ATWT Fic: A Story About One Time Luke Got Sick
Title: A Story About One Time Luke Got Sick
Author: Myrna1_2_3
Fandom: As the World Turns
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Reid
Rating: R
Summary:
Disclaimer: Not-not-mine
Author’s Notes: Stand-alone story
Out of habit, Reid Oliver glanced at his watch as he left the surgical bay, but he had no idea if it was 5:30 in the morning or the evening. He’d been lobbying Luke to give him a 24-hour watch for his birthday, and he hoped the advertisement he’d torn out of a medical journal with a sticky note that read This one wasn’t too subtle.
Reid had been at the hospital at least 36 hours, though the last surgery had run just under five hours.
He looked at his phone and frowned when he saw that there were no new texts or messages from Luke since they’d texted each other two days prior when Reid cancelled their dinner plans over a four-car pile up on I-90.
Normally, Reid would chalk up the radio silence to whatever chaos was embroiling the Walsh-Snyder universe at any given moment, but he felt a niggle of concern. Wwen Reid had texted to Luke, Bad accident on I-90. Needed @ hospital. Will call later, Luke had texted back ok-picked up gala plague on Monday nywy-off to bed..
Luke complained that every time he attended a fund raiser, he ended up with a cold or some other infectious disease. Reid suggested that if he stuck to kissing asses and skipped all the mouths, Luke would fare much better. Then again, when you looked in the coffers after one of Luke’s schmooze fests, it was probably a good idea not to rock the boat. Reid couldn’t really identify what it was about Luke-and God knows he couldn’t emulate it-but strangely enough Reid had never even heard Luke actually ask anyone for a donation, and yet by the end of every cocktail-party conversation, someone was always asking Luke how they could unload some of their excess buckets of cash on his foundation.
And whenever Reid tried to get Luke to explain it, like on a drive home saying, “How in the hell did you get that blue hair to beg your permission to give you a six-figure donation?,” Luke would say something like, “Isn’t Dr. Bowers amazing? Do you know when she graduated from medical school there were only two other women in her class?”
Reid had shrugged at the fun fact. “It’s not like that many humans were roaming the earth at the time,” he had said dryly.
Which had earned him an acerbic glare from his boyfriend and then 10 minutes of blithering about the good and generous hearts Luke was so very fortunate to witness, followed by Luke’s prim observation that perhaps Reid’s sudden nausea was from too much prime rib and not Luke’s treaclely bullshit.
Reid grinned briefly to himself as he pressed Luke’s number and hoped it wasn’t 5:30 AM. The phone only rang twice before it was picked up, but there was no greeting on the other end. Reid went from perplexed to concerned when he heard Holden in the background saying, “No, don’t move him! They said to just cover him up and wait for the paramedics!”
A little boy’s voice spoke into Reid’s ear, “Hello?”
“Ethan?” Reid tightly gripped his phone. “It’s Doctor… uh, it’s Reid,” he said. “Can I talk to Luke?”
It took a few seconds, then Ethan said, “No.”
Ethan’s tone was a cross between sad and slasher-film creepy. Reid’s heart skipped a beat, then thumped painfully and started beating harder to make up for it.
In the background, Reid could hear more shouting--Lily calling to someone to watch the door while another voice said that Grandma was on her way to get the kids, and Holden saying the paramedics should come in through the back door. “Ethan,” Reid said carefully, “Tell me what’s happening.”
“Luke fell down,” Ethan said. “He shaked all over and now he’s on the kitchen floor and won’t wake up and Mommy called a amblence and Faith is going to open the door and Daddy gotted a blanket.” Ethan was quiet for a beat and then he whispered into the phone, sounding horrified, “Luke peed in his pants.”
Reid quickly connected the dots and realized Luke must have had a seizure. A flurry of questions rattled around his brain-just how sick had Luke been the last few days? Had he been to the doctor? Was he taking new meds? Was he running a temperature? How high? And most importantly, why hadn’t he been called?
Before Reid could formulate a question that a five year old could answer, Ethan said, “Are you gonna make him better?”
Luke had fussed at Reid in the past for his blunt responses to Ethan and Natalie and even Faith. Reid figured if they were old enough to ask a question about something, they were old enough to hear the answer. Luke had a murkier view of what to share and what to couch. As far as Luke was concerned, the only acceptable answer to, “Do you like this misshapen blob of clay I made in art class that bares no resemblance to any actual thing currently in existence?” was a hardy, “You bet I do!”
“When your sister is a starving artist living out of a cardboard box in some alley, you’re going to regret encouraging her to pursue a career she had no business even contemplating,” Reid said as Luke placed the clay blob on a shelf in his bedroom which was-not surprising in the least--full of other hideous blobs of crap.
“Or,” Luke said pointedly, “She could send us an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii for her latest gallery opening to thank her brother for his unwavering support during her formative years.”
“Your glass is half full of sparkly fairy dust,” Reid said.
“Yours is half empty and probably doused with rat poison,” Luke said.
Reid had laughed. “Good thing I’m here to pull you back down to earth,” he said, and tugged Luke close to kiss him.
Luke had laughed too. “Dr. Oliver, everyone knows I’m pulling you up into the clouds with me.”
“Are you?” Ethan repeated his question. “Are you gonna make Luke okay?”
Reid swallowed and said without a hint of equivocation, “Yes.”
“’kay,” Ethan said.
Then there was a harried voice in the background-Lily again-who said, “Ethan, baby, put that down. Grandma’s going to take you and Natalie to the farm…”
The phone clicked off and Reid just stood there, motionless. He must have made a decision to head down to Emergency because he blinked his eyes and suddenly there he was, waiting at the doors for the ambulance carrying Luke to arrive.
He was still just standing there, numbly, when Bob Hughes walked over. “Dr. Oliver,” he said. “Good. Luke Snyder’s on his way in; he’s had a seizure. I’m fairly sure it’s related to a staph infection, but it won’t hurt to have a neurologist on hand…”
“N…no,” Reid said, vaguely. “I can’t treat him.” He strained to hear if a siren was approaching but heard nothing.
“Excuse me?” Bob said, gaping. Then his eyes went dark and narrow, and Reid realized he had never seen Bob Hughes truly angry. “Damn it, Reid, I know he brought you here by less than ethical means, but I cannot believe you would refuse him medical treatment because of some grudge against…”
“Bob,” Reid interrupted. “Bob… Bob!” he finally had to raise his voice, but when he continued, he was almost whispering. “I can’t treat Luke because we’re… “ and Jesus Christ, this wasn’t how Reid imagined telling his boss he was dating one of the hospital’s leading benefactors.
Somehow, in all the stupid drama of Noah and the other bullshit that seemed to surround the fine citizens of Oakdale, Luke and Reid had managed to keep their relationship quiet from anyone other than immediate family. It wasn’t like there had been some big discussion around it-it was just one of those tacit agreements, and then pretty quickly it had turned in to a kind of game-seeing who would suspect, who would figure it out, who would blatantly ask about it, who would just gossip later about it.
“We’re involved,” Reid said, and Bob was back to gaping, but just for a beat or two.
He gave a succinct nod, schooled his face into passivity-a required talent working as a physician in Oakdale, no doubt-and said, “Understood.”
Reid couldn’t help the short laugh of disbelief at Bob’s equanimity. He wondered if he’d be called in to Bob’s office after the dust settled to talk about any of this or if it was just another day at the office for Bob. Before he could get too wound up about it, they were joined by another doctor Reid knew by reputation. “Nathan, thanks for coming,” Bob said. “Do you know Reid Oliver? Reid, Nathan Cordrey is Luke’s nephrologist.”
Reid had already checked out the man’s qualifications when he found out he was Luke’s kidney specialist. Aside from the ignominy that Luke’s doctor was a pediatric nephrologist, Reid had been pleased with everything he’d learned about the man.
Cordrey obviously knew who Reid was because he looked at him strangely and said, “Did Luke hit his head?”
Reid shook his head, and for the second time found himself speechless. He gruffly cleared his throat and said, “Luke is… “ but his voice trailed off as he stared into the ER wondering how much longer until Luke got there.
Boyfriend was a stupid word. Frivolous. It certainly didn’t convey what they were, what they were going to be. Lover was treaclely nonsense, partner equally useless. Reid didn’t know the word so he just looked at his shoes and shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
“Luke and Reid are in a relationship,” Bob said succinctly, and Reid was only mildly appalled that his life was now reduced to a Facebook status.
Cordrey stood there, staring blankly at Reid, then the corner of his lips twitched. He reached up quickly and covered his mouth with his hand, but the amusement dancing in his eyes was obvious.
Reid glared sardonically at the man who gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like it was covering for a laugh.
“I’m going to um…” Cordrey gestured toward the ER. “Walk away now.”
Moments later, paramedics were pushing Luke through the door. Lily and Holden followed behind, faces pinched with concern and more than a little shocked to see Reid stand there waiting for them.
There was no time to explain how he’d come to be there-Luke was fighting forcefully against the restraints of the gurney, and as the paramedics placed wheels to the ground, Luke managed to loosen one of the straps and nearly pull himself upright.
Luke’s mother and father were trying to calm Luke down to no avail, but all it took was for Reid to lean into Luke’s line of sight, to smile gently and say, “Hey,” for Luke to go perfectly still.
