped and bleed and _smell_. You get really great abs, though I wouldn't recommend it over sit-ups. Taking laxatives isn't the most fun in the world, as you could probably guess. Spending entire nights in the bathroom isn't very restful, _is_ quite painful, and, in addition to losing all that sleep, _extremely_ tiring. After two months of hell I wanted nothing more than to stop and be okay and tell everyone and get the help I so desperately wanted and needed. But I couldn't. I had no friends to turn to, no one would believe me, I hadn't lost much weight, I was still well over a hundred. I was moody, depressed, in pain, and terribly afraid, I had no one to help me. So, in desperation and fear (noticing a pattern here, Tony?), I retreated within myself for comfort, but one is the loneliest number (like the song goes.) and I became my own worst enemy. When I was alone I thought up ways to hurt myself, and that terrified me, so I worked my way into social situations, but I was so heavily guarded against fat comments (that were never really there) that I couldn't even realize _no one_ was trying to hurt me. I _wanted_ to cry out for help, I _wanted_ to be pulled out of my private hell, I _wanted_ to be noticed and loved and comforted and made well again. I wanted to be _safe). Suicide was constantly on my mind. Then, one night in the galley, as I stood torn between a kitchen knife and an as-yet-unopened box of cookies, J.J. walked in. She came over to me and took the knife out of my hand (However, to this day, I don't know how it got there, the last thing I remembered was just looking at it from across the room.) and held me for God-only-knows how long as I just...cried. I was sick with fever and terrified of what would happen if Wendy found out, and J.J. led me to my room and laid me down in my bed and stayed and held me and put cool washcloths on my forehead and held me during my nightmares. J.J. was there to save me, I was absolutely convinced that she was the only one who cared. Some days here I still think that. Every night for as long as I could I went to her room and stayed for company. I stayed longer depending on how good I'd been that day, shorter if I was feeling bad. If I had managed to keep down a tiny bite of cracker, I'd reward myself with a good hearty cry. If I had been bad with the laxatives and the throwing up, I punished myself with only a few minutes, I'd hold in my tears to cry them in solitude, vowing to do better tomorrow. At night, if I had been bad, or if I was feeling tempted to be, I'd go into her room at night, when she was asleep, and sit beside her bed and hold her hand around mine and just stay there until I was feeling well enough to leave without being bad. I was so scared, my whole life revolved around her kindness. I would have kept hurting myself if she was there or not, but her being there gave me courage and strength and hope that maybe _someone_ loved me enough to care whether I lived or died. Now that I read back upon this letter, I see I didn't accomplish what I had set out to do, which was keep it short and to the point and absolve you of any guilt you may feel, but instead I've given you the guided tour of my illness and terrified psyche. Either way, I think you get my point. Thanks, Tony. My final request is you show this to J.J.. J.J. looks up from the crumpled letter, moved my Lucas' writing, but that's all. Tony's standing a ways away watching her. TONY (timidly) See? J.J. nods and hands Tony the letter. FREDERICKS Thank you, Tony. TONY (gently) Are you okay? She nods. FREDERICKS (knowing it's true, but not expressing it) He's very sweet. Christine's. Large communal room. Lucas and Paul are there, in a group with Zoe and three other girls. Lucas is sobbing, hard. Paul is scared for him, Zoe is shocked and scared _of_ him. Christine has her arms wrapped around him, holding him steady on the couch and trying to get him to calm down somewhat. Two months later. The launch bay doors open. There stands Lucas, a large duffel slung over his shoulder when three months ago that duffel weighed at least as much as him, if not more. Holding his books protectively against his chest, Lucas walks down the launch bay doors, unsure, but happy to be home. Ford, O'Neill, and Henderson follow him, smiling to be the bearers of such a lovely gift in Lucas. Lucas walks over to Hudson and stands before him, waiting, not trying to be good for him, being only who he is, not what Hudson wants, being the pure, gentle, content