FIC: SINS OF THE FATHER 10/15
Title: Sins of the Father
Chapter: 10/15
Author: carolinablu85, also known as CarolinaBlue on vh.net or CarolinaBlu on the wiki (I know, I'm a fountain of creative names)
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Rating: PG 13-ish , mentions of abuse and non-con moments (not graphic)
Spoilers: set in spring 2009, after Luke and Noah battle housing discrimination but before Damian/evil twins. Thus, before the Colonel came back from the dead last year
Summary: A standoff at the hospital, Luke tries to keep a bad situation from getting worse, Noah admits he needs help.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. I own a pair of sneakers, a cellphone, and some other stuff. The show? Nope, not that.
Author's Note: The first major 'epic' story I ever wrote (and finished)!
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9
The kid was frozen. Terrified. And Alan savored it; he was in control. Noah’s insatiably-blue eyes were wide and unblinking, and his breathing (through his nose, since Alan’s hand was still covering his mouth) was shallow and choking. He wasn’t struggling anymore, probably wondering if this was a dream or not. And if Alan could keep him weak with his fear, Noah wouldn’t pose much of a physical threat either. So he continued to talk.
“Did you think it was over, Noah?” he hissed, his free hand reaching for the nurse’s kit in the top drawer of the bedside table. “That we were over?” He found what he was looking for- extra IV tubing. “Did you think you were finally safe?” Noah’s hands had instinctively come up to grasp at the arm that was holding him down, pulling and pushing feebly. It was more annoying than actually threatening, but Alan could do without it.
He removed his hand from Noah’s mouth, but even as Noah took a deep breath, about to yell out, Alan delivered a swift, hard hit to his jaw to stun him momentarily. By the time Noah recovered, Alan was finished tying off the tubing around his wrists, binding his hands together.
The feeling of being trapped again, alone in the dark with this… monster, left Noah shaking and weak. Suddenly he wasn’t sure where he was anymore. The whole rescue, going to the hospital, being with Luke again- had that just been a dream? “No…” he couldn’t get his voice to raise above a soft groan.
Just the way Alan wanted it. He put one hand over Noah’s mouth again to silence him, leaning over so his lips were right next to Noah’s ear. “You really thought you were safe, didn’t you?” He made his voice as low and menacing as possible. “Get it in your head, boy. You’ll never be safe so long as I’m alive. So long as I can get to you.” Noah’s whole body was trembling now, unshed tears making his eyes glassy. And he also wasn’t struggling anymore, as though he was paralyzed.
“Now, you remember how this went last time, don’t you?” Alan asked, more for show than anything else. He loomed over Noah, taking the time to look him up and down and resisting the urge to lick his lips. This time, Noah was all his. And he realized, as he snuck his free hand up under the hem of Noah’s t-shirt to feel the skin underneath, that this time he’d be able to finish what he started.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
He should have been tipped off by the fact that all the blinds were closed. It had been a debate when Noah was first moved to this room- close all the blinds and give him as much privacy as possible, or keep the blinds open so Noah wouldn’t feel shut in. Noah himself had settled the matter when one day Luke returned after lunch to see one side window’s blinds tilted open. He never talked to Noah about it, and of course Noah didn’t say anything, but from then on one set of blinds was always left that way.
Except right now they were all shut, and if Luke had been paying more attention, instead of making mental notes for Noah’s move to the farm, he would have noticed. It wasn’t until he opened the door to Noah’s room that he realized something was wrong. It was almost completely dark except for the faint light coming in from the outside window.
Luke was surprised and a little wary, as Noah couldn’t really deal with total darkness right now. “Noah?” he called out softly as he flipped on the dimmer switch, casting a light glow into the room. What he saw made his heart nearly jump out of his chest.
A man was standing next to Noah’s bed. No, he was halfway on Noah’s bed. Halfway on Noah. He had a hand covering Noah’s mouth, but Luke could hear very soft, timid whimpers coming from the back of his boyfriend’s throat.
In the second that he had to take it all in, Luke just barely registered the fact that Noah’s hands seemed to be tied together and that the t-shirt he had been wearing was ripped jaggedly at the neckline. That there was a dark bruise on his jaw, and his eyes were glazed over and terrified. But the thing that caused Luke to act was seeing Alan (this had to be Alan) with his hand pulling at the drawstring of Noah’s hospital-scrub pants.
“No!” Luke ran forward without thinking, his only thought being to get this bastard away from Noah. Alan let go, startled, and Luke lunged into him with all his might, shoving him away from the bed, knocking Alan to the floor. He leaned over him, punching with everything he had. “Don’t you dare touch him again!”
Alan recovered too quickly, however, and before Luke knew what had happened, he was being slammed up against the far wall, a large hand wrapped around his throat. And suddenly, Luke was face-to-face with the man who had wreaked so much havoc on their lives. It was like the moment in Jaws when they finally saw the shark. (Wow, he was hanging out with Noah too much. Thinking of a movie at a time like this?!)
The guy smirked at him. “So. You must be Luke?”
Luke fought, kicking and struggling like a wild animal. But Alan’s grip on his throat tightened, and Luke was starting to struggle for air. No! He couldn’t. He had to fight. He had to protect himself, he had to protect Noah. “Don’t… touch him,” he gasped. Alan pulled Luke forward just a bit so that he could slam the younger man against the wall again. Hard. Luke was sure he would see little cartoon birds flying around his head any minute now.
And Alan was still smiling. “Little late for that, kid. But,” and his hand closed in even more. Luke knew he had to be turning purple by this point. “I want you to know, as soon as you pass out, I’m going back to your boyfriend. And when I’m finished with him, I’m leaving and taking him with me. By the time anyone finds you here, he’ll be gone.” A calculated, oh-so-casual shrug. “Maybe he already is.”
Luke meant to yell, to scream out curses and threats and a hundred insults about Alan’s mother, but the only thing to come out of his mouth was one very faint choking sound. Oh God, he really was going to pass out. There was a roaring sound in his ears, like a train was passing by too close. His vision was going dark around the edges…
Click.
Both Alan and Luke froze at the sound. It was a very distinct sound, a sound both of them had been unfortunate enough to hear before. The sound of a gun’s safety being removed. Alan loosened his hold on Luke just a fraction as he turned towards the direction of the noise, reaching for his own gun as he did so. But his gun wasn’t tucked into his jeans anymore. It must have fallen out when Luke knocked him over. And now it was pointed at him.
“Noah…” Luke croaked out, trying to pull as much air into his lungs as Alan’s hand would allow.
Noah didn’t answer him. Didn’t even look at him. He was on his knees next to his bed, trembling, hands still tied together. But those hands held the gun Alan had stolen from the cop, and Alan himself was surprised at how expertly and confidently the kid was handling the weapon. “Let him go,” Noah’s voice was quiet, distant, and very serious.
The door burst open at that point, Jack and Holden standing in the doorway. Jack had his gun drawn immediately, and he almost pointed it at Noah until he realized who he was. Then he moved his own weapon in Alan’s direction. “Reddik. Step away, put your hands behind your head.”
Alan wasn’t even listening to him, solely focused on Noah. “What, you think you could actually-”
Everyone in the room flinched when Noah cocked the gun without any hesitation. Everyone but Noah. He kept his gaze calmly on Alan. “Let him go. Now.”
Alan eyed Noah for just a moment before releasing Luke. Luke slid to the floor, coughing harshly. It took everything in Holden not to run and grab his son, pull him out of this mess, but he held his ground. “Luke,” he called softly, holding out a hand and beckoning him over to the safety of the doorway.
But Luke was watching Noah, more than a little concerned. Instead of moving over to Holden and Jack, Luke crawled until he was a few feet from Noah, far enough away from Alan to be out of danger. “Noah,” he kept his voice calm, soothing. “I’m okay. Okay? It’s over.”
Noah was still staring at Alan, everything but his hands shaking. The gun was still pointed intently. “It’s not over,” was all he said.
Jack inched his way closer, scared that Noah might actually pull the trigger and make this whole situation that much worse. “Noah, put the gun down. Please.” Noah didn’t seem to hear him, so Jack turned back to Alan. “Reddik. On your stomach, hands behind your head.” Alan hesitated, about to say something else to Noah, when Jack cocked and re-aimed his own gun, trying to get his attention away from the boys. “Now!”
“Noah,” Luke was still talking, inching his way closer to his boyfriend. “Come on, baby, put the gun down. It’s okay. It’s over. You did it, you saved me, okay? Let Jack take him away. He’ll take him somewhere he can’t hurt us anymore. Understand?”
“Luke,” Holden called out again, this time with a little bit of warning. He knew Noah would never hurt Luke, but he wasn’t sure if Noah was even Noah right now. And he didn’t want Luke near any situation that involved a loaded weapon. He refused to look at the… the thing that was still captured in Noah’s sights. The thing that had tortured this boy, and had almost just killed his son. If Holden looked at him, thought about him, he’d be tempted to encourage Noah to pull the trigger.
