========================================================================== DIRTY LITTLE SECRET Kathy Wolenczak a.k.a. Kathleen Brown ========================================================================== Timeline: SeaQuest 2032 Author's E-Mail: kwolenczak@hotmail.com ========================================================================== AUTHOR'S NOTES: This has been a work of fiction produced by my sick little mind, not only because I adore causing harm to Lucas and everything he stands for, but also to educate and make the diseases of anorexia and bulimia a little bit _more_ known. It _can_ happen to boys, it _can_ happen to girls, and it does. While I myself have not been touched by the disease I know the devastation it can cause and I firmly believe that _anyone_ can get better if they want to, _everyone_ can beat this. Please, if you suspect you or someone you know is anorexic or bulimic, please, help them in any way you can. Don't insist they eat, don't punish them, don't threaten to leave them if they don't stop, that's the very worst thing you can do for them. _Help_ them. Offer to listen, go slowly, be kind to them. Don't accuse them straight out, ask them if they're okay, ask how they're doing (Gently!), offer to listen. Most of all, tell them they're beautiful. Find a trait about them that you adore and let them know how you feel, say how much you care for them. Yes, they may be stubborn, yes, they may refuse your help, and if they do, bring in a third party. Get them help in any way you can. For more in information, click on the URL below. http://www.something-fishy.com/ed.htm ========================================================================== Teaser. The year is 2032. _seaQuest_, cutting through the water at a high rate of speed. Lucas Wolenczak's quarters. Lucas is there, sitting at a small desk against a wall, resting back against his chair, staring contemplatively at his SEAPOC's screen. There's a gentle knocking at his closed door. Lucas looks up, surprised, and sits up in his chair. He makes a final assessment of the gibberish displayed on his computer before beginning his rapid typing. LUCAS C'mon in. The door opens and Lieutenant James Brody enters, carrying a full tray of food which he brings over and places on Lucas' desk. BRODY (watching) I didn't see you at mess today, I thought you might be hungry. LUCAS (eyeing the food suspiciously) Oh. I didn't go because I wasn't really feeling very hungry. BRODY (nonchalant) You okay? LUCAS (not looking up, he can't lie to Jim's face) Yeah, I'm fine, I just haven't had much of an appetite lately. BRODY (firmly) You should eat something, Lucas, you're nothing but skin and bone. Lucas quiets and looks down towards the floor. Looking confused, Brody reaches down and takes Lucas' right hand. Lucas looks up at Brody. Brody doesn't look at Lucas' face, he's studying an odd pattern of bruises on Lucas' fingers and knuckles. BRODY What'd you do to your hand? LUCAS (lying) I don't know, I must've banged it in my sleep. (trying to be polite) Jim, can you please leave? I'd really like to get back to work. BRODY (resigning himself to it) All right. Eat something. Lucas nods softly, waiting with little patience for Jim to leave. Jim looks closely at Lucas' face before closing the door. As it swings closed, Lucas sighs and looks around, as if someone is standing there, scolding him. Lucas pushes his chair away from his desk and stands. He picks up the tray of heavy Navy-issue food and carries it into his bathroom. He lifts the toilet seat and picks up the food with his bare hands. He crumbles the "meat" loaf into the water and dumps in the nondescript vegetables and pasta to go with it. He flushes the food down and makes his way blindly over to his sink. He begins compulsively washing the fat and grease off his slender, bruised hands as tears pour down his cheeks. End Teaser. Ship's mess. Night, around midnight. Lucas is there, sitting at a table, choking down a can of soda. He places it on the table and looks sadly at the empty aluminum cans and plastic wrappers of the food which is now so bravely held down in his stomach. His nausea is blinding, overpowering. He truly feels too heavy to stand. He wants immediate relief but lately his methods have become very painful. And he can't risk anyone knowing, Brody noticed the bruises, that means other people will, too. Besides, lately, there's been blood. To grant himself some amount of rest and healing, he chooses what is truly the more disgusting route. He stands and gathers the empty food wrappers and carries them to a waste can. He looks back at the hall, making sure he left no evidence, before he quietly leaves. Wendy Smith's quarters. (Contrary to popular belief, Wendy and Miguel never died. Miguel woke up wet and exhausted in his mother's house in Cuba. Wendy ended up on a tropical island where nobody thought to look before, in a previous incident, Tony located her through a series of dreams and premonitions using his long-forgotten psychic ability.) Wendy's there, sitting on her bed, reading a novel of some sort. There's a gentle knock upon her door, perpetrated by Lieutenant Brody once again. WENDY (not looking up) Come in, Lieutenant. Brody enters, he doesn't need to ask how she knew it was him. WENDY (concerned, but not alarmed) What's going on? Is everything okay? BRODY Oh, everything's okay with me. He has more to say. WENDY (pressing him for what he doesn't want to say) Then everything's not okay with someone else. Who? BRODY (quietly) Lucas. Wendy's interested. WENDY What's wrong with him? BRODY I don't know, but he's been acting...odd. WENDY Odd? BRODY Odd. He's been taking a lot of time off, but he won't go on leave, his work's not the same. WENDY How do you mean, "not the same"? BRODY There isn't as much attention to detail. Lucas was always a perfectionist. He's not anymore. WENDY (giving the impression she just doesn't want to have to get up) What makes you think he's sick? Can't he just have a bad day? BRODY His work's been declining for months now. Have you noticed how thin he's gotten? WENDY No. BRODY He has. And he's _trying_ to hide it. WENDY (making excuses for him) Lucas has _always_ been embarrassed by his weight. BRODY He doesn't come to mess anymore. This interests Wendy greatly. WENDY Are you sure? BRODY Unless he's eating at night now. WENDY (sighs) I'll talk to him about it. BRODY Thank you. WENDY I'm doing this for him, not you. Brody nods and leaves, that's enough for him. Lucas' quarters. He's standing in his bathroom, drinking a glass of water. He brings his hand to his mouth and swallows way more than one or two pills. He sighs and walks into his bedroom, turning out the light and turning on a new one. He unzips the front of his uniform and pulls the top down around his waist. He peels off the T-shirt underneath and reveals to us for the first time the extreme severity of what is happening to him. Every one of his ribs is visible, the vertebra in his back are highlighted with bruises simply from slouching in his chair. He takes off the rest of his uniform, squirms into a sweatshirt, and slides between the sheets of his bed with a sigh as the tired bones of his body find relief for the first time since last night. The green-glowing clock beside his bed reads "1:17". The green glowing clock beside his bed reads "2:03". Lucas wakes, lifting his head from the pillow, tired, wanting the feeling to end. He struggles his way out of the knotted sheets and walks to his bathroom. The door closes, the light goes on, and Lucas begins sobbing.... Hallway, morning. Lucas is walking down, alone. Miguel comes up behind and lays a hand on Lucas' shoulder, Lucas jumps in fear. ORTIZ Hey, it's okay, buddy, just me. Come to join us for breakfast? LUCAS Well, I... ORTIZ C'mon, it'll be good for the soul. Ortiz leads Lucas into the