Divergence: Chapter Forty-Five
Divergence
Author: Escapes
Rating: Just to be safe, NC 17
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Spoiler/Warning: Spoilers up through the enlistment story arc and forward/ Warnings: M/M , Language
Disclaimer: Characters belong to ATWT, P&G, CBS, etc. I'm not making money from this, don't sue, etc.
Summary: This is Luke and Noah’s storyline the way I see it unfolding if the Boys were on cable. And, you know, the writers and owners of the show weren’t insane/chickensh*t. There is so much that doesn’t get told on the screen. Here’s what really happens....
Thanks to noelleleithe for the beta work. Thank you Thank you!
“Good Morning, Noah.”
Noah smiles as he takes a seat across from Josh. “Good Morning.” He hands Josh a coffee and opens his own.
Josh pops the lid off of his and takes a sip, “Thanks.” He puts the coffee down on the edge of his desk and picks up the pen laying on the pad in his lap. “How are things?”
Noah plays with the edge of the lid of his coffee. “I’ve had something on my mind and I’m not sure how to bring it up.”
Josh puts his pen down and looks Noah in the eyes with a small smile. “You just did bring it up. What’s on your mind, Noah?”
Noah can feel the blood creeping into his cheeks and the feeling of his throat closing up, “It’s....I want....I can’t.....Dammit!” He can hear the disgusted voice of his father echoing in the far reaches of his brain, blasting him for even wanting to bring this up, hell even for thinking of it. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”
Josh rescues Noah’s coffee cup from being crushed in his hands and taps the side of Noah’s wrist to get his attention. “Noah, if it has you this twisted up, it’s not nothing. Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths and push your father out of your head.”
Noah’s eyes snap open in surprise.
Josh raises an eyebrow, “I thought he might be in there. Your face tells me that my hunch was right. Whatever it is, Noah, I can guarantee it’s not going to be something I haven’t heard before.”
Noah closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, feeling his heart hammer in his chest. When his father’s voice starts up in his head again, Noah mentally stares it down, pushing it back into the dark corner it had been reduced to.
Taking another deep breath, he lets it out. “It’s something sexual, is that okay?”
Josh nods, “I figured it might be. I’m honored you trust me enough to ask for my help, Noah. It’s not my main specialization, but if I can’t help you work it out, then I can certainly refer you to someone that has more experience in that area than I do.”
Still feeling the flames of embarrassment licking at his cheeks, Noah forges ahead. “Okay....here’s the thing...since Luke and I have been having sex, I’ve always been the....top? Is that the right term?”
Josh looks up from the notepad in his lap “One of them. For your purposes, yes, that works. Was that assignment of roles something that was decided on in advance?”
Noah shakes his head, “I think Luke knew instinctively that I wouldn’t be comfortable with it. We didn’t discuss it at all, it just fell into place.”
“Okay. Is this role not working for you now?”
Noah chews on his bottom lip as he contemplates his answer, “It’s not that. It’s just...I don’t want to give my past and, more importantly, my father the power over me any more. But, whenever Luke tries to move his fingers anywhere near....well, you know....my legs clench together like a nervous schoolgirl’s.”
“Has Luke indicated any sort of dissatisfaction in this?”
Noah’s head snaps up in surprise, “No! He’s been amazing. He’ll let his fingers wander and talks to me, telling me what he’s doing and if I get uncomfortable, he stops right away. It’s me being not satisfied.”
“In which way?”
Noah scrubs his fingers through his hair. “I want to experience everything about being with Luke. I see the way that he reacts to my fingers and me being inside of him and I want to have that, to look up and see him watching my face like I watch him. From the way he reacts, it must feel pretty damn good.”
Josh smiles a little at Noah’s words, “Okay, so now that you’ve told me this desire out loud, how are you feeling?”
Noah thinks about it and takes a sip of his coffee. “Still a little anxious, but some relief at having got it out there. What do I do from here?”
“Good question. I like that you’re questioning a lot of things. You’ve recognized that you want to explore other roles with your sexuality and you’re taking steps to do that. You’ve also said that you don’t want to give your father power over your sexuality. Is the way he raised you, his rigid definitions of what is a man and what is not, part of why you have a roadblock against exploring this role?”
Noah feels the familiar clench in his gut when the subject of his father comes up and fights through the instinctive urge to clam up and pretend this conversation didn’t happen. He’s learned through Josh that the feeling is how he knows that he needs to keep talking, that if he keeps pushing through it, progress is going to be made. “Yes. Even though, rationally, I know that everything he ever taught me to believe is wrong, and was guided by his own sick version of morality, but the part of me that’s not ruled by my head and logic is the one that seems to be in charge of this.”
Josh nods, “You’ve been conditioned to only have a very narrow field of behavior be deemed as acceptable as a quote unquote man. Even if your brain knows this, you’re right, it’s not usually the one in charge in matters of sexuality or the heart. It’s based on all the parts of you that are governed by feeling and emotion. All the stuff that makes your brain throw up its proverbial hands and lets the baser part of you take over.” Josh takes a swallow of coffee and smiles, “I think Robin Williams covered it best. God gave man two heads and only enough blood to run one of them at a time.”
Noah nearly snorts coffee through his nose. “Warn a guy not to drink when you’re going to quote Robin Williams!”
Josh hands Noah a tissue and chuckles as he wipes his mouth. “Sorry. Like all great comedians, Robin knows that the most honest and universally true observations are usually the funniest. Everyone relates to them.”
Noah perks up at this. “Just like great movies. The ones that are classics have a timeless appeal to them. The actual plot points may be dated, but the underlying story is just as relevant today as when it was written.”
Josh smiles fondly, “Somehow I knew you were going to turn it all around to movies at some point.”
Grinning, Noah tosses the tissue into the waste bin, “It’s almost like we’ve met before!”
Josh rolls his eyes as he chuckles. “Smartass.”
Noah just smirks and waits for Josh to continue.
“Back onto the issue at hand. While this is not my specialization, I do have some advice for you. First, you need to talk to Luke about this. I know that your father’s voice is probably rising like a phoenix inside your head right now, but there is no way you’re going to work through this without Luke’s support.”
Noah nods, already feeling an internal cringe at trying to bring this up in conversation. “I know. Give me a deadline to talk to him. If I leave it up to my own devices, I’ll keep putting it off.”
“Okay, then I’d like the conversation to take place before our next appointment, on Monday.”
Noah take a steady, deep breath and nods. “Okay.” He takes another breath and looks Josh in the eyes. “What’s the other part?”
“The other part won’t be any less intense. You’re going to need to have a lot of trust in Luke and yourself. You’ll need to trust that Luke loves you enough to respect your limits, but also gently pushes you to expand them. You’ll need to open yourself up to him completely, both physically and mentally to Luke. He’ll have to do the same to you.”
Noah swallows around the lump in his throat. “That does sound intense.”