Luke just shook his head at his dad, his own eyes never straying from Noah. “Put it down. Please, Noah. It’s over.”
“It’ll never be over,” Noah murmured, still so distant. He wasn’t even listening anymore. He was slipping away from Luke. From everything. The only thing he could be sure of was the weight of the gun in his hands, how if he squeezed his right hand just a third of an inch, he could put an end to this man. A part of Noah- the only part of him still functioning- really wanted to do it. To end everything. Otherwise Alan was right; it’ll never be over.
“It can be,” Luke replied, trying to keep the desperation out of his tone. He scooted the tiniest bit closer. “Look at me, Noah. Just look at me, not him. Come on.” Noah shook his head, but Luke could see him bite his lower lip, wincing slightly. His Noah was in there somewhere, hiding and scared. But to him, Alan was still a threat, and Noah was going to keep his guard up for as long as possible.
“It is over, Noah. Just put the gun down. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to… hurt someone.” He couldn’t say kill. He couldn’t. “You’re not like him, and you’re not like your father. You’re better than all of them.” Did Noah just lower the gun a little?
Luke continued, talking faster. If Noah pulled that trigger, there’d be no coming back from that. “You’ve already done enough. He’s caught, okay? I’m safe. I’m right here. Let Jack take him.” He couldn’t believe his Noah, his sweet, dorky, brings-flowers-to-Emma-every-Sunday Noah, was about to shoot someone. If he did this, Luke would lose him, forever. “Please, love. Please.”
Noah took several deep, slow breaths, blinking furiously. Then finally, finally, he lowered the gun. Luke felt like he was literally deflating and was about one more crisis away from dissolving onto the floor in a puddle of pre-adolescent tears. Two cops- Luke had no idea how long they’d been there- rushed over, shoving Alan to the floor and cuffing his hands behind his back. Alan winced as the motion pulled at his wound, but turned his head to look at Noah and Luke.
Jack holstered his own gun and cautiously moved to stand in front of them, conveniently blocking them from Alan’s sight. “Give me the gun, Noah.” He held his hand out, face carefully expressionless. Noah closed his eyes and, without opening them, smoothly ejected the clip from the gun, let the bullet in the chamber drop to the floor, and handed the pieces over. Luke could only stare in shock, impressed in spite of himself. When did my boyfriend turn into Dirty Harry?
Alan found himself laughing. “Like I said, Noah. As long as I’m alive, you’re-”
His words were cut off when a boot connected with his jaw, nearly knocking some teeth out. “Oh, sorry,” Jack grunted. “These hospital floors, always so slippery.” Nodding to the two cops. “Get him out of here. I want him in a cell in lockup in the next thirty minutes.”
Luke turned his attention back to Noah, whose eyes were still closed. He was still quiet. Luke could see new bruises and marks on his neck and chest through the rip in his shirt. God, no. He didn’t bother saying anything, just gently touched Noah’s shoulders, pulling him sideways until he rested against Luke. He very very tenderly brought the bound hands into his lap, yanking apart what he recognized as IV tubing and freeing Noah’s wrists.
When Noah’s hand tentatively came up to touch Luke’s, it was as if a switch had been thrown. The adrenaline wore off, and Luke was nearly capsized by all that had happened in the last twenty minutes. What had almost happened to him, what had almost happened to Noah… He let out one quiet sob and drew Noah fully against him, cradling him to his chest. “Oh God, Noah, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Noah didn’t exactly respond to the touch, but he didn’t pull away either.
Another pair of arms encircled both boys, and Luke didn’t have to look to know it was Holden. He buried his face in Noah’s hair and breathed in the scent of him- alive and almost whole- while leaning them both into his dad’s embrace. He continued to whisper “I’m sorry” over and over again as Holden held the both of them, hoping it would be enough to keep both boys safe for a little while longer.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“I’m fine,” Luke insisted, even as Holden and Bob pushed him back onto the cot. His ever-trusty rollaway cot, which now held both Luke and a sleeping Noah. Well, sleeping wasn’t the right word- sedated. Doctor Hughes had decided to sedate Noah after an attempt to get him back to bed and examine him had led to Noah freaking out and almost running out on them. He hadn’t wanted anyone near him, and he definitely hadn’t wanted to be in that bed again.
He wasn’t letting anyone but Luke touch him right now, which was perfectly fine with Luke. After actually seeing Alan with his hands on Noah, Luke was refusing to grant anyone the right to touch his boyfriend. So now Noah was lying on his side, clad in a new t-shirt and his own sweatpants. His eyes were shut tight and he was very still, facing Luke even in his sleep. And Luke was sitting up next to him, arguing that he didn’t need to be examined either.
“You’ve got a pretty impressive ring of bruises around your throat that say differently, son,” Dr. Bob commented. He pulled out his stethoscope. “Just take a couple of deep breaths for me. I want to see if your airway is inflamed at all.”
Luke opened his mouth to protest again, but Holden squeezed his shoulder firmly. “Luke. Let him.” Luke realized Holden hadn’t really let go of him since that hug on the floor. His dad was just as freaked out as he was. The least Luke could do was humor him by getting checked out.
“Alright,” Dr. Bob said a few minutes later. “Nothing sounds damaged, but your neck’s going to be sore for a few days. I suggest some compresses to keep the swelling down. And I’ll send a nurse in with some aspirin for that and the bump on the back of your head.”
Luke nodded absent-mindedly as the doctor left the room, already turning back to watch over Noah. He let one hand rest in his hair, tracing the dark curls slowly with his finger tips, not caring that his dad could see the rather intimate gesture. Right now, he didn’t care too much about anything.
“Hey,” a hushed voice called from the doorway. Jack walked over to them, pulling up chairs for both him and Holden. The men sat down on the same side of the bed, closest to Luke. Jack reluctantly prepared to answer the questions he knew Luke had, but was interrupted by a nurse coming in to drop off aspirin.
Luke swallowed the pills with a big gulp of water, grimacing a little as the bruises on his neck made themselves known. Then he turned his attention back to his cousin. “How did he get free?”
Jack looked very sad and very angry. “He’d been faking sedation for at least two days. He was a medic in the Army, he knew how to deal with IVs and stuff. After one of the shift changes, he attacked his guard. Dallas.”
“He okay?” Holden cut in quickly, worriedly. They didn’t need anything else bad happening right now.
Jack nodded. “He will be. He’s got a hell of a head wound, docs are keeping him at least overnight, but they say he’ll be fine.” He turned back to Luke. “When Dallas came to, he called it in to the station and told security to come here. Your dad and I were just leaving the cafeteria and saw the commotion.” Luke nodded, mentally added Dallas to the list of people his foundation would be buying private islands for. “So that’s our side of the story, Luke,” Jack continued. “You okay to tell us yours?”
Luke could only stare for a few seconds, watching the rise and fall of Noah’s chest. “Yeah,” he said quietly. Too quietly, even for him to hear.
“Luke?” Holden prodded.
He cleared his throat painfully, not sure if it had anything to do with his bruises. “Yeah,” he said again, louder. Against his will he turned away from Noah, though one hand stayed in his hair. He told them what had happened, having to nearly spit out the description of Alan all over Noah, having to stop himself from wondering what exactly had happened when Noah was trapped in the basement with Alan. No, no, no, not thinking about that. No way.
“Luke… when Alan attacked you, did he…” Jack took a deep, uncomfortable breath. “Did he try anything…?”
Luke was confused for a fraction of a second before the understanding hit him. “No! Oh, God, no. He didn’t. He didn’t even want to, he told me so.” Both Jack and Holden breathed very audible sighs of relief. But Luke couldn’t share in it. “And he told me… he told me what he was going to do to Noah as soon as I passed out.” The look on his face stopped either man from asking for specifics. They all looked over at Noah instead.
“You think he’ll be alright?” Jack ventured. “I mean, I know this is a… a setback, but it’s still fixable. Right?” Neither Holden nor Luke could answer.
Finally Luke looked up again. “I definitely want him at the farm. As soon as possible. He won’t feel safe here anymore.” I don’t feel safe here anymore either, he wanted to add. Noah shifted a little under his hand, and Luke shushed him, petting his hair, whispering that everything was okay. When he turned back to the two men, he was surprised to see they were standing. “What-?”
“We’re going to let you two get some sleep,” Holden explained. Softer, “I have to tell your mom what happened. I think it’d be better to do it in person and not on the phone. We’ll probably both be back later tonight.”
“I’m going to check in with everything at the station, maybe come back and sit with Dallas for awhile,” Jack chimed in. “You can call me if you need anything.”
Luke meant to thank them, reassure them he was fine, something, but he was suddenly so exhausted that he just didn’t want to. He nodded with a jaw-cracking yawn, scooting down on the cot until he fully lying down, level with his boyfriend.
He turned onto his side so he was facing Noah, content for the time being to simply look at him. He could pretend, in this dark and quiet room, that he was in his bedroom at his mother’s house with Noah simply sleeping next to him. And they were both okay, healthy, happy.
As though he knew he was being watched, Noah stirred a little, frowning briefly before his eyes opened slowly. “Luke?” he drew the one syllable out heavily.