mess hall. Not twenty minutes later, Lucas is sitting at a table with a large group of people. They are laughing it up, having a wonderful time while Lucas sits alone with only his thoughts as his company. He's sad and lonely. He wants help but he's too afraid they'll take the only thing he has away from him. He wants company, someone to talk to, he doesn't want to sit here in the background. He just wants a little bit of attention. No one is listening to his cries. Not the cries he lives with every night, but the simple cry of him sitting here, alone. He is _screaming_ in their ears for help but no one is listening to him, they pretend that it doesn't exist, that maybe if they leave him alone his problem will go away. That _is_ his problem. He shakes his head softly and stands and leaves. He turns back in the doorway to see if he matters. No one noticed he left. Men's head. Lucas is there, crouched on the floor of a stall, leaning toward the while porcelain bowl. He lifts his right hand to his mouth and quickly sticks his fingers down his throat. He vomits heavily, bringing up very little, despite his strength. It's hard to throw up what you haven't eaten. As Lucas continues to dry-heave, his blood drips into the water from the fingers he scraped against his teeth. Sea Deck, Moon Pool. Lucas is there, pale, his lips bluish. He's rubbing his arms to try to warm up. Darwin is watching him. DARWIN Lucas is cold. LUCAS Yes, Darwin. DARWIN Lucas is sick? LUCAS No, Darwin. DARWIN Lucas is skinny. Lucas turns on his last friend as a string within his consciousness simply snaps. He braces both his arms on the pool railing in order to lean foreword and not fall in. LUCAS Are you gonna start criticizing me, too, Darwin?! Jump on the bandwagon, everybody make fun of stupid skinny Lucas! Fine! Everybody make fun of me because someday soon I'm gonna be gone and you are going to regret every word that you said! Wild with anger and shaking with the fear created by this anger, Lucas leaves into the hallway. Wendy sees him and suddenly understands what Jim was speaking about. WENDY Lucas! He turns and sees her face. She could know, don't run away, show her that the truth isn't true. He stays right where he is, letting her catch up to him. WENDY Are you all right, Lucas? I heard you yelling but I couldn't make out what you were saying. LUCAS I'm fine. What is it? WENDY I wanted to ask you something, is this a bad time? LUCAS No, just walk with me. WENDY (acting (quite badly) as if it's no big deal) I just wanted to know if you could tell me your weight at the moment. LUCAS I don't understand. My weight's fine. WENDY How much do you weigh, Lucas? That's all I was asking. His defensive actions were a confirmation of Wendy's fears. LUCAS Oh, I don't know off the top of my head... one-thirty? Why is it so important? WENDY You appear to be getting thinner. LUCAS Oh, that, I've been working out, I guess I haven't been eating enough. WENDY Lucas, honestly, do you know what an eating disorder is? LUCAS (hurried, desperate) Please, Wendy, I've got a ton of work to do, I'll talk to you later. He starts to walk away, rapidly. WENDY Lucas! He stops and turns, he's crumbling inside, that's why he wants to get away so badly, he doesn't want her to see him cry. WENDY (gently) I'm here if you want some help, Lucas, please, think about it. Anything, I'm here for you. She's inside his fears, she knows what he wants more than anything in his life. He wants to be heard. He nods sadly, the tears already filling his eyes. WENDY (softly so as not to let him think he's accusing him) This happens to other people, Lucas, there are doctors who can help you. LUCAS (shaking his head slowly) No. It's just me. He walks away. Wendy is terrified for his sake. Bridge. Lucas is there, walking up to his post on the starboard platform. Hudson looks up from his console at him. HUDSON Wolenczak, you're not working today. LUCAS (confused) Yes, I am. HUDSON No, I'm afraid not, Doctor Smith just called to say she's giving you the day off. LUCAS I don't want the day off. HUDSON Oh well. And she says she wants to see you in Sea Deck as soon as possible. Lucas doesn't want to go, but he follows orders and does anyway. He leaves. Hallway, looking toward the stairs at the end. Lucas walks down the stairs, slowly. He walks down along the swim tubes. He breathes deeply and closes his eyes, stopping for a minute. He gives a soft moan and passes out onto the ground. Dagwood turns a corner and sees Lucas lying there. He goes over, concerned. He crouches down next to Lucas' unconscious form. DAGWOOD Lucas? Lucas, what's wrong? Are you sleeping? Mmmm... Lucas... Dagwood stands and leaves, troubled. Sea Deck. Lucas is there, petting Darwin. Wendy comes in, confused. WENDY Lucas? He turns. WENDY Are you all right? Dagwood came and said you were unconscious. LUCAS I'm fine. Oh, you know what it was, I fell coming down the stairs, that's probably what it was. WENDY No, he said he came over and tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't wake up. LUCAS Then Dagwood doesn't know what he's talking about. WENDY Lucas, Dagwood's your friend, he was only trying to protect you. Lucas stands there, what she's saying is making no impact upon him. LUCAS I don't have any friends. He heads off toward the door. WENDY Lucas!! He ignores her WENDY (desperate to make him listen) This has happened to other people! You're not the only one! He leaves, simply. Three Days later. Bridge. Lucas walks weakly in, staggering up to his post. He sits and puts on his headset, trying his very best to work through the pain. He's not ready to die yet, and he won't let anyone know until it is too late. Unfortunately, a determined mind is no match for Lucas' weak and deteriorating body. He passes out onto the floor of the bridge. There's a brief moment of chaos before Captain Hudson and Miguel run to the young man's aid. He's soaked in sweat, shivering, and moaning softly as his thin body ravages him with pain from the fall. HUDSON Somebody call a med-unit! Tim does, he already was. O'NEILL Already done, Sir. ORTIZ What's happening to him?! HUDSON I don't know. Hudson reaches forth and unzips Lucas' uniform to reveal to us the sweatshirt Lucas wears under his jumpsuit. Hudson lays a hand on Lucas' chest, feeling his thumping heart but not the usual rise and fall that signals breathing. He puts his hand beneath Lucas' nostrils to feel his warm, moist exhale. He feels it. HUDSON He's breathing. It's okay. ORTIZ But what's wrong, Sir? HUDSON I don't know. Lucas' face is serene as the pain ceases and he lapses into an unconscious state. Hudson strokes his long blonde hair. MedBay. Lucas is there, sleepily waking. Wendy's by his side, placing another blanket over him. Lucas' frightened eyes flash around in fear. The feelings are just too strange. There are IV lines in both his arms, and a tube feeding a cream-colored liquid down his nose. He can hear the sound of his own heartbeat on a nearby EKG machine. Wendy turns and looks at him, stopping to stroke his cool forehead. WENDY It's okay, Lucas, calm down. You're all right. You fainted and we're keeping you here. He's confused. WENDY You have a disease, Lucas, called anorexia. Do you know what that is? His eyes are terrified. She can't be sure he does. Raised a rich kid where eating disorders aren't spoke of, it isn't likely. WENDY It's when you don't eat, so you can get thin. You're bulimic, too. You binge on junk food because you're just so hungry... but then you throw it up. Did you think you were fat, Lucas? No answer, he's just too tired to function. WENDY Did you want people to notice you, Lucas? Were you lonely? Were you scared? His eyes say yes, but of course he won't admit to it. WENDY (gentle but firm, not _trying_ to make him feel bad, but doing it anyway) You did an awful lot of damage to your