Lucas who has finally broken free after all these long months. Lucas is standing tall (albeit lopsidedly, the weight of his duffel is still quite considerable) before Hudson, weighing prime 129 pounds, his blue eyes bright and clear, his hair soft and shiny, a great improvement over the dull, lifeless stuff it was when he left, such an obvious sign of his poor physical health. Hudson smiles at Lucas. HUDSON (as Captain Hudson, not Oliver Hudson. Not letting himself get involved) It's good to have you back, ensign. LUCAS (smiling) It's good to _be_ back, Sir. HUDSON (asking purely for the sake of asking) How're you feeling? LUCAS Well, despite the fact you're not _supposed_ to badger me about my health, good, Sir. HUDSON Do you need any help getting unpacked? I'm sure someone would be more than happy to help you. LUCAS I think I'll manage on my own. HUDSON Very well, then. (beat, looking for things to day) Piccolo took the liberty of cleaning out your quarters, I hope I wasn't out of line asking him to do so. LUCAS (shaking his head, smiling) Oh, no, Sir, that was a job I was particularly _not_ looking forward to. Hudson glances uneasily at the rest of the people watching them, most of whom are obsessed with watching Lucas. Lucas looks around. LUCAS (grinning slightly) Twenty bucks says that they won't be there for me in three months when I need them, but _now_ all they can do is stare. HUDSON (gently) Lucas... Lucas snaps his head up in surprise, amazed that Hudson is capable of sounding so concerned. HUDSON (continuing) I'd like to speak to you about some things. Can you be in my quarters at eighteen-hundred? LUCAS (well, I...I...) I need to eat at six. HUDSON (shot down) Oh. How about twenty-hundred? LUCAS (shrugging) Okay. That's fine. Anything else? Noticing Lucas' star, Hudson takes interest. Lucas realizes the reason for Hudson's actions and reaches up to protectively touch his necklace. HUDSON (quietly) I had no idea. LUCAS (looking away, smiling) I know, I don't look my faith. HUDSON No, I just mean, I had no idea. LUCAS (looking at Hudson, grinning sarcastically) Well, when you're dying, God tends to be useful, and you can't take Him for granted the rest of the time. Lucas leaves Hudson with that thought. Hudson sighs softly, looks at the people gawking from the Launch Bay, and leaves quietly down the hall. Lucas' quarters. Lucas is there, asleep in his bed with the lights on. Tony pokes his head in Lucas' slightly open door. TONY (am I interrupting?) Lucas? He realizes Lucas is sleeping, looks at his watch, and walks quietly in, concerned for his friend. TONY (oh, God, man are you okay?) Lucas? Lucas picks his head up, wincing at the light, holding his hand over his eyes. LUCAS (still half asleep) Tony? What's wrong? Lucas sits up in his bed, making no move to get out of bed. He leans forward, pushing at his hair. TONY I was just about to ask you that very same thing. Are you okay? LUCAS Oh. (realizing) Yeah, I'm fine, Tony. It's just that...I'm really not eating as much as I should, my body can't handle it. So I have to sleep to make up for the energy I'm not getting from the food I _do_ eat. It's fine by me, I'm happy for _any_ excuse to sleep. Tony stands there quietly, thinking of some reason to stay, to be near his friend. TONY When do you start work? LUCAS In a week. (beat) Tony, I'm sorry. Tony shakes his head lightly, it's nothin. TONY (genuinely) No, _I_'m sorry, Lucas, let me feel sorry. Please. Lucas nods softly. He shrugs. LUCAS Okay, Tony, I _don't_ blame you. Tony smiles at him. TONY Thanks. LUCAS (grinning at Tony) I'm gonna try and get some sleep. Will you wake me up at six? TONY No problem. Tony walks over to the door and turns out the light. He closes the door and leaves down the hall. Lucas lies back and sighs softly, resting his tired body heavily against his pillows. Hudson's quarters. Captain Hudson is sitting at his desk, reading. There's a gentle, timid knock at his door. HUDSON (distracted) Cmin. Lucas walks shyly in, holding the soft cotton cloth of his T-shirt between his fingers, lightly brushing his hand against his belly, reminding himself of his stomachache, to fight it, not give in to it. LUCAS (softly, almost in fear) Captain? Hudson looks up, surprised. He smiles at Lucas. HUDSON Of course, Lucas, come over here. Sit down. Lucas goes over and sits, using his arms to lower himself doen, trying not to jar himself or cause himself any unnecessary pain. Hudson notices this and becomes