Luke was surprised, the drugs were supposed to keep Noah knocked out for a few more hours. “Hey there, Mayer.” He placed his hand down directly between them so Noah could see it, then moved it up to his face, rubbing his thumb against Noah’s stubbly jaw line.
Noah halfway smiled at the contact for a moment before frowning sluggishly. “You’re hurt?” He was looking at the bruises on Luke’s neck. He tried to move his own hand up to touch them but could only work up the energy to get his hand to Luke’s arm.
Luke stared deeply into Noah’s eyes, trying to gauge how aware he was. Those eyes that he loved so much were cloudy now, heavy-lidded and blinking frequently. He smiled soothingly. “No, I’m not. I’m fine.”
“Your throat,” Noah insisted, determined.
Luke shrugged his free shoulder. “You don’t like it? I thought we could have a matching set, his-and-his neck bruises.”
It took Noah a very long time to process that comment, and if ever there was a possibility for a drugged-up trauma victim to roll his eyes, Noah Mayer found a way. “Silly,” he mumbled, eyes closing a little more.
Luke grinned genuinely, liking how it felt to do that. He felt some of the tension from the last couple hours seeping away. Noah was safe, they were both safe and both going to be fine, Luke was sure of it. It wouldn’t be easy, of course, but right now Luke was starting to feel like it would definitely happen. “C’mere, love,” he softened his voice even more.
Noah opened his eyes again, studying Luke, trying to figure out what he just said. Then he half-smiled again, and both boys inched their way closer to each other until Luke was on his back and Noah was on his stomach, one arm slung across Luke’s midsection, his head on Luke’s shoulder. Luke watched as Noah’s eyes began closing again, his head turning even more to the side with a soft sigh. “Luke?” he asked softly, already half-asleep.
“Yeah?” His chin dropped onto Noah’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck a little.
Noah tried to smile drowsily. “I really, really love you.”
“Oh, you do?” he teased lightly. Half-asleep Noah was always a source of fun, and it looked like, despite the horrible situation, drugged-up Noah was going to be just as adorable.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” he continued mumbling.
“I’m not.”
“Ever.”
“I won’t,” Luke was somewhere between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Noah winced a little, this time definitely from physical discomfort as fresh bruises protested his movement, and he readjusted his body to get more comfortable on the narrow cot. “I don’t want it to be true.” He didn’t seem to be talking to Luke anymore.
“Don’t want what to be true?” Luke had no idea where this had come from. Or where it was going. Should he be scared?
“You’re going to leave me when you find out…” he sighed.
“Find out?” Okay, Luke was starting to get scared. But then Noah’s hand came up to rub at one of the ugly bruises near his collar bone, one that happened to be accompanied by teeth marks. Luke let out a breath, his hand covering Noah’s. “Not your fault, baby. I’m not going to leave you.”
“He said…” Noah’s voice cracked.
“Who?”
“Colonel. He said you wouldn’t want me now. Said I was asking for it…” Noah’s voice was fading.
Luke felt his heart drop down to his stomach. Not only had Alan attacked and abused Noah, but Colonel Mayer had given his consent? Had used it as punishment, or to teach a lesson?! Luke had to stop himself from shaking in rage at that, not wanting to upset Noah further. “Noah,” he sighed the name. “You know none of what he said is true, right?” No answer. “Right?”
The drugs had kicked in again. Noah was fast asleep, breathing deeply, the puffs of air hitting Luke on the upper chest and warming his skin through his shirt. He sighed, telling himself it didn’t matter, Noah was still going to get better. To hell with the damn Colonel. He brought his own hand up to lace their fingers together and finally allowed himself to fall into a deep, hopefully dreamless sleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Marcus was starting to get frustrated. As a long-time therapist, he knew the importance of patience, of keeping his cool when up against seemingly impossible odds. And yet, for the first time in many, many years, he felt like reaching up and tearing out the little hair he had left on his head. Why couldn’t he make this work? Was he really getting that old? Was he not up to this challenge?
“Damn iPod…” he grumbled, trying yet again (he really was glutton for punishment) to transfer songs from his computer to this mp3 player. “Damn technology…” The error message flashed across his screen again, mocking him. “Damn kids and their damn…” It just felt good to say. And it was his granddaughter who had gotten him this silly contraption, so in a way it was her fault.
He was just about to start yelling about kids ruining his lawn when there was soft knock on the door. He took a moment to calm himself. “Come in.” Thank God he took that moment, because otherwise he might have let the surprise he felt show on his face when Noah Mayer stepped into his office.
“Hi,” the boy said awkwardly, standing just inside the doorway as though he had to be ready to make a run for it. Marcus wondered if that was because he was uncomfortable in the presence of a therapist or if that was just his standard state of being anymore.
“Noah, hello.” He smiled genuinely but not too widely. He didn’t want his potential patient to think he was trying to be best friends right away. He didn’t want to scare him off again. “Would you like to sit down?”
He hesitated, glancing around the office, eyeing the posters and pictures on the walls, the large comfy leather couch covered in pillows, the organized chaos that was Marcus’s desk. He looked back at Marcus with the same calculating eye before nodding and moving in closer. He didn’t sit full on the couch though, just perched on the arm. Marcus noted he was moving slowly, very careful and deliberate with his actions. He winced a little before his body settled down. The latest encounter with his attacker must have left some bruises, more than a few.
“I’ll be honest, Noah. I was going to come see you today, try my pitch again. I heard you’re leaving the hospital this afternoon.” Bob had given him the heads up yesterday when he stopped by to tell Marcus about this latest incident. He really felt for the kid; it just seemed to get worse at every turn.
Noah nodded, looking down at his hands. “They say I’m well enough to go home, so…”
It was the most he’d ever heard Noah say in one breath. “Do you feel well enough?” He refrained from leaning forward, not wanting to crowd Noah even from the other side of his desk.
Noah shrugged, a very practiced gesture. “I guess. I’m not sick anymore, so it makes sense.”
“Well, how do you feel right now?” Marcus pressed gently.
Another shrug. “If… if I was okay I wouldn’t be here, right? I don’t know.”
Marcus nodded, sitting back in his chair. “First time I met you, you didn’t even want me in the same room as you, remember? I seem to recall you throwing me out.” He smiled, but Noah was still avoiding eye contact and missed the joke.
“I’m sorry,” he was becoming hesitant, withdrawing again.
Marcus rushed to pull him back. “I didn’t mean that as a rebuke, Noah. I meant it as a sign of progress. You came to see me, by yourself. In my opinion, that means you’re getting better.”
Noah scoffed ever so slightly. “Personal or professional opinion? There’s usually a difference,” he muttered, seemingly without meaning to. Marcus’s smile was much wider now, though Noah still couldn’t see it. There he was- it was the most personality he’d seen out of Noah yet. He was still himself in there somewhere, the boy just didn’t realize it yet.
“Both, actually,” he finally replied. One side of Noah’s mouth attempted a polite smile in return. Marcus readied himself with a deep breath. “Look, Noah, Bob told me a little of what happened yester-”
“I almost killed him,” Noah’s voice was quiet, but it cut into the air like steel.
“Your attacker?” Marcus clarified.
Noah nodded, his eyes roaming the office, looking at everything but the therapist. He settled on staring at an old photograph framed on a nearby shelf. The man and woman in it looked somewhat familiar, but Noah couldn’t work up the energy to try and place them. “Two weeks ago, I never even would’ve thought- thought that I could- that I…” he struggled with himself.
Marcus kept quiet, watching him intently. Noah traced a bruise on his wrist with his other hand. “He was going to hurt Luke, and I couldn’t let that happen. I wasn’t thinking then, just reacting: He had Luke and there was a gun right there and…” Noah took in a shuddering breath.
“Sounds like-” Marcus’s tone must have been too gentle, because Noah grimaced, his eyes flashing a brighter blue defensively.
“The thing is,” he continued as though Marcus hadn’t said a word. “When Luke was safe, and I still had the gun pointed at… I was thinking then. Clearly. And I wanted to kill him. I wanted to finish it.” He finally looked directly at the doctor. Based on his words, Marcus would’ve thought his face would be full of fire, anger, maybe even hate. But Noah once again threw a curve ball at him, and all he saw on the boy’s face was despair, shame, and real fear. “Is this how I’m gonna feel from now on?” he asked, sounding frail.
Marcus took a moment to choose his words carefully before answering. “Not if you don’t want to,” he responded. “You can fix yourself, Noah. I know for a fact that you can.” He watched, holding himself quiet then, as a battle waged inside his potential patient. Ah hell, who was he kidding? His patient. He was going to be a part of this recovery whether he was welcome or not!
Noah mulled many things- a lifetime’s worth of things- over in his head, unconsciously chewing on his lower lip. Marcus gave him the time. When he looked back up, Marcus could see that his eyes were a little bit clearer. He wouldn’t call it determination, but it was a start. “Well? What are you going to do?”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Holden pulled the car up next to the porch and took his time shutting off the engine before he turned to look behind him. Unlike Lily, who was already twisted around and staring into the backseat. Holden smiled at her and turned his own head.