body, Lucas. You had an ulcer bleeding in you stomach, your throat is all torn up, so much so we couldn't even put this tube down it. You have severe imbalances in you blood, you're dehydrated, malnourished, literally _starving_ yourself to death. Your blood pressure was down to eighty over sixty, a few of your teeth are loose, even you _hair_ started to fall out. Here. She touches his head behind his ear, his eyes close with shame. She resists the temptation to hug him. WENDY You weigh ninety-four pounds, Lucas. A healthy boy your age and height should weigh a hundred and sixty. You have to eat. LUCAS (softly) I can't eat. I don't want... WENDY What don't you want, Lucas? He's done talking. WENDY (practically begging) Lucas, what do you want? If you did this because you don't want be fat, don't worry about it, you were a very sick child and you're still a very slender young man. It's doubtful you'll ever be _normal_. Why did you do this, Lucas? LUCAS I want to be someone special. WENDY (encouraging him) Lucas, you _are_ special, you're smart and funny and handsome and very, very sweet. LUCAS (wistful) I want to be noticed. WENDY (pressing him, the last thing he need now is to be pressured) Lucas, in time, you'll find love. LUCAS (with venom) It's not about love, it's about everyone ignoring my existence. WENDY But you thought you were fat. LUCAS (sighing) I was. WENDY (firmly) No, you weren't. LUCAS (whining slightly, making excuses for his actions, wanting her only to shut up) Tony made fun of me. WENDY (gently) I'm sure he was only kidding. LUCAS (cranky) Still hurt. She's ignoring the business at hand, basically telling him his heartfelt feelings mean nothing. WENDY Do you want to get better? LUCAS (turning away) Leave me alone. Wendy pats his bruised hand and sighs. WENDY Get some rest. Hudson's quarters. Wendy knocks on his door. HUDSON C'mon in. Wendy walks in, subdued. Hudson is worried about Lucas, and he's not afraid to say so. HUDSON How is he? Is he all right? WENDY He's anorexic. HUDSON (quiet, concerned) I was in the Academy with a young man who had that. He died. WENDY I doubt Lucas will _die_, but I think he's going to have a hard time getting better. HUDSON Does he _want_ to get better? WENDY No, not at the moment... (Hudson rolls his eyes, not at Lucas, but at Wendy) ... But I'm sure we can show him a way out. HUDSON (knowing, from personal experience) You can't _reason_ with people who are sick like this! WENDY (getting rapidly annoyed.) And how would you know, Oliver, are you the one with the Ph.D. in Psychology? Did you major in treating illnesses like this? HUDSON (thinking only of Lucas' health and safety) You're letting your personal feelings toward Lucas get in the way of his proper treatment! WENDY (patronizing him) Well what do _you_ think we should do?! HUDSON Whatever is in Lucas' best interest, that's what! WENDY (accusing Hudson) You want to send him away to a rehab center, you want him off this ship! HUDSON (calmly) If that's what it takes to help him. WENDY _We_ can help him. HUDSON Has he told you why he did this? WENDY He doesn't have to, I already know why. HUDSON ("This should be good") And why's that? WENDY Lucas has an obsessive cast on his personality. He's also lonely, insecure, and craving attention. In his mind, his life is out of his control, he needed to be in control of _something_. The easiest thing he had available was his weight. He always needs to have the final word in whatever's going on. He's a perfectionist. He picks things and sticks with it until it's as good as it can possibly be. It's the way he is with computers, it's the way he is with this. HUDSON How low does he want his weight ninety? Eighty?! WENDY He weighs ninety-four, he hasn't told me how low he wants it. I think until someone reaches out to him. He's crying out to us for help. No one was listening. HUDSON Is he out of his _mind_?! WENDY (calmly, showing off her own knowledge) It's a psychological ailment. Yes. Hudson thinks. HUDSON How is he? (beat) I mean, what kind of a state is he in now? WENDY That depends on why you're asking. HUDSON Would he willingly _choose_ to get better? WENDY (not believing he'd actually _ask_ that) Tonight? (Hudson nods.) I don't know. I think you should see him with your own eyes before you get too far ahead of yourself. Hudson nods once more. MedBay. Captain Hudson and Doctor Smith walk in first to hear Lucas' heart monitor to be flatlining, then to find Lucas not attached to it. He's gone. WENDY (panicked) I'll check Sea Deck, you get his quarters. She leaves. Hudson nods, disoriented, before he follows. Sea Deck. Wendy's there, trying not to hyperventilate. Hudson runs in. HUDSON Nothing. (A moments silence) Wait. You said he was bulimic, too, right? She nods. Oh yeah.... Galley. Lucas is there, in the kitchen, at the private crew's refrigerator, gulping down nearly anything he can _find_. He finishes. He realizes what he has _done_. The guilt sets in. His stomach _aches_. He tries to sink to he floor until the pain passes somewhat. Wendy and Hudson run in. Terrified of the repercussions for his actions, he stands and tries to stagger out of the room. He just can't. Hudson grabs the boy from behind, accidentally performing a motion similar to the Heimlich maneuver on him. The contents of Lucas' stomach fall to the floor with a sickening splash. Lucas moans softly in pain but smiles at the looks of horror on the adult's faces. Hudson becomes furious as Lucas' stupidity and, as if this would appease the situation, takes the tightly-held bag of bones and tosses him heavily into the wall. Lucas' eyes close and his head hangs forward as the wave of pain finishes its journey across and along his body. HUDSON What the hell is _wrong_ with you?!!! Lucas looks childishly up at Hudson. Outside he is cocky. Inside, he is crying. LUCAS (smiling weakly) I can do something you can't. Something in this desperate statement and Lucas' sickly-sweet breath touches Hudson inside and he realizes, for the first time, that Lucas _isn't_ doing this to piss him off. He releases his grip on Lucas' shirt and reaches up to gently stroke Lucas' long hair. HUDSON I'm sorry, Lucas. But I want to help you. Come have a meal with me and Doctor Smith. If you keep it down for a good solid hour I'll let you sleep in your room tonight. WENDY _Captain_. I don't think so. LUCAS (begging) Please, Wendy. I can, I know I can. She sighs softly and nods. 2:34 am. Galley. Lucas is there, sitting at a table with his head resting on his arm as he dozes. Hudson gently touches his shoulder. Lucas raises his head, groggy. HUDSON Wake up, Lucas. LUCAS An hour already? HUDSON (treating Lucas as if he is his father) Good job, son. Now go to your room and try to get some sleep. Lucas looks around slowly and tries to get his wits about him, then nods, stands, and leaves. HUDSON (to Wendy) You know, I think he's gonna be okay. Lucas' quarters. The clock reads "4:50". A sheet passes in front of the glowing green light crystals and we turn to see that Lucas is making his bed at 4:50 at night. How odd. We get nearer to his face and see that his hair is wet, his clothes are fresh. Lucas finishes placing new sheets on his bed and sighs deeply and shakily; the kind of sigh usually ends a bout of crying for hours and hours at a time. He lies down and curls up between the clean sheets, then begins to softly weep once again. Morning. Lucas' quarters. He's pulling on his uniform over his sweatshirt, which, despite strict uniform regulations, he wears to compensate for his extremely low blood pressure, because it often makes him so very cold. There's a bold knock at his door. LUCAS (not looking up) C'min. Lt.