concerned. HUDSON Are you all right, Lucas? LUCAS (nearly wincing in pain as he moves some) I just had dinner, it's a struggle just to keep it down. HUDSON (concerned) Is there anything you can do? Lucas shrugs, grinning at the thought of freaking his commanding officer out. LUCAS (lightly. serious, though) Stick my finger down my throat. Hudson looks absolutely horrified. LUCAS Captain, if I don't joke about it then I'm gonna go insane. (Hudson nods) There's nothing I can do but wait. (beat, as Hudson begins breathing again) Now what'd you want to talk to me about? Hudson looks at Lucas' bright eyes, his eagerness to please, his huge capacity for love and affection. But behind that Hudson sees the fear, the neediness, the insecurity. Lucas' utter desperation in his search for a companion. Hudson sighs softly. By now Lucas is terrified that he's going to be hiven bad news. Something's happened to Captain Bridger. Or perhaps Lucas' greatest fears have been realized. He's going to be dismissed from _seaQuest_. HUDSON (beginning) Lucas... LUCAS (feeling guilty) I'm sorry. HUDSON What? LUCAS (panicked, near tears) I'm sorry. I should've worked harder. I'm sorry. If I had known it had come to this, I would've let myself die. Captain, I'll do better, I'll work harder, if I weigh too much I'll lose weight, just _please_ don't make me leave _seaQuest_. The only people who have ever loved me are here and I _can't_ leave them! Hudson looks blankly at Lucas. HUDSON (uh...what am I missing?) What're you _talking_ about? Lucas looks at Hudson, tears still wet in his eyes. LUCAS Weren't you gonna kick me off _seaQuest_? HUDSON (realizing) No, Lucas, I wasn't going to kick you off _seaQuest_. I was gonna congratulate you. LUCAS (aghast) _Congratulate_ me? HUDSON Yes. I know how hard it is to overcome this sort of thing, Lucas. If it was easy then my best friend wouldn't've died. Lucas looks confused, but Hudson isn't ready to talk about that yet. HUDSON (trying to be sensitive but failing miserably) Lucas...you don't have to be afraid to talk to me. I know things are tough in the Navy, but I never thought they could be _this_ tough. I never knew you were in such pain, if you had told me maybe I could've helped you, maybe there's something I could've done. I never knew how much you needed our help until it was too late. LUCAS (smiling at Hudson) It's never too late as long as I'm still alive, Captain. HUDSON I so hope you stay that way. LUCAS Captain? Hudson sighs. HUDSON (softly) My best friend in the Academy died of anorexia. (beat, angrier) I should have realized what was happening to you! LUCAS (exhausted) Captain, I kept too many secrets, I covered my tracks very well, as much as I wanted to be found out, I was scared, and I took great pride in having so many secrets. Don't blame yourself, I can't begin to imagine what I would've done if you had caught me in the act. You can pretty much count on the fact that I would've killed myself. Captain, I was ecstatic I had _something_ for myself, if that was taken away from me before I had no other choice...I can't bear the thought. _I_ don't blame you, so don't blame yourself. Lucas looks quietly at Hudson. HUDSON (forced, in pain) I...read up quite a bit on eating disorders after Peter died, and I've been reading all I could find in the past three months. Lucas, if you ever want to talk to me, I'm always here. Lucas nods softly, his eyes not meeting Hudson's. He looks up, his eyes moist. LUCAS (seriously) I'm going to take you on your word, Captain, which means any given night at three a.m. I may end up here hysterical and I won't leave until I have what I want. HUDSON (completely clueless) What do you want? LUCAS Love. That's all. Hudson sighs softly, feeling terrible. HUDSON I think that's the one thing I can't give you, Lucas. It's just not who I am. Lucas looks at him, gently, kindly. LUCAS Why? (beat. Hudson reacts in mute silence) Why can't anyone just give me a pat on the back, give me a good atta boy and make me feel like a person again? I can't understand it. Why am I always the one everyone forgets? (beat, getting emotional) My Dad left me here...to die for all he cared. My Mom hasn't spoken to me for ages, never even wrote me a letter. I feel like _nothing_. I feel worthless, like I'm not even good enough to be acknowledged. I've tried _everything_ and I can't ever win! (beat, nearly sobbing) How far do I have to go?!! Hudson kneels before the shaking young man and gently takes him into his