Luke and Noah were both asleep, holding hands, Luke’s head resting on Noah’s shoulder. It was a scene Holden had looked upon many times, and if it weren’t for the bruises visible on both boys he could almost believe everything was right in the world.
But then, as though God just had to prove him wrong right then and there, Noah flinched in his sleep, gripping Luke’s hand tighter. Luke woke up immediately, glancing around startled for a second before focusing on Noah, kissing his forehead lightly. By the time he looked up at his parents, both Holden and Lily were getting out of the car, hiding their sadness and pretending to be distracted by unloading the car of duffel bags.
Luke wasn’t fooled, but he didn’t want his mom and dad to know that. He looked back at Noah again, who was just waking up himself. “We’re here?” he asked groggily, blinking and yawning.
“Yup,” Luke whispered, running his thumb along the hand that was clutched in his. Noah nodded, rubbing his eyes like a little boy waking up from a nap. Luke couldn’t help but kiss him again. When he did stuff like that, Luke didn’t stand a chance. “You ready?” he asked, opening his door. After another nod, Luke hopped out of the car and hurried over to Noah’s side as his boyfriend climbed out too.
While they were both standing there, gratefully inhaling the smells and sounds of the farm, Holden and Lily took their bags inside, giving them the moment alone. Luke could see the nervousness on Noah’s face, having to face people he hadn’t consciously been around since before the kidnapping. He wanted so badly to wrap an arm around Noah as they walked to the porch, but he was unsure if it would be smothering him.
But then, even as he reached for Noah’s hand to offer a little comfort, Noah stepped in even closer and leaned into Luke’s body a little- their old unspoken request for a hug. He couldn’t help but grin, pulling Noah to him, relishing in the warmth their bodies produced together. He could feel Noah let out the breath he’d unconsciously been holding in.
“I’m glad you’re here, Luke,” Noah said softly. And then he did something that surprised both of them- he kissed Luke on the cheek. For the first time since his rescue, he initiated a kiss on his own.
By this point, Luke was getting used to emotions completely overwhelming him. Worry, helplessness, anger- they had been hitting him like tidal waves. But the fact that it was happiness that filled him now felt so incredibly good. His smile got impossibly wider, and he brought both hands up to Noah’s face, bringing it down so their foreheads touched. He was going to say something cute, something loving, but he realized as they looked into each other’s eyes (Noah was looking into his eyes!) that he didn’t need to. He had learned long ago- Noah had shown him long ago- that there were an infinite number of ways to say I love you.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Dinner was thankfully quick and uneventful. Noah had been understandably quiet and for the most part everyone left him in peace, except to encourage him to eat a little more and remind him to take his meds. He even managed a genuine smile for Emma, which nearly left her in a giant puddle of tears that she hid well enough from everyone but Holden.
While Luke took Noah upstairs to help him shower and get to bed- too much excitement for one day had Noah almost falling asleep at the table- Holden followed his mother over to the sink as she began washing dishes. “Mama?”
She just shook her head, not looking up from the soapy water. Holden leaned against the counter next to her, waiting. “They’re both still so hurt,” she finally whispered. “Lord knows they’re trying, but… A part of me thought that coming home from the hospital meant everything was all better. Foolish, I know, but I can’t-”
“It’s not foolish,” he protested quietly. “It’s not foolish to want your family to be well and whole. That’s a consequence of loving them.”
Tears burned her eyes again. “I just didn’t expect them to still be so hurt,” she tried to explain. Because while Noah was grievously wounded, inside and out, she could see the damage in Luke as well, and she wasn’t just talking about those ugly bruises around his neck.
“I’m worried about Luke too,” Holden murmured, knowing what she was thinking about, just like always. Emma finally turned to look at her son as he continued. “He’s got an almost… pathological need to watch over Noah right now, especially after what happened yesterday. He needs to take a break from worrying, or they’re both just going to suffer more for it. I’m worried they’ll get too dependent on each other.” He gave his mother a quick but warm hug. “But we did get over one hurdle today- Noah went to talk to Dr. Weston on his own. He’s going to start counseling in two days.”
“He accepted help,” Emma let out a relieved breath, almost not ready to believe something that good had actually happened. “He asked for help.”
Holden smiled. “Which is one of the hardest things to do. If Noah can do that, there’s no reason to think he can’t get through all of this. And if we can get Luke to see he needs help too, then everything will work out.” He gave her a sweet, silly kiss on the cheek. “I’d bet the farm on it.”
“Oh, you,” she swatted his shoulder with the dish rag, smiling in spite of herself. Maybe Holden was right. Maybe everything would turn out fine. She still had worries about her family, but right now her time would probably be better spent planning the biggest breakfast the Snyder family had ever seen…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Luke tore out another sheet of paper, balling it up and tossing it aside in true cliché-frustrated-writer fashion. He had thought that some writing would be good for him right now- he hadn’t done all that much lately. To be honest, he hadn’t really written for fun since this latest semester started. The first full semester in which he wasn’t a college student.
Luke didn’t want to admit it, but he missed OU sometimes. He missed his writing classes. He missed his professor, his advisor, he even missed the pretentious thick-framed-glasses-wearing student in the Decemberists t-shirt who always talked about “finding the truth” in his stories.
The truth for Luke was he missed that rush of writing something down, of getting a new assignment and having to push himself to be creative by someone else’s rules, of finding the perfect combination of words that said something new. Luke missed all of that.
But he didn’t miss school. And he couldn’t figure out how to tell his family that. They both were subtly and not-so-subtly dropping hints that he should try to go back. Noah did too, but he always backed off quickly. And he never talked about his own classes, his teachers, his friends in the film department. Luke wasn’t sure if he never brought it up because he thought it would sadden Luke or piss him off.
And now Luke wouldn’t be able to find out, as Noah was taking the rest of this semester off on medical leave. He knew Noah was going to hate being out of the editing lab for this long- the image of a crack addict going too long without a fix came to mind- but everyone, including Noah, knew it was for the best right now. And speaking of not talking about painful subjects…
He sighed a little, tossing the notebook aside (not the computer, it was always more fun and organic to write something new with pen and paper) and settled down fully on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He wondered when the time would come that Noah would be able to talk about everything that had happened to him. And if he himself would be ready to hear it.
Noah had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow a few hours ago. He had been so exhausted, mentally and physically, that Luke had had to pretty much prop him up in the shower. It had been such a strange experience. There was nothing remotely sexual about it, but Luke couldn’t help but admire how beautiful Noah was, even in this state. Just so achingly beautiful, Luke couldn’t look away. It was the first time he’d seen Noah naked since the kidnapping, and God he loved that body more than pretty much anything else on Earth.
But it was also the first time he’d seen the extent of the bruising on his body. Noah’s hips and the upper parts of his amazingly long legs had been discolored and marred; Luke had almost been afraid to touch him. Too many of the bruises looked too much like handprints, and if he actually thought about Alan touching Noah there, especially now that he had a visual to go along with it…
He was finding it harder and harder to let Noah out of his sight. What if something else happened to him? Something that finally made him snap? Noah was slowly trying to get better, but what if it wasn’t enough? What if Luke wasn’t enough to help him get through it?
Another rather impressive sigh, and Luke finally turned off his bedside lamp and burrowed under his comforter. His bed was so incredibly comfortable after those night on his friend, the rollaway cot. (He had been one more night away from giving it a name. Maybe Fred.) And yet, Luke wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep tonight. He and Noah were in separate rooms now. How was Noah doing, was he okay?
A few more minutes of tossing and turning, and suddenly his bedroom door creaked open. Luke stilled immediately, wondering if it was his Grandma coming in to check on him. But when the door shut and the person stepped closer without saying a word, Luke knew who it was. He opened his eyes quickly and rolled over, pulling back his comforter so Noah could climb in next to him.
His boyfriend did so silently, gingerly, obviously still a little sore. They both lay on their sides, facing each other. Luke frowned when Noah finally looked at him. His eyes were panicked, wild. “Bad dream?” he whispered. Noah nodded before moving closer, pressing his forehead into the middle of Luke’s chest, breathing heavily.
Luke stayed still, letting Noah get whatever it was he needed. “I’m here, I’m right here,” he murmured, glad in a way that Noah had sought him out, wasn’t trying to deal on his own. He moved a little then, raking his fingers through Noah’s hair when he sighed and relaxed against Luke, forehead still resting at his chest.
Noah’s hand worked its way up to grasp the front of Luke’s shirt. Then he just held on, like Linus clutching his blue blanket. “Good night Luke,” he mumbled, more into the fabric than anything else.
Luke smiled sleepily, finally feeling like he could get some rest, now that Noah was here. Sorry Fred, looks like I don’t need you after all. He wrapped an arm lightly around his boyfriend and pulled the comforter over both of them. “Good night Noah.”
TO BE CONTINUED! Coming Up: Holden and Luke argue, Noah starts therapy and bonds with someone unexpected...