(jg) Tim O'Neill walks in carrying the clean sheets from Lucas' bed last night. O'NEILL Lucas? LUCAS Oh, hey, Tim. What's goin' on? O'NEILL Are these yours? Lucas looks at the linens in Tim's arms. LUCAS (flatly) No. (looking away at something, _anything_, else) Why would you think they were mine? O'NEILL Well, I thought I saw you carrying these to the laundry room last night. LUCAS (shaking his head) Nope. Sorry. Wasn't me. O'NEILL Oh. Well, thanks anyway. (an afterthought) You feeling better? LUCAS (briskly) Yup. Nothing a good night's sleep couldn't cure. Tim nods suspiciously. Didn't seem that way at the time. But, either way, Lucas's his friend, if he wants to talk, he will. Tim leaves. Lucas walks into his bathroom and opens up the medicine cabinet. He takes out a box of non-prescription medication. He stops and puts the pill box back. LUCAS (to himself) Don't do this to yourself, man, you're better than this. He thinks and takes out the pills again. LUCAS But... if I eat, then I'll have to do this all over again. He goes over to his bathroom scale and steps up on it. It reads "93". LUCAS It's not enough. They haven't listened. (beat) By the time I'm done eating they'll be working, I won't gain and if I don't eat then Hudson'll make me go back to MedBay. This is the only way. He places at least five of the pills in his hand and swallows them dry. He nearly chokes. Galley. Lucas is there, having a soft meal to spare the wear and tear on his throat. He's sweating badly, pale. Frightened. He sighs deeply and wipes his hand across his face. He gives a loud groan of pain and falls to the floor, clutching his abdomen. He continues to moan, he can't help it, he's feeling pain like he's never felt before. Ford drops his tray and runs over to kneel by his side. FORD (horrified) Get a med-unit, NOW! MedBay. Wendy gives Lucas a hypo injection. He's calm now, sleeping. Wendy takes his wrist and feels his booming pulse through his thin skin, then lays his hand down on the bed as she strokes his dry, brittle hair. She turns and walks over to a very shaky Captain Hudson. HUDSON What happened? WENDY It's my fault. I assumed he was too smart. Turns out he was. HUDSON You're not making any sense. WENDY I had assumed he was too intelligent to be this stupid. It turns out that he was simply too smart for his own good. He knew what he wanted out of his bulimia and just grabbed up the opportunity. Hudson gives her a blank look. WENDY I thought he knew the risks of laxatives. He did, and he didn't care. That's why he did this. He wanted to lose that water weight, he _wanted_ to starve himself, I think he even _wanted_ to be caught. He is terrified, Oliver, he wants to be helped, it's why he keeps running away. He needs to be helped by someone who has been through it. I know I can't sit and listen honestly to him without somehow hurting him. I'll say something stupid, I'll tell him to eat, I'll increase his guilt and start the cycle all over again. HUDSON Where can we send him? WENDY I'm not sure. But we have time yet, I have to wait for him to be physically stable before I can send him away. Hudson nods softly, trying to absorb all this at once. HUDSON (still confused) But what happened? WENDY In the Galley? (Hudson nods) He took laxatives before he ate in the hopes he'd be done eating when they kicked in. He wasn't. He was overcome by the stomach cramps. HUDSON (pondering it) He was taking laxatives. WENDY Yes. He was incredibly involved in his illness. (beat) Oliver, he needs help. Hudson nods softly. UEO Hummer transport. Lucas is there, huddled against a door, dressed in civvies, his leg pulled close to his chest with his foot wedged onto the seat, feeling angry and betrayed. WENDY (gently) Lucas. LUCAS (looking out the window) Go to hell. WENDY (motherly) Put on your seat belt. He ignores her. She reaches out to touch his waist. LUCAS (drawing as far back as he can, furious) Leave me alone! She backs off. Since she put in the feeding tube three days ago as he laid helplessly in MedBay at 90 pounds, he has been violent and angry towards her. She can't really blame him. LUCAS I'm not an anorexic. WENDY You're bulimic. You're both, in fact. LUCAS No, I'm not!! She's unfazed by his behavior. Lucas leans toward Brody in the driver's seat. LUCAS (innocently, trying to get Jim to defend him) Why are you letting them do this to me, Jim? BRODY You need help, Lucas. LUCAS You really believe that? Brody looks in the rearview and nods at Lucas. Lucas looks out the window. Out of nowhere (i.e.: with no provocation.) blood streams from Lucas' nose. Wendy freaks out in fear and grabs a bunch of tissues from a box in the front seat and reaches out to hold them against his face. He flings her hand away and wipes his nose with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his face but not getting anywhere. Tears stream down his sad face as he stares out the window. Lucas, screaming angrily. LUCAS You can't do this to me!! I wanna go home, I'm _not_ sick!! This is _so_ typical of you guys, here I am screaming and you are _all_ ignoring me! Fine, you have me begging, take me home!!! He's very close to tears right now. He's standing in the front hallway of a house, screaming furiously at Wendy, Ortiz, Brody, and Ford. WENDY (in an effort to comfort him) Lucas, you're sick. LUCAS (furious, but near tears) I'm not sick! I'm lonely and frightened and terrified out of my mind, but I AM NOT SICK!I am screaming in your faces but you are _not_ hearing me!! I wanna go home, take me home! Wendy's trying to work her way into Lucas' wild, complex, out-of-control mind. She reaches his state of thought and sees the less-than-comfortable picture of Lucas as a small boy huddled in a ball on the floor of an upper-class house, his eyes closed, terrified by the sound of his parents fighting deep within their room for the sake of their child not hearing. He hears. This frightened little boy is who Lucas is inside. Wendy steps toward him, her hand outstretched. Around them, standing on a stairwell and in a doorway, are slender teenage girls. WENDY (pleading) Lucas. He won't listen to her. From behind comes a woman's voice, the voice of Christine Fitzgerald, the woman who owns and operates this home. CHRISTINE (gently, to get his attention) Lucas. He turns to her, seeking solace in someone, _anyone_ but Wendy. CHRISTINE You don't have to be afraid of coming here. I promise, we're here to help you. LUCAS There's nothing wrong with me; I'm not sick. CHRISTINE You're terrified of your life. Every morning you wake up wondering why you woke up today, why it all just couldn't end. You get up and put on a sweatshirt under your uniform to ward off that awful cold. You take some Tylenol for that headache you always get. You go down to the galley and pick up some vitamins and drink a few glasses of water. Then, lately, you've had to run down to the head to go throw up. You can't understand why, you're not _making_ yourself sick anymore, your body just does it on its own. (beat, she thinks a little) You feel terribly guilty, but you can't stop it now. You spend the day working with a stomachache, your hands tingle and shake, you're freezing cold, you get dizzy, black out on occasion. You're covered in bruises just from sitting in your chair. You get scared when you lie alone in your bed at night, your stomach twists with those little reminder cramps, you know? You decide, maybe you'll go get something to eat, hey, if you're hungry, you're certainly not going to reject this food, right? You go get something to eat, you end up eating all the brownies or the snack pies or the entire box of Solar Smacks, whatever. That's how it is, isn't it? He looks quietly at her, amazed and enthralled. CHRISTINE (continuing) You're in too much pain to move, you feel like it's never going to go away, you can't just let it happen. You go down to the head. You slip into one of the stalls without anybody seeing. You crouch down on the floor. She takes his callused and still-bruised right hand. He