Reid winced at the heat when he brushed his hand across Luke’s forehead, but managed to smile again when Luke breathlessly said, “Reid.”
“Yeah,” Reid said. “You okay?”
Luke looked confused and struggled against the restraints. “Reid? I can’t… I can’t get up, it won’t move…”
“Calm down,” Reid said. “You have a high fever, Luke, an infection, and you had a seizure. Do you remember? This anxiety you’re feeling is a residue of the seizure. We’re gonna get you checked out, started on some high power antibiotics, and you’re gonna feel better, okay?”
Luke nodded, still looking uncertain as Reid started to step away. Luke tightened his hold on Reid’s arm. “Reid,” he said, definitively, as though it were the only possible answer to a question that had just been asked.
Reid grinned at him and nodded. “Exactly,” he said, stepping back and letting the paramedics take Luke back to the ER. He nodded at Lily and Holden and quietly followed Luke's gurney.
Reid hovered at the doorway just long enough to hear the paramedics report out on Luke initial condition. His blood pressure was on the low end of normal , his temp was close to 104, he was anxious and confused, but that was expected following a seizure. He’d been sick for the last two days, had already been to the doctor and had a prescription for an antibiotic. He’d had a migraine for a day and a half and had vomited numerous times over the course of the last 36 hours.
With a satisfied nod that Luke’s treatment would be straightforward enough, Reid headed back to the waiting area. Holden was standing in the same spot he’d been when Reid left. “Lily’s gone to get coffee,” Holden said.
And it wasn’t like Reid had done anything particularly heroic in calming Luke down, so it’s not that he was expecting some kind of hero’s salute or anything, but he was still taken aback by the hard, anguished look on Holden’s face. Holden looked away, slowly shaking his head. “You’re, what, ten? Fifteen years older than Luke?” he said.
Reid shrugged his reply, unwilling to offer anything when he didn’t know what point Holden was trying to make.
Holden swallowed hard a couple of times before finally gesturing at Reid in frustration. “Luke’s not on equal footing in anything with you,” he said plaintively. “Experience-wise, career-wise, in terms of self-confidence and-and expectations, in understanding how to make the compromises necessary to… “ He trailed off, vehemently shaking his head, and Reid understood that Holden had been biting his tongue for some time about Reid’s relationship with Luke. And, really, where better to let it all out than the lobby of the Oakdale Memorial emergency room? Reid willfully refused to roll his eyes as Holden continued, “You may think because Luke doesn’t have financial concerns that somehow he just waltzes through life without a care in the world, but I don’t think you have any idea what he’s been through to get where…”
“I don’t understand how all of you continually underestimate Luke,” Reid said, careful to keep his tone neutral.
Holden didn’t look like he appreciated being told anything about his son at the moment, but he lifted an eyebrow in invitation for Reid to continue.
Reid shrugged. “I am established in my career,” he conceded. “And it’s no secret I don’t spend a lot of time wallowing in self-doubt.” Reid allowed himself a rueful smile at the understatement. He was quiet for a moment, unsure exactly what he was willing to expose; what he was willing to share with Luke’s father, who wasn’t really entitled to the information as far as Reid was concerned. “But Luke?” Reid shook his head. “He knows with far more experience than I do what it means to try to build a life with someone; what you have to risk; what you have to be willing to give. He doesn’t lose footing to me in any of this. “
Holden winced, probably unmoved by Reid’s words. If he expected Reid to swear life and limb on a future free of toil and strife for Holden’s winsome boy, well, it wasn’t up to Reid to point out the stupidity of life with a Disney cartoon as your guide.
Lily returned with coffee just as Cordrey came out to talk to them. Reid wasn’t interested in the Cliff’s Notes version, so he planned to have a sit-down with Cordrey after Luke was moved to a hospital room. Instead, he slipped back into the ER bay, reaching for Luke’s outstretched hand as he approached the bedside. They’d already started the IV antibiotic and probably an anti-anxiety med as well. His temp wasn’t any lower yet, but no doubt it would start heading down soon.
Reid leaned down and kissed Luke’s forehead. “You okay?” he said.
Luke smiled at him and nodded. “There goes Who Knows What When,” he said, eyes drifting over toward the nurse who was trying to hide a smile as she cleaned up the diagnostic tools around Luke.
Reid snorted. “Yeah, that ship sailed when Bob practically had me drilling a hole in your skull to look around, and I had to tell him I couldn’t.”
“On account of how much you looooove me,” Luke teased.
Reid pursed his lips as the nurse coughed to ineffectually cover a snort of amusement. Reid had a feeling he was going to grow intimately familiar with that move over the next few days. “You’re lucky you’re both delirious and drugged to the gills right now.”
“Mmm,” Luke agreed. “I might start puking again, but I don’t care,” he said.
“Have you had a migraine before?” Reid asked him, gently carding his fingers through Luke’s hair.
Luke nodded carefully, as though he didn’t trust that the worst of the headache was gone. “Yeah.”
“Scale this one,” Reid said. “Worst ever? Top three?”
Luke was quiet for a moment, considering, then said. “Top… twelve.”
“How’s your vision?” Reid asked.
“Okay,” Luke said. “Oh God,” he moaned suddenly, hands coming up to cover his eyes. “Ethan! Is he okay?”
Reid frowned. “Ethan’s fine,” he said.
“He saw me,” Luke said, face contorted in misery. “The seizure. He saw it. Oh God, he’s gonna…”
“He’s fine,” Reid said again. “Soon as you’re on the upswing he can come see that you’re okay.”
“Tomorrow,” Luke insisted.
Reid kept combing his fingers through Luke’s hair. “At least wait until we know this round of antibiotics isn’t going to kill you,” he said dryly.
“Wouldn’t I be in a coma by now?” Luke said.
Reid snorted in amusement, “Probably.”
“What’s the diagnosis anyway?” Luke asked.
“Staph infection I bet,” Reid said. “From now on you wear a surgical mask and tox suit when you go to one of those stupid fundraisers.”
“I’m already OCD with the hand sanitizer,” Luke said, sounding more irritated than anything.
Reid helpfully expanded the list. “And your car, dirty dishes, laundry, the grocery store, your precious books, your…”
“Civilization begins with order, grows with liberty and dies with chaos,” Luke quoted smugly.
“You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star,” Reid said, voice dripping with exaggerated sincerity.
Luke snorted derisively and said, “Nietzsche--how pedestrian.”
Reid laughed. “Be careful, Mr. Snyder,” he warned. “You know how I turned on I get in the face of your elitism.”
Luke smiled. “You’re embarrassingly easy, Dr. Oliver.”
Reid grinned back. “I’ll have you know I’m extremely proud of how slutty I am.” He kissed Luke’s forehead again. “They’re gonna move you to a room now, then I’m gonna let Mommy and Daddy fawn over you for awhile. I’ll be back in a few.”
Luke tightened his hold on Reid’s hand, and proved he wasn’t drugged too far to the gills. “I really like Dr. Cordrey,” he said. “Don’t say something to make him fire me, okay?”
Reid cast him a look that radiated sincerity and good will, but astonishingly, it did absolutely nothing to allay Luke’s concerns.
Cordrey was just finishing with Lily and Holden, and he managed to nod at Reid and motion toward his office without too much of a condemned-man vibe. Reid sighed deeply at the cartoon murals on the walls and rolled his eyes when Cordrey offered him one of the miniature plastic chairs.
Reid sat down in a grown-up chair and said, “Fill me in.”
“It’s a staph infection. He was sick from the migraine and kept losing the antibiotic and the infection moved quickly through his system. I’m going to keep him here while we complete a course of IV antibiotics.”
“With his immune system?” Reid said. “Why not get him home as quickly as we can? A few days in here, and he’s going to have full blown pneumonia in addition to a resistant staph infection.”
“We usually start Luke off on oral meds, but he’s never tolerated them well, and he ends up here as often as not.”
“Aren’t there any trials we should be considering?” Reid said. “More aggressive therapies that would…”
Cordrey shook his head. “Luke wouldn’t make it past round one of the vetting process. He’s rarely gone more than three months without a hospital stay; his reactions to new medications or the mixing of medications have never been without complication… “ Cordrey had more to say but his words trailed off and he studied the file in front of him with pursed lips.
Dejected, Reid sat back in his chair and sighed. “I know about the kidney,” he said quietly.
Cordrey nodded like he suspected-or hoped-as much. “Luke’s kidney is doing fine-it’s the effects of the immunosuppressants he struggles with and regardless of the meds he’s on, they’re all going to compromise his immune system, so there’s no gains to be had by entering a trial.”
“What about newer protocols where the anti-rejection meds are eventually eliminated?”
Cordrey made a face that suggested he didn’t think much of them. “Too inconclusive for me to suggest to one of my patients. Gilbert and Dillenbach at Mayo are encouraged. Lachet in Cleveland writes a text book condemning them every time one of the journals even mentions the idea.”
“Cutting out Prednisone used to be considered revolutionary,” Reid pointed out.
Cordrey nodded. “True,” he said. “By the time Luke’s ready for another transplant, there should be a lot more research available; more compelling results. We’ll consider it then, just like every other protocol.”
