To Serve and Forget, a General Hospital story of 'brotherly' love by Sue Castle. Rated NC17 for explicit homoeroticism and incest between adult half-siblings. No copyright infringement intended (my fervent hope being no one at ABC ever has to know about this little outing in their sandbox).

"...to protect the Queen."

Lucky's mind went blank as his eyes widened. The wall was back, that invisible, unbreakable wall that stood between himself and his parents, himself and Elizabeth, himself and the world. He felt the cool, papery skin of her fingertips under his chin, vaguely recognized the look of a hunting raptor in her cold eyes. He'd been here before, he knew it, but the memories were behind another wall, not of glass, but of rock. He couldn't see or touch or feel them. He just knew they were there, and they hurt. She was speaking again, and he tuned in automatically to words he knew he'd heard many times before even though he couldn't remember them.

"I've missed you, my bright boy. It's clear you're forgetting your place. We can't have that." A flurry of movement behind, beside then in front of him obscured his vision of her, but couldn't block the rest of the words. "Tonight you will serve me." All he heard was her voice.

All he saw was Nikolas' face, then his back, anger in every tense line. The command embedded itself in his brain, dictating his actions, but the object of the command shifted to the man filling his field of sight.

"You stay away from my brother!"

The wall shattered.

Lucky gulped in air, looked around wildly, then turned and ran from the docks.

Nikolas was furious. Helena looked both startled, something he wasn't used to seeing on her face, and amused, an expression with which he was all too familiar. "Don't touch him!" he barked into her face, generations of Cassadine breeding cresting in the command.

"Oh, dear," she said sweetly.

There was a flurry of movement behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Lucky racing from the docks as if the hounds of Satan were on his heels. Turning back to his grandmother, Nikolas could well believe it. Evil could be beautiful. She was proof of that.

"Haven't you done enough?" he demanded. She shrugged an elegant shoulder.

"Enough? To save him from Caesar Faison? To heal and nurture him until he was well and-"

"Enough!" he barked again. She put a hand to her breast and gave him a disappointed look. He ignored it. "Just leave him the hell alone." She opened her mouth to remonstrate his harsh language and he raised his hand.

She actually flinched. He was appalled. In part because she actually believed he might hit her.

In larger part because he thought for a moment he would. And enjoyed the thought.

Shaking, he lowered his hand. "Stefan is missing. Luke's been charged with his murder, but I know better." He glared her into silence when she opened her mouth again. "Stay away from me. And stay away from my family." He turned on his heel and started off to follow Lucky. A musical voice followed him.

"But I am your family, darling."

He shook his head. "You gave up that right when you went after my father," he threw over his shoulder. Her tiny gasp made him smile, a hard expression that showed the family resemblance with crystal clarity, had he but known it. Putting her out of his thoughts, he concentrated on Lucky.

More than three hours later it was full dark, and he'd not been able to find his brother. He was stressed, angry, and frightened, feeling more lost than he cared to admit by the thought that his uncle, who'd been a father to him most of his life, was dead. The woman he thought he could love, given half a chance, was distraught, and he'd done nothing but add to her trouble. His half-brother, with whom he'd fought so hard to establish a relationship outside the insane feud between their families, was in flight, somehow under the control of his grandmother. Then, God help him, there was his grandmother, a woman who made harpies look nurturing by comparison.

He wanted to go home to Greece and forget all of them. But they'd just follow him. One thing Stefan had taught him very early was that he couldn't outrun his problems, because they ran beside him every step. He had to face them, conquer them, and go on.

Of course, he had to find them, first.

At wit's end, Nikolas took the launch back out to Windemere and wearily let himself in. Tears gathered at the back of his eyes as he looked around and saw so much of his uncle in everything around him. He bit his lip until he tasted blood, but he didn't cry. He had to think. Plan. Strategize. Be methodical. Figure out what the hell Helena had planned, and counter it. Find out what happened to Stefan, and take vengeance for it. Discover what was wrong with Lucky, and fix it.

The sheer weight of everything he had to do enervated him. Shrugging out of his coat, he tossed it over the back of the sofa and poured a glass of ice water from the service on the side table. Sipping it, he wandered upstairs, deep in thought. Not needing the light, working on auto-pilot, he stripped, dropped his clothing over the chair, set the glass on his bedside table, and sat on the side of the bed.