Josh nods, “Both of you are going to need a lot of patience. If either of you push more than you’re comfortable with, it could cause huge problems.” Clasping his hands together, Josh leans in closer to Noah. “Once you’ve had the conversation with Luke, I want to have a session with both of you.”
Noah nods. “Is that going to be uncomfortable for you? Working with Luke’s foundation and all?”
Josh shakes his head, “I have a feeling that working with teenage boys, this particular subject is going to come up a lot. Talk to Luke about his comfort with seeing me and if he’s not, I can certainly make a referral to one of my colleagues.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
Luke flinches as his cell phone vibrates under his pillow, reaching his hand under to silence it. He presses the button to display the time and softly groans at the digital read out of five a.m. that greets him. Putting the now silent phone on the bedside table, Luke rolls onto his back and turns his head to look at Noah’s sleeping face. It breaks a little piece of him, that he can’t share what’s going on with his grandmother. She’d been very clear that no one was to be told of this, even Noah, without her permission.
Lifting his hand out from the covers, Luke rubs his thumb softly over Noah’s cheek, stilling when Noah stirs a little. As Noah relaxes back into sleep, Luke feels a rush of gratitude for this moment. There were times, before coming out, that Luke doubted he’d ever have moments like this. Moments he saw his straight friends, like Casey, Maddie and even his mess of a cousin Jade, take for granted and throw away with the knowledge that they could have moments like this any time they chose.
Being the gay poster boy for Oakdale was a pretty lonely and thankless job before Noah came to town and even afterwards, if he’s honest with himself. His father, bless him, never asked him to be anyone but himself. But, being the only gay man most of the town knew; he felt the pressure to be that much better, more grown up and just more. He always had the feeling that if he wasn’t, that any gay men that came after him in Oakdale would be judged on the standard he set.
Luke trails a fingertip along the edge of Noah’s jaw. Even now that he knows he’s not the only gay man in Oakdale, having met Reg and Roth, Tony and Scott and even a small group of lesbians, the pressure he feels has lessened but it’s still there. Guiding Noah in his coming out, or forcing his hand if he’s really honest and early morning introspections for him always seem to be brutally honest. Guiding or forcing may be up to the up for grabs as the truth, but Luke knows that either way, he still bears a certain expectation from Noah to live up to the uncompromising high standards he sets for himself. Luke knows that Noah prides himself on honesty and since learning of all of his father’s deceptions, it has become even more of a deal breaker for him.
Luke leans in and kisses Noah softly on his forehead, seeing a smile tug up the corner of Noah’s mouth that wasn’t hidden by the pillow, before it falls downward into the laxness of sleep. Luke sighs at having to get out of the warm bed. Pulling up the covers on Noah, Luke sits up and rubs his face to clear off the last vestiges of sleep, having slept fitfully knowing what the morning was going to bring.
Knowing that he needs to get moving, Luke stands and looks down at Noah for another moment, promising himself that he’ll persuade his grandmother to allow him to tell Noah what’s going on.
After grabbing the clothes he’d left out, he pads quietly to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Fifteen minutes later, he’s closing the apartment door behind him, after making sure the alarm clock is set for Noah and the timer of the coffee machine is primed and ready to start just before the alarm.
Seeing the frost icing the tips of the grass and the few remaining leaves on the trees makes Luke pull his coat closer as he gets in the car and cranks up the heat. He gazes longingly at the still closed ‘Bean and heads across town towards his grandmother’s place, knowing better than to stop for a coffee or breakfast sandwich. Grandmother would smell it on him and up the crankiness factor to eleven.
Once Luke has his Grandmother bundled into the car, he dutifully ignores her comments about his car and even keeps from rolling his eyes at her wanting to take her land yacht, complete with driver. “Not exactly the best way to stay incognito, Grandmother.”
Lucinda just sniffs at him and actually whimpers as they drive by a coffee house.
Biting his lip to keep from smiling, Luke pulls into the hospital parking lot and hauls Lucinda’s bag out from the back seat and follows her to the walkway that leads to the hospital and heads to the admissions desk.
Once in her room, work like a well-oiled machine, Lucinda hanging her clothes in the room’s closet and Luke tucking away the small things like lotion and lipstick that she insisted on having beside her bed, Luke remembering from their previous stay how particular Lucinda was about her creature comforts, even in the hospital.
Once they have her settled in to the room, Luke nods down at the blue fabric folded at the foot of the bed. “There’s no more stalling, Grandmother. It’s time to put on the gown.”
Giving the offending pile of fabric a baleful glare, she snatches it up and strides into the bathroom, snapping the door shut behind her.
While she’s changing, Luke makes his way out into the hallway and down to the nurses station, “Good morning, everyone.”
A few of the nurses return the greeting, those that are involved in something nodding their acknowledgement and continuing on. Luke gets the attention of the nurse closest to him and points at the cellophane wrapped package waiting on the cabinet. “That should be for me.”
The nurse smiles as she hands it over to him, “Nice to see a man that plans ahead.”
Smiling back, Luke shrugs. “My grandmother and I have been down this road before. A little planning goes a long way in heading off crankiness.”
Making his way back to the room, he’s just unwrapping the vase of flowers and placing it on the bedside table when his grandmother leaves the bathroom with the hospital gown on, covered by a long silk dressing down. Her gaze falls on the flowers and Luke knows that his arranging to have this delivered last night, so it would be here waiting this morning, was a good idea.
“Luciano, Dear Boy, I do believe your young and nice is pulling ahead of my old and wily this morning.”
Luke crumples the cellophane in his hands, dumping it in the wastebasket. “You forgot cranky.”
Her eyes showing her amusement, Lucinda pulls Luke into her arms and hugs him. “Fine, I’ll concede to cranky.”
Wrapping his arms around her, Luke closes his eyes and breathes her scent in. “Not that I blame you. We’ve both spent far too much time here.’
Lucinda stays quiet, just holding Luke close to her for a moment.
They only pull apart when a throat clearing from the doorway breaks through the silence. Dr. Hughes smiles at both of them. “Good morning Luke and Lucinda.”
Coming into the room with a scrubs suited woman behind him, Bob Hughes indicates for Lucinda and Luke to have a seat. “I’m glad to see you’re all settled in. This is Dr. Mehra.”
Lucinda straightens and appraises Bob with her sharp gaze. “I see you’ve pulled the big guns for me, Bob.”
Smiling, Bob nods. “You’d expect nothing less, Lucinda.”
Dr. Mehra smiles and reaches out a hand for Luke, “I don’t believe we’ve met. You must be Luke.”
Shaking her hand, Luke nods. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Mehra.”
The doctor sits on the foot of Lucinda’s bed, “Before we get into any questions that you have, I do want to make sure that you, Luke, as Lucinda’s medical proxy have had the discussions you both need so that you’re on the same page for any outcome of the surgery today.”