arms. Lucas rests his head on his shoulder and just stays there, trembling with emotion. LUCAS This is all I want. Just let me come to you. I would if I just knew I could. Hudson gently strokes Lucas' soft hair. Lucas sits up and sighs, wiping his hand over his eyes. HUDSON Do you need anything, Lucas? _Anything_? Softly, fingering the star around his neck, Lucas nods. LUCAS (timidly) Can I have some leave on the twelfth? HUDSON (gently) What for? LUCAS (broken up) It's a Saturday. Hudson nods, gently rubbing Lucas' arm. J.J.'s Quarters, later. She's quietly working at her desk, writing a letter home, catching up with her family. Her door opens and Lucas walks timidly in. He goes over and sits on her bed, watching her. She glances at him, then goes back to what she was doing. FREDERICKS Today was a really good day for me. (she glances at him) My best friend came home. She looks back, he looks ready to pounce and smother her with his devotion. She gazes at him, he looks ready to crack. She gets up, walks over, and sits beside him. She wraps her arms around him in an embrace. She sits back, gently rubbing her hand across his stomach. She stops in shock. FREDERICKS (surprised) My _God_, Lucas, you're like a _rock_! He looks around, confused. No, I'm not. He realizes she's speaking of his stomach. He reaches down and self-consciously touches his stomach. LUCAS (shrugging it off) Oh. Yeah, well...bulimia'll do that to you. FREDERICKS Really? LUCAS (joking) I wouldn't recommend it over sit-ups, though. She nods at him, resuming the serious tone from before. He looks at her. She makes a gentle, confused face at him. FREDERICKS Something's different. Are you in love? LUCAS (deeply) No. But I'm loved. FREDERICKS No, it's something else. He blushes. FREDERICKS Tell me about her. He looks apprehensive, but does as he's told. LUCAS (thinking back, smiling at some times, looking quite upset at others) She's seventeen and anorexic/bulimic. She's a dagger, but that doesn't matter. She's got some mental problems, but on her medication she's sweet and kind and loving and she's just so great. Her name is Zoe and she's absolutely lovely. FREDERICKS (thinking in Lucas' relationships this even _matters_) Is she smart? LUCAS Well, not like me, but she's bright and, you know, it doesn't really matter. I could fall in love with a person with a sixty-five IQ as long as she loved me and I could have a conversation with her. How smart or how pretty or talented you are doesn't really matter. FREDERICKS Where does she live? LUCAS The great potato state. (beat) I'm so happy. FREDERICKS (correcting him) No, not happy, content. Happy is just too much to live up to. He smiles. LUCAS You're right. Thanks. He stands. LUCAS (lightly) I'm gonna go. Wanna go get something to eat with me? FREDERICKS (brushing him off, stretching, indicating her own need for sleep) No, I'm fine. Get some sleep. He looks at her, his expression pained. LUCAS (desperately) J.J., come with me. I'm hungry. FREDERICKS (obviously) So eat. LUCAS (nearly begging) J.J., you're not understanding me. I'm _hungry_, I want to eat. It's late at night, I'm tired and this is my first night at home in a long time. This is when I binge and I need someone here with me to help me fight it. Just come and sit with me. Keep my mind off of eating. She looks at him blankly. He's desperate. No particular _physical_ reason, but he needs this _right now_. LUCAS J.J., I'm begging for your help. FREDRICKS (not understanding) But you're better, Lucas. You can do this by yourself, I know you can. LUCAS (near tears) I though you were going to help me. FREDERICKS (gently, but it cuts through him like a knife) Someone's _got_ to cut the cord, Lucas. Lucas is horrified at this treatment, this is absolutely horrible. She's torturing him. All his strength, every ounce of willpower he had is just gone. She thinks this is a joke, something he made up for attention. Darn right he wants attention, he wants attention so he can be _helped_. He's scared. He needs to eat, his body is telling him to and it only takes one time to bring back that lovely, hungry, powerful feeling, one time to get him going again. Lucas runs away from here, away to help and comfort and warmth and what he knows cares back. Food. Piccolo's quarters. He's lying in bed, reading a magazine. Lucas swings open the door and comes in. LUCAS (in desperation) Tony, help me. TONY What's wrong?! LUCAS (shakily) Tony, _help me_. TONY How? LUCAS (shutting his eyes, trying