FIC - There's A Calm Surrender (3/5) -- Nuke BigBang 2012
Title: There's a Calm Surrender
Author: carolinablu85
Artist: frances_veritas ( HERE OMG)
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Warnings: Characters deaths, Deviation from canon (story starts with canon from summer 2009), Angst, Multiple Flashbacks
Summary: When his dad is killed and he thinks it’s his fault, Luke runs away from his home and his family- and Noah. Years later, he reappears in a very changed Oakdale to right the wrongs he left behind.
HUGE EXTRA A/N HERE, PLEASE READ: There is a flashback to a car accident and character death in this chapter. I've marked the flashback itself with extra ----- so if you don't want to read that particular bit, you don't have to. Please take heed.
PROLOGUE | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | EPILOGUE
He ditched the tie the second he was in the car. It really was strangling him. Or at least felt like it was, ever since Luke left.
He almost shuddered. ‘Left’ had a different meaning now. ‘Left’ just meant left for the night or for a few hours. It wasn’t permanent. It wasn’t forever. When Luke ‘left’ now, he would come back. Noah was embarrassed at how often he had to remind himself of that. Or how often he called Casey or Ali in the last couple days just to chat, listening for any sound of Luke in the background. Just to make sure he was still there. That he hadn’t left again.
Noah stopped himself from more stupid thoughts. He was dwelling in the past again. Damian might be a... Damian, but he was still right about that. Noah had to grow up sometime. He had to move on, or get left behind.
He got to the school complex right on time. Faith and Natalie would be wrapping up their tutoring and dance classes any minute, Ethan’s after school group would finish up ten minutes after that. They’d all perfected this- Noah picked them up on Mondays and Tuesdays, Lily the rest of the week. That way the kids were always taken care of.
Faith was already waiting when he pulled up, re-shouldering her messenger bag. (It was his old one from college; she thought it was cooler than a backpack. No one had ever thought Noah was cool before.) She flopped into the front seat with a sigh. He didn’t ask. He knew better.
Natalie bounded in a minute later. “Hi Noah! Did you have a good day at work? Did you have fun? What-”
“What’s she doing here?” Faith interrupted.
For a second, Noah thought she was talking about Nat. But, no, Faith was pointing to the side, just as Lily’s car pulled up and parked next to them. Noah hopefully kept his reaction to a minimum. He wanted to echo Faith. What was Lily doing there?
“It’s Tuesday,” Natalie piped up from the backseat, just as confused.
Noah made eye contact with Lily the second she stepped out of her car. He was sadly proud- he’d stopped flinching at her looks awhile ago. But her eyes weren’t accusatory or cold today. Not even distant. Just... strained. Tired.
Emboldened, he got out of his car, facing her. Natalie, curious as ever, slid out of the backseat to stand next to him. Faith (of course) stayed in the car. “Hi, Lily.”
“Noah,” she said it quietly. He still remembered a time when she would greet him warmly, a hug, a kiss to his cheek, calling him sweetheart or something. He really needed to stop remembering.
He crossed his arms protectively. “It’s Tuesday,” he echoed Nat’s perfectly logical argument.
Lily blinked, thrown for a second. “Oh. It is, isn’t it?” She pushed her hair back from her face, frazzled. “It’s been... a long few days, I must have lost track of what day it is.”
“It’s not that hard,” Faith commented through the open window, still facing forward. “It’s the second day in the week that you’re supposed to go to work but do nothing instead.”
“Faith,” Lily and Noah both reprimanded her wearily at the same time. It was Lily who flinched at that before continuing resolutely. “We’re having a family dinner at the house tonight, I just thought I’d drive them straight there.”
A family dinner that Luke was probably going to, and Noah wasn’t. “I can drive them there and drop them off. I’m capable.” Was it wrong that he didn’t really care that he was baiting her? It had been a long few days for him too.
“It’ll be easier if I do,” she maintained, voice growing stronger with each word. “Natalie, Faith, let’s go.”
Natalie looked hesitant, but got into Lily’s car when Noah nodded at her. It was fine, really. Probably meant he’d get more work done tonight. That was good, right?
Faith didn’t think so. She got out of the car, but only to glare at her mother. (She’d hate to know it was a glare she’d definitely inherited from Lily.) “No. It’s Tuesday. We have a schedule. You can’t just-”
“Yes, I can. I’m your mother.”
“Not on Mondays and Tuesday,” Faith snapped. She crossed her arms too, so Noah hurriedly dropped his, turning towards her.
“Faith,” he said it calmly, but with a little pleading. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.
She glared at him defiantly, desperately, more than a little stressed herself, when a yell of “Mama?” could be heard across the parking lot. Noah couldn’t help but smile a little. It was weird, sure. But hearing Ethan call Lily the same term Holden had used for Emma- it was one reminder that didn’t make Noah all that sad.
The smile vanished (or at least went pretty fake) at the confused look on Ethan’s face as he looked back and forth between Lily and Noah. Noah tried not to take it personally when Ethan ran up to Lily and hugged her. “Why are you here on Tuesday?”
It would’ve been funny under any other circumstances. “Tonight’s special,” Lily softened and crouched down next to Ethan. “We’re going to have dinner at home, at the house, okay? So I came to pick you up.”
And Noah also tried not to take it personally when Ethan’s face lit up and he jumped into Lily’s car without another thought. Not wanting to see Lily’s reaction to it, he focused instead on Faith again. “No,” she argued before he could say anything.
“Go on,” he murmured. She shook her head, so obstinate, and so Luke. Suddenly he really needed her to go. If he was going to have a panic attack or something in his car, he didn’t want her to see it. “Faith,” he said it again. “I’d be driving you there now anyway. It’s an extra fifteen minutes with her. Please.”
She glared at him now, betrayed. But instead of arguing, she grabbed the messenger bag out of the front seat and marched to Lily’s car without looking at either of them. After saying something quietly to Natalie, she got into the backseat with a slam of the door, letting Nat crawl up into the front. To sit next to Lily.
If Noah wasn’t so tired, he’d admire her commitment to the grudge.
Instead he smiled again at Ethan’s wave through the window, waving back as Faith helped him buckle his seatbelt. Then he realized Lily was still standing facing him, and he lowered his arm, waiting.
“Luke hasn’t mentioned you two, well, you know,” she played with the keys in her hand.
The jingling noise grated on his ears. “Know what?” Wow, he really was baiting today. But it wasn’t like he really had anything to lose, was it?
“Are you two even talking right now?” she asked softly.
He couldn’t tell whether she was asking hopefully or suspiciously. So he played it close to the vest, distant. Careful. “We talked today. He’s going to work at Grimaldi, I guess.”
“He is?” The jingling stopped. Lily’s eyes were wide, the rest of her face guarded. Noah’s eyes narrowed at that. Lily didn’t seem that excited about the news. Did she not want Luke working for Damian?
Did she feel the same way Noah did? Did she know the same things Noah did?
She was still looking at him strangely. “Are you two going to get back to-”
“You’re going to be late for dinner,” he pointed out, turning his back, opening his door.
There was silence behind him for a second, and then the sounds of Lily getting into her car. No more words between them, like usual. He sat there, watching out of the windshield until they were gone. And his stupid, stupid brain had so many thoughts tumbling through it, but the one he kept circling around-
Now that Luke was back, was he going to be on the outside again? Was there a place for him in the family anymore?
***
“This is already my favorite meeting of the day,” Emily Stewart announced the second she opened the door and ushered Luke into her apartment.
“Huh?” he glanced around at the two computers in the room, the bulletin boards covered in notes and circled news clippings. It was the living room of a crazy person.
“It’s not very often I get to interview a dead guy,” she explained, settling herself down on her couch, shoving aside a few file folders so Luke had room to sit too.
He did, gingerly. “This isn’t an interview.”
“Not yet. But it will be.”
“And I’m not a dead guy,” he also had to say.
“Not anymore,” she fired back. “But we’ll get to that later. Why is it you wanted to talk to me? Alison said it was important.”
“The accident that killed my dad. And almost killed me.” Luke fidgeted. “Alison said you looked into it when it first happened.”
“I tried to,” she glared at nothing. “But I ran into roadblocks at every turn. Wasn’t long before The Intruder was out of business anyway, and your grandmother up and left the country with old John Dixon, and Worldwide was bought up, and the new mayor took over, and your Darth Vader of a father-”
“You think it was all related?” he asked, studying her living room again. So, maybe not a crazy person. Maybe a freelance investigative journalist whatever. Luke barely, barely remembered a time when he’d wanted to do the same as this.
Look where it got both of them.
“Maybe. So no interview yet. You want me to, what, hand over my notes on the crash?” Her tone nearly dripped with skepticism.
“Not necessarily. I want to hire you.” Luke laid his palms flat on his lap, maintaining an air of business or power or something. Anything but nerves.
“To what?” she asked, eyebrow raising.
“Reinvestigate. I need to know what happened,” he spoke firmly. “I’ve been trying for over a week by myself, no luck.” He’d spent all his time in his new apartment doing nothing but going over those files Ali helped him steal. No luck. It was like gibberish to him. “My trust fund’s been untouched for three years. I’m pretty sure there’s enough in there to get you past some of those roadblocks.”
Emily blinked at him, thrown. A tiny part of Luke was proud of that. “Oh. Okay then. Well, I guess it beats the jobs I’m on now. All right.” She picked up a few folders she’d had sitting in front of them and moved to set them aside.
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “What are those?”
She smiled a little grimly. “Those are the reports I thought you were coming over here for. My mistake to assume. I’ll get rid of them.”
“Reports on what?” he asked automatically. His curiosity, as always, peaked immediately.
She brought the plain manilla folders back into her lap. “These,” she began, her voice not quite purposefully dramatic but pretty close, “are the police, medical, and legal documents pertaining to the last three years of your boyfriend’s life.”
“Noah?” he asked numbly, his focus on the reports.
“There’s not much, Grimaldi managed to keep a lot of it off the record. And I’m sure my sister and Casey have told you a lot, but...” she tapped the top file with a perfectly manicured nail. “I don’t know, I thought that’s why you were here.”
Luke didn’t know if he should feel guilty about that or not. He did, a little bit. He wasn’t sure what for- digging yet again into Noah’s life or not making Noah his priority?- but he definitely recognized guilt as one of the things flying around.
“What do you want for them?” he asked, in control.
“An interview when all of this is over, unrestricted,” she said quickly. “If this plays out the way I think- the way you hope- I’m going to be the one to write it up.” She held out her hand. “Deal?”
Luke eyed her hand, the folders, her hand again. And shook. “Deal.”
Noah’s files were placed in his hand.
***
It was hours later that he thought to come here, to this. Luke sat gingerly on the ground, cross legged, feeling younger than he’d felt in years. Like a little kid again.
He wasn’t.
He cleared his very dry throat. The headstone was nice and simple, well-kept. Something his dad would like. (Not like, of course. Nobody was going to like having a headstone.)
He just sat, staring for awhile. There was no thudding of his heart, in his ears or chest or anywhere. Like his body was empty. No heart.
Empty.
“I can’t believe you did this to me,” he whispered after a few more minutes. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, now. You were supposed to... You said you’d always be there for me. But you’re not. You’re-” he cut himself off. “You were supposed to be my dad forever.”
There was no answer, of course. It pissed Luke off a little bit. Was it his job now, to be there for the family like Holden had been? There was no way Luke was good enough for that. He could barely manage his own life. How was he supposed to do any of this without knowing how his Dad felt about it? Or felt about him? If he approved, if he disapproved, if he wanted Luke to-
He’d never be a grandfather. Luke couldn’t really deal with that either. Holden would have been the best grandfather ever. He was supposed to be. And he was supposed to be there for when Ethan needed him, to teach him that it was okay to be whoever he wanted. Ethan was never going to hear that ‘I’ll love you no matter what’ that dads always said. Who was going to do that for him now?