Nodding again, Luke wishes that Noah were here, with his silent strength and warm hand on his shoulder. “Yes. We’ve gone over everything that could happen and I know what her wishes are, no matter the outcome.”
Nodding, Dr. Mehra makes some notes in her file, “I’ve gone over all of the scans and previous tests. I’ll have one of my staff in contact with you during the procedure and Dr. Hughes will come out with the results and to get the decision on any further intervention we’ll need to take.” She closes the file and looks at both of them, “Are there any questions that you have for me?”
Luke looks at Lucinda, who raises an eyebrow back at Luke. Luke shakes his head and Lucinda turns to the doctor. “No, no further questions. I just want it perfectly clear that Luke is to be treated as if the orders are coming directly from me, even if you may not agree with a decision.”
Dr. Mehra nods and touches Luke’s hand softly. “Luke, you have my word that myself and anyone on my team will treat you with the same respect we’d reserve for your grandmother.”
Luke smiles a little and nods, “Thank you, Dr. Mehra. Just take care of her. She’s important to me.”
“I’m sitting right here and can hear you, Luciano.”
Smirking, Luke looks at Dr. Mehra with mischief in his eyes. “Like I said, she’s important to me, if annoying sometimes.”
“I heard that too, you little brat.”
Dr. Mehra laughs as Luke turns to Lucinda, pulling a face at her. “You were meant to.” He puts his forehead to hers. “You ready to do this?”
Nodding, Lucinda watches two orderlies come into the room, ready to move her bed to the surgical waiting room. Both Bob and Dr. Mehra leave as the orderlies are unlocking the bed and making sure Lucinda’s sheets and blankets are safely tucked out of the way of the rails before raising them.
Luke grabs his bag and makes sure the closet that Lucinda’s belongings are in is locked, before pocketing the key and walking behind the bed as they make their journey down to the pre-op room.
Once they’re there, Lucinda’s bed is rolled into bay that holds her operating suite number. The nurses bustle around the room, taking blood pressure and starting IV’s, all with a well practiced ebb and flow throughout the room. By several of the beds were the white coated inlets of the anesthesiologists. The nurses worked around them, the doctors just as practiced as the nurses, their stillness a counterpoint to the current of activity made by the nurses.
Luke holds Lucinda’s hand as they look up to see one of the doctor’s step up beside the bed. Luke smiles when he recognizes the doctor as the same one that he’d had for his transplant. “You’re in good hands, Grandmother. She’s good.”
Smiling, the doctor pulls Lucinda’s chart from the foot of the bed. “Good morning. Lucinda, I see we’ve put you under before, so I don’t have any concerns about the course laid out for you today. You didn’t have any problems tolerating the anesthesia and had no nausea, so I’m going to use the same course as your last surgery. I may need to increase the dosage if the surgery is expanded. With any anesthetic, there is always the danger of side effects. These can be relatively mild, all the way up to death. I’ll need you to read over the waiver and then sign it.”
Lucinda pulls her reading glasses out from under her pillow and reads the form over, signing the bottom of it.
Once she’s handed it back to the doctor, a nurse is beside Lucinda, an IV kit at the ready. Seconds later, the needle is in and saline flowing as the doctor pulls a syringe out of a rolling cart beside her. “Okay, I’m just going to give you a little bit of sedative, so that you’re already relaxed when I administer the anesthetic.”
Lucinda nods, watching the needle enter the shunt on the side of her IV line. Within a minute, Luke can see her shoulders relax a little. He remembers the slow, warm tide that runs through your system, leaving numbness in it’s wake. When Lucinda’s blinks become a little longer and unfocused, Luke knows the full effect has hit.
“Just so you know, Doctor. I had a pedicure the other day, before all this nonsense started and you will have to work around the polish on them. I’m not willing to ruin Mei’s impeccable polish work over this unfortunate state of affairs.”
Luke can see the doctor biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Luke puts his elbow on the bed and leans his chin on it, covering his mouth with his fingers, so he’s free to smile without getting smacked.
The doctor nods seriously at Lucinda, “That’s okay, Lucinda. I understand about the pedicure. I have ways of working around it. No worries, your polish will be intact when you roll out of there.”
Lucinda nods, more to herself than anyone, “I knew you’d understand, dear. Was hoping I’d have a woman, men don’t get it...” Her speech has slowed considerably, the words starting to tumble into each other.
Luke reaches over and takes the glasses off Lucinda’s nose and leans over to kiss her cheek, “I’ll see you when you get out. “
Nodding, Lucinda looks at him seriously, “Don’t get fingerprints on my glasses.”
Stifling a chuckle, Luke nods back just as seriously. “I won’t.”
“And you never saw me wearing them.”
Luke makes a confused face. “Saw you wearing what, Grandmother?”
“What do you mean, I just told you my gla.....oooh, you’re good. Knew I liked you best for a reason.”
At that moment, the orderlies come back and both Luke and Lucinda look up at them. Leaning down to kiss Lucinda’s cheek, Luke manages his best smile. “I’ll see you when you come out, Grandmother.”
Lucinda squeezes his hand, her grip not as strong as usual, due to the sedatives going through her “You remember what I want when the time comes?”
Luke nods and grips her hand back so hard that his knuckles turn white. “I will.” He leans closer and smiles, “I believe you requested the bodacious rack of a twenty year old.”
A smile breaks out on Lucinda’s face as she chuckles. “Only you, Darling, could make me smile at a moment like this.”
“Love you, Grandmother.”
Lucinda cups Luke’s face and pulls it down to hers, putting their foreheads together. “I love you too, Luciano.”
Bob’s voice broke through their bubble. “Luke, Lucinda, it’s time.”
They look up and see Bob dressed in his scrubs, ready to observe Lucinda’s surgery and keep Luke informed.
Luke moves out of the orderlies’ way and watches as they wheel her away through the doors to the surgical suites. Feeling strangely bereft, now that things are well and truly out of his hands, Luke watches the movements of the nurses around him with a sense of detachment. He clutches the strap of his bag in his hands, feeling like he’s rooted to the spot.
“Luke?”
Blinking out of his stupor, Luke turns his head to see the nurse that had been with Lucinda since she’d been rolled in. She puts her hand on his arm and smiles softly, “Let’s get you to the family waiting room.”
Nodding, Luke lets her lead him almost like a child. The family waiting room is crowded, the majority of surgeries scheduled for first thing in the morning at Memorial. He lets the nurse lead him to the communications desk where he leaves his name and who he is here for so the volunteer can find him when word comes.
Finding a seat on on of the industrial, easy clean chairs that seem to populate hospitals everywhere, Luke drops his bag between his feet and glances up at the clock, starting his familiar waiting room routine for the second time in a week.
Luke loses himself inside of his head, his thoughts dancing into his consciousness and then evaporating before he can focus on them. This continues until he finally pulls a notebook and pen from his bag, determined to still the flights of fancy in his mind and pin them down in his notebook under a web of ink.