to drown out the feelings) Take my mind _off_ this. God, help me. Tony sits up in bed and tries to touch Lucas' shoulder, but he flinches away. TONY Buddy, what's going on? LUCAS I had to. Lucas looks up, his eyes red and puffy and bloodshot, his cheeks red. LUCAS (ashamed) I can't help it anymore. Tony just looks at Lucas as he realizes what is going on. Lucas' Quarters, morning. Lucas is asleep in his warm bed, looking for all the world content and happy within the dark confines of sleep, where loneliness and others can't penetrate. A hand reaches down and touches his shoulder. Lucas wakes, rolls over, and looks around, reabsorbing the fact that he's back on _seaQuest_. CHRISTINE (gently) Lucas. He looks up at her, stunned. He sits up in bed, petrified by fear and very confused. LUCAS (not quite in synch with himself) What's going on?! CHRISTINE (smiling at his expression) You needed some help. So I'm here. He looks at her. He's absolutely confused. His calm, safe world is meeting his hell and everything's terrifying, he wants to go back to sleep and find out this was just a dream. LUCAS (scared) Go home. CHRISTINE You don't mean that. LUCAS (forcefully) Yes, I do, go, get out of here. Leave me alone. Lucas looks around and sees they're alone in the room. He sits up and looks at her. She puts her arm around him as she sits by his side. CHRISTINE (gently) What happened? He shakes his head helplessly. LUCAS I don't know. CHRISTINE I think you do. He looks at her. LUCAS (very hurt and shaken up by the whole situation) I went to talk to J.J. because for months I talked to her when nobody was listening. Now, everyone was listening but her. She said she was my best friend but when I asked her to go with me to the galley so I would be good, she told me I was better and that I could do it on my own and that I didn't need her when I _really_ did. I _always_ binged at night and I knew the urge was too strong and it just took me over. I _knew_ I couldn't do it but she told me she had to cut the cord because I was being immature about it. CHRISTINE Did she _really_ say that, Lucas? LUCAS (emotionally) She said Someone's _got_ to cut the cord, Lucas.. Those were her words, I remember them clearly. CHRISTINE (cmon you _know_ this) Lucas, you can't listen to these people, they don't know _anything_ about what you're going through. LUCAS (trying to make sense of it all) She's not just one of _these people_, she said she was my _best_ _friend_, and I really felt she was. I thought that since she always knew what was best for me, maybe she would this time. So I went to the galley for some crackers or something and the next thing I knew, _literally_, I was throwing up in the men's head. I can't control it. CHRISTINE Lucas, you can _always_ control it, you learned that. You just have to _keep_ control of it. LUCAS (frustrated) I _can't_!! I'm not strong enough. She looks at Lucas, realizing a little something. CHRISTINE (lightly stroking his cheek) What do _you_ want to do, beautiful? Do you want to come back home? He nods, his eyes moist. CHRISTINE (comforting him, gently rubbing his shoulder) Lucas, honey, you can't stay with me and Paul forever, you have a life of your own to take care of. You have girls to meet and parties to be invited to and citizens to _protect_. LUCAS No. CHRISTINE No? LUCAS (sighs) I can't do this anymore. I _can't_ be in the Navy, I want to go home, I want to have a _life_. CHRISTINE Why can't you have a life here? LUCAS No one cares. No one wants me here, I'm not special anymore. CHRISTINE (she _is_ a licensed psychologist, you know. And it shows.) When _were_ you special, Lucas? LUCAS When I was younger. When I was special. When Captain Bridger was here to protect me. CHRISTINE (softly stroking his hair) You really miss Captain Bridger, don't you, baby? He nods sadly. LUCAS (looking sideways at her) I need someone to protect me. CHRISTINE (indicating with her eyes his necklace) You _have_ someone protecting you, Lucas. The most important someone. LUCAS Do you really believe that? CHRISTINE (getting deep) I may not have a religion, but I believe we're all here for a reason. I believe there's a reason why bulimics are, I believe there's a reason why some people get better and others don't. I believe that those terrified prayers sent while sobbing and purging and sitting alone in your room are answered, in some way, by a force higher than ourselves. I believe there's a reason why babies are born smart and why some aren't born