Luke unzipped and rezipped his jacket a few times. The headstone next to Holden’s grave was a plot that had recently been taped off to be re-dug. His grave. How fucking creepy was that? Luke didn’t study it too hard. The gravestone had been removed yesterday, Damian had told him. One of the weirder conversations he’d had in his life, for sure.
He wanted so so much to be angry at him, them, everyone. He wished he could be. But it was just himself. He was here. Holden wasn’t. And Luke wanted to hate him so much for that, what was wrong with him?
Why was he still here?
“Hey.”
He jumped, not at all cool or composed, when a voice spoke up quietly from behind him. He didn’t turn, knowing who it was. Of course. “Hi.”
Noah’s steps sounded really unsure, even from here, so he was a little surprised when they came closer, and Noah sat down next to him. Not very close, definitely not touching, but there. Beside him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly, not unkindly. Thank God he hadn’t been crying.
Noah shrugged. “I don’t know. You?”
“I hadn’t- this is the first time I’ve...” he gestured to his own not-grave. “Damian said that they were taking me- this down. I realized I haven’t been here, seen him.”
Noah nodded, was quiet for a few minutes. “Does it help?”
His instinct was to shake his head. “I’ll let you know.” Another bout of silence. If this was a different universe, Luke would be picking up Noah’s hand, playing with his fingers, leaning into his shoulder, maybe-
He cut himself off. He’d been staring at Noah’s hands again. No. Bad Luke. He’d been so good at work; they barely saw each other there anyway, it wasn’t like he had an opportunity to do, well, anything. It wasn’t like he really wanted to, either. He wasn’t Luke of Luke-and-Noah anymore, was he?
“Did it help you?” he asked, purposefully dragging himself back into the conversation. “Coming here?”
Noah nodded, to his surprise. “I, um, I’d come here to talk. To both of you.” He lowered his voice, trying to keep it light, “First time you never interrupted me.”
Luke tried to laugh for his sake. It almost worked. “How was work today?”
He almost laughed again at the skeptical look Noah gave him this time. “Are you- it was fine. You?”
Luke shrugged this time. He pulled up a few clumps of grass, dropped them again. “Still trying to figure it all out.”
“You’ve only been there like a week or two,” Noah offered. “It takes getting used to.”
“You’re good at it,” Luke said. He was a little sad about that. “Everyone says so. You’re like the go-to guy in your department.” He still wasn’t exactly sure what each department was yet, but he was sure he didn’t like that Noah was so good at his job. Sure, it was Noah, he always worked hard at everything, but still. It wasn’t right. He was supposed to be making movies.
Luke thought of those files that Emily had given him. He still hadn’t read them. He couldn’t yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted all this to get even worse. Judging by the strained look Noah was trying not to show, maybe he really really didn’t want it to get worse. Noah’s face, shadowed and sad, set off a flash of something in Luke’s mind.
“I was thinking about you,” Luke startled even himself with that. Unable to stop, “Right before the accident. Dad and I were talking about Damian, and I was thinking about you. Planning what we’d do when I got back from Kentucky.”
Noah was turned to face him now, eyes wide and concerned. So fucking blue. “Luke. Do you remember what happened?”
“I don’t know,” he said it helplessly. “I don’t know. We were in the truck. Dad said he didn’t trust Damian. We hit... like a pothole, or something? The truck swerved. Dad couldn’t hit the brakes. We- we went over the side.”
“Luke...” Suddenly Noah’s hand was there, like it would be in that other universe, holding tight. Warm.
Too bad Luke could barely feel it. He was freezing now, and everything was coming out of his brain too quickly. “We must’ve flipped, or something, and my seat belt came loose. I was laying on the roof, Dad was still buckled in.”
----------------------------------------(SEE A/N ABOVE)------------------------------------
“I can’t... I can’t get it undone,” Luke is panting, coughing, shaking. He pulls at his dad’s seat belt, but nothing happens. There’s smoke everywhere, metal that barely looks like a truck anymore. He can’t focus on anything; with the truck upside down he can’t get his bearings. He feels sick.
“Luke,” somehow Holden is calm. Isn’t he always, ‘somehow’? “Can you get out of the truck?”
His window is smashed in a few places, completely gone in others. “Yeah. Yeah. I think so.”
“Okay. I need you to climb back up to the road, flag down a car. Get help.” And when he says it in that voice, Luke wants to obey without thinking.
Almost. “What? No-” He pulls at Holden’s seat belt again. “I can get this.” He stops to cough some more.
“Luke.” There’s blood running down Holden’s face. Not a lot, though, it’s okay. “You and I can’t by ourselves. And I’m not gonna get back up to the road anytime soon. I need you to.” There’s a groaning or cracking or sizzling sound around them, Luke can’t get his brain to slow down long enough to determine what it is.
“O-okay. Okay. The road.” He pauses at his messed up window. “You’re sure?”
“Go,” Holden nods as best he can, not even coughing. “I trust you. You got this.”
“Okay,” he stutters again. He climbs out of the window, feeling his shirt catch and rip a little at an errant shard of glass. (Noah’s going to kill him, it’s one of his favorite shirts on Luke.) He stumble-crawls to the embankment, the incline. He can’t tell how high up it is. Coughing some more, he starting running and climbing.
There’s another sharp popping noise behind him. He stops where he is, maybe halfway up. There’s a weird haze around the truck. He blinks. Fuck this. No. He’ll get Holden out. “Dad! Dad, I-”
“Luke, stop! Get back to the road,” he hears Holden’s voice from the truck. He’s still in there. Luke can still-
There’s another pop. Or crack. Or whatever it is. Luke realizes the haze isn’t just haze. It’s gas. Flames, maybe. “Dad-”
The truck explodes.
------------------------------------(OK!)-----------------------------------------------------------
He was gasping, collapsed forward. He should have been on the ground, it wasn’t like he was holding himself up. But he wasn’t on the ground. Two arms were wrapped around him, not constricting like a seat belt. Warm and safe. He was pulled back against a solid, wide chest.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Breathe. Luke, please. It’s okay. Breathe,” Noah murmured it over and over, holding him tight, Luke nearly in his lap.
“He knew. He knew,” he gasped out. “He knew the truck was going to... he was keeping me away.”
Noah’s hand was in his hair, gentle. “Luke, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He rubbed Luke’s back with his other hand, drawing him even closer.
“It’s not,” he choked. He hadn’t been crying before, he definitely was now. “Oh God, Noah. He knew. He made me leave him. I left him. It-”
“There’s nothing you could have done,” Noah soothed. “It’s not your fault, Luke.”
“I let him die, Noah. God,” he nearly cried out the words. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” who the hell was he even talking to anymore?
He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but he finally stopped crying, stopped talking. He was dimly aware of it all- Holden’s grave in front of him, Noah’s arms around him, his chin resting in Luke’s hair. When Noah whispered, “Let me take you home, okay?” He just nodded.
He didn’t realize until later that Noah meant his home.
***
“Here,” Noah somehow managed to both usher him in and gesture for him to take off his jacket at the same time. “Um, come on in.”
Luke shrugged out of his jacket, happy for the action, something to do. Anything to keep his brain away from focusing and obsessing on Noah. Who’d just had his arms around Luke again, even though it always felt like a first time, never an ‘again’ but an ‘oh my god this is amazing what is this feeling’ thing. But now they were back to that... space between them. Noah wasn’t just walled up away from him, he was shielded up and bunkered down and fortressed away.
And maybe he was too.
Okay. Obviously the action of taking off his jacket wasn’t enough to distract. Okay. He could find something else.
He settled for wandering around Noah’s living room, admiring and investigating in one breath. It was a beautiful apartment, and not at all Noah. Yeah, of course, Noah was beautiful, unbelievably so, but this wasn’t his style. Expansive and almost luxurious. It would be too extravagant, like that rental car Luke had first seen him in, if it weren’t for the obvious touches Noah had added to keep it from going overboard.
The quilt on the sofa was definitely hand-stitched by Emma. Instead of fancy artwork or (this pained Luke a little) movie posters on the walls, drawings from Ethan and probably the other kids were scattered across every flat surface. The TV set wasn’t flat screen or plasma or anything- Luke couldn’t even see a DVR or whatnot- but instead was simple and small. A simple DVD player sat nearby. It didn’t look like it got a lot of use, and the idea that Noah wasn’t watching movies every three hours made Luke more than a little nauseous.
He wandered a little more, reaching the far end of the living room. Glancing down the hallway, he saw the open door to Noah’s bedroom. Blushing and curious at the same time, he studied what he could see from his vantage point, trying not to attract Noah’s attention, busy in the kitchen. The bed was perfectly made, of course. But too perfect. The couch looked more messed up than-
Noah appeared in the living room, pulling Luke away from his spying. “Do you sleep on the couch?” he accused instinctively, that buried-but-not-forgotten worry for Noah Mayer’s well being popping up in his brain.
Noah, to his complete shock, didn’t even try to deflect. “Yeah. Sometimes. When I work late and don’t make it to bed.” He shrugged. “It’s a nice couch. Comfy.” He held out one of the mugs in his hands. “Here.”
Tea. Warm and smelling of honey and something else soothing. Of course. Luke managed a small smile looking down into the mug, wrapped his hands around it. “Thanks.”
Noah just shrugged, clasping his own mug, taking a seat on the comfy couch. He didn’t gesture for Luke to do the same, or tell him to make himself at home or... or anything, really. It threw Luke again, unsettled him. He wasn’t on enemy territory necessarily, but he was a stranger here.
After another moment of looking around, he sat on the other end of the couch, figuring (hoping) it was safe. Okay. He could do this. They sat in silence for awhile, sipping their tea, not looking at each other. Despite that, the awkward tension slowly slipped away until they were both leaning back against the couch, a few inches closer to touching than before.
“It wasn’t an accident,” he finally said. His voice felt scratchy again, like his meltdown in the cemetery had happened only a few minutes ago. “Dad and- and me. Something went wrong. Someone caused it.”
“You don’t know that,” Noah sounded just as rough.
“Not until I prove it, no.” Luke set aside his mug, turning to face Noah. “Help me. Please.”
Noah bit his lip, eyeing him worriedly. “Luke, I’ll help you come to terms with it. I’ll help you start to feel better about yourself and what happened. I’ll help you find a job or a new direction for your life or whatever you need. But I can’t help you start some quest that’s just going to hurt you in the end. Not again.”
“Not again?” he tried not to glare. What was Noah referring to? Reg? Zac and Zoe? “This isn’t the same. This is about my dad, Noah. He was killed. By a person. I need to find that person and make it right.”
“Make what right?” Noah didn’t back down. “It won’t change what happened. And it’s not gonna be the thing that gets you to forgive yourself, I know that.”
“How do you?” he challenged, getting closer, wanting to pushing him, jab him, get in his face, something. Anything.
“Because I know you.” Noah didn’t back down. “I know how you think, or how you don’t think. And I know how you act when you don’t think.”
“What am I not thinking about?” he bit out, his hand wanting to curl into a fist.
Noah was silent for just a second, his face looking... shocked, maybe? Like Luke was supposed to know this answer? Then he shook his head, leaning closer. “People. You don’t think about how people get affected by this. You just go on your crusades and if people get hurt along the way, if you get hurt, who cares. Right?”