stares at her, mesmerized. CHRISTINE You take your right hand, this hand. He looks at her, astonished, it's like she's been watching him all this time. CHRISTINE (continuing, with his full attention) You bring it up to your mouth and slip it down your throat. It happens faster than you remember it, no matter how many times you do it. The bile burns your throat. It hurts so badly. But you can't make a sound. You lower your head and throw up. It hurts and you hate doing it, but you can't stop. You have power over something nobody can take away from you. You need that, that is what makes you special. That's how it is, isn't it? Lucas nods softly, his eyes filled with tears. CHRISTINE That is _not_ what makes you special, Lucas. You are special because you are beautiful on the _inside_. You are a perfect and unique human being. You are beautiful when you are most happy, not when you fit the example of how people think you should look. LUCAS (miserable) I'm not happy yet. CHRISTINE (sarcastically) Lying in a hospital bed with a tube down your face for the rest of your life isn't gonna make you any _happier_. LUCAS (close to tears) I don't know if I remember what being happy is like. Wendy sighs softly, all four are watching them with their undivided attention. CHRISTINE You have to get better before you can be happy. I can help you get better. _I_ will listen to you, _I_ will be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, _I_ will be here when _ever_ you need me! Let me take care of you, Lucas, I promise not to take the power you have worked so hard for to slip away. Now tell me why you did this, sweetheart, who said you needed to lose weight? LUCAS Tony. CHRISTINE (grinning at Lucas, trying to make him feel a little better) Well, Tony's an asshole. Tony steps forward to defend himself, refusing to believe that what Lucas is saying may actually be true. TONY Hey, you got somethin' you wanna say to me? Christine glances at Tony and grins at him, not _to_ him, but _at_ him. CHRISTINE (smiling gently at very shaky Lucas) Tony's not very smart, is he? LUCAS (sniffing softly, wiping at tears) No. CHRISTINE (she nods softly) Yeah, see, Lucas, Tony's slow. When he makes fun of you, to him it's all very tactful and subtle, but your mind doesn't work the same way, you pick things up much quicker than he does. And you're a very sensitive and trusting guy, when a friend says something bad to you, you take that as advice, not a joke. LUCAS Basically Tony's jealous. I'm smarter than him. CHRISTINE That might be a reason. LUCAS (realizing what he perceives as his own stupidity, not his sensitivity, near tears) Tell him... tell him how much it hurts me. CHRISTINE (giving a sidelong glance to Tony, who is horrified by this entire conversation) I think he knows. Tony steps forward, he _looks_ very sorry, but we have no evidence he's telling the truth TONY (realizing the impact those words had, genuinely sorry) Lucas, I'm sorry, man, I didn't know. LUCAS I don't forgive you. I don't think I ever will. You need to know that I'm like this, and it's your fault. I'm dying because you made fun of me. CHRISTINE Lucas, it's gonna be okay. LUCAS (finally getting a grip on himself, wiping away tears with the back of his hand) I don't want to go home. I want to be happy. Christine looks at his once-proud face and sees only the hollow, burnt-out shell of a young man who had his whole life ahead of him. Now his biggest challenge in life is simply swallowing a mouthful of Jell-O. Ortiz feels the need to step in, knowing that this silence can't continue. The girls in the doorway are looking on, whispering softly amongst themselves, wondering if this _gorgeous_ guy is going to stay here with them. ORTIZ Here's your stuff, Lucas. He places Lucas' bag on the floor. BRODY We're gonna go now, okay, buddy? Lucas nods softly as Christine picks up his bag. WENDY Call me if you need anything, sweetheart. LUCAS (with venom) I don't want anything from you. She sighs and leaves out the front door. The rest of the party follows, with only Ortiz stopping to look back at the boy he watched grow up and then take the spiral down. LUCAS (raising his eyebrows slightly, "What are you staying for?") Go. CHRISTINE I'll call when he's ready to come home, but don't hold your breath. Ortiz leaves quietly, knowing that Lucas is in good hands. The door swings shut and Lucas looks at the one person in the world he _knows_ understands him. CHRISTINE Let's get you moved in, okay, beautiful? LUCAS I'm not beautiful. CHRISTINE (with great love and understanding) Of course you are. There's beauty in every pure heart. He looks at her with tears in his eyes once again. She gently rubs his shoulder. CHRISTINE C'mon. Let's get you moved in. They head up the stairs. The slender girls move out of the way. CHRISTINE (calling, not looking down at them, gently taking Lucas' hand) Come on, ladies, he's just like any one of you. A very plain-looking but quick-witted girl pipes up. LEIGH (with sarcasm) We don't qualify as "he's". Several girls laugh. Lucas looks down the stairs with his sad, sad, eyes, not sure _what_ to make of these people. A dangerously thin Dagger girl named Zoe looks up at him and smiles warmly. Her kindness brings the first smile on his lips in weeks. He heads upstairs to his room for what may be the next few months. Inside his room, it's a double room, with two beds, dressers, and closets, the only thing shared is their desk. Lucas is sitting on his bed, watching Christine fill out a form. CHRISTINE (compassionately) How much did you weigh before you started all this, Lucas? LUCAS One-thirty. CHRISTINE Skinny to begin with. So was I. LUCAS You did this, too? She nods softly. CHRISTINE How tall are you? LUCAS Five-foot-nine. Ten? On her form under the category of "Ideal weight before departure", she writes "129". LUCAS How much weight are you going to make me gain? CHRISTINE (grinning) That's for me to know and you... not to know. She grins. Lucas sighs softly. LUCAS Who'm I sharing this room with? CHRISTINE (not looking up) Paul. LUCAS This happens to other guys? CHRISTINE As much as you wish it was, Lucas, this isn't your ingenious idea. LUCAS What's he like? A slender boy with dark hair and eyes and gold-framed glasses walks in, eyeing Lucas. CHRISTINE Kinda like that. PAUL Hey. Lucas nods toward him. The boy walks over to the night-table next to his bed, looks through a drawer, doesn't find what he's looking for, and walks into the bathroom they have to share. LUCAS (whispering) Why's he here? Paul comes back in, holding a book. PAUL (practically rolling his eyes at Lucas) Take a wild guess. CHRISTINE He's anorexic. He's also our local smartass. Paul looks at her with anger present in his eyes, Lucas wonders how anyone could hate this woman. But Paul does not hate her. He was an abused child, this is the only way he knows how to have a relationship, she knows that. Paul looks at Lucas. PAUL You're a fingerlicker, aren't you? Lucas looks at Christine for some sort of explanation. CHRISTINE Paul likes to create his own sayings, he has some pretty interesting ones. In his language that was asking if you're a bulimic. LUCAS (to Paul) Both, I guess. PAUL How long? LUCAS Five months. PAUL How much do you weigh? LUCAS (matter-of-factly) Ninety-three. How about you? Paul leaves. LUCAS What'd I do wrong? CHRISTINE Paul went down to nearly seventy-seven pounds two years ago and he's been shaky ever since. He had a bad relapse three months ago and he got down to eighty-four. Right now he's barely keeping ninety-five and six-foot. He's in a lot of trouble. LUCAS Why did he do it? CHRISTINE He was neglected and sexually abused when he was a child. When he hit puberty he started gaining weight, _fast_. He turned to food for comfort. When he was finally taken away from his parents he started out in a private high