He was completely unprepared for the arms that came around his torso. The mouth that attached itself to the side of his neck. The strong, heated body that plastered itself against his back.

The arms pulled him backward onto the bed before he could so much as squawk. The body moved around and over him, and he found his arms full of ... Lucky. Naked Lucky. Naked, turned-on Lucky.

Nikolas didn't know when he'd tripped over the threshold into the Twilight Zone, but he really, really wanted to go home now. He opened his mouth to ask Lucky what he was doing, or tell him to stop, or perhaps to scream. Lucky put his tongue in Nikolas' mouth.

He froze.

Lucky seemed to take this as an encouraging sign, because the heat shot up several degrees. His hands were all over Nikolas now, caressing him, clutching and rubbing him. Nikolas screamed internally as those hands landed on his penis, but all that escaped around Lucky's tongue was a startled moan.

Another encouraging sign, it would appear. Lucky was all over him, and Nikolas found to his utter shock that he was aroused. Thoroughly and completely aroused. His brain was shrieking at him that this was wrong, this was his half-brother, obviously Helena had done something bizarre to him because Lucky loved Elizabeth and where on Earth had his little brother learned to do that?

The final thought was his last coherent one for some time, as Lucky pushed him back against the pillows. Long, lean thighs straddled him, a strong hand grasped him, and an inferno engulfed him. He lost track of the proceedings as his universe contracted to the soft brush of Lucky's hair against his face, the suction of their mouths working together, and the absolutely impossible gripping heat of Lucky's ass surrounding his cock.

Somewhere along the line he'd gone from the number three priority on his to-do list being 'find out what's wrong with Lucky' to the number one priority in his life being 'fuck Lucky senseless.' His hands had a mind of their own, not a bad thing given that his actual mind had left the building right about the time Lucky sank down onto him. They were roaming all over Lucky's ass, his back, his ribs, his shoulders, cupping his face as they kissed, then sliding back down over the sweat-slick skin to feel the tension and release of the muscles as Lucky rode him.

Words were falling out of his mouth in the scant moments when Lucky's tongue wasn't in it. He could dimly make some of them out. Wrong, yes, that was one. Please, that was another. God came up quite often. Most of them were in Greek. Some were in French. A very few were in English. Most of them sounded like prayers.

The sheets tore next to his head, and he pried open eyes he hadn't realized he'd shut to look up at Lucky. His brother's face was glowing, tensed with concentration, his mouth slightly open, harsh breaths panting from it. Lucky's hands were beside Nikolas' shoulders, and he was clutching the linen so tightly it was rending, the sound that had penetrated Nikolas' haze of lust. Sweat was trailing down from his forehead, over his temples, misting his skin, matting his hair, turning the golden silk dark. There was a flush along his cheekbones that spread across his throat down to his chest.

He was the most beautiful thing Nikolas had ever seen.

Nikolas stilled involuntarily, stunned by the thought. Lucky moaned, then humped against him, urging him back into motion. Heat nudged at his abdomen, and his hand moved of its own volition again, this time wrapping against Lucky's erection and tugging gently. One thumb came up over the top of the leaking glans, pressing lightly, spreading the pre-ejaculate, sliding against the slit.

His brother bucked hard in his grip, head falling back as his spine arched, throwing his ass deeply against the cradle of Nikolas' pelvis. The cock under his hand tensed and spat, convulsions flowing from the wet flesh gripped in his fingers through the tensed thighs clamping his hips, directly up Lucky's spine. The resulting spasms around his cock pulled Nikolas' orgasm from him, and his throat finally unclenched far enough for a single sound to make its way clear.

"Lucky!"

Stefan smiled down at the evening edition of the newspaper. His plans had worked to perfection. Luke Spencer would go to prison. If he, Stefan, couldn't have Laura, no one would. And Luke, whom he had hated for so many years it was practically a second skin by this point, would never see the light of day again.

A sound roused him from his pleasant reverie. The smile melted into a frown. No one should be in this part of the house. The servants had long since retired to their quarters, and the only other person who was allowed in the family wing was Nikolas. At the thought of the boy, as dear to him as any son could be, the frown deepened. The only difficult part of his plan was leaving Nikolas in the dark. He'd never lied to the boy.