Luke hadn’t seen Noah this fired up in a long time. “Because I want to do the right thing? I thought you were all about that, Noah. Above anything.” He hadn’t felt this fired up in a long time either.
Noah’s glare intensified. Searing. “Maybe we have different definitions of right.”
“So I’m never going to stop disappointing you, is that it? I’m never going to be perfect enough for you,” he pushed and pushed some more. He knew how to do this.
Unfortunately, Noah didn’t deflate or back down or slink away. His shoulders squared, eyes still burning forward. “You were,” he almost spat out the words. “But the Luke that was perfect enough for me isn’t here anymore. He’s in the past, right? That’s what you said. And you said you wanted me to let. Him. Go.”
Of course, Luke had no idea how it went from that to his arms wrapped tight around Noah’s neck, pulling his face down the few inches to his mouth, their bodies shoved together. Still pushing and pushing some more. They were kissing and arguing at the same time, just without words.
Grabbing at Noah, pulling him towards that pristine and perfectly made bed, it was like a dam breaking for Luke. But not really with a feeling of relief. It was more like standing in front of that dam right when it breaks, so the water roars and rushes and floods over you, overwhelming and painful. It was scary and he wasn’t entirely sure if the rush felt good or bad. But he went with it.
They made it to the bedroom still stumbling, some clothes already shed, some slipping away still, Noah’s belt only halfway out of the loops and dragging the weight of his jeans to the floor with it. Noah was mostly silent, just harsh inhales every time he tried to breathe around Luke’s mouth.
Luke pulled now, hard, demanding, wanting this to be everything he needed. He turned them, having them both fall to the bed together, pleased to note the belt and pants were on the floor now and not on Noah. He kicked his own free, landing hard on top, his hand slipping and scrambling along Noah’s hips, holding him there.
If he could keep Noah there, he could keep himself there.
“Do you-” he paused, latched onto the base of Noah’s throat for a moment to taste skin and sweat and to leave a bruise behind. “Do you have...?”
Noah grunted a little, pulling away so he could roll over onto his stomach, reaching over to his bedside table. Luke allowed the movement, only because it meant he could trace Noah’s spine with his fingers, sliding up and down, laying a sloppy kiss to the small of his back just as Noah handed him a condom, a small bottle of lube (half empty, but Luke wasn’t going to think about that).
He moved a hand to Noah’s hip again, pulling, turning him over onto his back again. Or, at least, he tried to. But Noah refused to move, staying on his stomach, reaching behind to bring Luke closer. Luke tried again, “Noah,” but Noah wouldn’t turn. “Noah, what-?” He tugged gently again, asking this time. “I want to see your face.”
“No.” Noah’s voice was quiet, but not really muffled. “No. Like this.”
“What?”
His face was turned away from Luke, nothing else moving. “I can’t that way. I don’t want to.”
Luke pulled away just a little, propping himself up on his elbows. “You don’t want to what?”
“Look at you.”
It hurt. A lot. Maybe more than a lot. “What?”
“I’m not gonna look at you while we do this. I don’t want it to be like... like before. I don’t want to remember how we used to be. Okay? So if we’re going to-”
He stood up pretty fast, standing next to the bed, staring down at Noah who was still not looking at him. “We’re not doing anything.” Not like this. “I’m not going to be like any other random guy who fucks you.”
Noah made that noise that was supposed to be a laugh. “Aren’t you?”
Yeah, that hurt even more. “That’s what you think of me.” It wasn’t a question.
Noah finally moved, rolling onto his back, looking up at Luke like he was running on empty and had nowhere else to go. “No. That’s what you think of me.”
He was quiet for a minute, then pulled his jeans back on, feeling somewhere between dirty and as empty as Noah. “We just, we can’t do this right now, can we? We can’t be together. We can’t be us.”
Noah sat up against the headboard, pulling his comforter up to his waist like a shield. Making no move to help Luke collect his clothes or feel better about any of this. No warm hand on his shoulder, no half-smile that butterflied his stomach, no sweet and fumbling words to mend it. Nothing. “We haven’t been us for a long time, Luke. That was your choice.”
He paused for a second, then pulled his hoodie back on, hoping it masked the shaking of his hands. “Oh.” He was fully dressed now, standing over the bed. “You haven’t forgiven me, have you?”
There it was, a tiny crack in Noah’s armor. He stuttered for a second, hands tightening around the comforter. He closed his eyes before looking up at Luke. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.” The look in his eyes was heartbreaking, confused. “I want you in my life, Luke. I do. But, but I don’t...”
He almost, almost stepped forward, wrapped his arms tight around those shoulders. He really, really loved those shoulders. He didn’t want to be rid of them either. “I know. We could...” he cleared his throat and tried again, already hating the feeling. “We could try being friends.” God, it felt like such an alien word.
Noah’s face seemed to fall too, but Luke couldn’t be sure. “Yeah. Um, yeah. We should. It’s for the best now, right?” Noah shrugged. “There’s just too much...” he trailed off, the words not coming, but Luke got it. He did. It was for the best. There was too much of everything.
He offered Noah one quick smile and backed out of the room, not even bothering with an excuse or a goodbye. Instead he tapped his hand along the doorframe a few times, maybe signaling his exit, or gathering his strength, or maybe giving Noah a few seconds to stop him, or maybe just double-checking that all this was real. And it really, really was. With that, he left.
***
“And then he left,” Noah passed his carton of lo mein over to Ali.
She accepted it unconsciously, her attention still focused on Noah. Casey was obviously clenching his jaw to keep from giving him an open-mouthed stare. His egg roll was untouched in front of him.
“But Noah,” Ali shook her head, her eyes a kind of Disney-princess-wide. “It- it’s you and- you two are-”
Casey briefly dropped his hand on top of her head. “Complete sentences, dear.” Then he glared at Noah. “But seriously, what the hell. This is what you have literally been dreaming about for three years. Why’d you send him packing?”
“Because it wasn’t right,” Noah glared right back, though with about half the heat. He was just tired. And hungry. He dug into his food, awkwardly maneuvering the chopsticks (he’d never gotten good at using them). “Because we’re not together, we’re not what we used to be, and to pretend that we are just for sex is... it’s wrong. I can’t keep getting myself hung up on the past.”
Casey almost slammed his beer down on the table at that, only a warning glance from Alison stopping the force of it. Instead he set the bottle down carefully, still grabbing Noah’s attention. “That’s Damian talking. Those are his words, and if you ever, ever repeat something like that again just because he told you, I swear to Zuul I will-”
“It’s not Damian,” Noah protested, stopping yet another Casey-Hughes-Ghostbusters-themed rant. “Not just Damian,” he amended. “Luke told me the same thing. That he let go of the past. That he doesn’t care about any of that or want any of that anymore.”
“He really said exactly that?” Ali half-screeched.
“He didn’t mean it!” Casey said at the same time.
Noah shook his head at both of them, using the time it took to sip his beer to delay talking anymore. For the twenty seconds it earned him. “He doesn’t want to go backwards. He doesn’t want anything that has to do with his past. He told me that.”
“Damian, or Luke?” Casey questioned. “Because seriously Noah, I love you, but you’re densely polite. Damian will say fucking anything to get his way, and you’ll let him. And he wants you under his thumb, and he wants to have you as some, like, secret weapon evil henchman that will just do his bidding and help him rule the world, and I won’t stand for it.”
Noah and Ali were both silent for a moment, recovering from his tirade. “You’re drunk,” Ali pronounced, smoothly turning back to Noah. “Seriously, honey, when have either of you two ever made it easy on yourselves? Don’t you think maybe Luke is just as-”
“Ali,” Noah kept his voice quiet but firm. He’d learned awhile ago it was the easiest way to get her attention. “He’s not the same person he was before. I don’t know if we can go back to that. He’s not going to look at me the same way. I don’t...” another sip of beer, another delay of a confession. “I can’t go back to him as something less than everything. And I can’t go back to him if he’s going to leave again. Or if he thinks I’m someone who can just be left.” Another sip, and now he was just staring down at the stupid chopsticks. “If he does it again.”
He kept looking down, even as he felt the change of position around him, Ali’s hands taking his half-eaten food away, Casey sliding into the seat beside him as she headed into the kitchen.
“Noah.”
Casey’s voice was surprisingly calm, aware. Gentle. Noah found himself looking up at him. Uh-oh. The last time Casey had looked at him like that had been...
Because of Mason.
---
The basement of the campus library is the perfect spot. It’s quiet and dark, which has the combined benefit of allowing Noah to hear when someone is coming and hide so they don’t see him.
He’s gotten really good at hiding lately.
This particular corner hub has become his favorite this week. Even his entire six foot frame fits comfortably between the two end stacks. The only person who would probably think to look for him here is- was...
Noah clears his throat painfully, slowing down his breaths so he won’t start freaking out. It’s been almost four months. It shouldn’t still feel like this, right? Like all the air suddenly turns on him, hurting instead of helping him breathe?
He’s never really understood that whole Stages of Grief thing. When his mom died, it was just numbness. When his dad “died,” it was anger. Lots of anger. And now, with...
Maybe, he realizes, he just thought the stages would be perfectly evened out and easy to knock through. Denial, he’s done that. Anger and bargaining, he wouldn’t even know how. But the depression, he’s gotten to that fairly easily. And it won’t let go.
He doesn’t see himself accepting.
He forcefully opens a book, almost shoving at the cover to distract himself. Get it together, Mayer. People are beginning to notice. Emma is starting to give him concerned looks when he stops by the farm to see her and the kids. Jack tries to call him every so often. And he’s pretty sure Damian is getting way more coffee than he needs to, stopping in Java a few times a week when Noah is on shift.
Maybe Damian is right, what he mentioned a few days ago- maybe it’s time to look for a new (better) job. And Noah sees the benefit of it; everyone knows they can find him at Java. Everyone. He can’t stop the slight shudder down his spine, the bitter taste in his mouth. Mason.
Unconsciously, Noah folds more into his hiding spot. At least Mason hasn’t found this place yet. Noah’s safe here. Relatively speaking.
The shaking finally stops, but Noah can’t concentrate on the textbook in his lap. He distantly realizes it’s been weeks since class started, and he has yet to read anything in it. That should worry him, probably. It would worry Luke.
He throws the book to the side, presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. He hates everything about everything. He hates Mason. And he’s so scared that-
“How can you sit here? This place is so creepy.”
Noah flinches, one arm raising defensively before recognizing Casey’s shadow in the doorway. “What?”
Casey is quiet for a second, eyeing Noah’s raised arm, waiting for him to put it down and relax a little. “It was a bitch trying to find you down here. And for the record? This place looks way too much like the library from Ghostbusters. I don’t like it.”
Noah clears his throat again, tries to rearrange his textbooks so they look organized and not ignored. “How’d you know I was here?”
Casey shrugs, stepping into the little nook. “I put a tracking device in your shoe.” Off Noah’s look, he grins. “I saw you outside, realized I haven’t seen you in like,” he checks his watch for no reason. “Two weeks.”
Noah almost flinches again. Has it really been two weeks? Even then, even as fucked up as life had been two weeks ago, Noah wishes he could go back. Undo what he’s done.
“Noah,” Casey’s voice is surprisingly calm, steady. “Is something, um, new going on?”
Noah surprises himself by nodding. He keeps his head up, trying to stay aware of the door just in case, keeping watch. But he can’t look at Casey.
“Did something...” Casey trails off, then suddenly pushes close, urgent and worried. “Your dad. Did he do something?”
Of course Casey’s worried about that; Margo was shot last time the Colonel appeared. He tries to smile reassuringly (it hurts to) and shakes his head. “No.”
