NEW! "The Promised Land - Chapter 3" (Nuke fic)
Title: The Promised Land (3/?)
Pairing: Nuke Endgame (Temporary Luke/Reid)
Rating: M for Language
Prompt: Noah gets a dog.
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. Don’t make no money.
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The next morning, Noah is his old self again. Or rather his new self, the one who isn’t Luke’s boyfriend anymore.
“Did I say anything weird last night?” he asks.
Luke blinks at him in surprise. “You don’t remember?”
Noah frowns over his coffee, which Luke brought him from Java. Noah hates hospital coffee. “I remember you finding me in Olde Town,” he admits. “After that it gets pretty fuzzy. I didn’t say anything embarrassing, did I?”
“Well,” Luke teases. “You did keep saying how hot I am,”
Noah laughs but still looks anxious, and Luke relents.
“You were a little tweaked from the pain meds, but then you went to sleep.” He doesn’t have the heart to tell Noah he hallucinated about his dad.
“Oh. Okay,” Noah says. “Good.” He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead.
“Does your head still hurt?” Luke asks.
“A little,” Noah admits.
They don’t get much chance to talk after that. Reid whisks Noah away for some tests, and Luke forces himself to go to work at the foundation. Moses hides under Luke’s desk all day and gnaws on his shoelaces while he’s on the phone. After work, he swings by the hospital and is surprised to find Noah still there, and even more surprised to find out his surgery has been scheduled for later that week. But when he asks why, Noah just shrugs.
“I guess Dr. Oliver thinks it’s time.”
“Are you scared?” Luke asks.
“A little,” Noah says softly. He rubs Moses’ ears for a minute, then gives a twisted smile. “But hey, your boyfriend’s the best there is, right?”
Luke winces, but tries to match Noah’s cheerful tone. “That’s what they say.”
Noah sobers and pets Moses a little more. “Listen,” he says. “I have a favor to ask. I know I don’t have a right to ask you for anything--"
“Name it,” Luke says.
Noah smiles, a genuine one now. “I called the vet, and they said I could board Moses there while I have the surgery.”
“Oh.” Luke is surprised. “You don’t want to leave him at home with Ali?”
“She works really long hours.” Noah looks abashed. “I know it’s stupid, but I don’t want him to get lonely. They have a kennel at the vet, so at least he’ll be with other dogs.”
“I could take him.” Luke can’t believe he’s actually offering. “Or he could stay at the farm.”
Noah shakes his head. “I can’t ask that. You’ve done so much already. But...if you could maybe drive him to the vet for me?”
“Sure,” Luke says.
“I know I’m being a total dork, but..." Noah blushes. “Could you check in on him once or twice? Just so he knows I haven’t forgotten him?” Noah’s voice catches a little, and he clears his throat. “I know he’s just a dog, but he’s all I’ve got.”
“It’s okay,” Luke says quickly. “I’d be happy to.”
“Yeah?” Noah grins, the old grin that Luke remembers, the one that lights up his whole face. “You hear that, Moses?” he asks. “You’re going to doggy camp.”
Moses whines. He whines more when Luke drops him off at the vet’s office. It’s the same vet who treated Moses after he got hit by the car, so Luke knows they’ll take good care of him. But he can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as Moses is led away by the veterinary assistant, head down and tail between his legs. He shoots Luke one last mournful look, as if he’s being taken for execution.
When Luke gets back to the hospital, Noah is sleeping again, so he tracks down Reid in the staff lounge.
“You’re doing Noah's surgery this week?”
“That’s right.” Reid bites into his sandwich.
“Why?
“Why not?”
“Because you’ve been saying for months you need to wait, so Noah could do therapy and stuff.”
Reid shrugs. “I changed my mind.”
“But the new wing isn’t even finished.”
Reid smiles thinly. “Fortunately, my genius resides in my hands, not in the architecture.”
Luke puts his hands on his hips. “Why don’t you take Noah to Dallas and do the surgery there?”
“Because I don’t want to risk moving him.”
It finally sinks in. “This is bad,” Luke says. His fingers feel icy cold. His knees give way, and he sits abruptly across from Reid.