Until now.

A second sound brought his head up and put him on alert. It was coming from Nikolas' room. Stefan's eyes narrowed and he quickly stepped to the desk, pulling out his nine millimeter handgun. The security web hadn't sounded an alert, but one could never be too careful.

Walking soundlessly down the corridor, he paused outside the door to Nikolas' room. Stilling himself completely, he listened. There was a strange noise, rhythmic, then a loud moan, and Nikolas' voice. Stefan stood bolt upright, staring at the closed door in shock. It certainly couldn't be what it sounded as if it were. It could not be his nephew. Having sex. With Lucky Spencer.

Swallowing dryly, he edged the door open and peeked inside.

He nearly dropped his gun.

Sprawled in sweaty, sated splendor in the middle of his bed was Nikolas. Draped over him in equally sated exhaustion was, indeed, Lucky Spencer. The stray thought that the boy had developed quite a lovely body ricocheted through Stefan's mind before he quashed it ruthlessly. Nikolas had one hand buried in Lucky's hair, the other smoothing up and down his back. As Stefan watched, Nikolas' softened penis slipped from Lucky's body.

Nikolas moaned. So did Lucky. To his surprise and mortification, so did Stefan. Happily, neither boy heard him. He swallowed again, and sternly ordered his burgeoning erection to give it up and go back to sleep. It took a firm tug on his scrotum with his free hand before it obeyed. He winced, adjusted himself, then, keeping to the shadows of the corridor, settled in to listen. And watch.

His heart was racing. His body was shaking. His lungs were on fire. His head ached.

Lucky burrowed his face against the side of the neck beneath it and wondered if the nightmare was ever going to end. Helena had fucked with his head big-time. He didn't know how she did it, but it was like there was two of him. And while this 'him' remembered everything, the other 'him,' the one who went back to Port Charles and tried to live his life, didn't remember what happened when he was this 'him.'

No damned wonder his head hurt.

He couldn't control what he did when he was like this. She did. She always had. From the time he'd been kidnapped, all through the months in that cabin as her prisoner, she'd been preparing him. Drilling him. But she'd had her fun with him, too. Once in awhile she'd say 'tonight,' and she'd say he'd 'serve' her, and he'd have sex with her. He couldn't stop himself. It was like he was standing outside himself, behind that thick glass wall, screaming and pounding on it. But his body would do what she told it to do. Most nights, it wouldn't be just her. She'd call in her bodyguard, or her chauffeur, or both, and they'd have at him. She liked that.

Lucky wondered if she'd like this.

He had. He'd never liked any of the others. With them, he'd fought, inside his head, the only place he could. He'd screamed 'no,' and even as he'd done whatever they told him, until he was as good at it as any prostitute walking the docks, he'd known he hadn't wanted it. With Nikolas ... with his brother, his mind had sat there. Not fighting. Watching.

Saying 'yes.'

He wanted to cry. Wanted to throw up. Wanted to do it again.

Nikolas shifted under him, and Lucky opened his eyes. Nikolas looked like he was in shock, only too relaxed to do anything about it. Thinking hard, Lucky let himself remember what Nikolas had said while they were fucking. Let himself actually hear it.

His brother hadn't known. The thought hit him like a brick to the head. Nikolas had been taken by surprise. Had said it was wrong, had even tried to fight, until Lucky pinned him down and took him in and rode him over. Nikolas wasn't in this with Helena.

For the first time since he woke up in that damned cabin, Lucky felt the wall begin to crack.

"What happened?" Nikolas asked him, his voice hushed in the darkness, catching a little.

"Tonight I serve," Lucky answered by rote. Those were the words she'd programmed into him. They were the only things he could say until she released him. Those, and the single word 'yes.'

His brother stared at him like he'd lost his mind. Then a different light entered those deep brown eyes. Internally, Lucky cheered. Yes, he urged. Figure it out, man. Get me out of this. Break me out. Set me free.

Hesitantly, tasting the words as he spoke them, Nikolas said softly, "You have to ... protect the Queen?"

The weird paralysis that kept Lucky's brain in stasis during those times loosened, but for once, the memories didn't disappear with the wall. Relief and release turned his arms limp, and he collapsed against Nikolas' chest. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," he muttered over and over into the warm, damp skin. Nikolas' hands were petting him soothingly.