“Then what?” Casey, maybe proving he really wants to know, settles onto the floor next to him, thankfully not facing him directing. It makes it easier for Noah to talk.
Well, relatively easier. “I cheated on Luke.” It suddenly occurs to him that it’s been awhile since Noah has said his name out loud.
Casey freezes next to him. “What?”
He rubs his fingers together, needing something to do. “I- I don’t know.”
Casey’s quiet for a minute. “Have you met someone? It’s okay if you have, it’s been months, buddy.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not that. At all.”
“Then what is it?” Casey does turn to look at him head-on, and Noah cringes, can’t hide.
So it all tumbles out. “I don’t even know if I wanted to. But I said okay. I just needed something. That’s really bad, right? Because Luke hates him. Hated. And he kept getting too close, but I didn’t stop him. I said okay. And slept with him. I can’t stop feeling like I cheated on Luke. I betrayed him.”
“The fuck?” Casey mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Who, Noah? What’s going on? And what do you mean you didn’t want to?”
“Mason,” Noah looks down at the floor, feeling his face burn, unable to stop his voice from cracking. “I slept with him.”
Another dead silence. “Your teacher.” It’s not a question. “Shit.” Also not a question. “What happened?” That one is, but Noah just shrugs at it. “Noah, come on.”
“I guess Luke was right about him,” he says to the floor. “Only reason he was nice to me and gave me any attention was because he wanted to sleep with me.”
“Jesus,” Casey blows out a breath slowly. “What do you mean when you said you didn’t want to? Did... did he force you-”
“No,” Noah interjects quickly. “I knew what was going on. I said okay. I let him.”
“Letting and wanting are different things,” Casey argues. “He shouldn’t have put you in that position. He shouldn’t have been pressuring you at all. Never mind he’s your teacher. Never mind you just lost Luke. No. If you weren’t interested, he should have stopped.”
“Thanks, Mr. PSA,” Noah mumbles. “It’s not like it matters now.”
“It always matters. I don’t care,” Casey snaps. “When did it happen?”
“Two weeks ago,” Noah’s back to trying to hide. “And then a few days later. And then the day after that.” He wants to take a shower just saying it.
“Still? Now?” Casey sounds surprisingly non-judgemental.
He shakes his head vehemently. “I ended it last week, I swear.”
Casey takes another breath, almost hesitant. “So then why are you hiding a week later?”
Noah doesn’t really know how to explain this part. “He doesn’t want to end it. And he knows where I work, and where my classes are, my dorm...” God this is really pathetic when he says it out loud.
“Has he been, um, following you?” At Noah’s nod, Casey curses again. “Have you been sleeping at your dorm, then? Fuck, of course not. Noah, you need to tell someone. This has to stop.”
“I can’t. Everyone will know we- that I-” He scrubs a hand across his face. He really, really wants Luke. Right now. Even just for two seconds. He just wants Luke to hug him and help him feel like maybe things will be okay. Things don’t feel that way right now. And the patheticness of that almost has him crying.
He still hates everything about everything.
“Screw this.” Casey is in a flurry, picking up Noah’s books, grabbing his arm. “No. This is not going to go down this way. You have any plans for the rest of the day?”
“I’m supposed to have dinner with Damian,” he answers numbly, suddenly too tired to argue with Tropical Storm Casey (Luke is- was- a hurricane, no one else will ever come close).
“Cancel,” Casey says after trying very hard not to react to that. “Come back to my house. Take a nap. Eat my mom’s shitty cooking. You need it.”
“Casey, I can’t-”
“I know it’s shitty cooking, but you need it,” Casey smoothly talks over him. “Then you’re going to go see a movie with Ali, something stupid. And I’m going to talk to my parents about this.”
Noah does try to pull back then. “No way, you-”
More talking over him. “I’ll pull a hypothetical situation on them, okay? But come on, I’ve got a cop and a lawyer at my house, man. Literally a whole episode of Law and Order at my disposal. I won’t mention your name.”
Somehow, they’re already outside the library. Noah is dimly aware that they went out the lesser-used side entrance and actually- for a second- wants to smile. He finally manages to talk once they’re safely in Casey’s car. “You don’t have to do any of this.”
Casey goes still, solemn, looking at the steering wheel. “Look. I know we became friends through Luke. And you and I haven’t had a lot of one-on-one time. But Luke’s gone, and you and I are still here. And... and all the shit we’ve gotten into, you didn’t have to be there to help me, or Ali, or Maddie or whoever. You can’t tell me you pitched in just because you were his boyfriend. You’re a part of the gang, got it? You’re my friend. I don’t always realize it, but I’m pretty sure I trust you with just about everything. So you have to trust me too, okay?”
He looks over at Noah, and all Noah can do is nod. “O-okay.”
“Okay, “Casey echoes, starting the car. “Besides,” he smirks. “I’d make a kickass bodyguard.”
---
Casey was looking at him that same way now. Noah thought of everything they’d trusted each other with for the last few years. He’d been the one to pick up the pieces of Casey and Ali’s first engagement, the insane ‘Mick’ debacle, and get them back together. They’d put up with his temper tantrums while he’d been blind. They were the closest friends he’d ever had, besides Luke.
“I don’t know, Case,” he sighed. “It’s just too much right now. We can’t just magically be back together. He- he left me behind, and I’ve been spending the last couple years doing the same.”
“You’ve been trying to,” Casey corrected. “And hey- he wanted to make sweet, sweet love to you last night. Pretty sure he’s not over it either.”
Noah couldn’t help but smile, rolling his eyes. “I can’t just jump right back in. If he decides to leave, that that new life of his is better? I’m not going through that again.”
“Yeah, that was pretty brutal,” Casey casually mused. He sat back in his chair. “Look, I’ll just say this. On behalf of myself and the missus in there,” he hooked a thumb back towards the kitchen, “who’s probably eavesdropping on this, we just want you to be happy.” Ali appeared in the doorway, blushing a little. “Personally, I think Luke could have something to do with that, but whatever. You happy, us happy.”
Noah smiled, took the hug Ali gave him, but inside he just shook his head. He didn’t really believe in happy endings anymore.
***
“Here you go, honey,” Lily appeared next to him with a plate of dishes. “Thank you for dinner.”
“Thanks,” Luke took the dishes from her, rinsing right away, pretending he didn’t notice how she lingered next to him, her hands fidgeting at her sides.
“It’s a nice apartment,” she finally spoke, turning to lean back against the counter and face away from him, as though she were studying the kitchen (for what would be the third time that night).
“Thanks,” he said again, a little less sure this time. It was a nice apartment, the best he could afford on his salary from Grimaldi. It was... enough. For now.
She didn’t even really hesitate with it this time. “Are you sure you don’t want a bigger place, or closer to home? You can use your-”
“Please don’t say trust fund,” he held up a hand, sending a few soap bubbles into the air. (Noah would’ve told him that meant he was using too much soap. But Noah wasn’t here. Luke was tempted to pour in even more soap, right now. Just. Because.)
Lily mom-pouted. “But it’s your money, Luke. It’s yours to use however you want; you’re old enough now.”
“I don’t want to use it just for things I ‘want’, Mom,” he said quietly. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t get rid of it.”
She was silent for a moment. “I couldn’t, for awhile. It was too hard. And then, we- I figured we could keep it as is, move it into the other kids’ accounts at some point, or the foundation, or... I don’t know. It was easier to do nothing.”
“But Grandmother’s money, I thought she’d do something with hers,” he turned to her finally, curious about this one.
Lily winced. “She tried. She was going to give it to someone else, but he wouldn’t accept it.”
Noah. Did all fucking roads have to lead back to Noah? Yes. And why would he turn down Lucinda’s money but accept Damian’s? It didn’t make sense. “Why did she leave?” Luke asked, finally. He’d been dying to know since his first night back too.
Lily shook her head. “Damian bought Worldwide. She couldn’t see that it was... it was to help her. Keep the company secure, give it more financial backing. She couldn’t accept that. And she,” Lily sighed, took a few steps, walked back. “She didn’t approve of some of my choices. And I wasn’t going to let her change my mind. So, when John Dixon offered to take her to Europe,” Lily shrugged, very precise. “She left.” Then she eyed Luke, suspicious. “I would’ve thought she told you all this on the phone.”
Luke frowned. “I tried. She wouldn’t talk about it.” The phone calls he’d had with Lucinda since coming back had been so awkward. Lucinda sounded different. Hardened. Much more like the imperious person she’d always pretended to be. Now, though, Luke couldn’t see through the mask. The only time Lucinda seemed happy was when she talked about John or the letters the kids sent her.
Nothing about the past. They were still a lot alike, weren’t they?
(Noah would point out that Lucinda’s transformation probably had a lot to do with not having Luke around as her shoulder to lean on, her anchor. Luke promptly ignored that.)
“I’m staying here,” he got back to their original discussion. “for now, at least.” It was on the opposite side of town from everyone else- the farm, Damian, the office, Noah. The farthest he could be away without being gone.
Another silence as Lily started helping him dry the dishes. “I miss him every day,” she finally said.
Luke dropped the glass in his hand, cursing when it crashed into the sink and broke, cutting his finger.
“Honey-” Lily reached for his hand.
He yanked it away. “Don’t.” Wrapping a dish towel around the cut, he headed to the bathroom, leaving her behind. By the time he got back, calmer and Band-Aided, the broken glass was cleared away, the rest of the dishes washed and dried. Lily was sitting at his little breakfast table, waiting and expectant.
He sat across from her. “Mom.”
She shook her head. “I do. I miss him. And I still love him. I always will.”
“But he’s gone,” Luke snapped. “And you had no problem with Damian-”
“I needed to not be alone, Luke. Damian, he loves me. It’s why he’s so-”
“Controlling?” If she could interrupt Luke, he could interrupt right back.
“It’s not controlling,” she insisted. “It’s just the only way he knows how to show he cared. He wants to take care of us, that’s all.”
“It’s still not okay for it to be so soon,” he muttered. “Jack said it took like a month before he moved in.”
She deflated a little. “I know. But I was a wreck. Everyone was grieving, Faith was acting out, I needed help. I know Faith and Natalie are still angry about it-” and they probably weren’t the only ones- “But it was the only thing that got me through.”
And on some level, Luke could understand that. But he still hated it.
And Lily could probably see that. “I- I hope, some day, you can forgive me,” she said softly.
It was an opening he didn’t know he’d been looking for until now. “If you do something for me.”
“Anything,” she assured, sitting forward and taking his hand.
“You have to forgive Noah.” Her hand stilled around his, but he grabbed on. “You have to. None of that was his fault, and he’s still paying for it.”
She looked away. “Luke...”
“It wasn’t his fault I was there any more than it was Dad’s fault the truck crashed,” he barreled on. “You can’t be mad at Noah and not mad at him.”
“I was mad at Holden,” she admitted. “I yelled at that stupid barn so many times after.”
Luke had to smile. “Me too.” Only he’d gone back to the cemetery and yelled there. “You have to stop punishing Noah. You love him, Mom, you have from the beginning. And he loves you. You were the first mom-person he ever had.”
There were tears in her eyes, but they weren’t angry so Luke hoped this was working. “It’s just so hard, honey,” she half-whispered. “Everywhere I saw him- working with Damian or going to the farm or taking Ethan to school, I kept thinking it should’ve been you there. And you weren’t.”
“That’s not his fault,” Luke said. “Don’t you think he was trying to do all those things to make up for it?” Suddenly, that’s exactly what Luke was thinking. “You have to stop, Mom. Let go.”
“What about you?” Lily asked, voice still soft. “Are you letting go?”