Chapter: 10/15
Author: carolinablu85, also known as CarolinaBlue on vh.net or CarolinaBlu on the wiki (I know, I'm a fountain of creative names)
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Rating: PG 13-ish , mentions of abuse and non-con moments (not graphic)
Spoilers: set in spring 2009, after Luke and Noah battle housing discrimination but before Damian/evil twins. Thus, before the Colonel came back from the dead last year
Summary: A standoff at the hospital, Luke tries to keep a bad situation from getting worse, Noah admits he needs help.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. I own a pair of sneakers, a cellphone, and some other stuff. The show? Nope, not that.
Author's Note: The first major 'epic' story I ever wrote (and finished)!
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9
The kid was frozen. Terrified. And Alan savored it; he was in control. Noah’s insatiably-blue eyes were wide and unblinking, and his breathing (through his nose, since Alan’s hand was still covering his mouth) was shallow and choking. He wasn’t struggling anymore, probably wondering if this was a dream or not. And if Alan could keep him weak with his fear, Noah wouldn’t pose much of a physical threat either. So he continued to talk.
“Did you think it was over, Noah?” he hissed, his free hand reaching for the nurse’s kit in the top drawer of the bedside table. “That we were over?” He found what he was looking for- extra IV tubing. “Did you think you were finally safe?” Noah’s hands had instinctively come up to grasp at the arm that was holding him down, pulling and pushing feebly. It was more annoying than actually threatening, but Alan could do without it.
He removed his hand from Noah’s mouth, but even as Noah took a deep breath, about to yell out, Alan delivered a swift, hard hit to his jaw to stun him momentarily. By the time Noah recovered, Alan was finished tying off the tubing around his wrists, binding his hands together.
The feeling of being trapped again, alone in the dark with this… monster, left Noah shaking and weak. Suddenly he wasn’t sure where he was anymore. The whole rescue, going to the hospital, being with Luke again- had that just been a dream? “No…” he couldn’t get his voice to raise above a soft groan.
Just the way Alan wanted it. He put one hand over Noah’s mouth again to silence him, leaning over so his lips were right next to Noah’s ear. “You really thought you were safe, didn’t you?” He made his voice as low and menacing as possible. “Get it in your head, boy. You’ll never be safe so long as I’m alive. So long as I can get to you.” Noah’s whole body was trembling now, unshed tears making his eyes glassy. And he also wasn’t struggling anymore, as though he was paralyzed.
“Now, you remember how this went last time, don’t you?” Alan asked, more for show than anything else. He loomed over Noah, taking the time to look him up and down and resisting the urge to lick his lips. This time, Noah was all his. And he realized, as he snuck his free hand up under the hem of Noah’s t-shirt to feel the skin underneath, that this time he’d be able to finish what he started.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
He should have been tipped off by the fact that all the blinds were closed. It had been a debate when Noah was first moved to this room- close all the blinds and give him as much privacy as possible, or keep the blinds open so Noah wouldn’t feel shut in. Noah himself had settled the matter when one day Luke returned after lunch to see one side window’s blinds tilted open. He never talked to Noah about it, and of course Noah didn’t say anything, but from then on one set of blinds was always left that way.
Except right now they were all shut, and if Luke had been paying more attention, instead of making mental notes for Noah’s move to the farm, he would have noticed. It wasn’t until he opened the door to Noah’s room that he realized something was wrong. It was almost completely dark except for the faint light coming in from the outside window.
Luke was surprised and a little wary, as Noah couldn’t really deal with total darkness right now. “Noah?” he called out softly as he flipped on the dimmer switch, casting a light glow into the room. What he saw made his heart nearly jump out of his chest.
A man was standing next to Noah’s bed. No, he was halfway on Noah’s bed. Halfway on Noah. He had a hand covering Noah’s mouth, but Luke could hear very soft, timid whimpers coming from the back of his boyfriend’s throat.
In the second that he had to take it all in, Luke just barely registered the fact that Noah’s hands seemed to be tied together and that the t-shirt he had been wearing was ripped jaggedly at the neckline. That there was a dark bruise on his jaw, and his eyes were glazed over and terrified. But the thing that caused Luke to act was seeing Alan (this had to be Alan) with his hand pulling at the drawstring of Noah’s hospital-scrub pants.
“No!” Luke ran forward without thinking, his only thought being to get this bastard away from Noah. Alan let go, startled, and Luke lunged into him with all his might, shoving him away from the bed, knocking Alan to the floor. He leaned over him, punching with everything he had. “Don’t you dare touch him again!”
Alan recovered too quickly, however, and before Luke knew what had happened, he was being slammed up against the far wall, a large hand wrapped around his throat. And suddenly, Luke was face-to-face with the man who had wreaked so much havoc on their lives. It was like the moment in Jaws when they finally saw the shark. (Wow, he was hanging out with Noah too much. Thinking of a movie at a time like this?!)
The guy smirked at him. “So. You must be Luke?”
Luke fought, kicking and struggling like a wild animal. But Alan’s grip on his throat tightened, and Luke was starting to struggle for air. No! He couldn’t. He had to fight. He had to protect himself, he had to protect Noah. “Don’t… touch him,” he gasped. Alan pulled Luke forward just a bit so that he could slam the younger man against the wall again. Hard. Luke was sure he would see little cartoon birds flying around his head any minute now.
And Alan was still smiling. “Little late for that, kid. But,” and his hand closed in even more. Luke knew he had to be turning purple by this point. “I want you to know, as soon as you pass out, I’m going back to your boyfriend. And when I’m finished with him, I’m leaving and taking him with me. By the time anyone finds you here, he’ll be gone.” A calculated, oh-so-casual shrug. “Maybe he already is.”
Luke meant to yell, to scream out curses and threats and a hundred insults about Alan’s mother, but the only thing to come out of his mouth was one very faint choking sound. Oh God, he really was going to pass out. There was a roaring sound in his ears, like a train was passing by too close. His vision was going dark around the edges…
Click.
Both Alan and Luke froze at the sound. It was a very distinct sound, a sound both of them had been unfortunate enough to hear before. The sound of a gun’s safety being removed. Alan loosened his hold on Luke just a fraction as he turned towards the direction of the noise, reaching for his own gun as he did so. But his gun wasn’t tucked into his jeans anymore. It must have fallen out when Luke knocked him over. And now it was pointed at him.
“Noah…” Luke croaked out, trying to pull as much air into his lungs as Alan’s hand would allow.
Noah didn’t answer him. Didn’t even look at him. He was on his knees next to his bed, trembling, hands still tied together. But those hands held the gun Alan had stolen from the cop, and Alan himself was surprised at how expertly and confidently the kid was handling the weapon. “Let him go,” Noah’s voice was quiet, distant, and very serious.
The door burst open at that point, Jack and Holden standing in the doorway. Jack had his gun drawn immediately, and he almost pointed it at Noah until he realized who he was. Then he moved his own weapon in Alan’s direction. “Reddik. Step away, put your hands behind your head.”
Alan wasn’t even listening to him, solely focused on Noah. “What, you think you could actually-”
Everyone in the room flinched when Noah cocked the gun without any hesitation. Everyone but Noah. He kept his gaze calmly on Alan. “Let him go. Now.”
Alan eyed Noah for just a moment before releasing Luke. Luke slid to the floor, coughing harshly. It took everything in Holden not to run and grab his son, pull him out of this mess, but he held his ground. “Luke,” he called softly, holding out a hand and beckoning him over to the safety of the doorway.
But Luke was watching Noah, more than a little concerned. Instead of moving over to Holden and Jack, Luke crawled until he was a few feet from Noah, far enough away from Alan to be out of danger. “Noah,” he kept his voice calm, soothing. “I’m okay. Okay? It’s over.”
Noah was still staring at Alan, everything but his hands shaking. The gun was still pointed intently. “It’s not over,” was all he said.
Jack inched his way closer, scared that Noah might actually pull the trigger and make this whole situation that much worse. “Noah, put the gun down. Please.” Noah didn’t seem to hear him, so Jack turned back to Alan. “Reddik. On your stomach, hands behind your head.” Alan hesitated, about to say something else to Noah, when Jack cocked and re-aimed his own gun, trying to get his attention away from the boys. “Now!”
“Noah,” Luke was still talking, inching his way closer to his boyfriend. “Come on, baby, put the gun down. It’s okay. It’s over. You did it, you saved me, okay? Let Jack take him away. He’ll take him somewhere he can’t hurt us anymore. Understand?”
“Luke,” Holden called out again, this time with a little bit of warning. He knew Noah would never hurt Luke, but he wasn’t sure if Noah was even Noah right now. And he didn’t want Luke near any situation that involved a loaded weapon. He refused to look at the… the thing that was still captured in Noah’s sights. The thing that had tortured this boy, and had almost just killed his son. If Holden looked at him, thought about him, he’d be tempted to encourage Noah to pull the trigger.
Luke just shook his head at his dad, his own eyes never straying from Noah. “Put it down. Please, Noah. It’s over.”