After what felt like a couple hours of just being held, Lucky could finally put a thought into words, beyond mere gratitude. Nikolas was rubbing his hand along Lucky's spine, the other hand running through his hair. It felt like heaven. Summoning up all his strength, Lucky tried to answer Nikolas' question.

"I don't know what she did," he whispered. "It's like she brainwashed me, like I was in a cult or something. I can't fight it. Don't remember it when I'm not in the middle of it."

Nikolas' arms tightened around him. "What the hell did she do to you?"

Still under the compulsion, although his tongue was free, Lucky answered him. "She'd tell me, over and over, that my parents were evil. That they had to die. But first they had to be destroyed. That Elizabeth was yours, and I must have nothing to do with her. That I was hers, and always would be. Then she'd force me to have sex with her. With others there at the cabin. Her guards, whoever. She enjoyed it. Told me I was nothing more than a whore, like my mother."

An explosive exclamation came from Nikolas, causing Lucky to rock against him. He didn't understand the words, thought they must be Greek, knew just from the sound of them they had to be cuss words. Lucky gulped and kept talking, unable to stop.

"She'd tell me her plans, then laugh, say I was her only confidant because I was hers and I could never tell. She was going to kill Stefan, and try to get Alexis back. If she couldn't she'd kill her. Then she was going to manipulate you, have you take your father's place under her control. I was going to kill my Mom and Dad, then myself. You were going to marry Elizabeth and go home to the island. The dynasty would be assured, and she'd be in charge again."

Nikolas sat up, dislodging Lucky. He found himself moving back toward his brother. The compulsion to serve was working on him, and he couldn't fight it the way he usually could.

"Please," he said very softly. He was hard again. Nikolas stared at him.

"She did this to you."

Lucky nodded. One hand dropped to his lap and began to stroke himself, desperate to ease the ache.

"She planned this whole damned thing." Nikolas' voice was low. Cold. Deadly. Lucky whimpered again.

"Please," he asked once more. Nikolas' eyes focused in on him, pulled back from wherever they'd been, very far away. Lucky expected disgust, cringed away in case Nikolas was so pissed off from what had happened, what was happening, that he'd hit him. It didn't happen.

"God, Lucky," Nikolas sighed. His voice sounded sad, but his eyes were intent. Then his hand reached out and pushed Lucky's away, taking up the rhythm where Lucky'd left off.

It felt incredible. His mind and his body were in accord for once with this act, even knowing it was wrong. This time, Nikolas knew what was happening. He hadn't turned away. Lucky felt his body moving under his brother's hand, his hips thrusting, his hands reaching for Nikolas. Again, Nikolas didn't turn away. Instead he caught Lucky up against him and kissed him.

In the silence, in the darkness, Nikolas took the lead. He pushed Lucky down against the linens gently, his hand never stopping its work. In very little time Lucky was moaning uncontrollably, pumping up against Nikolas' hand, then coming hard over his clenched fingers. Nikolas stared down at him, breathing almost as hard as Lucky was. Lucky locked eyes with him, then slowly raised his brother's hand from his crotch to his lips. He licked the sticky fingers thoroughly, cleaning his seed from the fingers, dipping between them and running over the palm to clean the hand completely.

Nikolas growled. He pulled his wet hand away from Lucky's mouth and shoved it between Lucky's thighs, spreading them, pushing at the opening he'd already stretched. Lucky's head fell back and his knees raised. It was like all the other times had never happened, nothing had ever been done to him until he landed here, in Nikolas' bed. Months of being forced disappeared in the blaze of being asked, and for the first time he was willing. Wanting.

His legs wrapped around Nikolas' hips as he was filled for the second time that night. Relaxed from his orgasm, still loose from the previous fucking, he concentrated on breathing and feeling. Nikolas felt huge inside him, blunt and hot and determined. He looped his arms around his brother's neck and kissed him, shifting his hips and tightening his muscles at the same time he fucked Nikolas' mouth with his tongue.

It was even better the second time. As he felt another climax approach, he clung as tightly as he could to Nikolas. The movement of the hips against him and the cock within him speeded up, and he grunted with each impact. Time compressed, and the air around him grew thick. It felt solid. Dragging it into his lungs was an effort. He was light-headed, his body was wound tight as a spring, and his arms were shaking.