He glances around at the worried, drawn faces of those condemned to wait and starts writing down impressions, from the smell of the industrial cleaner mingling with the tang of worry and fear that made the air almost cloying and thick in the room, his eyes sweep over the talismans brought to occupy anxious hands. Prayer beads clicking, rosaries swinging, the metal of crosses dangling and catching the light, the rustle of pages of magazines, bibles, korans and torahs flipped by nervous fingers.
Luke feels the world fall away, only dimly aware of what is going on around him as he continues writing, ideas starting to form in his head. The fleeting ideas now forming solid enough to join with other ideas as they make their way down to his moving hand and spill out in ink on the paper.
His name is called and he hears it faintly, but it’s not until he feels the familiar touch of Bob Hughes’ hand on his shoulder that the spell of creation is broken.
Luke blinks at the pages with his thoughts bled out all over them, absentmindedly rubbing at the stain of ink on the side of his finger as he looks up at Bob.
Bob motions for Luke to stand and waits while Luke repacks his notebook and pen in his bag. Once he stands, he follows Bob, blinking in the harsher florescent lights of the hallway. He keeps following Bob into a room near the end of the hallway, blinking his eyes yet again to adjust to the dim lighting inside.
Bob turns to face Luke, calm compassion radiating from him. “The surgery is going well, Luke. Lucinda is tolerating it beautifully. We’ve removed the tissue we are concerned about and we should have the results of the testing very shortly.”
Luke nods, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, “Okay. How does it look?”
Bob motions to the chairs and couch in the room. Luke sits on the couch and Bob takes a chair. “Luke, this is not my area of speciality, but Dr. Mehra did not seem pleased, even with her visual inspection of the the tissue before she gave it over to pathology to be tested.”
Trying to swallow around the dry, achy lump in his throat, Luke bites his bottom lip and nods. His voice breaks as he pushes it past the rock now sitting firmly over his vocal chords. “Wh..what do we do now?”
Bob gets up and crosses to a cabinet by the door, pulling out a water from the inside. He hands it to Luke, who shifts the weight of it from one hand to another. “This is the little room they bring people into, so they don’t upset the others when you tell them bad news, isn’t it?”
Bob puts a hand on Luke’s shoulder and sits beside him on the couch. “I’m not going to lie, Luke. Yes, it is. I’m not needed in the O.R. right now, so I figured we could both wait in here.” Bob takes the water bottle from Luke and twists it open, handing it back to Luke. “Drink. I also thought you’d have less of a chance being spotted by a wandering Snyder here. Any more of you visiting this place and the hospital is going to have to devote an entire shelf in our patient file room to just your family.”
Luke scoffs as he takes a sip of the water. “Like the Hughes family have any room to talk.”
Bob chuckles, conceding the point. “No, I don’t suppose we do.”
They lapse into silence, Luke sipping at his water and wishing like hell it was something stronger.
They both startle when a shrill series of beeps sound from Bob’s hip. He pulls a pager from the drawstring waist of his scrubs and excuses himself to pick up the phone.
Bob isn’t giving anything away as he speaks on the phone. Just a series of noncommittal hmms. Luke guesses that’s what makes him have such a good bedside manner, that unflappable quality that he seems to have. Luke squeezes the half empty bottle in his hands, until the plastic crackles in protest. He makes himself set it down on the table just as Bob hangs up the phone and sits back down beside Luke. Luke closes his eyes for a second and takes a slow, deep breath before opening them again. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Bob nods sympathetically, “It’s as we feared Luke. We’ll need more extensive testing of the composition of the mass, but it has positively been identified as cancerous cells. I’m sorry, son.”
Luke understands for the first time what writers describe as all the blood rush downwards in a moment. The sensation leaves him feeling lightheaded and he’s thankful he’s already sitting down or he knows he’d be laid out on the floor right now. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs and holding his head in his hands.
He can’t hear anything above the rushing sound of his blood flowing downwards into his feet, but he feels Bob’s touch on his back, the rubbing motion so familiar he has to blink back the moisture that’s collecting on his eyes, refusing to give in to letting the tears fall.
He takes a few more deep, steady breaths, before looking up at Bob.
Bob hands him the water bottle again and gestures for him to take a drink. “Luke, I know this is not what any of us wanted to hear. We still have her under anesthesia, awaiting your wishes. You and Lucinda discussed this outcome. What does she want us to do?”
Luke can almost hear Lucinda’s voice in his ear, telling him what she wants done. He knows the final call comes down to him, but there is nothing he can do but do as his grandmother wishes, knowing her reasoning is sound, but that when she wakes up, reason is probably going to take a back seat to the shock of emotions.
Taking another deep breath, he tells Bob what needs to be done.
When Luke finishes talking, he can tell that the decision that’s been made has shocked Bob a little. It’s only knowing him as long as he has that he’s even able to read the flicker of emotion that goes across his face.
“Luke, are you sure? This is what Lucinda has requested?”
Luke nods and reaches into his bag and pulls out an envelope with Bob’s name on it and hands it to him. Luke stares at the wall across from him as he waits for Bob to read the letter.
When Bob finishes the letter, he folds it and places it in the envelope again. A small, begrudgingly impressed smile lifts the corner of his mouth. “Okay. I’ll let them know how to proceed.” He stands and looks down at Luke, still staring at the wall. “Luke? Is there someone you can call right now?”
Luke slowly nods, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and pulling a paper from inside. He hands it to Bob, who reads it and looks down at Luke, putting his hand on the younger man’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “I’ll call right now.”
Luke nods and keeps staring at the wall, his hands balled into fists.
It’s nearly a half hour later when the door to the room opens and Luke looks up from the destruction of the water bottle he’s currently engaged in.
“Luke.”
The severely crippled water bottle is taken from his hands and a cup of steaming coffee from Java is pressed into his hand. Luke nods his thanks. “Hey.”
“This is a little different than our normal meeting spot.”
Luke nods as he sets the coffee cup on the table in front of him. “Can’t leave the room.”
He feels the couch dip as a body joins his on the cushions. “What’s going on.”
Luke sighs. How to explain without breaking any confidences... “Shit is going down. I can’t say what’s going on. I can’t even tell Noah.”
Luke hears a low whistle. “Damn, man. It must be pretty major if you can’t even tell Mayer what’s going on, seeing as he’s practically family to your whole brood.”
Luke nods, “It’s not just Noah, I’m the only one who knows.”
A hand reaches over and gently touches Luke’s arm. “So tell me what you can without saying too much.”
Luke turns away from his staring at the wall and turns to what he hopes is his salvation. “I can’t leave this room because if I do, I’m terrified I’m going to walk straight into a bar and not stop until I end up here myself.”
“But you had Dr. Hughes call me.”
Luke nods. “I did.”