school. He was constantly made fun of for his weight, even his teachers. LUCAS That's awful. CHRISTINE Think about how it was for him. Lucas nods softly. CHRISTINE One day he finally decided not to take it anymore and he just... stopped eating. Just like that. LUCAS (realizing) God. CHRISTINE It's why he's so hard on people all the time, no one has been able to get through to him. Maybe you'll be able to. He's really just as scared and lonely as you are. Lucas nods softly. CHRISTINE Now let's get back to these questions, huh? Lucas nods again, looking down towards the floor. Christine puts down her clipboard, goes over, and sits beside him. CHRISTINE Do you wanna talk, Lucas? He looks at her with those blue, liquid eyes and she knows he has so much to say, but he is just too terrified to say. CHRISTINE I've been where you are, Lucas, I know what it's like. LUCAS (sadly) I don't think you do. CHRISTINE (to prove it to him that she _does_ know) When was the first time you binged? He looks at her. He nods softly as he surrenders. LUCAS I was hungry late one night, I hadn't had a meal in weeks, I couldn't sleep. I went down to the Galley and had a little something. That little something ended up being a week's supply of Ho-Ho's and an entire bag of chips and salsa. I went back to my room and still I couldn't _sleep_ my stomach hurt so bad. I went into the head and took my finger and.... I have _never_ felt relief like that. I had _power_. I could control something no one else could. I could do something special. Miguel kept asking if I was okay. It got me attention. CHRISTINE Not good attention. LUCAS I don't care _what_ kind of attention it was, people paid attention to me. CHRISTINE That's all you ever wanted. (he nods softly) That's all any human being wants. Try to get some sleep, then you come to me and we'll talk, okay? He looks at her for attention and love. She wraps her arms around him in a warm embrace. He trembles in fear. His shoulders shake violently for a moment, then he simply breaks, sobbing for the lonely nights hunched over the toilet, the days he could've happily spent with his friends in arguments over pasta and chicken. All this time wasted trying to make himself happy, when in actuality all he was doing was taking his happiness away. Christine gently holds the frightened boy in her arms, stroking his hair and comforting him. Later. Lucas is in his bed with his face buried in his pillow, asleep. PAUL WAKE UP!!! Lucas wakes in terror, looking around for the person who screamed so rudely in his ear. Paul is in the room, leafing through a book. LUCAS (extremely upset, barely able to control his anger) I am an extremely light sleeper, next time you want to wake me up for _whatever_ reason, just say my name and I'm up. All right?! PAUL I'm not gonna let you get away with something I couldn't get away with. LUCAS Like what, for example? PAUL I'm not gonna let you say (like a child, mocking Lucas) "Oh, I'll get up, I promise" so I say (like an airhead, indicating Lucas must be of lower intelligence to think this would happen) "Oh, okay, Lucas, you'll get up and surrender what you have worked five months for, how silly of me". (back to his bitter self) You think I'm that stupid? Please. If I didn't get away with it, I'm sure not gonna let you. LUCAS Contrary to what you may believe, I'm not here to make your life hell, I'm here for myself. To get better. PAUL You'll make my life hell anyway. LUCAS (softly, sad that Paul thinks so little of him) How do you know? PAUL Call it intuition. Lucas looks at him, he's angry and he doesn't want to deal with this sort of crap from a guy who doesn't even know him. LUCAS Not everyone is here to hurt you. PAUL Who are you to say who will or will not hurt me? LUCAS I been there. PAUL (angrily, trying to make Lucas feel as low as possible) Oh, so you're this big _expert_ on humiliation all of a sudden? You _know_ what it's _like_ to have every shred of human dignity ripped away _piece_ by _piece_? Lucas is at a loss for words. This young man, this "Paul", is impossible to get through to. Lucas gets a sudden realization--this was him mere _days_ ago. Now he's made the connection, these people had it happen to them. Paul, man, he's just not getting it. Lucas knows how to help him, but he can't do it. He's afraid. He knows how much it would mean to him if he reached out, but what if this man's mind doesn't work the same way his does? Lucas sighs. LUCAS ("I'm not putting up with this") I can't deal with you right now. He stands to leave. Paul rushes forward, grabs Lucas' shirt and hits him back against a wall. Lucas yelps in fear for his own life. Paul's face is close to Lucas', his breath is blowing Lucas' hair. PAUL Everyone I have ever known has said that to me. (softly, mimicking his own mother) "Oh, Paul's fine, it's nothing to worry about." "But I think something's really wrong with your son." "Nothing's wrong, he's fine, really, it'll pass. Thank you for your concern, bye." (back to his angry, cynical self) Click. I will not allow anyone else to ignore me. I _hurt_. I feel _pain_. He releases Lucas and talks softly. PAUL (looking down) That's all I ever feel anymore. Lucas see how _much_ he wants to talk and it kills him. LUCAS Talk to me. PAUL Yeah, right. Would you talk to me? You'd never understand my problems. LUCAS I'm not as stupid as I look. Just try me. PAUL Forget it, Lucas. (shaking his head) C'mon. Kitchen, just like any average person's kitchen. A hearty meal is being prepared of high nutrition but little bulk, they're eating more than they realize. Lucas walks in with Paul, who simply takes a pile of plates and leaves. Christine turns away from the stove to face an unsure and leery Lucas. CHRISTINE So, are you going to eat with us? He looks at her, completely bewildered as to how to answer. No. CHRISTINE It's not as scary as it sounds, Lucas. She pats a stool beside a counter. Following her lead, Lucas sits. CHRISTINE Did you talk to Paul? LUCAS I tried, but he wouldn't. CHRISTINE Start out with _your_ story. Once he hears that you're _not_ making this up, he'll open up. I know he will, that's the only way to get through to him. LUCAS You talked to him? CHRISTINE Mmm-Hmm. You can't blame him, Lucas, he just doesn't want anybody to hear him and misunderstand. (beat. explaining) If you've been _through_ it, then you're bound to have some sort of understanding. Besides, he's gonna hear it anyway, what have you got to lose by telling him when he wants to hear it? LUCAS (thoughtful) What do you mean, "he's gonna hear it anyway"? CHRISTINE In therapy. You two have two therapy sessions a day together. It's your choice whether you want an extra one by yourself. LUCAS But he hates me. CHRISTINE (reassuringly) No, he doesn't, Lucas, he's just nervous. LUCAS (sarcastically, "That seems pretty hard to believe") Seems more brutal than nervous. Christine smiles and ruffles Lucas' hair, ever-so-gently. CHRISTINE C'mon kiddo, dinner's ready LUCAS I can't. _I_'m not ready. CHRISTINE I _know_ it's a scary idea, but you only have to eat a _little_bit_. LUCAS I can't eat that much. CHRISTINE You don't even know how much that is. LUCAS Exactly. His eyes are filled with fear. She sighs and nods softly. She walks to the cabinets, pulls out a key card, and opens up a cabinet. Inside are medications, mostly prescriptions for the mentally unstable or depressed patients (including Paul), but also some others. She takes out a hypo and takes it to Lucas. She presses the warm object against his neck and gives him a dose of the red liquid. He takes it without fear, knowing that, whatever this is, it's for his own benefit. CHRISTINE A sedative and some medication to keep you from getting sick. I _know_ the bulimia is no longer your choice. He nods softly. LUCAS What's the sedative for? (sarcastic) You're gonna knock me out and _then_ make me eat? CHRISTINE (not scolding him, simply gently warning him.) Lucas, it's not funny to joke around like that. People have actually come in here thinking that was honestly what I was going to do. No, Lucas, this is an extremely _mild_ sedative, the most it'll do will keep you from having a panic attack. It'll just relax you a little so you can think a little more rationally without your emotions butting in. LUCAS (disbelieving) A panic attack? Over _food_? CHRISTINE Don't tell me it's never happened. He looks at her, feeling stupid and ashamed. CHRISTINE Don't beat yourself up, we've _all_ done it. LUCAS Even Paul? CHRISTINE Hardly a day goes by. (stroking Lucas' hair, knowing how desperately he needs to be touched, how comforting a woman's hand can feel on his cheek) Okay? He nods softly. She gently urges him down and walks with him into the dining room. Fifteen minutes later, thirteen slender people are having an extremely quiet dinner around a large oval table. Lucas is there, quietly pushing his food around on his plate, depressed, self conscious. Paul is sitting not far from him, eyeing him angrily. CHRISTINE (firmly) Paul, leave him alone. (beat, with love) Lucas, just try. He looks at her. He can't. She reaches out and gently places her hand on his. He is absolutely terrified of doing this. She knows it, and he hasn't learned anything about the disease attacking him, not only that but this is a new place. Worse, his surroundings are new and frightening, she can't blame him for being frightened. CHRISTINE Just stay here until everyone else is done. Eat as much as you're comfortable with. PAUL (under his breath) We all know how much that's gonna be. (to Christine) How come you never let me get away with that? CHRISTINE Because I can see how frightened he is, there are days when I think you don't eat just to spite everyone. PAUL ("everyone is against me", adopting Lucas' attitude of "no one cares") And that's what it all boils down to, isn't it? Paul's not really sick at all, it's all in his head, what he's feeling isn't real, ignore him and it'll go away. Him just shoving some food down his throat will make it better, it'll stop the pain he feels in his _heart_. Paul throws down his napkin in disgust and leaves, near tears. The girls are all highly upset. Lucas lowers his head in shame. LUCAS (quietly) I'm sorry. CHRISTINE No, Lucas, do you realize what you've done? (He looks at her, he doesn't.) You let him see the bigger picture. It's _not_ about the food, it's about _him_ and _his_ problems. You just being here is really helping him. LUCAS Should I go talk to him? CHRISTINE Later. Just let him cry about it for now. Lucas nods softly, thinking. He pushes at his long hair and looks at the different races, ages, and situations these girls come from. The diversity. Despite all this, he has to wonder, "Why me?". This leads him to wonder, what if it had been someone else, someone who didn't have someone to love them, take notice that something was really wrong. He realizes that the higher power knew what He was talking about when He did this to him. This _had_ a reason. While it may not be good for him, it saved another's life. He has accepted it, now can he find the strength to fix it? Later, Lucas and Paul's shared room. Paul is lying on his bed, resting. Lucas opens the door and comes in, watching Paul for movement. LUCAS You okay? PAUL Knock first. LUCAS It's my room, too. PAUL Respect my right to live, _always_ knock first. LUCAS All right. (beat. bolder) Look, Paul, can we talk? PAUL Talk. LUCAS (a la Westphalen in "An Ocean on Fire") To your face. Paul rolls over onto his back, propping himself up on his pillows. PAUL Shoot. LUCAS I consider myself a pretty good judge of character... (Sandra pops into his mind) ...sometimes, especially when I see someone who is just like me. PAUL (bitterly) We're nothing alike. LUCAS How do you know, you haven't said two civil words to me since I got here. PAUL You want to "talk". "Share your feelings", I'm not into that. LUCAS Are you sure about that? I don't want to get deep inside your mind, I'm not a shrink, I just wanna hear about how you ended up here. PAUL (making a deal) If you tell me. LUCAS (dead serious, surprising Paul) Should I go first or you? PAUL Be my guest. Lucas nods and softly sighs. Him, getting dressed in his shared quarters with Tony, Tony watching him. TONY (grinning, just kidding around) Damn, Lucas, packing on a few pounds, are you? Might wanna consider a diet 'fore you have to go and buy bigger clothes. Lucas looks at Tony, not sure exactly what he's saying. Next thing we know, Lucas is an Ensign and all alone in his room all the time with nothing to do but, in his mind, think about his weight and play the game, "How little can I eat today?" as a test. To see how good an officer he can be. After all, it's all about how little you let things get to you, if he can ignore the pain and constant cramps in his belly, he can endure anything, right? Then, Lucas' first true display of his control and power, the utter feeling of being able to do what no one else can. A part of him untainted by the Captain's orders and everyone's expectations and all the stress and chaos that _is_ _seaQuest_. The highlight of his hard day is having his full dinner and then using his slender fingers to get rid of it, along with all his pain. Then comes something odd, a picture seeming out of time with all these others. Lucas, as the blonde-haired, blue-eyed bundle of love and affection he was at age six or seven. His parents are fighting in the next room, he sits curled up into a terrified ball, crying into his tight little fists. He's suddenly pulled out of his protective bubble by a strong male hand, lifted onto his feet, for doing nothing at all but what is normal and expected of a child. He has done nothing wrong, but his father doesn't care. There's no sound other than Lucas' crying and the sharp stinging slap as his father's hand makes contact with his tear-streaked cheek. Lucas howls in pain, but his reaction only is an invitation for more and more and more pain. Lucas looks up at Paul, tears moist in his eyes, his heart bursting with the freedom given by the emptiness, but throbbing with pain from the memories he believes will always be painful open wounds. Paul is watching him with something approaching respect. PAUL Is that the only time he hit you? LUCAS (sarcastically) Was that the only time _your_ parents abused you? Paul nods softly. Lucas nods in an equally soft manner. LUCAS Tell me. Paul sighs. PAUL (letting his guard down. quietly) It was different for me. LUCAS Let me ascertain that for myself. Paul sighs and nods softly. PAUL My parents didn't care whether I lived or died. They were both alcoholics, both did drugs, everything. Lucas nods. PAUL (he's very bitter, but can you blame him?) Your game was "How little can I eat today?", my father's was, if we made this boy by havin' sex, what else is he good for? Go back to whence we came, isn't that the saying , Lucas? I was a little kid like you, I didn't want to piss him off, he was my dad and I figured if I let him get away with it this time, he'll have what he wants and he won't hurt me. My sister wouldn't let him at her; he used to beat her terribly. She ran away from home when I was thirteen, I haven't heard from her since, she's dead for all I know. When my father wasn't raping me he was doing my mother, making more kids to hurt, or out drinking someplace. He didn't work. My mom had me and my sisters to take care of, she was always pregnant, of course she couldn't hold down a job like that. LUCAS (gently) Why didn't she just leave him? PAUL The poor woman had no skills, she married the bastard when she was fourteen! (Lucas nods, realizing their horrible plight, the reason Paul is this way.) Either way, it was pretty much all like