“It’ll never be over,” Noah murmured, still so distant. He wasn’t even listening anymore. He was slipping away from Luke. From everything. The only thing he could be sure of was the weight of the gun in his hands, how if he squeezed his right hand just a third of an inch, he could put an end to this man. A part of Noah- the only part of him still functioning- really wanted to do it. To end everything. Otherwise Alan was right; it’ll never be over.
“It can be,” Luke replied, trying to keep the desperation out of his tone. He scooted the tiniest bit closer. “Look at me, Noah. Just look at me, not him. Come on.” Noah shook his head, but Luke could see him bite his lower lip, wincing slightly. His Noah was in there somewhere, hiding and scared. But to him, Alan was still a threat, and Noah was going to keep his guard up for as long as possible.
“It is over, Noah. Just put the gun down. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to… hurt someone.” He couldn’t say kill. He couldn’t. “You’re not like him, and you’re not like your father. You’re better than all of them.” Did Noah just lower the gun a little?
Luke continued, talking faster. If Noah pulled that trigger, there’d be no coming back from that. “You’ve already done enough. He’s caught, okay? I’m safe. I’m right here. Let Jack take him.” He couldn’t believe his Noah, his sweet, dorky, brings-flowers-to-Emma-every-Sunday Noah, was about to shoot someone. If he did this, Luke would lose him, forever. “Please, love. Please.”
Noah took several deep, slow breaths, blinking furiously. Then finally, finally, he lowered the gun. Luke felt like he was literally deflating and was about one more crisis away from dissolving onto the floor in a puddle of pre-adolescent tears. Two cops- Luke had no idea how long they’d been there- rushed over, shoving Alan to the floor and cuffing his hands behind his back. Alan winced as the motion pulled at his wound, but turned his head to look at Noah and Luke.
Jack holstered his own gun and cautiously moved to stand in front of them, conveniently blocking them from Alan’s sight. “Give me the gun, Noah.” He held his hand out, face carefully expressionless. Noah closed his eyes and, without opening them, smoothly ejected the clip from the gun, let the bullet in the chamber drop to the floor, and handed the pieces over. Luke could only stare in shock, impressed in spite of himself. When did my boyfriend turn into Dirty Harry?
Alan found himself laughing. “Like I said, Noah. As long as I’m alive, you’re-”
His words were cut off when a boot connected with his jaw, nearly knocking some teeth out. “Oh, sorry,” Jack grunted. “These hospital floors, always so slippery.” Nodding to the two cops. “Get him out of here. I want him in a cell in lockup in the next thirty minutes.”
Luke turned his attention back to Noah, whose eyes were still closed. He was still quiet. Luke could see new bruises and marks on his neck and chest through the rip in his shirt. God, no. He didn’t bother saying anything, just gently touched Noah’s shoulders, pulling him sideways until he rested against Luke. He very very tenderly brought the bound hands into his lap, yanking apart what he recognized as IV tubing and freeing Noah’s wrists.
When Noah’s hand tentatively came up to touch Luke’s, it was as if a switch had been thrown. The adrenaline wore off, and Luke was nearly capsized by all that had happened in the last twenty minutes. What had almost happened to him, what had almost happened to Noah… He let out one quiet sob and drew Noah fully against him, cradling him to his chest. “Oh God, Noah, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Noah didn’t exactly respond to the touch, but he didn’t pull away either.
Another pair of arms encircled both boys, and Luke didn’t have to look to know it was Holden. He buried his face in Noah’s hair and breathed in the scent of him- alive and almost whole- while leaning them both into his dad’s embrace. He continued to whisper “I’m sorry” over and over again as Holden held the both of them, hoping it would be enough to keep both boys safe for a little while longer.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“I’m fine,” Luke insisted, even as Holden and Bob pushed him back onto the cot. His ever-trusty rollaway cot, which now held both Luke and a sleeping Noah. Well, sleeping wasn’t the right word- sedated. Doctor Hughes had decided to sedate Noah after an attempt to get him back to bed and examine him had led to Noah freaking out and almost running out on them. He hadn’t wanted anyone near him, and he definitely hadn’t wanted to be in that bed again.
He wasn’t letting anyone but Luke touch him right now, which was perfectly fine with Luke. After actually seeing Alan with his hands on Noah, Luke was refusing to grant anyone the right to touch his boyfriend. So now Noah was lying on his side, clad in a new t-shirt and his own sweatpants. His eyes were shut tight and he was very still, facing Luke even in his sleep. And Luke was sitting up next to him, arguing that he didn’t need to be examined either.
“You’ve got a pretty impressive ring of bruises around your throat that say differently, son,” Dr. Bob commented. He pulled out his stethoscope. “Just take a couple of deep breaths for me. I want to see if your airway is inflamed at all.”
Luke opened his mouth to protest again, but Holden squeezed his shoulder firmly. “Luke. Let him.” Luke realized Holden hadn’t really let go of him since that hug on the floor. His dad was just as freaked out as he was. The least Luke could do was humor him by getting checked out.
“Alright,” Dr. Bob said a few minutes later. “Nothing sounds damaged, but your neck’s going to be sore for a few days. I suggest some compresses to keep the swelling down. And I’ll send a nurse in with some aspirin for that and the bump on the back of your head.”
Luke nodded absent-mindedly as the doctor left the room, already turning back to watch over Noah. He let one hand rest in his hair, tracing the dark curls slowly with his finger tips, not caring that his dad could see the rather intimate gesture. Right now, he didn’t care too much about anything.
“Hey,” a hushed voice called from the doorway. Jack walked over to them, pulling up chairs for both him and Holden. The men sat down on the same side of the bed, closest to Luke. Jack reluctantly prepared to answer the questions he knew Luke had, but was interrupted by a nurse coming in to drop off aspirin.
Luke swallowed the pills with a big gulp of water, grimacing a little as the bruises on his neck made themselves known. Then he turned his attention back to his cousin. “How did he get free?”
Jack looked very sad and very angry. “He’d been faking sedation for at least two days. He was a medic in the Army, he knew how to deal with IVs and stuff. After one of the shift changes, he attacked his guard. Dallas.”
“He okay?” Holden cut in quickly, worriedly. They didn’t need anything else bad happening right now.
Jack nodded. “He will be. He’s got a hell of a head wound, docs are keeping him at least overnight, but they say he’ll be fine.” He turned back to Luke. “When Dallas came to, he called it in to the station and told security to come here. Your dad and I were just leaving the cafeteria and saw the commotion.” Luke nodded, mentally added Dallas to the list of people his foundation would be buying private islands for. “So that’s our side of the story, Luke,” Jack continued. “You okay to tell us yours?”
Luke could only stare for a few seconds, watching the rise and fall of Noah’s chest. “Yeah,” he said quietly. Too quietly, even for him to hear.
“Luke?” Holden prodded.
He cleared his throat painfully, not sure if it had anything to do with his bruises. “Yeah,” he said again, louder. Against his will he turned away from Noah, though one hand stayed in his hair. He told them what had happened, having to nearly spit out the description of Alan all over Noah, having to stop himself from wondering what exactly had happened when Noah was trapped in the basement with Alan. No, no, no, not thinking about that. No way.
“Luke… when Alan attacked you, did he…” Jack took a deep, uncomfortable breath. “Did he try anything…?”
Luke was confused for a fraction of a second before the understanding hit him. “No! Oh, God, no. He didn’t. He didn’t even want to, he told me so.” Both Jack and Holden breathed very audible sighs of relief. But Luke couldn’t share in it. “And he told me… he told me what he was going to do to Noah as soon as I passed out.” The look on his face stopped either man from asking for specifics. They all looked over at Noah instead.
“You think he’ll be alright?” Jack ventured. “I mean, I know this is a… a setback, but it’s still fixable. Right?” Neither Holden nor Luke could answer.
Finally Luke looked up again. “I definitely want him at the farm. As soon as possible. He won’t feel safe here anymore.” I don’t feel safe here anymore either, he wanted to add. Noah shifted a little under his hand, and Luke shushed him, petting his hair, whispering that everything was okay. When he turned back to the two men, he was surprised to see they were standing. “What-?”
“We’re going to let you two get some sleep,” Holden explained. Softer, “I have to tell your mom what happened. I think it’d be better to do it in person and not on the phone. We’ll probably both be back later tonight.”
“I’m going to check in with everything at the station, maybe come back and sit with Dallas for awhile,” Jack chimed in. “You can call me if you need anything.”
Luke meant to thank them, reassure them he was fine, something, but he was suddenly so exhausted that he just didn’t want to. He nodded with a jaw-cracking yawn, scooting down on the cot until he fully lying down, level with his boyfriend.
He turned onto his side so he was facing Noah, content for the time being to simply look at him. He could pretend, in this dark and quiet room, that he was in his bedroom at his mother’s house with Noah simply sleeping next to him. And they were both okay, healthy, happy.
As though he knew he was being watched, Noah stirred a little, frowning briefly before his eyes opened slowly. “Luke?” he drew the one syllable out heavily.