Reid glanced out the window, noting that Cordrey’s view of a fountain and garden was preferable to the one Reid had of the parking lot. “One of these days, Luke’s struggle with the meds is going to throw him into renal failure anyway. If the meds can be reduced or withdrawn altogether, that’s bound to be the better option.”
“Let’s say we wean Luke off the meds for now-the first thing we’ll do to prepare him for another transplant is put him on anti-rejection meds. Given his history with the drugs, we’ll take a three-week waiting period, and turn it in to eight or twelve and create greater stress than necessary, certainly not ideal in a transplant situation. I don’t see it as a viable choice for Luke.”
Reid leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I don’t like the idea of giving a pass to more avant-garde treatments just because Memorial is a sweet little Mom ‘n’ Pop operation…”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Cordrey said. “I’m privy to every study, every trial, every alternative treatment method available, and I can sure as hell guarantee that if we were at the Mayo, or Johns Hopkins or Dallas General, I wouldn’t be sitting here dishing treatment procedures with my 20 year old patient’s 30-something boyfriend without jumping through a boatload of hoops and signing our weight in affidavits. The bigger the hospital the bigger the bureaucracy. You give and you get at a hospital the size of Memorial.”
Reid ducked his head. “Sorry, you’re right,” he said. He hadn’t meant to impugn Cordrey’s skill.
Cordrey waved away the notion that he’d taken offense, and said. “Reid, you and I both know that whatever you want the answer to be, there’s a doctor somewhere who’ll give it to you. I’m offering my opinion. I can give you the name of a doctor who’ll agree to take Luke off his current protocol and sub in another; I can give you the name of a doctor who’ll agree to tapering off the anti-rejection meds entirely; I can give you another who’ll tell you…”
“I get it, I get it,” Reid said. He sighed, reset his shoulders and said snidely, “I’m guessing my confidence is hampered by the preponderance of stuffed animals with band-aids where their kidneys should be.”
Cordrey just laughed. “We usually keep ‘em here until they’re around 24 or 25,” he said, with a shrug. “Another half-decade or so, and Luke will be ready for a big boy doctor.”
Reid rolled his eyes, but he stood up and offered his hand to Cordrey, satisfied for the moment that he knew everything he needed to know. “So, best guess--how long until the gossip mill implodes on itself over all of this?”
“When did the bomb drop?” Cordrey asked.
“About two hours ago,” Reid guessed.
Cordrey nodded succinctly. “Then I’d say about negative one hour, fifty-five minutes.”
Cordrey’s estimate was spot on, give or take a minute on either side. Reid felt every single pair of eyes on him as he walked the hospital halls, the reactions generally coming down one of two ways-wide-eyed astonishment and disbelief versus narrow-eyed suspicion that Reid had done something nefarious to force the angelic Luke Snyder under his spell.
It was hardly fair-if there was any nefariousness at play in their relationship, it had come 100 percent from Luciano Eduardo, thank you all for nothing.
Luckily for every last overly infested individual at the hospital, Reid had far greater sources of irritation at the moment. It took Reid all of 15 minutes to determine that Luke Snyder was a terrible patient-and that impression only solidified over the next three days.
Reid gave him a pass for the first 24 hours because he was sick, but eventually, Reid’s patience-never his best event-ran out.
Because the thing was, Luke? Complained about absolutely nothing.
When a nurse woke him up in the middle of the night to take his vitals, he thanked her and usually asked after her husband or children or cat or house plant or whatever else he’d learned about her in the time it took to check his blood pressure. He picked half-heartedly at the hospital food but smiled winningly at the person who delivered it and smiled regretfully when they returned to take away whatever Reid hadn’t polished off. He greeted every visitor like their presence was the most wonderful, selfless act Luke had ever witnessed, even though most of them just blabbed about whatever ridiculous state their lives were in while Luke silently laid there-his energy no doubt depleted by the soul-sapping stupidity of whoever was talking. Worst of all, Luke apologized incessantly-to his parents for worrying them and taking up their time to visit with him; to the nurses who rushed in to see to a beeping monitor, to his doctor for not more successfully fending off infection, to the orderly who appeared to clear out the emesis bowl or mop the floor when Luke missed the bowl entirely.
“Stop apologizing,” Reid finally huffed in irritation. Luke was looking at the door where an orderly had just left, and he had such a forlorn look on his face, you’d think the guy had just walked off with Luke’s puppy, not the soiled sheet he’d puked all over. “You’re not being inconsiderate,” Reid reminded him. “You’re sick, and their job is to take care of sick people.”
“Gross sick people,” Luke said morosely.
Reid shrugged his agreement. “Anesthetized on a table with skull cap removed is the ideal patient presentation,” he said, then turned his attention to more important matters. “Now see, this is untenable,” he groused. “We circled chocolate pudding on the menu this morning and instead we get peaches. In what universe are those two things remotely interchangeable? When I’m Chief of Staff, things are gonna be different around here, mark my words.”
“They probably just ran out of chocolate pudding,” Luke said.
“So they give a major hospital donor, not to mention the boyfriend of a renowned neurosurgeon the peaches? Incompetent decision-making to say the least.”
“I like peaches better,” Luke said.
“Of course you do,” Reid said, his eye roll threatening to wake patients on the next floor.
Luke laughed. “What? I do!” he said. “They’re packed in syrup-it’s not like they’re healthier than the pudding.”
Their discussion was cut short with a visit from Lily and Ethan. Lily ducked out to visit a friend of hers in the maternity ward while Ethan dealt a hand of Go Fish to Luke. Reid declined, preferring to sit down with a backlog of medical journals while the two brothers had at it.
“Do you have any sevens?” Luke asked.
Ethan slyly licked the corner of his mouth, eyes opened extra wide. “Go fish,” he said.
“E?” Luke’s drawling tone telegraphed his suspicion, seeing as two turns ago Ethan had asked Luke for sevens.
Ethan frowned and threw two sevens at Luke. “Reid says it’s not lying when you’re playing cards. It’s bluffing.”
“Reid is a sore loser, and no one wants to play cards with him anymore,” Luke told him.
Ethan nodded easily, then said, “Reid said you poop rainbows, that’s not true, right?”
“He said what?” Luke asked with a laugh.
“When we were at dinner, Casey said all the nurses love you the most of anyone, and Reid said it was because you poop rainbows.”
Luke laughed. “I think he just meant because I’m polite to the nurses. Nice to them.” And then he realized what Reid had been trying to keep Ethan from blurting out in front of Luke’s parents the day before, and he rested his head back against his pillow, slowly shaking his head in exasperated amusement.
Luke had asked Reid to take Ethan to dinner when his parents arrived that evening. “Mom and Dad wanted to talk to Dr. Cordrey about some new protocol Dad read about,” Luke had explained.
Reid had lifted an imperious brow. “And I’m not invited?” he’d said with exaggerated offense. “A man who spends the majority of his life explaining simple medical concepts to dim-witted lay people?”
Something in Luke’s own raised brow suggested that something about Reid’s response was precisely the reason he wasn’t invited. “Will you take Ethan downstairs to eat when they get here? He hasn’t said much about the seizure and everything, and I want to make sure he’s okay; that he understands as much as he can.”
Reid had shrugged, agreeing only to take Ethan to dinner. “We’re sticking with the Cyclosporine,” he said.
Luke had shrugged back. “Yeah, I already talked to Dr. Cordrey, but my parents want to discuss it so…”
Reid snorted. “You act like we’re sticking with the Cyclosporine because it’s what Dr. Cordrey wants.”
“Oh believe me, I know any illusions of free will over my medical treatment are just…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reid asked.
Luke had rolled his eyes. “If Cordrey presented us with two different options, and you wanted Treatment A, and I was totally convinced that Treatment B was the only one I would even consider, what would we go with?” he asked pointedly.
“Treatment A,” Reid had said without pause.
“Yeah, and if Cordrey presented us with two different options, and you wanted Treatment C, and my parents were absolutely insistent that Treatment D was the only viable option, what would we go with?”
“These aren’t very hard questions,” Reid said.
Luke had nodded. “So I repeat, take Ethan down to get something to eat while I maintain the illusion of free will over my future medical care.”
“You know,” Reid said, leaning in close and pressing his forehead to Luke’s, “You’re kinda hot when you’re ordering me around like I’m some newbie intern…”
Luke had snorted and pushed him away. “You are so…”
“Sexy?” Reid guessed, nodding knowingly. “You know, even when I turn it down to simmer, it’s still right there for everyone to see.”
“I was going to go with mental,” Luke said.
“Only because you’re still overwhelmed by what a sexy motherfucker your boyfriend is,” Reid had said.
It turned out Ethan wasn’t all that traumatized by witnessing Luke’s seizure, although he was fascinated with the idea of Luke’s losing control of his bladder.
Reid guessed that when you were only so far out of diapers, the specter of pants wetting loomed fairly large in your psyche.
Reid had tried to explain it using a metaphor of a thunderstorm cutting of electrical power to your house and the way all of the electrical equipment buzzed and whirred for just a few seconds when the power cut back on, but that just reminded Ethan-inexplicably--of this kid in his kindergarten class who wet his pants during nap time thentook them off and hid them in the dress-up clothes, but everybody knew what had happened on account of how he was running around naked during snack time.
Reid had nothing to say after that story and just sat there staring blankly at the kid, until Ethan had asked, “Am I gonna get a seizure and go to the hospital too?”