“Good. Let’s work back from the edge from there.”
Author: Escapes
Rating: Just to be safe, NC 17
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Spoiler/Warning: Spoilers up through the enlistment story arc and forward/ Warnings: M/M , Language
Disclaimer: Characters belong to ATWT, P&G, CBS, etc. I'm not making money from this, don't sue, etc.
Summary: This is Luke and Noah’s storyline the way I see it unfolding if the Boys were on cable. And, you know, the writers and owners of the show weren’t insane/chickensh*t. There is so much that doesn’t get told on the screen. Here’s what really happens....
Thanks to noelleleithe for the beta work. Thank you Thank you!
“Good Morning, Noah.”
Noah smiles as he takes a seat across from Josh. “Good Morning.” He hands Josh a coffee and opens his own.
Josh pops the lid off of his and takes a sip, “Thanks.” He puts the coffee down on the edge of his desk and picks up the pen laying on the pad in his lap. “How are things?”
Noah plays with the edge of the lid of his coffee. “I’ve had something on my mind and I’m not sure how to bring it up.”
Josh puts his pen down and looks Noah in the eyes with a small smile. “You just did bring it up. What’s on your mind, Noah?”
Noah can feel the blood creeping into his cheeks and the feeling of his throat closing up, “It’s....I want....I can’t.....Dammit!” He can hear the disgusted voice of his father echoing in the far reaches of his brain, blasting him for even wanting to bring this up, hell even for thinking of it. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”
Josh rescues Noah’s coffee cup from being crushed in his hands and taps the side of Noah’s wrist to get his attention. “Noah, if it has you this twisted up, it’s not nothing. Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths and push your father out of your head.”
Noah’s eyes snap open in surprise.
Josh raises an eyebrow, “I thought he might be in there. Your face tells me that my hunch was right. Whatever it is, Noah, I can guarantee it’s not going to be something I haven’t heard before.”
Noah closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, feeling his heart hammer in his chest. When his father’s voice starts up in his head again, Noah mentally stares it down, pushing it back into the dark corner it had been reduced to.
Taking another deep breath, he lets it out. “It’s something sexual, is that okay?”
Josh nods, “I figured it might be. I’m honored you trust me enough to ask for my help, Noah. It’s not my main specialization, but if I can’t help you work it out, then I can certainly refer you to someone that has more experience in that area than I do.”
Still feeling the flames of embarrassment licking at his cheeks, Noah forges ahead. “Okay....here’s the thing...since Luke and I have been having sex, I’ve always been the....top? Is that the right term?”
Josh looks up from the notepad in his lap “One of them. For your purposes, yes, that works. Was that assignment of roles something that was decided on in advance?”
Noah shakes his head, “I think Luke knew instinctively that I wouldn’t be comfortable with it. We didn’t discuss it at all, it just fell into place.”
“Okay. Is this role not working for you now?”
Noah chews on his bottom lip as he contemplates his answer, “It’s not that. It’s just...I don’t want to give my past and, more importantly, my father the power over me any more. But, whenever Luke tries to move his fingers anywhere near....well, you know....my legs clench together like a nervous schoolgirl’s.”
“Has Luke indicated any sort of dissatisfaction in this?”
Noah’s head snaps up in surprise, “No! He’s been amazing. He’ll let his fingers wander and talks to me, telling me what he’s doing and if I get uncomfortable, he stops right away. It’s me being not satisfied.”
“In which way?”
Noah scrubs his fingers through his hair. “I want to experience everything about being with Luke. I see the way that he reacts to my fingers and me being inside of him and I want to have that, to look up and see him watching my face like I watch him. From the way he reacts, it must feel pretty damn good.”
Josh smiles a little at Noah’s words, “Okay, so now that you’ve told me this desire out loud, how are you feeling?”
Noah thinks about it and takes a sip of his coffee. “Still a little anxious, but some relief at having got it out there. What do I do from here?”
“Good question. I like that you’re questioning a lot of things. You’ve recognized that you want to explore other roles with your sexuality and you’re taking steps to do that. You’ve also said that you don’t want to give your father power over your sexuality. Is the way he raised you, his rigid definitions of what is a man and what is not, part of why you have a roadblock against exploring this role?”
Noah feels the familiar clench in his gut when the subject of his father comes up and fights through the instinctive urge to clam up and pretend this conversation didn’t happen. He’s learned through Josh that the feeling is how he knows that he needs to keep talking, that if he keeps pushing through it, progress is going to be made. “Yes. Even though, rationally, I know that everything he ever taught me to believe is wrong, and was guided by his own sick version of morality, but the part of me that’s not ruled by my head and logic is the one that seems to be in charge of this.”
Josh nods, “You’ve been conditioned to only have a very narrow field of behavior be deemed as acceptable as a quote unquote man. Even if your brain knows this, you’re right, it’s not usually the one in charge in matters of sexuality or the heart. It’s based on all the parts of you that are governed by feeling and emotion. All the stuff that makes your brain throw up its proverbial hands and lets the baser part of you take over.” Josh takes a swallow of coffee and smiles, “I think Robin Williams covered it best. God gave man two heads and only enough blood to run one of them at a time.”
Noah nearly snorts coffee through his nose. “Warn a guy not to drink when you’re going to quote Robin Williams!”
Josh hands Noah a tissue and chuckles as he wipes his mouth. “Sorry. Like all great comedians, Robin knows that the most honest and universally true observations are usually the funniest. Everyone relates to them.”
Noah perks up at this. “Just like great movies. The ones that are classics have a timeless appeal to them. The actual plot points may be dated, but the underlying story is just as relevant today as when it was written.”
Josh smiles fondly, “Somehow I knew you were going to turn it all around to movies at some point.”
Grinning, Noah tosses the tissue into the waste bin, “It’s almost like we’ve met before!”
Josh rolls his eyes as he chuckles. “Smartass.”
Noah just smirks and waits for Josh to continue.
“Back onto the issue at hand. While this is not my specialization, I do have some advice for you. First, you need to talk to Luke about this. I know that your father’s voice is probably rising like a phoenix inside your head right now, but there is no way you’re going to work through this without Luke’s support.”
Noah nods, already feeling an internal cringe at trying to bring this up in conversation. “I know. Give me a deadline to talk to him. If I leave it up to my own devices, I’ll keep putting it off.”
“Okay, then I’d like the conversation to take place before our next appointment, on Monday.”
Noah take a steady, deep breath and nods. “Okay.” He takes another breath and looks Josh in the eyes. “What’s the other part?”
“The other part won’t be any less intense. You’re going to need to have a lot of trust in Luke and yourself. You’ll need to trust that Luke loves you enough to respect your limits, but also gently pushes you to expand them. You’ll need to open yourself up to him completely, both physically and mentally to Luke. He’ll have to do the same to you.”
Noah swallows around the lump in his throat. “That does sound intense.”