Luke was surprised, the drugs were supposed to keep Noah knocked out for a few more hours. “Hey there, Mayer.” He placed his hand down directly between them so Noah could see it, then moved it up to his face, rubbing his thumb against Noah’s stubbly jaw line.
Noah halfway smiled at the contact for a moment before frowning sluggishly. “You’re hurt?” He was looking at the bruises on Luke’s neck. He tried to move his own hand up to touch them but could only work up the energy to get his hand to Luke’s arm.
Luke stared deeply into Noah’s eyes, trying to gauge how aware he was. Those eyes that he loved so much were cloudy now, heavy-lidded and blinking frequently. He smiled soothingly. “No, I’m not. I’m fine.”
“Your throat,” Noah insisted, determined.
Luke shrugged his free shoulder. “You don’t like it? I thought we could have a matching set, his-and-his neck bruises.”
It took Noah a very long time to process that comment, and if ever there was a possibility for a drugged-up trauma victim to roll his eyes, Noah Mayer found a way. “Silly,” he mumbled, eyes closing a little more.
Luke grinned genuinely, liking how it felt to do that. He felt some of the tension from the last couple hours seeping away. Noah was safe, they were both safe and both going to be fine, Luke was sure of it. It wouldn’t be easy, of course, but right now Luke was starting to feel like it would definitely happen. “C’mere, love,” he softened his voice even more.
Noah opened his eyes again, studying Luke, trying to figure out what he just said. Then he half-smiled again, and both boys inched their way closer to each other until Luke was on his back and Noah was on his stomach, one arm slung across Luke’s midsection, his head on Luke’s shoulder. Luke watched as Noah’s eyes began closing again, his head turning even more to the side with a soft sigh. “Luke?” he asked softly, already half-asleep.
“Yeah?” His chin dropped onto Noah’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck a little.
Noah tried to smile drowsily. “I really, really love you.”
“Oh, you do?” he teased lightly. Half-asleep Noah was always a source of fun, and it looked like, despite the horrible situation, drugged-up Noah was going to be just as adorable.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” he continued mumbling.
“I’m not.”
“Ever.”
“I won’t,” Luke was somewhere between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Noah winced a little, this time definitely from physical discomfort as fresh bruises protested his movement, and he readjusted his body to get more comfortable on the narrow cot. “I don’t want it to be true.” He didn’t seem to be talking to Luke anymore.
“Don’t want what to be true?” Luke had no idea where this had come from. Or where it was going. Should he be scared?
“You’re going to leave me when you find out…” he sighed.
“Find out?” Okay, Luke was starting to get scared. But then Noah’s hand came up to rub at one of the ugly bruises near his collar bone, one that happened to be accompanied by teeth marks. Luke let out a breath, his hand covering Noah’s. “Not your fault, baby. I’m not going to leave you.”
“He said…” Noah’s voice cracked.
“Who?”
“Colonel. He said you wouldn’t want me now. Said I was asking for it…” Noah’s voice was fading.
Luke felt his heart drop down to his stomach. Not only had Alan attacked and abused Noah, but Colonel Mayer had given his consent? Had used it as punishment, or to teach a lesson?! Luke had to stop himself from shaking in rage at that, not wanting to upset Noah further. “Noah,” he sighed the name. “You know none of what he said is true, right?” No answer. “Right?”
The drugs had kicked in again. Noah was fast asleep, breathing deeply, the puffs of air hitting Luke on the upper chest and warming his skin through his shirt. He sighed, telling himself it didn’t matter, Noah was still going to get better. To hell with the damn Colonel. He brought his own hand up to lace their fingers together and finally allowed himself to fall into a deep, hopefully dreamless sleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Marcus was starting to get frustrated. As a long-time therapist, he knew the importance of patience, of keeping his cool when up against seemingly impossible odds. And yet, for the first time in many, many years, he felt like reaching up and tearing out the little hair he had left on his head. Why couldn’t he make this work? Was he really getting that old? Was he not up to this challenge?
“Damn iPod…” he grumbled, trying yet again (he really was glutton for punishment) to transfer songs from his computer to this mp3 player. “Damn technology…” The error message flashed across his screen again, mocking him. “Damn kids and their damn…” It just felt good to say. And it was his granddaughter who had gotten him this silly contraption, so in a way it was her fault.
He was just about to start yelling about kids ruining his lawn when there was soft knock on the door. He took a moment to calm himself. “Come in.” Thank God he took that moment, because otherwise he might have let the surprise he felt show on his face when Noah Mayer stepped into his office.
“Hi,” the boy said awkwardly, standing just inside the doorway as though he had to be ready to make a run for it. Marcus wondered if that was because he was uncomfortable in the presence of a therapist or if that was just his standard state of being anymore.
“Noah, hello.” He smiled genuinely but not too widely. He didn’t want his potential patient to think he was trying to be best friends right away. He didn’t want to scare him off again. “Would you like to sit down?”
He hesitated, glancing around the office, eyeing the posters and pictures on the walls, the large comfy leather couch covered in pillows, the organized chaos that was Marcus’s desk. He looked back at Marcus with the same calculating eye before nodding and moving in closer. He didn’t sit full on the couch though, just perched on the arm. Marcus noted he was moving slowly, very careful and deliberate with his actions. He winced a little before his body settled down. The latest encounter with his attacker must have left some bruises, more than a few.
“I’ll be honest, Noah. I was going to come see you today, try my pitch again. I heard you’re leaving the hospital this afternoon.” Bob had given him the heads up yesterday when he stopped by to tell Marcus about this latest incident. He really felt for the kid; it just seemed to get worse at every turn.
Noah nodded, looking down at his hands. “They say I’m well enough to go home, so…”
It was the most he’d ever heard Noah say in one breath. “Do you feel well enough?” He refrained from leaning forward, not wanting to crowd Noah even from the other side of his desk.
Noah shrugged, a very practiced gesture. “I guess. I’m not sick anymore, so it makes sense.”
“Well, how do you feel right now?” Marcus pressed gently.
Another shrug. “If… if I was okay I wouldn’t be here, right? I don’t know.”
Marcus nodded, sitting back in his chair. “First time I met you, you didn’t even want me in the same room as you, remember? I seem to recall you throwing me out.” He smiled, but Noah was still avoiding eye contact and missed the joke.
“I’m sorry,” he was becoming hesitant, withdrawing again.
Marcus rushed to pull him back. “I didn’t mean that as a rebuke, Noah. I meant it as a sign of progress. You came to see me, by yourself. In my opinion, that means you’re getting better.”
Noah scoffed ever so slightly. “Personal or professional opinion? There’s usually a difference,” he muttered, seemingly without meaning to. Marcus’s smile was much wider now, though Noah still couldn’t see it. There he was- it was the most personality he’d seen out of Noah yet. He was still himself in there somewhere, the boy just didn’t realize it yet.
“Both, actually,” he finally replied. One side of Noah’s mouth attempted a polite smile in return. Marcus readied himself with a deep breath. “Look, Noah, Bob told me a little of what happened yester-”
“I almost killed him,” Noah’s voice was quiet, but it cut into the air like steel.
“Your attacker?” Marcus clarified.
Noah nodded, his eyes roaming the office, looking at everything but the therapist. He settled on staring at an old photograph framed on a nearby shelf. The man and woman in it looked somewhat familiar, but Noah couldn’t work up the energy to try and place them. “Two weeks ago, I never even would’ve thought- thought that I could- that I…” he struggled with himself.
Marcus kept quiet, watching him intently. Noah traced a bruise on his wrist with his other hand. “He was going to hurt Luke, and I couldn’t let that happen. I wasn’t thinking then, just reacting: He had Luke and there was a gun right there and…” Noah took in a shuddering breath.
“Sounds like-” Marcus’s tone must have been too gentle, because Noah grimaced, his eyes flashing a brighter blue defensively.
“The thing is,” he continued as though Marcus hadn’t said a word. “When Luke was safe, and I still had the gun pointed at… I was thinking then. Clearly. And I wanted to kill him. I wanted to finish it.” He finally looked directly at the doctor. Based on his words, Marcus would’ve thought his face would be full of fire, anger, maybe even hate. But Noah once again threw a curve ball at him, and all he saw on the boy’s face was despair, shame, and real fear. “Is this how I’m gonna feel from now on?” he asked, sounding frail.
Marcus took a moment to choose his words carefully before answering. “Not if you don’t want to,” he responded. “You can fix yourself, Noah. I know for a fact that you can.” He watched, holding himself quiet then, as a battle waged inside his potential patient. Ah hell, who was he kidding? His patient. He was going to be a part of this recovery whether he was welcome or not!
Noah mulled many things- a lifetime’s worth of things- over in his head, unconsciously chewing on his lower lip. Marcus gave him the time. When he looked back up, Marcus could see that his eyes were a little bit clearer. He wouldn’t call it determination, but it was a start. “Well? What are you going to do?”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Holden pulled the car up next to the porch and took his time shutting off the engine before he turned to look behind him. Unlike Lily, who was already twisted around and staring into the backseat. Holden smiled at her and turned his own head.