“No,” Reid had said. “Luke had a seizure because he got sick, and he got sick because his germ fighters can’t keep out the germs that make you get sick as well as ours can.”
“How come?” Ethan had asked.
“He has to take special medicine to make everything work right inside of him, and that medicine is mostly helping, but it makes his germ fighters not so strong.”
“But I got strong germ fighters?” Ethan said.
“Yep,” Reid said. “You and me? Our germ fighters are extra tough, like those football players we were watching, remember? Those big guys that were guarding the quarterback? Kept knocking down everyone that even got close?”
“Go Bucks!” Ethan said happily.
Reid had chuckled, remembering how Ethan refused to budge from his support of Ohio State, even though the Fighting Illini were the home team. “But Ohio State wins all the time,” Ethan had explained to his father who pointed out that the rest of them were rooting for Illinois. “I wanna be for the team that wins!”
“Right,” Reid had said. “Well, our germ fighters are like those football players. And when some virus or bug tries to make us sick, they just tackle it right down and send that sickness packing.”
“And Luke doesn’t got big germ fighters?” Ethan asked, looking worried.
Reid shook his head. “Not like us,” he said.
“Can I give him some of mine?” Ethan had asked.
Reid grinned at the little Snyder and wondered if there was a Dudley-Do-Right gene. “No, we can’t give him any of ours,” he said. “But there are things you can do to help Luke with his wimpy little germ fighters.”
The conversation derailed at that point when Casey Hughes joined them and treated Ethan to his drole repertoire of “see food” and other sure-fire, kindergarten comedy hits.
Still, Ethan was bursting with pride when they returned to Luke’s room, calling, “Mommy, Daddy, guess what? My germ fighters are bigger and stronger than Luke’s!”
Ethan ran up to Luke’s bedside and affectionately laid his head against Luke’s arm. “I can’t give you any of my big germ fighters,” he said to Luke. “But Reid says I can still help you if I wash my hands and keep my sneezes to myself and when I don’t want the rest of my dessert, I should give it to him instead of you ‘cause he’s got strong germ fighters too and my germs won’t bother him.”
“Boy that Reid is one nice guy, isn’t he?” Luke said.
“Yeah,” said Ethan. “But not as nice as you. He doesn’t poo…”
Reid had shot over to the bedside, covering Ethan’s mouth with his hand. “Oh ho ho, there we go, tell Big Brother Luke bye bye for now. He’s all tuckered out.”
“Bye bye,” Ethan had said from behind Reid’s hand.
Luke now glanced over at Reid with a look that said he knew Reid wasn’t reading that journal as intently as he was pretending. Ethan blithely continued, “Casey said it’s even more funny that you poop rainbows ‘cause Reid is such a poophead.” Ethan was quiet for a beat, then said, “Reid doesn’t care if you talk about poop at dinner.”
“Obviously,” Luke said. “Don’t forget that Mom and Dad do mind, all right?”
Ethan shrugged, and without looking up from his journal, Reid said, “People who pawn off their kids on the first free babysitter they can find get what they pay for.”
“Reid says everybody poops,” Ethan said with great seriousness. “It’s just a regular body thing, and people shouldn’t get so uptighted about it.”
Reid didn’t even bother trying to keep a straight face any longer. “Kid’s got a great memory,” he said. “He’s gonna be all right.”
“You just like hearing yourself quoted ad nauseum,” Luke said.
“Ha!” Reid said. “You’re the only one doing anything ad nauseum around here.”
“What’s ad nauseum?” Ethan asked.
Luke chuckled. “It means until you feel sick; throw up.”
And wouldn’t you know, Lily walked in right as an enthusiastic Ethan said, “Hey! If you did poop rainbows, I bet you’d throw ‘em up too!”
Reid pretended he didn’t hear Luke’s muttered, “Coward!” when he quickly turned and slipped out of the room without another word.
Two days later, Luke was at the end of the antibiotic regime and ready to be released. Reid stopped in early before visiting hours, knowing they’d be inundated before long with Snyders celebrating Luke’s return home. Reid was determined to broach a subject with Luke he’d been thinking about for awhile. Ducking Lily’s disapproval of “poop talk” wasn’t Reid’s only brush with fear it seemed.
“So I’m in the grocery store yesterday,” Reid said by way of greeting. “And some blue-haired old lady accosts me at the deli counter and starts goin’ off on how I better look after you ‘cause next to the Baby Jesus there’s no one sweeter on God’s green earth than our own Saint Luke the Divine.” Luke chuckled as Reid continued. “What did your parents do-erect a billboard?”
Luke glanced thoughtfully at the ceiling. “What time was it?” he asked.
“I don’t know, one, one-thirty? What does that matter?”
Luke shrugged. “It was after church,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“So the reverend says Amen and the first thing your parents do is high-tail it over to your fourth grade teacher and tell her their little lamb chop is screwing the new neurosurgeon in town?”
“Aw, it was Mrs. Hamish?” Luke said, eyes softening in affection. “How’s she doing? She had a stroke last year.”
“She can threaten to beat a person with her cane,” Reid said, offering a reenactment with his coffee cup, “So I’d say she’s doing pretty well.”
“Oh my God, Reid, you have to check her out and make sure she’s okay!” Luke said. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. Let me see your phone. Did you sync your calendar this morning? How long does it take to give someone a post-stroke check-up? An hour or two?”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Reid said, backing out of Luke’s reach before he could grab Reid’s cell phone.
Luke shrugged at him, all wide eyes and open heart. “My mom will tell her Paula’s going to call her and set up an appointment, okay?” Luke said.
Reid sighed in capitulation and rolled his eyes at how quickly things could get off track. “Okay look,” he said. “I can be an asshole. I’m hyper-focused on my work, I’m selfish and blunt and can’t be bothered with the fake social crap that might fool people into thinking I’m something I’m not and have no interest in ever being.”
Luke gave him an odd look, “Umm… reasons why I’m so lucky you’re my boyfriend?” he guessed.
“But now that this insane town knows about us, everywhere I go someone’s in my face to make sure Our Lady of Perpetual Preciousness is worshipped as the second coming, not to mention every three months I’m gonna have to lose my shit ‘cause of your useless immune system.”
Luke shrugged helplessly and hazard another guess. “Reasons why you’re so lucky I’m your boyfriend?”
Reid took another deep breath and plowed on. “What I’m saying is since the cat’s out of the bag about us anyway, it’s stupid not to move in together so I figure we’ll start house hunting as soon as you can string two or three hours of consciousness together.”
Luke grinned, then laughed gleefully. “Oh my God, your Let’s Move in Together talk is about how compatibly awful we are?”
Reid shrugged, trying for casual with his tone and missing by a light year or two. “I just figure if you’re going to be convulsing on anyone’s kitchen floor, it should be mine. “ Reid shrugged again and corrected himself. “Ours.”
Luke smiled at Reid’s hand, held between both of his. Then he hugged Reid’s arm to his chest and said with exaggerated delight. “This is exactly how I imagined you asking me to move in with you!”
Reid was hyper aware of the uncharacteristic heat of a blush on his face. “Just shut up and say yes,” he said, which just made Luke laugh more.
“Yes!” Luke said around his laughter which was tinged with more than a little relief. He shrugged at Reid’s unasked question. “I worry, you know? That you’ll get tired of the drama.” He nodded at the hospital room around them.
Reid rolled his eyes. “This isn’t drama,” he scoffed. “This is medical illness. Something I’m actually quite adept at handling, you may be surprised to learn. Drama is your OMG I can’t blow you right now, my sister-aunt-cousin-father-brother-uncle-neighbor just fell in a well and I have to singlehandedly bark out an SOS! That’s drama.”
Luke stared at him, mouth open slightly. “I have nothing to say to that.”
Reid brushed a hand through Luke’s hair and shook his head at him. “You don’t seem to question it when I say ‘I love you;’ how come whenever I show you, it’s like you’ve never seen word put to action in your entire life?”
Luke smiled at him, that doe-eyed, curl-your-toes smile that would warm Reid if he was sitting on an ice berg in the middle of the North Pole. “Well it’s kinda dumb when you think about it, isn’t it?” Luke said softly, eyes shining at Reid.
“It is,” Reid said, giving him a hard, unyielding look. “Luke, I am the best at everything I do. That’s a fact. And maybe I don’t do shit if I can’t be the best at it, but that doesn’t negate the fact that if I do something, I am, without question, the best at it. So there’s no reason in the world that I wouldn’t love you exponentially more and better than anyone else ever could.”
Luke gave a high-pitched, near-hysterical giggle. “That’s the stupidest, most awesome thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he said.
Reid shrugged. “See? Superlatives all the way around. It’s how I roll, Mr. Snyder.”
And Reid had to remind himself that living in a Disney cartoon was not only stupid, but impossible, because he could have sworn that Luke had two chubby pink hearts beating where his eyes should be. “I love you,” Luke said, and maybe some of the dreaminess in his voice was because he was falling asleep, but only some of it.
“I love you too,” Reid said.
“More and better than anyone else,” Luke drowsily whispered to himself.
Reid grinned down at Luke and watched his face settle into sleep. He brushed his fingertips across Luke’s forehead, thumb caressing his cheekbones. He pressed a soft kiss to Luke’s lips and couldn’t resist correcting him. “Exponentially more.”