They sat in silence while Luke tried to figure out his answer. It was silent for a long time.
( CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 4)
Author: carolinablu85
Artist: frances_veritas ( HERE OMG)
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Warnings: Characters deaths, Deviation from canon (story starts with canon from summer 2009), Angst, Multiple Flashbacks
Summary: When his dad is killed and he thinks it’s his fault, Luke runs away from his home and his family- and Noah. Years later, he reappears in a very changed Oakdale to right the wrongs he left behind.
HUGE EXTRA A/N HERE, PLEASE READ: There is a flashback to a car accident and character death in this chapter. I've marked the flashback itself with extra ----- so if you don't want to read that particular bit, you don't have to. Please take heed.
PROLOGUE | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | EPILOGUE
He ditched the tie the second he was in the car. It really was strangling him. Or at least felt like it was, ever since Luke left.
He almost shuddered. ‘Left’ had a different meaning now. ‘Left’ just meant left for the night or for a few hours. It wasn’t permanent. It wasn’t forever. When Luke ‘left’ now, he would come back. Noah was embarrassed at how often he had to remind himself of that. Or how often he called Casey or Ali in the last couple days just to chat, listening for any sound of Luke in the background. Just to make sure he was still there. That he hadn’t left again.
Noah stopped himself from more stupid thoughts. He was dwelling in the past again. Damian might be a... Damian, but he was still right about that. Noah had to grow up sometime. He had to move on, or get left behind.
He got to the school complex right on time. Faith and Natalie would be wrapping up their tutoring and dance classes any minute, Ethan’s after school group would finish up ten minutes after that. They’d all perfected this- Noah picked them up on Mondays and Tuesdays, Lily the rest of the week. That way the kids were always taken care of.
Faith was already waiting when he pulled up, re-shouldering her messenger bag. (It was his old one from college; she thought it was cooler than a backpack. No one had ever thought Noah was cool before.) She flopped into the front seat with a sigh. He didn’t ask. He knew better.
Natalie bounded in a minute later. “Hi Noah! Did you have a good day at work? Did you have fun? What-”
“What’s she doing here?” Faith interrupted.
For a second, Noah thought she was talking about Nat. But, no, Faith was pointing to the side, just as Lily’s car pulled up and parked next to them. Noah hopefully kept his reaction to a minimum. He wanted to echo Faith. What was Lily doing there?
“It’s Tuesday,” Natalie piped up from the backseat, just as confused.
Noah made eye contact with Lily the second she stepped out of her car. He was sadly proud- he’d stopped flinching at her looks awhile ago. But her eyes weren’t accusatory or cold today. Not even distant. Just... strained. Tired.
Emboldened, he got out of his car, facing her. Natalie, curious as ever, slid out of the backseat to stand next to him. Faith (of course) stayed in the car. “Hi, Lily.”
“Noah,” she said it quietly. He still remembered a time when she would greet him warmly, a hug, a kiss to his cheek, calling him sweetheart or something. He really needed to stop remembering.
He crossed his arms protectively. “It’s Tuesday,” he echoed Nat’s perfectly logical argument.
Lily blinked, thrown for a second. “Oh. It is, isn’t it?” She pushed her hair back from her face, frazzled. “It’s been... a long few days, I must have lost track of what day it is.”
“It’s not that hard,” Faith commented through the open window, still facing forward. “It’s the second day in the week that you’re supposed to go to work but do nothing instead.”
“Faith,” Lily and Noah both reprimanded her wearily at the same time. It was Lily who flinched at that before continuing resolutely. “We’re having a family dinner at the house tonight, I just thought I’d drive them straight there.”
A family dinner that Luke was probably going to, and Noah wasn’t. “I can drive them there and drop them off. I’m capable.” Was it wrong that he didn’t really care that he was baiting her? It had been a long few days for him too.
“It’ll be easier if I do,” she maintained, voice growing stronger with each word. “Natalie, Faith, let’s go.”
Natalie looked hesitant, but got into Lily’s car when Noah nodded at her. It was fine, really. Probably meant he’d get more work done tonight. That was good, right?
Faith didn’t think so. She got out of the car, but only to glare at her mother. (She’d hate to know it was a glare she’d definitely inherited from Lily.) “No. It’s Tuesday. We have a schedule. You can’t just-”
“Yes, I can. I’m your mother.”
“Not on Mondays and Tuesday,” Faith snapped. She crossed her arms too, so Noah hurriedly dropped his, turning towards her.
“Faith,” he said it calmly, but with a little pleading. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.
She glared at him defiantly, desperately, more than a little stressed herself, when a yell of “Mama?” could be heard across the parking lot. Noah couldn’t help but smile a little. It was weird, sure. But hearing Ethan call Lily the same term Holden had used for Emma- it was one reminder that didn’t make Noah all that sad.
The smile vanished (or at least went pretty fake) at the confused look on Ethan’s face as he looked back and forth between Lily and Noah. Noah tried not to take it personally when Ethan ran up to Lily and hugged her. “Why are you here on Tuesday?”
It would’ve been funny under any other circumstances. “Tonight’s special,” Lily softened and crouched down next to Ethan. “We’re going to have dinner at home, at the house, okay? So I came to pick you up.”
And Noah also tried not to take it personally when Ethan’s face lit up and he jumped into Lily’s car without another thought. Not wanting to see Lily’s reaction to it, he focused instead on Faith again. “No,” she argued before he could say anything.
“Go on,” he murmured. She shook her head, so obstinate, and so Luke. Suddenly he really needed her to go. If he was going to have a panic attack or something in his car, he didn’t want her to see it. “Faith,” he said it again. “I’d be driving you there now anyway. It’s an extra fifteen minutes with her. Please.”
She glared at him now, betrayed. But instead of arguing, she grabbed the messenger bag out of the front seat and marched to Lily’s car without looking at either of them. After saying something quietly to Natalie, she got into the backseat with a slam of the door, letting Nat crawl up into the front. To sit next to Lily.
If Noah wasn’t so tired, he’d admire her commitment to the grudge.
Instead he smiled again at Ethan’s wave through the window, waving back as Faith helped him buckle his seatbelt. Then he realized Lily was still standing facing him, and he lowered his arm, waiting.
“Luke hasn’t mentioned you two, well, you know,” she played with the keys in her hand.
The jingling noise grated on his ears. “Know what?” Wow, he really was baiting today. But it wasn’t like he really had anything to lose, was it?
“Are you two even talking right now?” she asked softly.
He couldn’t tell whether she was asking hopefully or suspiciously. So he played it close to the vest, distant. Careful. “We talked today. He’s going to work at Grimaldi, I guess.”
“He is?” The jingling stopped. Lily’s eyes were wide, the rest of her face guarded. Noah’s eyes narrowed at that. Lily didn’t seem that excited about the news. Did she not want Luke working for Damian?
Did she feel the same way Noah did? Did she know the same things Noah did?
She was still looking at him strangely. “Are you two going to get back to-”
“You’re going to be late for dinner,” he pointed out, turning his back, opening his door.
There was silence behind him for a second, and then the sounds of Lily getting into her car. No more words between them, like usual. He sat there, watching out of the windshield until they were gone. And his stupid, stupid brain had so many thoughts tumbling through it, but the one he kept circling around-
Now that Luke was back, was he going to be on the outside again? Was there a place for him in the family anymore?
***
“This is already my favorite meeting of the day,” Emily Stewart announced the second she opened the door and ushered Luke into her apartment.
“Huh?” he glanced around at the two computers in the room, the bulletin boards covered in notes and circled news clippings. It was the living room of a crazy person.
“It’s not very often I get to interview a dead guy,” she explained, settling herself down on her couch, shoving aside a few file folders so Luke had room to sit too.
He did, gingerly. “This isn’t an interview.”
“Not yet. But it will be.”
“And I’m not a dead guy,” he also had to say.
“Not anymore,” she fired back. “But we’ll get to that later. Why is it you wanted to talk to me? Alison said it was important.”
“The accident that killed my dad. And almost killed me.” Luke fidgeted. “Alison said you looked into it when it first happened.”
“I tried to,” she glared at nothing. “But I ran into roadblocks at every turn. Wasn’t long before The Intruder was out of business anyway, and your grandmother up and left the country with old John Dixon, and Worldwide was bought up, and the new mayor took over, and your Darth Vader of a father-”
“You think it was all related?” he asked, studying her living room again. So, maybe not a crazy person. Maybe a freelance investigative journalist whatever. Luke barely, barely remembered a time when he’d wanted to do the same as this.
Look where it got both of them.
“Maybe. So no interview yet. You want me to, what, hand over my notes on the crash?” Her tone nearly dripped with skepticism.
“Not necessarily. I want to hire you.” Luke laid his palms flat on his lap, maintaining an air of business or power or something. Anything but nerves.
“To what?” she asked, eyebrow raising.
“Reinvestigate. I need to know what happened,” he spoke firmly. “I’ve been trying for over a week by myself, no luck.” He’d spent all his time in his new apartment doing nothing but going over those files Ali helped him steal. No luck. It was like gibberish to him. “My trust fund’s been untouched for three years. I’m pretty sure there’s enough in there to get you past some of those roadblocks.”
Emily blinked at him, thrown. A tiny part of Luke was proud of that. “Oh. Okay then. Well, I guess it beats the jobs I’m on now. All right.” She picked up a few folders she’d had sitting in front of them and moved to set them aside.
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “What are those?”
She smiled a little grimly. “Those are the reports I thought you were coming over here for. My mistake to assume. I’ll get rid of them.”
“Reports on what?” he asked automatically. His curiosity, as always, peaked immediately.
She brought the plain manilla folders back into her lap. “These,” she began, her voice not quite purposefully dramatic but pretty close, “are the police, medical, and legal documents pertaining to the last three years of your boyfriend’s life.”
“Noah?” he asked numbly, his focus on the reports.
“There’s not much, Grimaldi managed to keep a lot of it off the record. And I’m sure my sister and Casey have told you a lot, but...” she tapped the top file with a perfectly manicured nail. “I don’t know, I thought that’s why you were here.”
Luke didn’t know if he should feel guilty about that or not. He did, a little bit. He wasn’t sure what for- digging yet again into Noah’s life or not making Noah his priority?- but he definitely recognized guilt as one of the things flying around.
“What do you want for them?” he asked, in control.
“An interview when all of this is over, unrestricted,” she said quickly. “If this plays out the way I think- the way you hope- I’m going to be the one to write it up.” She held out her hand. “Deal?”
Luke eyed her hand, the folders, her hand again. And shook. “Deal.”
Noah’s files were placed in his hand.
***
It was hours later that he thought to come here, to this. Luke sat gingerly on the ground, cross legged, feeling younger than he’d felt in years. Like a little kid again.
He wasn’t.
He cleared his very dry throat. The headstone was nice and simple, well-kept. Something his dad would like. (Not like, of course. Nobody was going to like having a headstone.)
He just sat, staring for awhile. There was no thudding of his heart, in his ears or chest or anywhere. Like his body was empty. No heart.
Empty.
“I can’t believe you did this to me,” he whispered after a few more minutes. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, now. You were supposed to... You said you’d always be there for me. But you’re not. You’re-” he cut himself off. “You were supposed to be my dad forever.”
There was no answer, of course. It pissed Luke off a little bit. Was it his job now, to be there for the family like Holden had been? There was no way Luke was good enough for that. He could barely manage his own life. How was he supposed to do any of this without knowing how his Dad felt about it? Or felt about him? If he approved, if he disapproved, if he wanted Luke to-
He’d never be a grandfather. Luke couldn’t really deal with that either. Holden would have been the best grandfather ever. He was supposed to be. And he was supposed to be there for when Ethan needed him, to teach him that it was okay to be whoever he wanted. Ethan was never going to hear that ‘I’ll love you no matter what’ that dads always said. Who was going to do that for him now?