Josh nods, “Both of you are going to need a lot of patience. If either of you push more than you’re comfortable with, it could cause huge problems.” Clasping his hands together, Josh leans in closer to Noah. “Once you’ve had the conversation with Luke, I want to have a session with both of you.”
Noah nods. “Is that going to be uncomfortable for you? Working with Luke’s foundation and all?”
Josh shakes his head, “I have a feeling that working with teenage boys, this particular subject is going to come up a lot. Talk to Luke about his comfort with seeing me and if he’s not, I can certainly make a referral to one of my colleagues.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
Luke flinches as his cell phone vibrates under his pillow, reaching his hand under to silence it. He presses the button to display the time and softly groans at the digital read out of five a.m. that greets him. Putting the now silent phone on the bedside table, Luke rolls onto his back and turns his head to look at Noah’s sleeping face. It breaks a little piece of him, that he can’t share what’s going on with his grandmother. She’d been very clear that no one was to be told of this, even Noah, without her permission.
Lifting his hand out from the covers, Luke rubs his thumb softly over Noah’s cheek, stilling when Noah stirs a little. As Noah relaxes back into sleep, Luke feels a rush of gratitude for this moment. There were times, before coming out, that Luke doubted he’d ever have moments like this. Moments he saw his straight friends, like Casey, Maddie and even his mess of a cousin Jade, take for granted and throw away with the knowledge that they could have moments like this any time they chose.
Being the gay poster boy for Oakdale was a pretty lonely and thankless job before Noah came to town and even afterwards, if he’s honest with himself. His father, bless him, never asked him to be anyone but himself. But, being the only gay man most of the town knew; he felt the pressure to be that much better, more grown up and just more. He always had the feeling that if he wasn’t, that any gay men that came after him in Oakdale would be judged on the standard he set.
Luke trails a fingertip along the edge of Noah’s jaw. Even now that he knows he’s not the only gay man in Oakdale, having met Reg and Roth, Tony and Scott and even a small group of lesbians, the pressure he feels has lessened but it’s still there. Guiding Noah in his coming out, or forcing his hand if he’s really honest and early morning introspections for him always seem to be brutally honest. Guiding or forcing may be up to the up for grabs as the truth, but Luke knows that either way, he still bears a certain expectation from Noah to live up to the uncompromising high standards he sets for himself. Luke knows that Noah prides himself on honesty and since learning of all of his father’s deceptions, it has become even more of a deal breaker for him.
Luke leans in and kisses Noah softly on his forehead, seeing a smile tug up the corner of Noah’s mouth that wasn’t hidden by the pillow, before it falls downward into the laxness of sleep. Luke sighs at having to get out of the warm bed. Pulling up the covers on Noah, Luke sits up and rubs his face to clear off the last vestiges of sleep, having slept fitfully knowing what the morning was going to bring.
Knowing that he needs to get moving, Luke stands and looks down at Noah for another moment, promising himself that he’ll persuade his grandmother to allow him to tell Noah what’s going on.
After grabbing the clothes he’d left out, he pads quietly to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Fifteen minutes later, he’s closing the apartment door behind him, after making sure the alarm clock is set for Noah and the timer of the coffee machine is primed and ready to start just before the alarm.
Seeing the frost icing the tips of the grass and the few remaining leaves on the trees makes Luke pull his coat closer as he gets in the car and cranks up the heat. He gazes longingly at the still closed ‘Bean and heads across town towards his grandmother’s place, knowing better than to stop for a coffee or breakfast sandwich. Grandmother would smell it on him and up the crankiness factor to eleven.
Once Luke has his Grandmother bundled into the car, he dutifully ignores her comments about his car and even keeps from rolling his eyes at her wanting to take her land yacht, complete with driver. “Not exactly the best way to stay incognito, Grandmother.”
Lucinda just sniffs at him and actually whimpers as they drive by a coffee house.
Biting his lip to keep from smiling, Luke pulls into the hospital parking lot and hauls Lucinda’s bag out from the back seat and follows her to the walkway that leads to the hospital and heads to the admissions desk.
Once in her room, work like a well-oiled machine, Lucinda hanging her clothes in the room’s closet and Luke tucking away the small things like lotion and lipstick that she insisted on having beside her bed, Luke remembering from their previous stay how particular Lucinda was about her creature comforts, even in the hospital.
Once they have her settled in to the room, Luke nods down at the blue fabric folded at the foot of the bed. “There’s no more stalling, Grandmother. It’s time to put on the gown.”
Giving the offending pile of fabric a baleful glare, she snatches it up and strides into the bathroom, snapping the door shut behind her.
While she’s changing, Luke makes his way out into the hallway and down to the nurses station, “Good morning, everyone.”
A few of the nurses return the greeting, those that are involved in something nodding their acknowledgement and continuing on. Luke gets the attention of the nurse closest to him and points at the cellophane wrapped package waiting on the cabinet. “That should be for me.”
The nurse smiles as she hands it over to him, “Nice to see a man that plans ahead.”
Smiling back, Luke shrugs. “My grandmother and I have been down this road before. A little planning goes a long way in heading off crankiness.”
Making his way back to the room, he’s just unwrapping the vase of flowers and placing it on the bedside table when his grandmother leaves the bathroom with the hospital gown on, covered by a long silk dressing down. Her gaze falls on the flowers and Luke knows that his arranging to have this delivered last night, so it would be here waiting this morning, was a good idea.
“Luciano, Dear Boy, I do believe your young and nice is pulling ahead of my old and wily this morning.”
Luke crumples the cellophane in his hands, dumping it in the wastebasket. “You forgot cranky.”
Her eyes showing her amusement, Lucinda pulls Luke into her arms and hugs him. “Fine, I’ll concede to cranky.”
Wrapping his arms around her, Luke closes his eyes and breathes her scent in. “Not that I blame you. We’ve both spent far too much time here.’
Lucinda stays quiet, just holding Luke close to her for a moment.
They only pull apart when a throat clearing from the doorway breaks through the silence. Dr. Hughes smiles at both of them. “Good morning Luke and Lucinda.”
Coming into the room with a scrubs suited woman behind him, Bob Hughes indicates for Lucinda and Luke to have a seat. “I’m glad to see you’re all settled in. This is Dr. Mehra.”
Lucinda straightens and appraises Bob with her sharp gaze. “I see you’ve pulled the big guns for me, Bob.”
Smiling, Bob nods. “You’d expect nothing less, Lucinda.”
Dr. Mehra smiles and reaches out a hand for Luke, “I don’t believe we’ve met. You must be Luke.”
Shaking her hand, Luke nods. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Mehra.”
The doctor sits on the foot of Lucinda’s bed, “Before we get into any questions that you have, I do want to make sure that you, Luke, as Lucinda’s medical proxy have had the discussions you both need so that you’re on the same page for any outcome of the surgery today.”