#
Author: Myrna1_2_3
Fandom: As the World Turns
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Reid
Rating: R
Summary:
Disclaimer: Not-not-mine
Author’s Notes: Stand-alone story
Out of habit, Reid Oliver glanced at his watch as he left the surgical bay, but he had no idea if it was 5:30 in the morning or the evening. He’d been lobbying Luke to give him a 24-hour watch for his birthday, and he hoped the advertisement he’d torn out of a medical journal with a sticky note that read This one wasn’t too subtle.
Reid had been at the hospital at least 36 hours, though the last surgery had run just under five hours.
He looked at his phone and frowned when he saw that there were no new texts or messages from Luke since they’d texted each other two days prior when Reid cancelled their dinner plans over a four-car pile up on I-90.
Normally, Reid would chalk up the radio silence to whatever chaos was embroiling the Walsh-Snyder universe at any given moment, but he felt a niggle of concern. Wwen Reid had texted to Luke, Bad accident on I-90. Needed @ hospital. Will call later, Luke had texted back ok-picked up gala plague on Monday nywy-off to bed..
Luke complained that every time he attended a fund raiser, he ended up with a cold or some other infectious disease. Reid suggested that if he stuck to kissing asses and skipped all the mouths, Luke would fare much better. Then again, when you looked in the coffers after one of Luke’s schmooze fests, it was probably a good idea not to rock the boat. Reid couldn’t really identify what it was about Luke-and God knows he couldn’t emulate it-but strangely enough Reid had never even heard Luke actually ask anyone for a donation, and yet by the end of every cocktail-party conversation, someone was always asking Luke how they could unload some of their excess buckets of cash on his foundation.
And whenever Reid tried to get Luke to explain it, like on a drive home saying, “How in the hell did you get that blue hair to beg your permission to give you a six-figure donation?,” Luke would say something like, “Isn’t Dr. Bowers amazing? Do you know when she graduated from medical school there were only two other women in her class?”
Reid had shrugged at the fun fact. “It’s not like that many humans were roaming the earth at the time,” he had said dryly.
Which had earned him an acerbic glare from his boyfriend and then 10 minutes of blithering about the good and generous hearts Luke was so very fortunate to witness, followed by Luke’s prim observation that perhaps Reid’s sudden nausea was from too much prime rib and not Luke’s treaclely bullshit.
Reid grinned briefly to himself as he pressed Luke’s number and hoped it wasn’t 5:30 AM. The phone only rang twice before it was picked up, but there was no greeting on the other end. Reid went from perplexed to concerned when he heard Holden in the background saying, “No, don’t move him! They said to just cover him up and wait for the paramedics!”
A little boy’s voice spoke into Reid’s ear, “Hello?”
“Ethan?” Reid tightly gripped his phone. “It’s Doctor… uh, it’s Reid,” he said. “Can I talk to Luke?”
It took a few seconds, then Ethan said, “No.”
Ethan’s tone was a cross between sad and slasher-film creepy. Reid’s heart skipped a beat, then thumped painfully and started beating harder to make up for it.
In the background, Reid could hear more shouting--Lily calling to someone to watch the door while another voice said that Grandma was on her way to get the kids, and Holden saying the paramedics should come in through the back door. “Ethan,” Reid said carefully, “Tell me what’s happening.”
“Luke fell down,” Ethan said. “He shaked all over and now he’s on the kitchen floor and won’t wake up and Mommy called a amblence and Faith is going to open the door and Daddy gotted a blanket.” Ethan was quiet for a beat and then he whispered into the phone, sounding horrified, “Luke peed in his pants.”
Reid quickly connected the dots and realized Luke must have had a seizure. A flurry of questions rattled around his brain-just how sick had Luke been the last few days? Had he been to the doctor? Was he taking new meds? Was he running a temperature? How high? And most importantly, why hadn’t he been called?
Before Reid could formulate a question that a five year old could answer, Ethan said, “Are you gonna make him better?”
Luke had fussed at Reid in the past for his blunt responses to Ethan and Natalie and even Faith. Reid figured if they were old enough to ask a question about something, they were old enough to hear the answer. Luke had a murkier view of what to share and what to couch. As far as Luke was concerned, the only acceptable answer to, “Do you like this misshapen blob of clay I made in art class that bares no resemblance to any actual thing currently in existence?” was a hardy, “You bet I do!”
“When your sister is a starving artist living out of a cardboard box in some alley, you’re going to regret encouraging her to pursue a career she had no business even contemplating,” Reid said as Luke placed the clay blob on a shelf in his bedroom which was-not surprising in the least--full of other hideous blobs of crap.
“Or,” Luke said pointedly, “She could send us an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii for her latest gallery opening to thank her brother for his unwavering support during her formative years.”
“Your glass is half full of sparkly fairy dust,” Reid said.
“Yours is half empty and probably doused with rat poison,” Luke said.
Reid had laughed. “Good thing I’m here to pull you back down to earth,” he said, and tugged Luke close to kiss him.
Luke had laughed too. “Dr. Oliver, everyone knows I’m pulling you up into the clouds with me.”
“Are you?” Ethan repeated his question. “Are you gonna make Luke okay?”
Reid swallowed and said without a hint of equivocation, “Yes.”
“’kay,” Ethan said.
Then there was a harried voice in the background-Lily again-who said, “Ethan, baby, put that down. Grandma’s going to take you and Natalie to the farm…”
The phone clicked off and Reid just stood there, motionless. He must have made a decision to head down to Emergency because he blinked his eyes and suddenly there he was, waiting at the doors for the ambulance carrying Luke to arrive.
He was still just standing there, numbly, when Bob Hughes walked over. “Dr. Oliver,” he said. “Good. Luke Snyder’s on his way in; he’s had a seizure. I’m fairly sure it’s related to a staph infection, but it won’t hurt to have a neurologist on hand…”
“N…no,” Reid said, vaguely. “I can’t treat him.” He strained to hear if a siren was approaching but heard nothing.
“Excuse me?” Bob said, gaping. Then his eyes went dark and narrow, and Reid realized he had never seen Bob Hughes truly angry. “Damn it, Reid, I know he brought you here by less than ethical means, but I cannot believe you would refuse him medical treatment because of some grudge against…”
“Bob,” Reid interrupted. “Bob… Bob!” he finally had to raise his voice, but when he continued, he was almost whispering. “I can’t treat Luke because we’re… “ and Jesus Christ, this wasn’t how Reid imagined telling his boss he was dating one of the hospital’s leading benefactors.
Somehow, in all the stupid drama of Noah and the other bullshit that seemed to surround the fine citizens of Oakdale, Luke and Reid had managed to keep their relationship quiet from anyone other than immediate family. It wasn’t like there had been some big discussion around it-it was just one of those tacit agreements, and then pretty quickly it had turned in to a kind of game-seeing who would suspect, who would figure it out, who would blatantly ask about it, who would just gossip later about it.
“We’re involved,” Reid said, and Bob was back to gaping, but just for a beat or two.
He gave a succinct nod, schooled his face into passivity-a required talent working as a physician in Oakdale, no doubt-and said, “Understood.”
Reid couldn’t help the short laugh of disbelief at Bob’s equanimity. He wondered if he’d be called in to Bob’s office after the dust settled to talk about any of this or if it was just another day at the office for Bob. Before he could get too wound up about it, they were joined by another doctor Reid knew by reputation. “Nathan, thanks for coming,” Bob said. “Do you know Reid Oliver? Reid, Nathan Cordrey is Luke’s nephrologist.”
Reid had already checked out the man’s qualifications when he found out he was Luke’s kidney specialist. Aside from the ignominy that Luke’s doctor was a pediatric nephrologist, Reid had been pleased with everything he’d learned about the man.
Cordrey obviously knew who Reid was because he looked at him strangely and said, “Did Luke hit his head?”
Reid shook his head, and for the second time found himself speechless. He gruffly cleared his throat and said, “Luke is… “ but his voice trailed off as he stared into the ER wondering how much longer until Luke got there.
Boyfriend was a stupid word. Frivolous. It certainly didn’t convey what they were, what they were going to be. Lover was treaclely nonsense, partner equally useless. Reid didn’t know the word so he just looked at his shoes and shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
“Luke and Reid are in a relationship,” Bob said succinctly, and Reid was only mildly appalled that his life was now reduced to a Facebook status.
Cordrey stood there, staring blankly at Reid, then the corner of his lips twitched. He reached up quickly and covered his mouth with his hand, but the amusement dancing in his eyes was obvious.
Reid glared sardonically at the man who gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like it was covering for a laugh.
“I’m going to um…” Cordrey gestured toward the ER. “Walk away now.”
Moments later, paramedics were pushing Luke through the door. Lily and Holden followed behind, faces pinched with concern and more than a little shocked to see Reid stand there waiting for them.
There was no time to explain how he’d come to be there-Luke was fighting forcefully against the restraints of the gurney, and as the paramedics placed wheels to the ground, Luke managed to loosen one of the straps and nearly pull himself upright.
Luke’s mother and father were trying to calm Luke down to no avail, but all it took was for Reid to lean into Luke’s line of sight, to smile gently and say, “Hey,” for Luke to go perfectly still.