Luke unzipped and rezipped his jacket a few times. The headstone next to Holden’s grave was a plot that had recently been taped off to be re-dug. His grave. How fucking creepy was that? Luke didn’t study it too hard. The gravestone had been removed yesterday, Damian had told him. One of the weirder conversations he’d had in his life, for sure.
He wanted so so much to be angry at him, them, everyone. He wished he could be. But it was just himself. He was here. Holden wasn’t. And Luke wanted to hate him so much for that, what was wrong with him?
Why was he still here?
“Hey.”
He jumped, not at all cool or composed, when a voice spoke up quietly from behind him. He didn’t turn, knowing who it was. Of course. “Hi.”
Noah’s steps sounded really unsure, even from here, so he was a little surprised when they came closer, and Noah sat down next to him. Not very close, definitely not touching, but there. Beside him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly, not unkindly. Thank God he hadn’t been crying.
Noah shrugged. “I don’t know. You?”
“I hadn’t- this is the first time I’ve...” he gestured to his own not-grave. “Damian said that they were taking me- this down. I realized I haven’t been here, seen him.”
Noah nodded, was quiet for a few minutes. “Does it help?”
His instinct was to shake his head. “I’ll let you know.” Another bout of silence. If this was a different universe, Luke would be picking up Noah’s hand, playing with his fingers, leaning into his shoulder, maybe-
He cut himself off. He’d been staring at Noah’s hands again. No. Bad Luke. He’d been so good at work; they barely saw each other there anyway, it wasn’t like he had an opportunity to do, well, anything. It wasn’t like he really wanted to, either. He wasn’t Luke of Luke-and-Noah anymore, was he?
“Did it help you?” he asked, purposefully dragging himself back into the conversation. “Coming here?”
Noah nodded, to his surprise. “I, um, I’d come here to talk. To both of you.” He lowered his voice, trying to keep it light, “First time you never interrupted me.”
Luke tried to laugh for his sake. It almost worked. “How was work today?”
He almost laughed again at the skeptical look Noah gave him this time. “Are you- it was fine. You?”
Luke shrugged this time. He pulled up a few clumps of grass, dropped them again. “Still trying to figure it all out.”
“You’ve only been there like a week or two,” Noah offered. “It takes getting used to.”
“You’re good at it,” Luke said. He was a little sad about that. “Everyone says so. You’re like the go-to guy in your department.” He still wasn’t exactly sure what each department was yet, but he was sure he didn’t like that Noah was so good at his job. Sure, it was Noah, he always worked hard at everything, but still. It wasn’t right. He was supposed to be making movies.
Luke thought of those files that Emily had given him. He still hadn’t read them. He couldn’t yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted all this to get even worse. Judging by the strained look Noah was trying not to show, maybe he really really didn’t want it to get worse. Noah’s face, shadowed and sad, set off a flash of something in Luke’s mind.
“I was thinking about you,” Luke startled even himself with that. Unable to stop, “Right before the accident. Dad and I were talking about Damian, and I was thinking about you. Planning what we’d do when I got back from Kentucky.”
Noah was turned to face him now, eyes wide and concerned. So fucking blue. “Luke. Do you remember what happened?”
“I don’t know,” he said it helplessly. “I don’t know. We were in the truck. Dad said he didn’t trust Damian. We hit... like a pothole, or something? The truck swerved. Dad couldn’t hit the brakes. We- we went over the side.”
“Luke...” Suddenly Noah’s hand was there, like it would be in that other universe, holding tight. Warm.
Too bad Luke could barely feel it. He was freezing now, and everything was coming out of his brain too quickly. “We must’ve flipped, or something, and my seat belt came loose. I was laying on the roof, Dad was still buckled in.”
----------------------------------------(SEE A/N ABOVE)------------------------------------
“I can’t... I can’t get it undone,” Luke is panting, coughing, shaking. He pulls at his dad’s seat belt, but nothing happens. There’s smoke everywhere, metal that barely looks like a truck anymore. He can’t focus on anything; with the truck upside down he can’t get his bearings. He feels sick.
“Luke,” somehow Holden is calm. Isn’t he always, ‘somehow’? “Can you get out of the truck?”
His window is smashed in a few places, completely gone in others. “Yeah. Yeah. I think so.”
“Okay. I need you to climb back up to the road, flag down a car. Get help.” And when he says it in that voice, Luke wants to obey without thinking.
Almost. “What? No-” He pulls at Holden’s seat belt again. “I can get this.” He stops to cough some more.
“Luke.” There’s blood running down Holden’s face. Not a lot, though, it’s okay. “You and I can’t by ourselves. And I’m not gonna get back up to the road anytime soon. I need you to.” There’s a groaning or cracking or sizzling sound around them, Luke can’t get his brain to slow down long enough to determine what it is.
“O-okay. Okay. The road.” He pauses at his messed up window. “You’re sure?”
“Go,” Holden nods as best he can, not even coughing. “I trust you. You got this.”
“Okay,” he stutters again. He climbs out of the window, feeling his shirt catch and rip a little at an errant shard of glass. (Noah’s going to kill him, it’s one of his favorite shirts on Luke.) He stumble-crawls to the embankment, the incline. He can’t tell how high up it is. Coughing some more, he starting running and climbing.
There’s another sharp popping noise behind him. He stops where he is, maybe halfway up. There’s a weird haze around the truck. He blinks. Fuck this. No. He’ll get Holden out. “Dad! Dad, I-”
“Luke, stop! Get back to the road,” he hears Holden’s voice from the truck. He’s still in there. Luke can still-
There’s another pop. Or crack. Or whatever it is. Luke realizes the haze isn’t just haze. It’s gas. Flames, maybe. “Dad-”
The truck explodes.
------------------------------------(OK!)-----------------------------------------------------------
He was gasping, collapsed forward. He should have been on the ground, it wasn’t like he was holding himself up. But he wasn’t on the ground. Two arms were wrapped around him, not constricting like a seat belt. Warm and safe. He was pulled back against a solid, wide chest.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Breathe. Luke, please. It’s okay. Breathe,” Noah murmured it over and over, holding him tight, Luke nearly in his lap.
“He knew. He knew,” he gasped out. “He knew the truck was going to... he was keeping me away.”
Noah’s hand was in his hair, gentle. “Luke, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He rubbed Luke’s back with his other hand, drawing him even closer.
“It’s not,” he choked. He hadn’t been crying before, he definitely was now. “Oh God, Noah. He knew. He made me leave him. I left him. It-”
“There’s nothing you could have done,” Noah soothed. “It’s not your fault, Luke.”
“I let him die, Noah. God,” he nearly cried out the words. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” who the hell was he even talking to anymore?
He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but he finally stopped crying, stopped talking. He was dimly aware of it all- Holden’s grave in front of him, Noah’s arms around him, his chin resting in Luke’s hair. When Noah whispered, “Let me take you home, okay?” He just nodded.
He didn’t realize until later that Noah meant his home.
***
“Here,” Noah somehow managed to both usher him in and gesture for him to take off his jacket at the same time. “Um, come on in.”
Luke shrugged out of his jacket, happy for the action, something to do. Anything to keep his brain away from focusing and obsessing on Noah. Who’d just had his arms around Luke again, even though it always felt like a first time, never an ‘again’ but an ‘oh my god this is amazing what is this feeling’ thing. But now they were back to that... space between them. Noah wasn’t just walled up away from him, he was shielded up and bunkered down and fortressed away.
And maybe he was too.
Okay. Obviously the action of taking off his jacket wasn’t enough to distract. Okay. He could find something else.
He settled for wandering around Noah’s living room, admiring and investigating in one breath. It was a beautiful apartment, and not at all Noah. Yeah, of course, Noah was beautiful, unbelievably so, but this wasn’t his style. Expansive and almost luxurious. It would be too extravagant, like that rental car Luke had first seen him in, if it weren’t for the obvious touches Noah had added to keep it from going overboard.
The quilt on the sofa was definitely hand-stitched by Emma. Instead of fancy artwork or (this pained Luke a little) movie posters on the walls, drawings from Ethan and probably the other kids were scattered across every flat surface. The TV set wasn’t flat screen or plasma or anything- Luke couldn’t even see a DVR or whatnot- but instead was simple and small. A simple DVD player sat nearby. It didn’t look like it got a lot of use, and the idea that Noah wasn’t watching movies every three hours made Luke more than a little nauseous.
He wandered a little more, reaching the far end of the living room. Glancing down the hallway, he saw the open door to Noah’s bedroom. Blushing and curious at the same time, he studied what he could see from his vantage point, trying not to attract Noah’s attention, busy in the kitchen. The bed was perfectly made, of course. But too perfect. The couch looked more messed up than-
Noah appeared in the living room, pulling Luke away from his spying. “Do you sleep on the couch?” he accused instinctively, that buried-but-not-forgotten worry for Noah Mayer’s well being popping up in his brain.
Noah, to his complete shock, didn’t even try to deflect. “Yeah. Sometimes. When I work late and don’t make it to bed.” He shrugged. “It’s a nice couch. Comfy.” He held out one of the mugs in his hands. “Here.”
Tea. Warm and smelling of honey and something else soothing. Of course. Luke managed a small smile looking down into the mug, wrapped his hands around it. “Thanks.”
Noah just shrugged, clasping his own mug, taking a seat on the comfy couch. He didn’t gesture for Luke to do the same, or tell him to make himself at home or... or anything, really. It threw Luke again, unsettled him. He wasn’t on enemy territory necessarily, but he was a stranger here.
After another moment of looking around, he sat on the other end of the couch, figuring (hoping) it was safe. Okay. He could do this. They sat in silence for awhile, sipping their tea, not looking at each other. Despite that, the awkward tension slowly slipped away until they were both leaning back against the couch, a few inches closer to touching than before.
“It wasn’t an accident,” he finally said. His voice felt scratchy again, like his meltdown in the cemetery had happened only a few minutes ago. “Dad and- and me. Something went wrong. Someone caused it.”
“You don’t know that,” Noah sounded just as rough.
“Not until I prove it, no.” Luke set aside his mug, turning to face Noah. “Help me. Please.”
Noah bit his lip, eyeing him worriedly. “Luke, I’ll help you come to terms with it. I’ll help you start to feel better about yourself and what happened. I’ll help you find a job or a new direction for your life or whatever you need. But I can’t help you start some quest that’s just going to hurt you in the end. Not again.”
“Not again?” he tried not to glare. What was Noah referring to? Reg? Zac and Zoe? “This isn’t the same. This is about my dad, Noah. He was killed. By a person. I need to find that person and make it right.”
“Make what right?” Noah didn’t back down. “It won’t change what happened. And it’s not gonna be the thing that gets you to forgive yourself, I know that.”
“How do you?” he challenged, getting closer, wanting to pushing him, jab him, get in his face, something. Anything.
“Because I know you.” Noah didn’t back down. “I know how you think, or how you don’t think. And I know how you act when you don’t think.”
“What am I not thinking about?” he bit out, his hand wanting to curl into a fist.
Noah was silent for just a second, his face looking... shocked, maybe? Like Luke was supposed to know this answer? Then he shook his head, leaning closer. “People. You don’t think about how people get affected by this. You just go on your crusades and if people get hurt along the way, if you get hurt, who cares. Right?”
Luke hadn’t seen Noah this fired up in a long time. “Because I want to do the right thing? I thought you were all about that, Noah. Above anything.” He hadn’t felt this fired up in a long time either.