that until I was fourteen myself and heading toward high school. I was there for my mandatory physical when my doctor realized the pure hell my body had been through. My dad had whores twice a day, then me, I wasn't exactly the healthiest thing you've ever seen. He called social services and got me an' the rest of us the hell out of there, put me in foster care as they figured I was the oldest and it'd be less traumatic for me to leave Mom. LUCAS (sympathizing with him) Yeah, right. PAUL Exactly. Well, they put me in what was honestly a pretty nice home, people were good, I still write from time to time, they're paying my freight through here. They took care of me, all I really wanted was somebody to give me a little bit of attention, a warm bed, and the food I needed. LUCAS (lost in thought, almost to himself) You put love above all else. I do that, too. PAUL After what I was put through, that's all I wanted out of life, that's all I'll ever want. That, and a chance to live. I woulda never thought I'd end up here, an anorexic. I used to eat _everything_. I was in a new private high school with all these perfect people with their sports and their dances and all I did was stay at home in the arms of a woman I hardly knew, cry, eat, and go to countless doctors while they tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. LUCAS What _was_ wrong with you? PAUL Severe clinical depression, compulsive eater. Lucas nods softly, mulling it over. PAUL (painfully, but not letting his emotions get in the way) Well, then I decided I wasn't gonna deal with everybody making fun of me all the time, _I_ was gonna make a life for myself. Stopped eating, stopped going to the doctor, stayed even closer to my adopted mom, she adopted me by now, I wouldn't let the woman out of my sight. She knew something was wrong but wouldn't admit she had picked a defective boy as her son. So she kept denying it until I fell unconscious at a basketball game _while sitting in the bleachers_. I wasn't even playing, it was just hot. I weighed seventy-seven pounds and I was five-foot-two. That's just not a good thing. Lucas nods. LUCAS Christine told me pretty much everything else. Paul nods. LUCAS (lightly) What kind of music do you like? Paul gives him a puzzled look. Lucas shrugs, "Go with it.". The following day. A quiet, large room. Christine, Lucas, and Paul are there. Paul is speaking quietly with Christine while Lucas sits on the couch, off in his own little world, thinking for himself. CHRISTINE Lucas? He glances up at her, looking somewhat teary-eyed. CHRISTINE How do _you_ feel about love? LUCAS What? CHRISTINE We're trying to have a conversation, Lucas, therapy tends to work better if you listen, maybe try to participate some. I asked you how you feel about love. He thinks a moment, looking down at his slender, callused fingers. LUCAS I think about it all the time. I wonder what it would be like. I think maybe if I was a better person, maybe someone would love me. CHRISTINE What makes you think people wouldn't love you the way you are now? LUCAS I'm stupid. I don't know how to act around people. PAUL (frustrated by Lucas' low self-esteem) Dude, you're gorgeous, and what do you mean, you're stupid, you graduated college when you were fifteen! CHRISTINE Paul, I think what Lucas means is when he's around other people, he _feels_ stupid. When he was young, he was at school and doing homework when other kids were playing. He never learned how to interact with his peers. So, even now that he's older, he's unsure how to handle himself. That's why he has such low self-esteem. Because he's never had any positive experiences with others. That's why he's bulimic now. Because he's lonely. And he figures _any_ change would be a positive one. Am I right, Lucas? He nods softly. CHRISTINE Lucas, that's what everyone here goes through, in some way or another. LUCAS But these girls are so pretty. CHRISTINE You think being a girl is easy? We can be brainwashed into thinking we're fat in a matter of _days_. There is a _lot_ of competition between the popular girls and the unpopular ones. So the ones who aren't being hounded by all the boys are always left thinking something is physically wrong with them, so they're not being noticed. So they try to fix that. _Or_, the popular girls think they have to keep up their reputation of being skinny. LUCAS Can't you tell them it doesn't really matter if they're skinny or not? As long as they care about us, that's all that matters. CHRISTINE I wish every boy on this planet thought the same way you do, Lucas. LUCAS But... what about Paul? You don't think it matters, right? PAUL (softly, letting down his guard) You and I are the minority, Lucas. Not everyone is looking for the deep emotional commitment we are. You and I... we just want to be held and comforted by someone we can count on to always be there. I _know_ for a fact that there are guys out there who only want a girl they can impress their friends with. That's not important to us because we don't _have_ any friends. LUCAS I don't understand. How could somebody _do_ that? CHRISTINE It's society, Lucas. It's the reason the overweight are made fun of and the impossibly skinny are worshipped. Everyone wants to be beautiful. Lucas sighs and thinks. LUCAS You were right. I _am_ beautiful. Because I'm not like those people. Christine smiles warmly at him. CHRISTINE (congratulating him) You know what, Lucas? (He looks at her.) The struggle's halfway over. Lucas looks over at his new friend Paul and sees him smiling weakly at him, genuinely happy for Lucas, but insanely jealous that Lucas can do so easily what he has been unable to. Six Weeks later. Lucas is sitting alone in the same room, staring at the walls within which he laughed, cried, and, ultimately, came to understand his severe problems. He looks up as there's a creak in the floor and Paul and Christine enter. Paul looks almost as good as Lucas does, content, healthy, finally some meat on his bones. It was ultimately the understanding and acceptance that they are not alone that finally got them better. Lucas smiles at Paul, who smiles timidly back. CHRISTINE You ready to go, Lucas? He sighs. LUCAS I guess. I hope so. CHRISTINE You're gonna do fine. Just remember to call if you feel yourself slipping. I'll be here whenever you need me. He nods softly, he'll try. Paul steps foreward and hands Lucas two new Thought Journals, empty. Lucas gratefully takes them, nodding, he knows what these are for. CHRISTINE _Everything_, Lucas. No matter how small an idea it seems, write it down. Whenever you feel tempted and every night. If you feel yourself getting tempted repeatedly, get _off_ _seaQuest_. Go out, see a movie, _get away_. He nods, submissive. He will. Christine steps foreward and hugs Lucas, he lets himself be held. She steps back and looks him up and down. CHRISTINE (smiling) You are absolutely _gorgeous_. He blushes and looks at Paul, who grins at Lucas' discomfort. PAUL I'll see you in a couple weeks. We'll go out someplace, have a little fun. LUCAS Definitely. Thanks, man. PAUL You're _thanking_ me? I made your life a living hell. LUCAS No, that stopped the day I had my first meal. If you hadn't been there I woulda _never_ admitted it. PAUL You did the same for me. Thank _you_, bro. Lucas shakes his head modestly. PAUL Go home. He hugs his friend, Lucas smiles at him. Outside. Lucas exits the large house and heads down the walk to his awaiting UEO Hummer. His friends are immediately bombarding him with compliments on how good he looks and how happy he seems. He downplays the attention as he throws his bag in the back and gets in. He sits with the new empty journals on his lap, and looks back at the house. The Hummer drives off. The End. ========================================================================== Copyright Kathleen Brown February 1997