Nodding again, Luke wishes that Noah were here, with his silent strength and warm hand on his shoulder. “Yes. We’ve gone over everything that could happen and I know what her wishes are, no matter the outcome.”
Nodding, Dr. Mehra makes some notes in her file, “I’ve gone over all of the scans and previous tests. I’ll have one of my staff in contact with you during the procedure and Dr. Hughes will come out with the results and to get the decision on any further intervention we’ll need to take.” She closes the file and looks at both of them, “Are there any questions that you have for me?”
Luke looks at Lucinda, who raises an eyebrow back at Luke. Luke shakes his head and Lucinda turns to the doctor. “No, no further questions. I just want it perfectly clear that Luke is to be treated as if the orders are coming directly from me, even if you may not agree with a decision.”
Dr. Mehra nods and touches Luke’s hand softly. “Luke, you have my word that myself and anyone on my team will treat you with the same respect we’d reserve for your grandmother.”
Luke smiles a little and nods, “Thank you, Dr. Mehra. Just take care of her. She’s important to me.”
“I’m sitting right here and can hear you, Luciano.”
Smirking, Luke looks at Dr. Mehra with mischief in his eyes. “Like I said, she’s important to me, if annoying sometimes.”
“I heard that too, you little brat.”
Dr. Mehra laughs as Luke turns to Lucinda, pulling a face at her. “You were meant to.” He puts his forehead to hers. “You ready to do this?”
Nodding, Lucinda watches two orderlies come into the room, ready to move her bed to the surgical waiting room. Both Bob and Dr. Mehra leave as the orderlies are unlocking the bed and making sure Lucinda’s sheets and blankets are safely tucked out of the way of the rails before raising them.
Luke grabs his bag and makes sure the closet that Lucinda’s belongings are in is locked, before pocketing the key and walking behind the bed as they make their journey down to the pre-op room.
Once they’re there, Lucinda’s bed is rolled into bay that holds her operating suite number. The nurses bustle around the room, taking blood pressure and starting IV’s, all with a well practiced ebb and flow throughout the room. By several of the beds were the white coated inlets of the anesthesiologists. The nurses worked around them, the doctors just as practiced as the nurses, their stillness a counterpoint to the current of activity made by the nurses.
Luke holds Lucinda’s hand as they look up to see one of the doctor’s step up beside the bed. Luke smiles when he recognizes the doctor as the same one that he’d had for his transplant. “You’re in good hands, Grandmother. She’s good.”
Smiling, the doctor pulls Lucinda’s chart from the foot of the bed. “Good morning. Lucinda, I see we’ve put you under before, so I don’t have any concerns about the course laid out for you today. You didn’t have any problems tolerating the anesthesia and had no nausea, so I’m going to use the same course as your last surgery. I may need to increase the dosage if the surgery is expanded. With any anesthetic, there is always the danger of side effects. These can be relatively mild, all the way up to death. I’ll need you to read over the waiver and then sign it.”
Lucinda pulls her reading glasses out from under her pillow and reads the form over, signing the bottom of it.
Once she’s handed it back to the doctor, a nurse is beside Lucinda, an IV kit at the ready. Seconds later, the needle is in and saline flowing as the doctor pulls a syringe out of a rolling cart beside her. “Okay, I’m just going to give you a little bit of sedative, so that you’re already relaxed when I administer the anesthetic.”
Lucinda nods, watching the needle enter the shunt on the side of her IV line. Within a minute, Luke can see her shoulders relax a little. He remembers the slow, warm tide that runs through your system, leaving numbness in it’s wake. When Lucinda’s blinks become a little longer and unfocused, Luke knows the full effect has hit.
“Just so you know, Doctor. I had a pedicure the other day, before all this nonsense started and you will have to work around the polish on them. I’m not willing to ruin Mei’s impeccable polish work over this unfortunate state of affairs.”
Luke can see the doctor biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Luke puts his elbow on the bed and leans his chin on it, covering his mouth with his fingers, so he’s free to smile without getting smacked.
The doctor nods seriously at Lucinda, “That’s okay, Lucinda. I understand about the pedicure. I have ways of working around it. No worries, your polish will be intact when you roll out of there.”
Lucinda nods, more to herself than anyone, “I knew you’d understand, dear. Was hoping I’d have a woman, men don’t get it...” Her speech has slowed considerably, the words starting to tumble into each other.
Luke reaches over and takes the glasses off Lucinda’s nose and leans over to kiss her cheek, “I’ll see you when you get out. “
Nodding, Lucinda looks at him seriously, “Don’t get fingerprints on my glasses.”
Stifling a chuckle, Luke nods back just as seriously. “I won’t.”
“And you never saw me wearing them.”
Luke makes a confused face. “Saw you wearing what, Grandmother?”
“What do you mean, I just told you my gla.....oooh, you’re good. Knew I liked you best for a reason.”
At that moment, the orderlies come back and both Luke and Lucinda look up at them. Leaning down to kiss Lucinda’s cheek, Luke manages his best smile. “I’ll see you when you come out, Grandmother.”
Lucinda squeezes his hand, her grip not as strong as usual, due to the sedatives going through her “You remember what I want when the time comes?”
Luke nods and grips her hand back so hard that his knuckles turn white. “I will.” He leans closer and smiles, “I believe you requested the bodacious rack of a twenty year old.”
A smile breaks out on Lucinda’s face as she chuckles. “Only you, Darling, could make me smile at a moment like this.”
“Love you, Grandmother.”
Lucinda cups Luke’s face and pulls it down to hers, putting their foreheads together. “I love you too, Luciano.”
Bob’s voice broke through their bubble. “Luke, Lucinda, it’s time.”
They look up and see Bob dressed in his scrubs, ready to observe Lucinda’s surgery and keep Luke informed.
Luke moves out of the orderlies’ way and watches as they wheel her away through the doors to the surgical suites. Feeling strangely bereft, now that things are well and truly out of his hands, Luke watches the movements of the nurses around him with a sense of detachment. He clutches the strap of his bag in his hands, feeling like he’s rooted to the spot.
“Luke?”
Blinking out of his stupor, Luke turns his head to see the nurse that had been with Lucinda since she’d been rolled in. She puts her hand on his arm and smiles softly, “Let’s get you to the family waiting room.”
Nodding, Luke lets her lead him almost like a child. The family waiting room is crowded, the majority of surgeries scheduled for first thing in the morning at Memorial. He lets the nurse lead him to the communications desk where he leaves his name and who he is here for so the volunteer can find him when word comes.
Finding a seat on on of the industrial, easy clean chairs that seem to populate hospitals everywhere, Luke drops his bag between his feet and glances up at the clock, starting his familiar waiting room routine for the second time in a week.
Luke loses himself inside of his head, his thoughts dancing into his consciousness and then evaporating before he can focus on them. This continues until he finally pulls a notebook and pen from his bag, determined to still the flights of fancy in his mind and pin them down in his notebook under a web of ink.