Noah’s glare intensified. Searing. “Maybe we have different definitions of right.”
“So I’m never going to stop disappointing you, is that it? I’m never going to be perfect enough for you,” he pushed and pushed some more. He knew how to do this.
Unfortunately, Noah didn’t deflate or back down or slink away. His shoulders squared, eyes still burning forward. “You were,” he almost spat out the words. “But the Luke that was perfect enough for me isn’t here anymore. He’s in the past, right? That’s what you said. And you said you wanted me to let. Him. Go.”
Of course, Luke had no idea how it went from that to his arms wrapped tight around Noah’s neck, pulling his face down the few inches to his mouth, their bodies shoved together. Still pushing and pushing some more. They were kissing and arguing at the same time, just without words.
Grabbing at Noah, pulling him towards that pristine and perfectly made bed, it was like a dam breaking for Luke. But not really with a feeling of relief. It was more like standing in front of that dam right when it breaks, so the water roars and rushes and floods over you, overwhelming and painful. It was scary and he wasn’t entirely sure if the rush felt good or bad. But he went with it.
They made it to the bedroom still stumbling, some clothes already shed, some slipping away still, Noah’s belt only halfway out of the loops and dragging the weight of his jeans to the floor with it. Noah was mostly silent, just harsh inhales every time he tried to breathe around Luke’s mouth.
Luke pulled now, hard, demanding, wanting this to be everything he needed. He turned them, having them both fall to the bed together, pleased to note the belt and pants were on the floor now and not on Noah. He kicked his own free, landing hard on top, his hand slipping and scrambling along Noah’s hips, holding him there.
If he could keep Noah there, he could keep himself there.
“Do you-” he paused, latched onto the base of Noah’s throat for a moment to taste skin and sweat and to leave a bruise behind. “Do you have...?”
Noah grunted a little, pulling away so he could roll over onto his stomach, reaching over to his bedside table. Luke allowed the movement, only because it meant he could trace Noah’s spine with his fingers, sliding up and down, laying a sloppy kiss to the small of his back just as Noah handed him a condom, a small bottle of lube (half empty, but Luke wasn’t going to think about that).
He moved a hand to Noah’s hip again, pulling, turning him over onto his back again. Or, at least, he tried to. But Noah refused to move, staying on his stomach, reaching behind to bring Luke closer. Luke tried again, “Noah,” but Noah wouldn’t turn. “Noah, what-?” He tugged gently again, asking this time. “I want to see your face.”
“No.” Noah’s voice was quiet, but not really muffled. “No. Like this.”
“What?”
His face was turned away from Luke, nothing else moving. “I can’t that way. I don’t want to.”
Luke pulled away just a little, propping himself up on his elbows. “You don’t want to what?”
“Look at you.”
It hurt. A lot. Maybe more than a lot. “What?”
“I’m not gonna look at you while we do this. I don’t want it to be like... like before. I don’t want to remember how we used to be. Okay? So if we’re going to-”
He stood up pretty fast, standing next to the bed, staring down at Noah who was still not looking at him. “We’re not doing anything.” Not like this. “I’m not going to be like any other random guy who fucks you.”
Noah made that noise that was supposed to be a laugh. “Aren’t you?”
Yeah, that hurt even more. “That’s what you think of me.” It wasn’t a question.
Noah finally moved, rolling onto his back, looking up at Luke like he was running on empty and had nowhere else to go. “No. That’s what you think of me.”
He was quiet for a minute, then pulled his jeans back on, feeling somewhere between dirty and as empty as Noah. “We just, we can’t do this right now, can we? We can’t be together. We can’t be us.”
Noah sat up against the headboard, pulling his comforter up to his waist like a shield. Making no move to help Luke collect his clothes or feel better about any of this. No warm hand on his shoulder, no half-smile that butterflied his stomach, no sweet and fumbling words to mend it. Nothing. “We haven’t been us for a long time, Luke. That was your choice.”
He paused for a second, then pulled his hoodie back on, hoping it masked the shaking of his hands. “Oh.” He was fully dressed now, standing over the bed. “You haven’t forgiven me, have you?”
There it was, a tiny crack in Noah’s armor. He stuttered for a second, hands tightening around the comforter. He closed his eyes before looking up at Luke. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.” The look in his eyes was heartbreaking, confused. “I want you in my life, Luke. I do. But, but I don’t...”
He almost, almost stepped forward, wrapped his arms tight around those shoulders. He really, really loved those shoulders. He didn’t want to be rid of them either. “I know. We could...” he cleared his throat and tried again, already hating the feeling. “We could try being friends.” God, it felt like such an alien word.
Noah’s face seemed to fall too, but Luke couldn’t be sure. “Yeah. Um, yeah. We should. It’s for the best now, right?” Noah shrugged. “There’s just too much...” he trailed off, the words not coming, but Luke got it. He did. It was for the best. There was too much of everything.
He offered Noah one quick smile and backed out of the room, not even bothering with an excuse or a goodbye. Instead he tapped his hand along the doorframe a few times, maybe signaling his exit, or gathering his strength, or maybe giving Noah a few seconds to stop him, or maybe just double-checking that all this was real. And it really, really was. With that, he left.
***
“And then he left,” Noah passed his carton of lo mein over to Ali.
She accepted it unconsciously, her attention still focused on Noah. Casey was obviously clenching his jaw to keep from giving him an open-mouthed stare. His egg roll was untouched in front of him.
“But Noah,” Ali shook her head, her eyes a kind of Disney-princess-wide. “It- it’s you and- you two are-”
Casey briefly dropped his hand on top of her head. “Complete sentences, dear.” Then he glared at Noah. “But seriously, what the hell. This is what you have literally been dreaming about for three years. Why’d you send him packing?”
“Because it wasn’t right,” Noah glared right back, though with about half the heat. He was just tired. And hungry. He dug into his food, awkwardly maneuvering the chopsticks (he’d never gotten good at using them). “Because we’re not together, we’re not what we used to be, and to pretend that we are just for sex is... it’s wrong. I can’t keep getting myself hung up on the past.”
Casey almost slammed his beer down on the table at that, only a warning glance from Alison stopping the force of it. Instead he set the bottle down carefully, still grabbing Noah’s attention. “That’s Damian talking. Those are his words, and if you ever, ever repeat something like that again just because he told you, I swear to Zuul I will-”
“It’s not Damian,” Noah protested, stopping yet another Casey-Hughes-Ghostbusters-themed rant. “Not just Damian,” he amended. “Luke told me the same thing. That he let go of the past. That he doesn’t care about any of that or want any of that anymore.”
“He really said exactly that?” Ali half-screeched.
“He didn’t mean it!” Casey said at the same time.
Noah shook his head at both of them, using the time it took to sip his beer to delay talking anymore. For the twenty seconds it earned him. “He doesn’t want to go backwards. He doesn’t want anything that has to do with his past. He told me that.”
“Damian, or Luke?” Casey questioned. “Because seriously Noah, I love you, but you’re densely polite. Damian will say fucking anything to get his way, and you’ll let him. And he wants you under his thumb, and he wants to have you as some, like, secret weapon evil henchman that will just do his bidding and help him rule the world, and I won’t stand for it.”
Noah and Ali were both silent for a moment, recovering from his tirade. “You’re drunk,” Ali pronounced, smoothly turning back to Noah. “Seriously, honey, when have either of you two ever made it easy on yourselves? Don’t you think maybe Luke is just as-”
“Ali,” Noah kept his voice quiet but firm. He’d learned awhile ago it was the easiest way to get her attention. “He’s not the same person he was before. I don’t know if we can go back to that. He’s not going to look at me the same way. I don’t...” another sip of beer, another delay of a confession. “I can’t go back to him as something less than everything. And I can’t go back to him if he’s going to leave again. Or if he thinks I’m someone who can just be left.” Another sip, and now he was just staring down at the stupid chopsticks. “If he does it again.”
He kept looking down, even as he felt the change of position around him, Ali’s hands taking his half-eaten food away, Casey sliding into the seat beside him as she headed into the kitchen.
“Noah.”
Casey’s voice was surprisingly calm, aware. Gentle. Noah found himself looking up at him. Uh-oh. The last time Casey had looked at him like that had been...
Because of Mason.
---
The basement of the campus library is the perfect spot. It’s quiet and dark, which has the combined benefit of allowing Noah to hear when someone is coming and hide so they don’t see him.
He’s gotten really good at hiding lately.
This particular corner hub has become his favorite this week. Even his entire six foot frame fits comfortably between the two end stacks. The only person who would probably think to look for him here is- was...
Noah clears his throat painfully, slowing down his breaths so he won’t start freaking out. It’s been almost four months. It shouldn’t still feel like this, right? Like all the air suddenly turns on him, hurting instead of helping him breathe?
He’s never really understood that whole Stages of Grief thing. When his mom died, it was just numbness. When his dad “died,” it was anger. Lots of anger. And now, with...
Maybe, he realizes, he just thought the stages would be perfectly evened out and easy to knock through. Denial, he’s done that. Anger and bargaining, he wouldn’t even know how. But the depression, he’s gotten to that fairly easily. And it won’t let go.
He doesn’t see himself accepting.
He forcefully opens a book, almost shoving at the cover to distract himself. Get it together, Mayer. People are beginning to notice. Emma is starting to give him concerned looks when he stops by the farm to see her and the kids. Jack tries to call him every so often. And he’s pretty sure Damian is getting way more coffee than he needs to, stopping in Java a few times a week when Noah is on shift.
Maybe Damian is right, what he mentioned a few days ago- maybe it’s time to look for a new (better) job. And Noah sees the benefit of it; everyone knows they can find him at Java. Everyone. He can’t stop the slight shudder down his spine, the bitter taste in his mouth. Mason.
Unconsciously, Noah folds more into his hiding spot. At least Mason hasn’t found this place yet. Noah’s safe here. Relatively speaking.
The shaking finally stops, but Noah can’t concentrate on the textbook in his lap. He distantly realizes it’s been weeks since class started, and he has yet to read anything in it. That should worry him, probably. It would worry Luke.
He throws the book to the side, presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. He hates everything about everything. He hates Mason. And he’s so scared that-
“How can you sit here? This place is so creepy.”
Noah flinches, one arm raising defensively before recognizing Casey’s shadow in the doorway. “What?”
Casey is quiet for a second, eyeing Noah’s raised arm, waiting for him to put it down and relax a little. “It was a bitch trying to find you down here. And for the record? This place looks way too much like the library from Ghostbusters. I don’t like it.”
Noah clears his throat again, tries to rearrange his textbooks so they look organized and not ignored. “How’d you know I was here?”
Casey shrugs, stepping into the little nook. “I put a tracking device in your shoe.” Off Noah’s look, he grins. “I saw you outside, realized I haven’t seen you in like,” he checks his watch for no reason. “Two weeks.”
Noah almost flinches again. Has it really been two weeks? Even then, even as fucked up as life had been two weeks ago, Noah wishes he could go back. Undo what he’s done.
“Noah,” Casey’s voice is surprisingly calm, steady. “Is something, um, new going on?”
Noah surprises himself by nodding. He keeps his head up, trying to stay aware of the door just in case, keeping watch. But he can’t look at Casey.
“Did something...” Casey trails off, then suddenly pushes close, urgent and worried. “Your dad. Did he do something?”
Of course Casey’s worried about that; Margo was shot last time the Colonel appeared. He tries to smile reassuringly (it hurts to) and shakes his head. “No.”
“Then what?” Casey, maybe proving he really wants to know, settles onto the floor next to him, thankfully not facing him directing. It makes it easier for Noah to talk.