Reid winced at the heat when he brushed his hand across Luke’s forehead, but managed to smile again when Luke breathlessly said, “Reid.”
“Yeah,” Reid said. “You okay?”
Luke looked confused and struggled against the restraints. “Reid? I can’t… I can’t get up, it won’t move…”
“Calm down,” Reid said. “You have a high fever, Luke, an infection, and you had a seizure. Do you remember? This anxiety you’re feeling is a residue of the seizure. We’re gonna get you checked out, started on some high power antibiotics, and you’re gonna feel better, okay?”
Luke nodded, still looking uncertain as Reid started to step away. Luke tightened his hold on Reid’s arm. “Reid,” he said, definitively, as though it were the only possible answer to a question that had just been asked.
Reid grinned at him and nodded. “Exactly,” he said, stepping back and letting the paramedics take Luke back to the ER. He nodded at Lily and Holden and quietly followed Luke's gurney.
Reid hovered at the doorway just long enough to hear the paramedics report out on Luke initial condition. His blood pressure was on the low end of normal , his temp was close to 104, he was anxious and confused, but that was expected following a seizure. He’d been sick for the last two days, had already been to the doctor and had a prescription for an antibiotic. He’d had a migraine for a day and a half and had vomited numerous times over the course of the last 36 hours.
With a satisfied nod that Luke’s treatment would be straightforward enough, Reid headed back to the waiting area. Holden was standing in the same spot he’d been when Reid left. “Lily’s gone to get coffee,” Holden said.
And it wasn’t like Reid had done anything particularly heroic in calming Luke down, so it’s not that he was expecting some kind of hero’s salute or anything, but he was still taken aback by the hard, anguished look on Holden’s face. Holden looked away, slowly shaking his head. “You’re, what, ten? Fifteen years older than Luke?” he said.
Reid shrugged his reply, unwilling to offer anything when he didn’t know what point Holden was trying to make.
Holden swallowed hard a couple of times before finally gesturing at Reid in frustration. “Luke’s not on equal footing in anything with you,” he said plaintively. “Experience-wise, career-wise, in terms of self-confidence and-and expectations, in understanding how to make the compromises necessary to… “ He trailed off, vehemently shaking his head, and Reid understood that Holden had been biting his tongue for some time about Reid’s relationship with Luke. And, really, where better to let it all out than the lobby of the Oakdale Memorial emergency room? Reid willfully refused to roll his eyes as Holden continued, “You may think because Luke doesn’t have financial concerns that somehow he just waltzes through life without a care in the world, but I don’t think you have any idea what he’s been through to get where…”
“I don’t understand how all of you continually underestimate Luke,” Reid said, careful to keep his tone neutral.
Holden didn’t look like he appreciated being told anything about his son at the moment, but he lifted an eyebrow in invitation for Reid to continue.
Reid shrugged. “I am established in my career,” he conceded. “And it’s no secret I don’t spend a lot of time wallowing in self-doubt.” Reid allowed himself a rueful smile at the understatement. He was quiet for a moment, unsure exactly what he was willing to expose; what he was willing to share with Luke’s father, who wasn’t really entitled to the information as far as Reid was concerned. “But Luke?” Reid shook his head. “He knows with far more experience than I do what it means to try to build a life with someone; what you have to risk; what you have to be willing to give. He doesn’t lose footing to me in any of this. “
Holden winced, probably unmoved by Reid’s words. If he expected Reid to swear life and limb on a future free of toil and strife for Holden’s winsome boy, well, it wasn’t up to Reid to point out the stupidity of life with a Disney cartoon as your guide.
Lily returned with coffee just as Cordrey came out to talk to them. Reid wasn’t interested in the Cliff’s Notes version, so he planned to have a sit-down with Cordrey after Luke was moved to a hospital room. Instead, he slipped back into the ER bay, reaching for Luke’s outstretched hand as he approached the bedside. They’d already started the IV antibiotic and probably an anti-anxiety med as well. His temp wasn’t any lower yet, but no doubt it would start heading down soon.
Reid leaned down and kissed Luke’s forehead. “You okay?” he said.
Luke smiled at him and nodded. “There goes Who Knows What When,” he said, eyes drifting over toward the nurse who was trying to hide a smile as she cleaned up the diagnostic tools around Luke.
Reid snorted. “Yeah, that ship sailed when Bob practically had me drilling a hole in your skull to look around, and I had to tell him I couldn’t.”
“On account of how much you looooove me,” Luke teased.
Reid pursed his lips as the nurse coughed to ineffectually cover a snort of amusement. Reid had a feeling he was going to grow intimately familiar with that move over the next few days. “You’re lucky you’re both delirious and drugged to the gills right now.”
“Mmm,” Luke agreed. “I might start puking again, but I don’t care,” he said.
“Have you had a migraine before?” Reid asked him, gently carding his fingers through Luke’s hair.
Luke nodded carefully, as though he didn’t trust that the worst of the headache was gone. “Yeah.”
“Scale this one,” Reid said. “Worst ever? Top three?”
Luke was quiet for a moment, considering, then said. “Top… twelve.”
“How’s your vision?” Reid asked.
“Okay,” Luke said. “Oh God,” he moaned suddenly, hands coming up to cover his eyes. “Ethan! Is he okay?”
Reid frowned. “Ethan’s fine,” he said.
“He saw me,” Luke said, face contorted in misery. “The seizure. He saw it. Oh God, he’s gonna…”
“He’s fine,” Reid said again. “Soon as you’re on the upswing he can come see that you’re okay.”
“Tomorrow,” Luke insisted.
Reid kept combing his fingers through Luke’s hair. “At least wait until we know this round of antibiotics isn’t going to kill you,” he said dryly.
“Wouldn’t I be in a coma by now?” Luke said.
Reid snorted in amusement, “Probably.”
“What’s the diagnosis anyway?” Luke asked.
“Staph infection I bet,” Reid said. “From now on you wear a surgical mask and tox suit when you go to one of those stupid fundraisers.”
“I’m already OCD with the hand sanitizer,” Luke said, sounding more irritated than anything.
Reid helpfully expanded the list. “And your car, dirty dishes, laundry, the grocery store, your precious books, your…”
“Civilization begins with order, grows with liberty and dies with chaos,” Luke quoted smugly.
“You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star,” Reid said, voice dripping with exaggerated sincerity.
Luke snorted derisively and said, “Nietzsche--how pedestrian.”
Reid laughed. “Be careful, Mr. Snyder,” he warned. “You know how I turned on I get in the face of your elitism.”
Luke smiled. “You’re embarrassingly easy, Dr. Oliver.”
Reid grinned back. “I’ll have you know I’m extremely proud of how slutty I am.” He kissed Luke’s forehead again. “They’re gonna move you to a room now, then I’m gonna let Mommy and Daddy fawn over you for awhile. I’ll be back in a few.”
Luke tightened his hold on Reid’s hand, and proved he wasn’t drugged too far to the gills. “I really like Dr. Cordrey,” he said. “Don’t say something to make him fire me, okay?”
Reid cast him a look that radiated sincerity and good will, but astonishingly, it did absolutely nothing to allay Luke’s concerns.
Cordrey was just finishing with Lily and Holden, and he managed to nod at Reid and motion toward his office without too much of a condemned-man vibe. Reid sighed deeply at the cartoon murals on the walls and rolled his eyes when Cordrey offered him one of the miniature plastic chairs.
Reid sat down in a grown-up chair and said, “Fill me in.”
“It’s a staph infection. He was sick from the migraine and kept losing the antibiotic and the infection moved quickly through his system. I’m going to keep him here while we complete a course of IV antibiotics.”
“With his immune system?” Reid said. “Why not get him home as quickly as we can? A few days in here, and he’s going to have full blown pneumonia in addition to a resistant staph infection.”
“We usually start Luke off on oral meds, but he’s never tolerated them well, and he ends up here as often as not.”
“Aren’t there any trials we should be considering?” Reid said. “More aggressive therapies that would…”
Cordrey shook his head. “Luke wouldn’t make it past round one of the vetting process. He’s rarely gone more than three months without a hospital stay; his reactions to new medications or the mixing of medications have never been without complication… “ Cordrey had more to say but his words trailed off and he studied the file in front of him with pursed lips.
Dejected, Reid sat back in his chair and sighed. “I know about the kidney,” he said quietly.
Cordrey nodded like he suspected-or hoped-as much. “Luke’s kidney is doing fine-it’s the effects of the immunosuppressants he struggles with and regardless of the meds he’s on, they’re all going to compromise his immune system, so there’s no gains to be had by entering a trial.”
“What about newer protocols where the anti-rejection meds are eventually eliminated?”
Cordrey made a face that suggested he didn’t think much of them. “Too inconclusive for me to suggest to one of my patients. Gilbert and Dillenbach at Mayo are encouraged. Lachet in Cleveland writes a text book condemning them every time one of the journals even mentions the idea.”
“Cutting out Prednisone used to be considered revolutionary,” Reid pointed out.
Cordrey nodded. “True,” he said. “By the time Luke’s ready for another transplant, there should be a lot more research available; more compelling results. We’ll consider it then, just like every other protocol.”
Reid glanced out the window, noting that Cordrey’s view of a fountain and garden was preferable to the one Reid had of the parking lot. “One of these days, Luke’s struggle with the meds is going to throw him into renal failure anyway. If the meds can be reduced or withdrawn altogether, that’s bound to be the better option.”