Luke and Noah were both asleep, holding hands, Luke’s head resting on Noah’s shoulder. It was a scene Holden had looked upon many times, and if it weren’t for the bruises visible on both boys he could almost believe everything was right in the world.
But then, as though God just had to prove him wrong right then and there, Noah flinched in his sleep, gripping Luke’s hand tighter. Luke woke up immediately, glancing around startled for a second before focusing on Noah, kissing his forehead lightly. By the time he looked up at his parents, both Holden and Lily were getting out of the car, hiding their sadness and pretending to be distracted by unloading the car of duffel bags.
Luke wasn’t fooled, but he didn’t want his mom and dad to know that. He looked back at Noah again, who was just waking up himself. “We’re here?” he asked groggily, blinking and yawning.
“Yup,” Luke whispered, running his thumb along the hand that was clutched in his. Noah nodded, rubbing his eyes like a little boy waking up from a nap. Luke couldn’t help but kiss him again. When he did stuff like that, Luke didn’t stand a chance. “You ready?” he asked, opening his door. After another nod, Luke hopped out of the car and hurried over to Noah’s side as his boyfriend climbed out too.
While they were both standing there, gratefully inhaling the smells and sounds of the farm, Holden and Lily took their bags inside, giving them the moment alone. Luke could see the nervousness on Noah’s face, having to face people he hadn’t consciously been around since before the kidnapping. He wanted so badly to wrap an arm around Noah as they walked to the porch, but he was unsure if it would be smothering him.
But then, even as he reached for Noah’s hand to offer a little comfort, Noah stepped in even closer and leaned into Luke’s body a little- their old unspoken request for a hug. He couldn’t help but grin, pulling Noah to him, relishing in the warmth their bodies produced together. He could feel Noah let out the breath he’d unconsciously been holding in.
“I’m glad you’re here, Luke,” Noah said softly. And then he did something that surprised both of them- he kissed Luke on the cheek. For the first time since his rescue, he initiated a kiss on his own.
By this point, Luke was getting used to emotions completely overwhelming him. Worry, helplessness, anger- they had been hitting him like tidal waves. But the fact that it was happiness that filled him now felt so incredibly good. His smile got impossibly wider, and he brought both hands up to Noah’s face, bringing it down so their foreheads touched. He was going to say something cute, something loving, but he realized as they looked into each other’s eyes (Noah was looking into his eyes!) that he didn’t need to. He had learned long ago- Noah had shown him long ago- that there were an infinite number of ways to say I love you.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Dinner was thankfully quick and uneventful. Noah had been understandably quiet and for the most part everyone left him in peace, except to encourage him to eat a little more and remind him to take his meds. He even managed a genuine smile for Emma, which nearly left her in a giant puddle of tears that she hid well enough from everyone but Holden.
While Luke took Noah upstairs to help him shower and get to bed- too much excitement for one day had Noah almost falling asleep at the table- Holden followed his mother over to the sink as she began washing dishes. “Mama?”
She just shook her head, not looking up from the soapy water. Holden leaned against the counter next to her, waiting. “They’re both still so hurt,” she finally whispered. “Lord knows they’re trying, but… A part of me thought that coming home from the hospital meant everything was all better. Foolish, I know, but I can’t-”
“It’s not foolish,” he protested quietly. “It’s not foolish to want your family to be well and whole. That’s a consequence of loving them.”
Tears burned her eyes again. “I just didn’t expect them to still be so hurt,” she tried to explain. Because while Noah was grievously wounded, inside and out, she could see the damage in Luke as well, and she wasn’t just talking about those ugly bruises around his neck.
“I’m worried about Luke too,” Holden murmured, knowing what she was thinking about, just like always. Emma finally turned to look at her son as he continued. “He’s got an almost… pathological need to watch over Noah right now, especially after what happened yesterday. He needs to take a break from worrying, or they’re both just going to suffer more for it. I’m worried they’ll get too dependent on each other.” He gave his mother a quick but warm hug. “But we did get over one hurdle today- Noah went to talk to Dr. Weston on his own. He’s going to start counseling in two days.”
“He accepted help,” Emma let out a relieved breath, almost not ready to believe something that good had actually happened. “He asked for help.”
Holden smiled. “Which is one of the hardest things to do. If Noah can do that, there’s no reason to think he can’t get through all of this. And if we can get Luke to see he needs help too, then everything will work out.” He gave her a sweet, silly kiss on the cheek. “I’d bet the farm on it.”
“Oh, you,” she swatted his shoulder with the dish rag, smiling in spite of herself. Maybe Holden was right. Maybe everything would turn out fine. She still had worries about her family, but right now her time would probably be better spent planning the biggest breakfast the Snyder family had ever seen…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Luke tore out another sheet of paper, balling it up and tossing it aside in true cliché-frustrated-writer fashion. He had thought that some writing would be good for him right now- he hadn’t done all that much lately. To be honest, he hadn’t really written for fun since this latest semester started. The first full semester in which he wasn’t a college student.
Luke didn’t want to admit it, but he missed OU sometimes. He missed his writing classes. He missed his professor, his advisor, he even missed the pretentious thick-framed-glasses-wearing student in the Decemberists t-shirt who always talked about “finding the truth” in his stories.
The truth for Luke was he missed that rush of writing something down, of getting a new assignment and having to push himself to be creative by someone else’s rules, of finding the perfect combination of words that said something new. Luke missed all of that.
But he didn’t miss school. And he couldn’t figure out how to tell his family that. They both were subtly and not-so-subtly dropping hints that he should try to go back. Noah did too, but he always backed off quickly. And he never talked about his own classes, his teachers, his friends in the film department. Luke wasn’t sure if he never brought it up because he thought it would sadden Luke or piss him off.
And now Luke wouldn’t be able to find out, as Noah was taking the rest of this semester off on medical leave. He knew Noah was going to hate being out of the editing lab for this long- the image of a crack addict going too long without a fix came to mind- but everyone, including Noah, knew it was for the best right now. And speaking of not talking about painful subjects…
He sighed a little, tossing the notebook aside (not the computer, it was always more fun and organic to write something new with pen and paper) and settled down fully on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He wondered when the time would come that Noah would be able to talk about everything that had happened to him. And if he himself would be ready to hear it.
Noah had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow a few hours ago. He had been so exhausted, mentally and physically, that Luke had had to pretty much prop him up in the shower. It had been such a strange experience. There was nothing remotely sexual about it, but Luke couldn’t help but admire how beautiful Noah was, even in this state. Just so achingly beautiful, Luke couldn’t look away. It was the first time he’d seen Noah naked since the kidnapping, and God he loved that body more than pretty much anything else on Earth.
But it was also the first time he’d seen the extent of the bruising on his body. Noah’s hips and the upper parts of his amazingly long legs had been discolored and marred; Luke had almost been afraid to touch him. Too many of the bruises looked too much like handprints, and if he actually thought about Alan touching Noah there, especially now that he had a visual to go along with it…
He was finding it harder and harder to let Noah out of his sight. What if something else happened to him? Something that finally made him snap? Noah was slowly trying to get better, but what if it wasn’t enough? What if Luke wasn’t enough to help him get through it?
Another rather impressive sigh, and Luke finally turned off his bedside lamp and burrowed under his comforter. His bed was so incredibly comfortable after those night on his friend, the rollaway cot. (He had been one more night away from giving it a name. Maybe Fred.) And yet, Luke wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep tonight. He and Noah were in separate rooms now. How was Noah doing, was he okay?
A few more minutes of tossing and turning, and suddenly his bedroom door creaked open. Luke stilled immediately, wondering if it was his Grandma coming in to check on him. But when the door shut and the person stepped closer without saying a word, Luke knew who it was. He opened his eyes quickly and rolled over, pulling back his comforter so Noah could climb in next to him.
His boyfriend did so silently, gingerly, obviously still a little sore. They both lay on their sides, facing each other. Luke frowned when Noah finally looked at him. His eyes were panicked, wild. “Bad dream?” he whispered. Noah nodded before moving closer, pressing his forehead into the middle of Luke’s chest, breathing heavily.
Luke stayed still, letting Noah get whatever it was he needed. “I’m here, I’m right here,” he murmured, glad in a way that Noah had sought him out, wasn’t trying to deal on his own. He moved a little then, raking his fingers through Noah’s hair when he sighed and relaxed against Luke, forehead still resting at his chest.
Noah’s hand worked its way up to grasp the front of Luke’s shirt. Then he just held on, like Linus clutching his blue blanket. “Good night Luke,” he mumbled, more into the fabric than anything else.
Luke smiled sleepily, finally feeling like he could get some rest, now that Noah was here. Sorry Fred, looks like I don’t need you after all. He wrapped an arm lightly around his boyfriend and pulled the comforter over both of them. “Good night Noah.”
TO BE CONTINUED! Coming Up: Holden and Luke argue, Noah starts therapy and bonds with someone unexpected...