He glances around at the worried, drawn faces of those condemned to wait and starts writing down impressions, from the smell of the industrial cleaner mingling with the tang of worry and fear that made the air almost cloying and thick in the room, his eyes sweep over the talismans brought to occupy anxious hands. Prayer beads clicking, rosaries swinging, the metal of crosses dangling and catching the light, the rustle of pages of magazines, bibles, korans and torahs flipped by nervous fingers.
Luke feels the world fall away, only dimly aware of what is going on around him as he continues writing, ideas starting to form in his head. The fleeting ideas now forming solid enough to join with other ideas as they make their way down to his moving hand and spill out in ink on the paper.
His name is called and he hears it faintly, but it’s not until he feels the familiar touch of Bob Hughes’ hand on his shoulder that the spell of creation is broken.
Luke blinks at the pages with his thoughts bled out all over them, absentmindedly rubbing at the stain of ink on the side of his finger as he looks up at Bob.
Bob motions for Luke to stand and waits while Luke repacks his notebook and pen in his bag. Once he stands, he follows Bob, blinking in the harsher florescent lights of the hallway. He keeps following Bob into a room near the end of the hallway, blinking his eyes yet again to adjust to the dim lighting inside.
Bob turns to face Luke, calm compassion radiating from him. “The surgery is going well, Luke. Lucinda is tolerating it beautifully. We’ve removed the tissue we are concerned about and we should have the results of the testing very shortly.”
Luke nods, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, “Okay. How does it look?”
Bob motions to the chairs and couch in the room. Luke sits on the couch and Bob takes a chair. “Luke, this is not my area of speciality, but Dr. Mehra did not seem pleased, even with her visual inspection of the the tissue before she gave it over to pathology to be tested.”
Trying to swallow around the dry, achy lump in his throat, Luke bites his bottom lip and nods. His voice breaks as he pushes it past the rock now sitting firmly over his vocal chords. “Wh..what do we do now?”
Bob gets up and crosses to a cabinet by the door, pulling out a water from the inside. He hands it to Luke, who shifts the weight of it from one hand to another. “This is the little room they bring people into, so they don’t upset the others when you tell them bad news, isn’t it?”
Bob puts a hand on Luke’s shoulder and sits beside him on the couch. “I’m not going to lie, Luke. Yes, it is. I’m not needed in the O.R. right now, so I figured we could both wait in here.” Bob takes the water bottle from Luke and twists it open, handing it back to Luke. “Drink. I also thought you’d have less of a chance being spotted by a wandering Snyder here. Any more of you visiting this place and the hospital is going to have to devote an entire shelf in our patient file room to just your family.”
Luke scoffs as he takes a sip of the water. “Like the Hughes family have any room to talk.”
Bob chuckles, conceding the point. “No, I don’t suppose we do.”
They lapse into silence, Luke sipping at his water and wishing like hell it was something stronger.
They both startle when a shrill series of beeps sound from Bob’s hip. He pulls a pager from the drawstring waist of his scrubs and excuses himself to pick up the phone.
Bob isn’t giving anything away as he speaks on the phone. Just a series of noncommittal hmms. Luke guesses that’s what makes him have such a good bedside manner, that unflappable quality that he seems to have. Luke squeezes the half empty bottle in his hands, until the plastic crackles in protest. He makes himself set it down on the table just as Bob hangs up the phone and sits back down beside Luke. Luke closes his eyes for a second and takes a slow, deep breath before opening them again. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Bob nods sympathetically, “It’s as we feared Luke. We’ll need more extensive testing of the composition of the mass, but it has positively been identified as cancerous cells. I’m sorry, son.”
Luke understands for the first time what writers describe as all the blood rush downwards in a moment. The sensation leaves him feeling lightheaded and he’s thankful he’s already sitting down or he knows he’d be laid out on the floor right now. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs and holding his head in his hands.
He can’t hear anything above the rushing sound of his blood flowing downwards into his feet, but he feels Bob’s touch on his back, the rubbing motion so familiar he has to blink back the moisture that’s collecting on his eyes, refusing to give in to letting the tears fall.
He takes a few more deep, steady breaths, before looking up at Bob.
Bob hands him the water bottle again and gestures for him to take a drink. “Luke, I know this is not what any of us wanted to hear. We still have her under anesthesia, awaiting your wishes. You and Lucinda discussed this outcome. What does she want us to do?”
Luke can almost hear Lucinda’s voice in his ear, telling him what she wants done. He knows the final call comes down to him, but there is nothing he can do but do as his grandmother wishes, knowing her reasoning is sound, but that when she wakes up, reason is probably going to take a back seat to the shock of emotions.
Taking another deep breath, he tells Bob what needs to be done.
When Luke finishes talking, he can tell that the decision that’s been made has shocked Bob a little. It’s only knowing him as long as he has that he’s even able to read the flicker of emotion that goes across his face.
“Luke, are you sure? This is what Lucinda has requested?”
Luke nods and reaches into his bag and pulls out an envelope with Bob’s name on it and hands it to him. Luke stares at the wall across from him as he waits for Bob to read the letter.
When Bob finishes the letter, he folds it and places it in the envelope again. A small, begrudgingly impressed smile lifts the corner of his mouth. “Okay. I’ll let them know how to proceed.” He stands and looks down at Luke, still staring at the wall. “Luke? Is there someone you can call right now?”
Luke slowly nods, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and pulling a paper from inside. He hands it to Bob, who reads it and looks down at Luke, putting his hand on the younger man’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “I’ll call right now.”
Luke nods and keeps staring at the wall, his hands balled into fists.
It’s nearly a half hour later when the door to the room opens and Luke looks up from the destruction of the water bottle he’s currently engaged in.
“Luke.”
The severely crippled water bottle is taken from his hands and a cup of steaming coffee from Java is pressed into his hand. Luke nods his thanks. “Hey.”
“This is a little different than our normal meeting spot.”
Luke nods as he sets the coffee cup on the table in front of him. “Can’t leave the room.”
He feels the couch dip as a body joins his on the cushions. “What’s going on.”
Luke sighs. How to explain without breaking any confidences... “Shit is going down. I can’t say what’s going on. I can’t even tell Noah.”
Luke hears a low whistle. “Damn, man. It must be pretty major if you can’t even tell Mayer what’s going on, seeing as he’s practically family to your whole brood.”
Luke nods, “It’s not just Noah, I’m the only one who knows.”
A hand reaches over and gently touches Luke’s arm. “So tell me what you can without saying too much.”
Luke turns away from his staring at the wall and turns to what he hopes is his salvation. “I can’t leave this room because if I do, I’m terrified I’m going to walk straight into a bar and not stop until I end up here myself.”
“But you had Dr. Hughes call me.”
Luke nods. “I did.”
“Good. Let’s work back from the edge from there.”