“Let’s say we wean Luke off the meds for now-the first thing we’ll do to prepare him for another transplant is put him on anti-rejection meds. Given his history with the drugs, we’ll take a three-week waiting period, and turn it in to eight or twelve and create greater stress than necessary, certainly not ideal in a transplant situation. I don’t see it as a viable choice for Luke.”
Reid leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I don’t like the idea of giving a pass to more avant-garde treatments just because Memorial is a sweet little Mom ‘n’ Pop operation…”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Cordrey said. “I’m privy to every study, every trial, every alternative treatment method available, and I can sure as hell guarantee that if we were at the Mayo, or Johns Hopkins or Dallas General, I wouldn’t be sitting here dishing treatment procedures with my 20 year old patient’s 30-something boyfriend without jumping through a boatload of hoops and signing our weight in affidavits. The bigger the hospital the bigger the bureaucracy. You give and you get at a hospital the size of Memorial.”
Reid ducked his head. “Sorry, you’re right,” he said. He hadn’t meant to impugn Cordrey’s skill.
Cordrey waved away the notion that he’d taken offense, and said. “Reid, you and I both know that whatever you want the answer to be, there’s a doctor somewhere who’ll give it to you. I’m offering my opinion. I can give you the name of a doctor who’ll agree to take Luke off his current protocol and sub in another; I can give you the name of a doctor who’ll agree to tapering off the anti-rejection meds entirely; I can give you another who’ll tell you…”
“I get it, I get it,” Reid said. He sighed, reset his shoulders and said snidely, “I’m guessing my confidence is hampered by the preponderance of stuffed animals with band-aids where their kidneys should be.”
Cordrey just laughed. “We usually keep ‘em here until they’re around 24 or 25,” he said, with a shrug. “Another half-decade or so, and Luke will be ready for a big boy doctor.”
Reid rolled his eyes, but he stood up and offered his hand to Cordrey, satisfied for the moment that he knew everything he needed to know. “So, best guess--how long until the gossip mill implodes on itself over all of this?”
“When did the bomb drop?” Cordrey asked.
“About two hours ago,” Reid guessed.
Cordrey nodded succinctly. “Then I’d say about negative one hour, fifty-five minutes.”
Cordrey’s estimate was spot on, give or take a minute on either side. Reid felt every single pair of eyes on him as he walked the hospital halls, the reactions generally coming down one of two ways-wide-eyed astonishment and disbelief versus narrow-eyed suspicion that Reid had done something nefarious to force the angelic Luke Snyder under his spell.
It was hardly fair-if there was any nefariousness at play in their relationship, it had come 100 percent from Luciano Eduardo, thank you all for nothing.
Luckily for every last overly infested individual at the hospital, Reid had far greater sources of irritation at the moment. It took Reid all of 15 minutes to determine that Luke Snyder was a terrible patient-and that impression only solidified over the next three days.
Reid gave him a pass for the first 24 hours because he was sick, but eventually, Reid’s patience-never his best event-ran out.
Because the thing was, Luke? Complained about absolutely nothing.
When a nurse woke him up in the middle of the night to take his vitals, he thanked her and usually asked after her husband or children or cat or house plant or whatever else he’d learned about her in the time it took to check his blood pressure. He picked half-heartedly at the hospital food but smiled winningly at the person who delivered it and smiled regretfully when they returned to take away whatever Reid hadn’t polished off. He greeted every visitor like their presence was the most wonderful, selfless act Luke had ever witnessed, even though most of them just blabbed about whatever ridiculous state their lives were in while Luke silently laid there-his energy no doubt depleted by the soul-sapping stupidity of whoever was talking. Worst of all, Luke apologized incessantly-to his parents for worrying them and taking up their time to visit with him; to the nurses who rushed in to see to a beeping monitor, to his doctor for not more successfully fending off infection, to the orderly who appeared to clear out the emesis bowl or mop the floor when Luke missed the bowl entirely.
“Stop apologizing,” Reid finally huffed in irritation. Luke was looking at the door where an orderly had just left, and he had such a forlorn look on his face, you’d think the guy had just walked off with Luke’s puppy, not the soiled sheet he’d puked all over. “You’re not being inconsiderate,” Reid reminded him. “You’re sick, and their job is to take care of sick people.”
“Gross sick people,” Luke said morosely.
Reid shrugged his agreement. “Anesthetized on a table with skull cap removed is the ideal patient presentation,” he said, then turned his attention to more important matters. “Now see, this is untenable,” he groused. “We circled chocolate pudding on the menu this morning and instead we get peaches. In what universe are those two things remotely interchangeable? When I’m Chief of Staff, things are gonna be different around here, mark my words.”
“They probably just ran out of chocolate pudding,” Luke said.
“So they give a major hospital donor, not to mention the boyfriend of a renowned neurosurgeon the peaches? Incompetent decision-making to say the least.”
“I like peaches better,” Luke said.
“Of course you do,” Reid said, his eye roll threatening to wake patients on the next floor.
Luke laughed. “What? I do!” he said. “They’re packed in syrup-it’s not like they’re healthier than the pudding.”
Their discussion was cut short with a visit from Lily and Ethan. Lily ducked out to visit a friend of hers in the maternity ward while Ethan dealt a hand of Go Fish to Luke. Reid declined, preferring to sit down with a backlog of medical journals while the two brothers had at it.
“Do you have any sevens?” Luke asked.
Ethan slyly licked the corner of his mouth, eyes opened extra wide. “Go fish,” he said.
“E?” Luke’s drawling tone telegraphed his suspicion, seeing as two turns ago Ethan had asked Luke for sevens.
Ethan frowned and threw two sevens at Luke. “Reid says it’s not lying when you’re playing cards. It’s bluffing.”
“Reid is a sore loser, and no one wants to play cards with him anymore,” Luke told him.
Ethan nodded easily, then said, “Reid said you poop rainbows, that’s not true, right?”
“He said what?” Luke asked with a laugh.
“When we were at dinner, Casey said all the nurses love you the most of anyone, and Reid said it was because you poop rainbows.”
Luke laughed. “I think he just meant because I’m polite to the nurses. Nice to them.” And then he realized what Reid had been trying to keep Ethan from blurting out in front of Luke’s parents the day before, and he rested his head back against his pillow, slowly shaking his head in exasperated amusement.
Luke had asked Reid to take Ethan to dinner when his parents arrived that evening. “Mom and Dad wanted to talk to Dr. Cordrey about some new protocol Dad read about,” Luke had explained.
Reid had lifted an imperious brow. “And I’m not invited?” he’d said with exaggerated offense. “A man who spends the majority of his life explaining simple medical concepts to dim-witted lay people?”
Something in Luke’s own raised brow suggested that something about Reid’s response was precisely the reason he wasn’t invited. “Will you take Ethan downstairs to eat when they get here? He hasn’t said much about the seizure and everything, and I want to make sure he’s okay; that he understands as much as he can.”
Reid had shrugged, agreeing only to take Ethan to dinner. “We’re sticking with the Cyclosporine,” he said.
Luke had shrugged back. “Yeah, I already talked to Dr. Cordrey, but my parents want to discuss it so…”
Reid snorted. “You act like we’re sticking with the Cyclosporine because it’s what Dr. Cordrey wants.”
“Oh believe me, I know any illusions of free will over my medical treatment are just…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reid asked.
Luke had rolled his eyes. “If Cordrey presented us with two different options, and you wanted Treatment A, and I was totally convinced that Treatment B was the only one I would even consider, what would we go with?” he asked pointedly.
“Treatment A,” Reid had said without pause.
“Yeah, and if Cordrey presented us with two different options, and you wanted Treatment C, and my parents were absolutely insistent that Treatment D was the only viable option, what would we go with?”
“These aren’t very hard questions,” Reid said.
Luke had nodded. “So I repeat, take Ethan down to get something to eat while I maintain the illusion of free will over my future medical care.”
“You know,” Reid said, leaning in close and pressing his forehead to Luke’s, “You’re kinda hot when you’re ordering me around like I’m some newbie intern…”
Luke had snorted and pushed him away. “You are so…”
“Sexy?” Reid guessed, nodding knowingly. “You know, even when I turn it down to simmer, it’s still right there for everyone to see.”
“I was going to go with mental,” Luke said.
“Only because you’re still overwhelmed by what a sexy motherfucker your boyfriend is,” Reid had said.
It turned out Ethan wasn’t all that traumatized by witnessing Luke’s seizure, although he was fascinated with the idea of Luke’s losing control of his bladder.
Reid guessed that when you were only so far out of diapers, the specter of pants wetting loomed fairly large in your psyche.
Reid had tried to explain it using a metaphor of a thunderstorm cutting of electrical power to your house and the way all of the electrical equipment buzzed and whirred for just a few seconds when the power cut back on, but that just reminded Ethan-inexplicably--of this kid in his kindergarten class who wet his pants during nap time thentook them off and hid them in the dress-up clothes, but everybody knew what had happened on account of how he was running around naked during snack time.
Reid had nothing to say after that story and just sat there staring blankly at the kid, until Ethan had asked, “Am I gonna get a seizure and go to the hospital too?”