Well, relatively easier. “I cheated on Luke.” It suddenly occurs to him that it’s been awhile since Noah has said his name out loud.
Casey freezes next to him. “What?”
He rubs his fingers together, needing something to do. “I- I don’t know.”
Casey’s quiet for a minute. “Have you met someone? It’s okay if you have, it’s been months, buddy.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not that. At all.”
“Then what is it?” Casey does turn to look at him head-on, and Noah cringes, can’t hide.
So it all tumbles out. “I don’t even know if I wanted to. But I said okay. I just needed something. That’s really bad, right? Because Luke hates him. Hated. And he kept getting too close, but I didn’t stop him. I said okay. And slept with him. I can’t stop feeling like I cheated on Luke. I betrayed him.”
“The fuck?” Casey mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Who, Noah? What’s going on? And what do you mean you didn’t want to?”
“Mason,” Noah looks down at the floor, feeling his face burn, unable to stop his voice from cracking. “I slept with him.”
Another dead silence. “Your teacher.” It’s not a question. “Shit.” Also not a question. “What happened?” That one is, but Noah just shrugs at it. “Noah, come on.”
“I guess Luke was right about him,” he says to the floor. “Only reason he was nice to me and gave me any attention was because he wanted to sleep with me.”
“Jesus,” Casey blows out a breath slowly. “What do you mean when you said you didn’t want to? Did... did he force you-”
“No,” Noah interjects quickly. “I knew what was going on. I said okay. I let him.”
“Letting and wanting are different things,” Casey argues. “He shouldn’t have put you in that position. He shouldn’t have been pressuring you at all. Never mind he’s your teacher. Never mind you just lost Luke. No. If you weren’t interested, he should have stopped.”
“Thanks, Mr. PSA,” Noah mumbles. “It’s not like it matters now.”
“It always matters. I don’t care,” Casey snaps. “When did it happen?”
“Two weeks ago,” Noah’s back to trying to hide. “And then a few days later. And then the day after that.” He wants to take a shower just saying it.
“Still? Now?” Casey sounds surprisingly non-judgemental.
He shakes his head vehemently. “I ended it last week, I swear.”
Casey takes another breath, almost hesitant. “So then why are you hiding a week later?”
Noah doesn’t really know how to explain this part. “He doesn’t want to end it. And he knows where I work, and where my classes are, my dorm...” God this is really pathetic when he says it out loud.
“Has he been, um, following you?” At Noah’s nod, Casey curses again. “Have you been sleeping at your dorm, then? Fuck, of course not. Noah, you need to tell someone. This has to stop.”
“I can’t. Everyone will know we- that I-” He scrubs a hand across his face. He really, really wants Luke. Right now. Even just for two seconds. He just wants Luke to hug him and help him feel like maybe things will be okay. Things don’t feel that way right now. And the patheticness of that almost has him crying.
He still hates everything about everything.
“Screw this.” Casey is in a flurry, picking up Noah’s books, grabbing his arm. “No. This is not going to go down this way. You have any plans for the rest of the day?”
“I’m supposed to have dinner with Damian,” he answers numbly, suddenly too tired to argue with Tropical Storm Casey (Luke is- was- a hurricane, no one else will ever come close).
“Cancel,” Casey says after trying very hard not to react to that. “Come back to my house. Take a nap. Eat my mom’s shitty cooking. You need it.”
“Casey, I can’t-”
“I know it’s shitty cooking, but you need it,” Casey smoothly talks over him. “Then you’re going to go see a movie with Ali, something stupid. And I’m going to talk to my parents about this.”
Noah does try to pull back then. “No way, you-”
More talking over him. “I’ll pull a hypothetical situation on them, okay? But come on, I’ve got a cop and a lawyer at my house, man. Literally a whole episode of Law and Order at my disposal. I won’t mention your name.”
Somehow, they’re already outside the library. Noah is dimly aware that they went out the lesser-used side entrance and actually- for a second- wants to smile. He finally manages to talk once they’re safely in Casey’s car. “You don’t have to do any of this.”
Casey goes still, solemn, looking at the steering wheel. “Look. I know we became friends through Luke. And you and I haven’t had a lot of one-on-one time. But Luke’s gone, and you and I are still here. And... and all the shit we’ve gotten into, you didn’t have to be there to help me, or Ali, or Maddie or whoever. You can’t tell me you pitched in just because you were his boyfriend. You’re a part of the gang, got it? You’re my friend. I don’t always realize it, but I’m pretty sure I trust you with just about everything. So you have to trust me too, okay?”
He looks over at Noah, and all Noah can do is nod. “O-okay.”
“Okay, “Casey echoes, starting the car. “Besides,” he smirks. “I’d make a kickass bodyguard.”
---
Casey was looking at him that same way now. Noah thought of everything they’d trusted each other with for the last few years. He’d been the one to pick up the pieces of Casey and Ali’s first engagement, the insane ‘Mick’ debacle, and get them back together. They’d put up with his temper tantrums while he’d been blind. They were the closest friends he’d ever had, besides Luke.
“I don’t know, Case,” he sighed. “It’s just too much right now. We can’t just magically be back together. He- he left me behind, and I’ve been spending the last couple years doing the same.”
“You’ve been trying to,” Casey corrected. “And hey- he wanted to make sweet, sweet love to you last night. Pretty sure he’s not over it either.”
Noah couldn’t help but smile, rolling his eyes. “I can’t just jump right back in. If he decides to leave, that that new life of his is better? I’m not going through that again.”
“Yeah, that was pretty brutal,” Casey casually mused. He sat back in his chair. “Look, I’ll just say this. On behalf of myself and the missus in there,” he hooked a thumb back towards the kitchen, “who’s probably eavesdropping on this, we just want you to be happy.” Ali appeared in the doorway, blushing a little. “Personally, I think Luke could have something to do with that, but whatever. You happy, us happy.”
Noah smiled, took the hug Ali gave him, but inside he just shook his head. He didn’t really believe in happy endings anymore.
***
“Here you go, honey,” Lily appeared next to him with a plate of dishes. “Thank you for dinner.”
“Thanks,” Luke took the dishes from her, rinsing right away, pretending he didn’t notice how she lingered next to him, her hands fidgeting at her sides.
“It’s a nice apartment,” she finally spoke, turning to lean back against the counter and face away from him, as though she were studying the kitchen (for what would be the third time that night).
“Thanks,” he said again, a little less sure this time. It was a nice apartment, the best he could afford on his salary from Grimaldi. It was... enough. For now.
She didn’t even really hesitate with it this time. “Are you sure you don’t want a bigger place, or closer to home? You can use your-”
“Please don’t say trust fund,” he held up a hand, sending a few soap bubbles into the air. (Noah would’ve told him that meant he was using too much soap. But Noah wasn’t here. Luke was tempted to pour in even more soap, right now. Just. Because.)
Lily mom-pouted. “But it’s your money, Luke. It’s yours to use however you want; you’re old enough now.”
“I don’t want to use it just for things I ‘want’, Mom,” he said quietly. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t get rid of it.”
She was silent for a moment. “I couldn’t, for awhile. It was too hard. And then, we- I figured we could keep it as is, move it into the other kids’ accounts at some point, or the foundation, or... I don’t know. It was easier to do nothing.”
“But Grandmother’s money, I thought she’d do something with hers,” he turned to her finally, curious about this one.
Lily winced. “She tried. She was going to give it to someone else, but he wouldn’t accept it.”
Noah. Did all fucking roads have to lead back to Noah? Yes. And why would he turn down Lucinda’s money but accept Damian’s? It didn’t make sense. “Why did she leave?” Luke asked, finally. He’d been dying to know since his first night back too.
Lily shook her head. “Damian bought Worldwide. She couldn’t see that it was... it was to help her. Keep the company secure, give it more financial backing. She couldn’t accept that. And she,” Lily sighed, took a few steps, walked back. “She didn’t approve of some of my choices. And I wasn’t going to let her change my mind. So, when John Dixon offered to take her to Europe,” Lily shrugged, very precise. “She left.” Then she eyed Luke, suspicious. “I would’ve thought she told you all this on the phone.”
Luke frowned. “I tried. She wouldn’t talk about it.” The phone calls he’d had with Lucinda since coming back had been so awkward. Lucinda sounded different. Hardened. Much more like the imperious person she’d always pretended to be. Now, though, Luke couldn’t see through the mask. The only time Lucinda seemed happy was when she talked about John or the letters the kids sent her.
Nothing about the past. They were still a lot alike, weren’t they?
(Noah would point out that Lucinda’s transformation probably had a lot to do with not having Luke around as her shoulder to lean on, her anchor. Luke promptly ignored that.)
“I’m staying here,” he got back to their original discussion. “for now, at least.” It was on the opposite side of town from everyone else- the farm, Damian, the office, Noah. The farthest he could be away without being gone.
Another silence as Lily started helping him dry the dishes. “I miss him every day,” she finally said.
Luke dropped the glass in his hand, cursing when it crashed into the sink and broke, cutting his finger.
“Honey-” Lily reached for his hand.
He yanked it away. “Don’t.” Wrapping a dish towel around the cut, he headed to the bathroom, leaving her behind. By the time he got back, calmer and Band-Aided, the broken glass was cleared away, the rest of the dishes washed and dried. Lily was sitting at his little breakfast table, waiting and expectant.
He sat across from her. “Mom.”
She shook her head. “I do. I miss him. And I still love him. I always will.”
“But he’s gone,” Luke snapped. “And you had no problem with Damian-”
“I needed to not be alone, Luke. Damian, he loves me. It’s why he’s so-”
“Controlling?” If she could interrupt Luke, he could interrupt right back.
“It’s not controlling,” she insisted. “It’s just the only way he knows how to show he cared. He wants to take care of us, that’s all.”
“It’s still not okay for it to be so soon,” he muttered. “Jack said it took like a month before he moved in.”
She deflated a little. “I know. But I was a wreck. Everyone was grieving, Faith was acting out, I needed help. I know Faith and Natalie are still angry about it-” and they probably weren’t the only ones- “But it was the only thing that got me through.”
And on some level, Luke could understand that. But he still hated it.
And Lily could probably see that. “I- I hope, some day, you can forgive me,” she said softly.
It was an opening he didn’t know he’d been looking for until now. “If you do something for me.”
“Anything,” she assured, sitting forward and taking his hand.
“You have to forgive Noah.” Her hand stilled around his, but he grabbed on. “You have to. None of that was his fault, and he’s still paying for it.”
She looked away. “Luke...”
“It wasn’t his fault I was there any more than it was Dad’s fault the truck crashed,” he barreled on. “You can’t be mad at Noah and not mad at him.”
“I was mad at Holden,” she admitted. “I yelled at that stupid barn so many times after.”
Luke had to smile. “Me too.” Only he’d gone back to the cemetery and yelled there. “You have to stop punishing Noah. You love him, Mom, you have from the beginning. And he loves you. You were the first mom-person he ever had.”
There were tears in her eyes, but they weren’t angry so Luke hoped this was working. “It’s just so hard, honey,” she half-whispered. “Everywhere I saw him- working with Damian or going to the farm or taking Ethan to school, I kept thinking it should’ve been you there. And you weren’t.”
“That’s not his fault,” Luke said. “Don’t you think he was trying to do all those things to make up for it?” Suddenly, that’s exactly what Luke was thinking. “You have to stop, Mom. Let go.”
“What about you?” Lily asked, voice still soft. “Are you letting go?”
They sat in silence while Luke tried to figure out his answer. It was silent for a long time.
( CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 4)