at all. Yes, Lucas, I believe that. LUCAS (pitying himself) Then why are the good made to suffer so? Why are such good, innocent people lost to something so awful? CHRISTINE No one really knows the answer to that, Lucas. We just have to trust Him. (she almost laughs) You can't question His authority. Lucas almost cracks a smile. CHRISTINE (lovingly) Honey, just try to control it. I know it's hardest when you get back to the scene of the crime, but once you go a week without doing it, even if it's the hardest thing you'll ever do, that's when you'll see you _can_ live without it. You won't be cured, but you'll know. I think in your case all you need is a little reassurance and a little hand-holding. And that's the most respectable thing anyone can ask for. He looks at her, shyly. He can't be sure. CHRISTINE Maybe you're right, maybe you're _not_ ready, but you need to make an effort. I'm only a vid link away and if you need help I'll come, but not at the drop of a hat. Boy who cried wolf, remember? LUCAS (thinking) In my house it was just the boy who cried. And he was always me. CHRISTINE (wistfully) You deserve so much more than you have, beautiful. She hugs him. CHRISTINE (giving him hope) I _swear_, Lucas, it gets so much better once it stops hurting. LUCAS (mock disbelieving) It stops hurting? CHRISTINE (smiling at how adorable he is) Yeah, eventually. Once someone cares, once you have someone to love. LUCAS (confused) But you're not married. You're not even dating. CHRISTINE (thinking, smiling at all the happy thoughts, realizing it herself for the first time in a long time) Not all love is hearts and flowers and wedding rings. On any given day I have twelve best friends right at my fingertips. And any number of people I correspond to over e-mail, and at least fifteen groups of sick teenagers who need everyday help once they've gone. Lucas, love has many forms, we just need to know where to look. LUCAS (deeply) I love you, Christine. CHRISTINE I love you, too, Lucas. I'll be here for you as long as I'm on this earth. She hugs him. Twelve hours later. Lucas is in his quarters, writing, alone. There's a knock at his door. LUCAS (distracted) C'mon in. Brody walks in, carrying a tray of food with two meals on it. He pulls up a chair beside Lucas and lays the tray on his desk. Lucas takes a bowl of soup and a piece of bread and pushes his notebook to the side. BRODY (curiously) What're you writing? LUCAS Oh. (he glances back at it) It's nothing. BRODY (casually) You taking leave tomorrow? Lucas nods. LUCAS (honestly) I'm real nervous. Brody nods and just gazes toward Lucas' notebook as he eats. LUCAS Somethin' on your mind? BRODY Yeah, um...how come you never e-mailed us or even called? Lucas nods and sighs softly. LUCAS (explaining) We couldn't communicate outside of snail mail unless it was life or death. It gave us time to think, consider the feelings in our last letter, think about what to write in our next one. I like it sortof, I think it's quaint. BRODY Yeah, so's that word. I think about what I write when I e-mail people. LUCAS (sarcastically) Who would want e-mail from _you_? Jim laughs softly, Lucas smiles. Later. Lucas is walking down the hallway in a plain white men's robe, his hair fresh and clean from his ion shower, holding his clothes against his chest. J.J. turns a corner and sees him. Lucas wants to turn away, but knows he can't avoid her forever. She stops in front of him. He looks at her, his eyes are bright and clear and honest. She sighs. FREDERICKS I'm a chippy, Lucas, I have problems, too. He looks closely at her. LUCAS I never said you _didn't_ have problems of your own. I just thought... maybe...if you wanted to...since you said you were my friend... (he looks up at her) ...We could maybe help each other...or something... He looks away, at the floor. FREDERICKS Lucas, I don't know much about your disease, I don't know how it affects you, I don't know how long it takes to get better. LUCAS It takes forever, J.J., like alcoholism. Always recovering, never recovered. I'm always gonna need help, it's always gonna be hard, I'm always going to be tempted to hurt myself like this. It's a disease. I can't control it. She looks at him. FREDERICKS It wasn't my fault, Lucas. I just can't help it. It's the chip. I can't experience fear. You were terribly afraid and you came to me for help but I couldn't see how scared you were, it's been a long time and I just can't feel it. I can't even remember what it's like. I _want_ to help you, Lucas, you're my best friend. I've told you that so many times. I'd never abandon you, it's just that I really can't see how much you need me because I don't need people the same way. I don't _get_ scared. He looks closely at her. He steps forward and wraps his arms around her. LUCAS I was afraid you didn't care anymore. FREDERICKS Oh, Lucas, I'll never stop caring. You just have to let me know what's going on. The next day, late morning, early afternoon. A beautiful, yet simple, conservative Jewish synagogue. Lucas walks in, quietly. He is alone. A small satin skullcap rests lightly atop his head, on his soft, long hair. He walks over to a row of seats and sits down in back, sighing softly, if only briefly. He lowers his head in quiet contemplation, not really praying anything (as if he'd remember Hebrew from 6 years ago), but simply seeking some sort of harmony with whoever God may be, trying to make peace with himself, trying to accept the fact that this illness isn't his fault, but it's just so hard. An older man, a rabbi, walks in to tend to the synagogue, to clean up and prepare for the next service. The man turns and sees Lucas. Lucas looks up at him with those deep blue eyes rimmed with tears, begging for help. The rabbi walks down to him and sits in front of him, half-turning to make his presence known. Lucas just looks at him. RABBI Am I interrupting? LUCAS (sadly shaking his head) No. I wasn't doing anything, I don't even know what I'm doing here. RABBI (kindly) You need help. I can see it in your eyes. Lucas looks at him, Really? RABBI What's wrong? LUCAS (hurting) I, um...I've been real sick lately...and I just needed...to know He's still here. I can't do this by myself. I wanna know why He did this to _me_. RABBI What's wrong? LUCAS (it's real hard to say) I have an eating disorder. I'm bulimic. RABBI (sympathetically) Oh...That's awful. You don't have to do things like that, God loves you no matter how you look. LUCAS It's not about how I look, it's about the fact that I'm desperately alone in this world. Not even God is there for me. RABBI God is always there for you. LUCAS (bitterly) Then why am I bulimic now? RABBI The Lord works in mysterious ways. It may be a cliche, but it's still true. He has plans for you, maybe your illness is helping to prepare you for your life. God loves you. LUCAS (sadly) God can't hold me when I'm frightened. The rabbi ponders that a moment, then looks back at Lucas. RABBI How long has it been since you prayed last? LUCAS Formally? (the rabbi nods) Oh...not since my Bar Mitzvah. RABBI (guessing wrong) Four, five years? LUCAS Six. The man nods softly. RABBI Your heart is heavy, you need to let God in. He'll make your load easier to bear. (Lucas is watching intently) Other people may not love you like you need to be loved, but He always will. (Lucas' eyes are filled with tears) Child, it'll be all right, as long as you try, that's enough. He knows. (tears roll down Lucas' cheeks) Why are you crying? LUCAS (near breaking) I'm afraid, since I asked for so much, and never gave anything back, now, He won't give me any more. And I can't handle this by myself. RABBI (matter-of-factly) He will _never_ abandon you. I promise. You have a good heart, follow it. Let him in and you'll be just fine. Lucas nods softly. RABBI (quietly) I'll leave you alone. He stands to leave. Lucas turns around. LUCAS No! The rabbi turns back, Lucas gets scared. LUCAS (frightened) Will you help me? I don't remember what to do. The rabbi looks at Lucas' innocent face and nods softly, Lucas moves further away from the aisle and the man sits beside him. He picks up a book and gently places it in Lucas' shaking hands. Lucas' quarters, night. Lucas is asleep, peaceful. He still wears his star in his sleep. The camera moves toward his desk and over to his open journal. It reads: I am told by my mother, I am told with such love, that I am most perfect, like a single white dove. Now if they are right, then why is my flight, the only one, alone, in the dark, cold night? Why am I perfect? Why am I me? Just a single white dove, above the joyous sea. Lord, I am lonely, why am I me? Why am I the only white dove in the sea? I wish I was dark, stone gray like the sea, for if I was, no one would see me. When I should die, I wish I could fly, and get to the doves, who are white just like me. Fade out. The End. ========================================================================== Copyright Kathleen Brown, April, 1997