“No,” Reid had said. “Luke had a seizure because he got sick, and he got sick because his germ fighters can’t keep out the germs that make you get sick as well as ours can.”
“How come?” Ethan had asked.
“He has to take special medicine to make everything work right inside of him, and that medicine is mostly helping, but it makes his germ fighters not so strong.”
“But I got strong germ fighters?” Ethan said.
“Yep,” Reid said. “You and me? Our germ fighters are extra tough, like those football players we were watching, remember? Those big guys that were guarding the quarterback? Kept knocking down everyone that even got close?”
“Go Bucks!” Ethan said happily.
Reid had chuckled, remembering how Ethan refused to budge from his support of Ohio State, even though the Fighting Illini were the home team. “But Ohio State wins all the time,” Ethan had explained to his father who pointed out that the rest of them were rooting for Illinois. “I wanna be for the team that wins!”
“Right,” Reid had said. “Well, our germ fighters are like those football players. And when some virus or bug tries to make us sick, they just tackle it right down and send that sickness packing.”
“And Luke doesn’t got big germ fighters?” Ethan asked, looking worried.
Reid shook his head. “Not like us,” he said.
“Can I give him some of mine?” Ethan had asked.
Reid grinned at the little Snyder and wondered if there was a Dudley-Do-Right gene. “No, we can’t give him any of ours,” he said. “But there are things you can do to help Luke with his wimpy little germ fighters.”
The conversation derailed at that point when Casey Hughes joined them and treated Ethan to his drole repertoire of “see food” and other sure-fire, kindergarten comedy hits.
Still, Ethan was bursting with pride when they returned to Luke’s room, calling, “Mommy, Daddy, guess what? My germ fighters are bigger and stronger than Luke’s!”
Ethan ran up to Luke’s bedside and affectionately laid his head against Luke’s arm. “I can’t give you any of my big germ fighters,” he said to Luke. “But Reid says I can still help you if I wash my hands and keep my sneezes to myself and when I don’t want the rest of my dessert, I should give it to him instead of you ‘cause he’s got strong germ fighters too and my germs won’t bother him.”
“Boy that Reid is one nice guy, isn’t he?” Luke said.
“Yeah,” said Ethan. “But not as nice as you. He doesn’t poo…”
Reid had shot over to the bedside, covering Ethan’s mouth with his hand. “Oh ho ho, there we go, tell Big Brother Luke bye bye for now. He’s all tuckered out.”
“Bye bye,” Ethan had said from behind Reid’s hand.
Luke now glanced over at Reid with a look that said he knew Reid wasn’t reading that journal as intently as he was pretending. Ethan blithely continued, “Casey said it’s even more funny that you poop rainbows ‘cause Reid is such a poophead.” Ethan was quiet for a beat, then said, “Reid doesn’t care if you talk about poop at dinner.”
“Obviously,” Luke said. “Don’t forget that Mom and Dad do mind, all right?”
Ethan shrugged, and without looking up from his journal, Reid said, “People who pawn off their kids on the first free babysitter they can find get what they pay for.”
“Reid says everybody poops,” Ethan said with great seriousness. “It’s just a regular body thing, and people shouldn’t get so uptighted about it.”
Reid didn’t even bother trying to keep a straight face any longer. “Kid’s got a great memory,” he said. “He’s gonna be all right.”
“You just like hearing yourself quoted ad nauseum,” Luke said.
“Ha!” Reid said. “You’re the only one doing anything ad nauseum around here.”
“What’s ad nauseum?” Ethan asked.
Luke chuckled. “It means until you feel sick; throw up.”
And wouldn’t you know, Lily walked in right as an enthusiastic Ethan said, “Hey! If you did poop rainbows, I bet you’d throw ‘em up too!”
Reid pretended he didn’t hear Luke’s muttered, “Coward!” when he quickly turned and slipped out of the room without another word.
Two days later, Luke was at the end of the antibiotic regime and ready to be released. Reid stopped in early before visiting hours, knowing they’d be inundated before long with Snyders celebrating Luke’s return home. Reid was determined to broach a subject with Luke he’d been thinking about for awhile. Ducking Lily’s disapproval of “poop talk” wasn’t Reid’s only brush with fear it seemed.
“So I’m in the grocery store yesterday,” Reid said by way of greeting. “And some blue-haired old lady accosts me at the deli counter and starts goin’ off on how I better look after you ‘cause next to the Baby Jesus there’s no one sweeter on God’s green earth than our own Saint Luke the Divine.” Luke chuckled as Reid continued. “What did your parents do-erect a billboard?”
Luke glanced thoughtfully at the ceiling. “What time was it?” he asked.
“I don’t know, one, one-thirty? What does that matter?”
Luke shrugged. “It was after church,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“So the reverend says Amen and the first thing your parents do is high-tail it over to your fourth grade teacher and tell her their little lamb chop is screwing the new neurosurgeon in town?”
“Aw, it was Mrs. Hamish?” Luke said, eyes softening in affection. “How’s she doing? She had a stroke last year.”
“She can threaten to beat a person with her cane,” Reid said, offering a reenactment with his coffee cup, “So I’d say she’s doing pretty well.”
“Oh my God, Reid, you have to check her out and make sure she’s okay!” Luke said. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. Let me see your phone. Did you sync your calendar this morning? How long does it take to give someone a post-stroke check-up? An hour or two?”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Reid said, backing out of Luke’s reach before he could grab Reid’s cell phone.
Luke shrugged at him, all wide eyes and open heart. “My mom will tell her Paula’s going to call her and set up an appointment, okay?” Luke said.
Reid sighed in capitulation and rolled his eyes at how quickly things could get off track. “Okay look,” he said. “I can be an asshole. I’m hyper-focused on my work, I’m selfish and blunt and can’t be bothered with the fake social crap that might fool people into thinking I’m something I’m not and have no interest in ever being.”
Luke gave him an odd look, “Umm… reasons why I’m so lucky you’re my boyfriend?” he guessed.
“But now that this insane town knows about us, everywhere I go someone’s in my face to make sure Our Lady of Perpetual Preciousness is worshipped as the second coming, not to mention every three months I’m gonna have to lose my shit ‘cause of your useless immune system.”
Luke shrugged helplessly and hazard another guess. “Reasons why you’re so lucky I’m your boyfriend?”
Reid took another deep breath and plowed on. “What I’m saying is since the cat’s out of the bag about us anyway, it’s stupid not to move in together so I figure we’ll start house hunting as soon as you can string two or three hours of consciousness together.”
Luke grinned, then laughed gleefully. “Oh my God, your Let’s Move in Together talk is about how compatibly awful we are?”
Reid shrugged, trying for casual with his tone and missing by a light year or two. “I just figure if you’re going to be convulsing on anyone’s kitchen floor, it should be mine. “ Reid shrugged again and corrected himself. “Ours.”
Luke smiled at Reid’s hand, held between both of his. Then he hugged Reid’s arm to his chest and said with exaggerated delight. “This is exactly how I imagined you asking me to move in with you!”
Reid was hyper aware of the uncharacteristic heat of a blush on his face. “Just shut up and say yes,” he said, which just made Luke laugh more.
“Yes!” Luke said around his laughter which was tinged with more than a little relief. He shrugged at Reid’s unasked question. “I worry, you know? That you’ll get tired of the drama.” He nodded at the hospital room around them.
Reid rolled his eyes. “This isn’t drama,” he scoffed. “This is medical illness. Something I’m actually quite adept at handling, you may be surprised to learn. Drama is your OMG I can’t blow you right now, my sister-aunt-cousin-father-brother-uncle-neighbor just fell in a well and I have to singlehandedly bark out an SOS! That’s drama.”
Luke stared at him, mouth open slightly. “I have nothing to say to that.”
Reid brushed a hand through Luke’s hair and shook his head at him. “You don’t seem to question it when I say ‘I love you;’ how come whenever I show you, it’s like you’ve never seen word put to action in your entire life?”
Luke smiled at him, that doe-eyed, curl-your-toes smile that would warm Reid if he was sitting on an ice berg in the middle of the North Pole. “Well it’s kinda dumb when you think about it, isn’t it?” Luke said softly, eyes shining at Reid.
“It is,” Reid said, giving him a hard, unyielding look. “Luke, I am the best at everything I do. That’s a fact. And maybe I don’t do shit if I can’t be the best at it, but that doesn’t negate the fact that if I do something, I am, without question, the best at it. So there’s no reason in the world that I wouldn’t love you exponentially more and better than anyone else ever could.”
Luke gave a high-pitched, near-hysterical giggle. “That’s the stupidest, most awesome thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he said.
Reid shrugged. “See? Superlatives all the way around. It’s how I roll, Mr. Snyder.”
And Reid had to remind himself that living in a Disney cartoon was not only stupid, but impossible, because he could have sworn that Luke had two chubby pink hearts beating where his eyes should be. “I love you,” Luke said, and maybe some of the dreaminess in his voice was because he was falling asleep, but only some of it.
“I love you too,” Reid said.
“More and better than anyone else,” Luke drowsily whispered to himself.
Reid grinned down at Luke and watched his face settle into sleep. He brushed his fingertips across Luke’s forehead, thumb caressing his cheekbones. He pressed a soft kiss to Luke’s lips and couldn’t resist correcting him. “Exponentially more.”
#