With a triple-hammer of his hips, Nikolas came. Lucky jolted out of the bubble of sensation around him at the feel of the fluid spurting inside him, and his orgasm ripped through him. He screamed into Nikolas' mouth and convulsed, arms and legs tightening in a death-grip around his brother's body.

The wall shattered completely.

For the first time in months, Lucky Spencer was free.

Stefan stepped away from the door, tearing his eyes away from the entwined bodies at the last moment. He was sweating freely, and his erection was back. His throat was dry. His mind was spinning.

This simply couldn't happen. It would ruin his own carefully laid plans to bring down Luke Spencer. It would allow his mother to win. It would place Nikolas in jeopardy.

It would cause Laura unendurable hurt. Before it took her life.

There had to be a way to stop this. Undo the damage, or if not that, at the very least contain it. Thoughts racing furiously, Stefan whirled and headed for the landing. He stopped by the office and picked up some supplies along the way, a small packet of C4 explosive, a timing device.

Lucky was being controlled by Helena. It was unacceptable. She had to be stopped. The manipulations had to end. Tonight.

Stefan Cassadine went to make a call on his mother.

The explosion lit up the skyline.

Nikolas was loath to leave his brother or his bed. There were so many things going on in his mind at the moment he could do nothing more than lay there, wrapped around Lucky, and try to make some sense of it all. Eventually he realized two things. Firstly, Lucky was making no move to leave either. That could be some part of the odd hypnosis Helena had imposed on him.

Secondly, he was rubbing his cheek very gently against Nikolas' forearm and whispering something. Nikolas forced himself to concentrate on the soft words.

"Thank you. Thank you."

Strange. Lucky was thanking him for, in essence, raping him. It certainly couldn't have been with Lucky's consent. Helena had disturbed his mind, taken his will from him. Made him into a plaything. Nikolas nuzzled the sweat-dampened hair at the nape of Lucky's neck and asked quietly, "For what?"

"You broke the wall."

That made absolutely no sense. He could feel Lucky smiling against his arm. Tentatively, he asked, "What wall?"

"There was a wall between me and the world," Lucky responded, equally quietly. "You broke it down. I'm me again. I still remember what happened, but I'm free. You broke down the wall."

Nikolas lay there, stunned. "Free?" he repeated stupidly. Lucky turned in his arms and hugged him tightly.

"I don't know how you did it, but you did. Thank you." He raised up slightly and stared intently into Nikolas' eyes. The blue seemed lighter now, brighter, more Lucky somehow.

"We can fight her now," Nikolas grinned. His brother grinned back.

Before Lucky could answer, a dull explosion rocked the house. They stared at one another in surprise before Nikolas untangled himself from bedclothes and brother and ran to the window. Out on the water, billowing smoke and shooting blue-orange flames rose from a large, floating white base.

His grandmother's yacht.

His eyes went wide and his knees buckled. Before he could fall, strong arms caught him up and held him. He leaned back against Lucky's chest. His brother's breath was soft against his cheek as he spoke.

"Looks like somebody finally caught up with her." There was a pause, and Nikolas let it flow, listening to Lucky's heart beat, listening to his own. "I'm sorry."

He looked over his shoulder. Lucky wasn't staring out at the yacht. He was looking back at him.

"Why?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"As bad as she was, she was your grandmother," Lucky told him. Nikolas shook his head.

"Don't be sorry. I'm not. Just be glad it's over." He could feel Lucky withdraw at his words, and he wrapped his hands around Lucky's arms, not letting him go. "What?"

"It's over," Lucky responded, stilling. Nikolas could feel those eyes staring into him.

Not having the faintest idea where this was going, only knowing that it felt more right than wrong, he answered, "Only if you want it to be." Still looking out over the water, wondering if Helena was really dead or if she'd managed to escape, wondering if Stefan was dead or if a miracle had happened and he was alive, not daring to wonder what would happen with Elizabeth or Luke or his mother, or anyone else for that matter, Nikolas held his breath.

Lucky moved forward. Wrapped his arms more tightly around him. Held on.

Nikolas sighed. He didn't know where they were heading. But he knew he'd come through in one piece, regardless of his family or Lucky's family, because his brother was right behind him.

fin