Reid frowns. “I never said that.”
“But it is, right? That’s why you’re doing the surgery,” Luke presses. “What did the test results show? Is there something wrong? What’s causing the headaches?”
“You know I can’t talk to you about this.”
“Don’t pull that doctor-patient confidentiality crap on me!” Luke snaps. “Since when do you care about the rules?”
“I have to get back to work.” Reid shoves back his chair and walks away.
Luke stands. “Get back here and talk to me!”
“I have to see to my patients.”
“Reid!”
Reid stops in the doorway with his back to Luke.
“Please,” Luke says quietly.
Reid sighs and turns. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Does Noah know how bad it is?” Luke asks.
Reid tilts his head and gives Luke a withering stare. “Has Noah ever asked me to sugar-coat his diagnosis? To lie to him? Go easy on him?”
“No.”
“Then why would he start now?” Reid walks away, closing the door behind him.
Luke is desperate to talk to Noah, but over the next few days it seems they can never get a moment alone. The headaches are pretty much constant now, so Noah spends a lot of time sleeping. (Reid adjusts the dosage on his pain meds so, thankfully, there are no repeat visits from the Colonel.) And when he’s awake, it seems he’s either on the phone or filling out endless piles of forms. At one point, Luke catches Alison leaving Noah’s room. She’s blinking back tears and clutching a stack of papers to her chest.
“What’s going on?” Luke asks suspiciously. “What are those?” He peers at the papers, but Alison slips them inside a folder, out of sight.
“Just paperwork,” she says. “Hospital stuff.”
Noah’s on the phone again, so Luke approaches Reid, knowing he’ll tell him the truth.
“They’re Noah’s advanced care directive,” Reid says. “Commonly referred to as a living will.”
Luke can feel panic spreading through him. “Why would he need a living will?”
“There’s always the chance something could go wrong in surgery,” Reid says smoothly.
“So you made him fill one out.”
“Of course not.” Reid looks irritated. “But I wish more of my patients would. It makes my job a hell of a lot easier. Noah’s an organ donor, too,” he adds. “Even his eyes could be harvested. Technically, there’s nothing wrong with them.”
“I think I’m gonna puke.” Luke knows, intellectually, that organ donation a good thing, but he feels physically ill at the thought of Noah’s beautiful blue eyes in anyone else’s face.
“He’s being proactive,” Reid points out. “I find it refreshing.”
But when Luke tries to talk to Noah about the surgery, he shrugs off his concerns. Not to mention, there’s a steady stream of visitors, so they never get a moment alone. It seems like Luke is always catching a glimpse of random people leaving the room, and it’s a puzzling group. Sure, Casey makes sense. He and Noah are friends. But Luke swears he also sees Tom Hughes ducking around a corner. Holden and Lily and Molly drop by -- but so does his brother Aaron, although he hurries away before Luke can talk to him. And of course Grandma Emma visits, but so does Dusty Donovan.
“What’s he doing here?” Luke asks bluntly when he finds Noah and Dusty deep in conversation.
Noah grins. “We’re playing Pictionary.”
“Very funny,” Luke grouses.
“Actually,” Dusty says. “I was just wishing Noah luck. Not that he needs it. He’s got the best surgeon around. I should know.”
“Oh.” Luke remembers that Reid operated on Dusty a month or so back.
Noah grins again. “We’ll be able to compare scars after my operation.” He holds out his hand. “Dusty, thanks for coming by. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Dusty shakes Noah’s hand and clasps it between his own for a few seconds.
Noah clears his throat. “And that thing I mentioned...”
“Done,” Dusty says. “Don’t worry about it. Luke, good to see you.” He shakes Luke’s hand as well, then leaves the room.
“What was that all about?” Luke demands.
Noah sighs and settles back on his pillows. “I just asked him to do a little favor for me.”
“What favor?”
Noah yawns, and his eyes close. “Nothing. It’s no big deal.”
Luke wants to push it, but stops himself. Noah looks exhausted, and Luke knows he needs as much rest as he can get before the surgery. Luke tries to tell himself to chill out, that whatever favor Dusty is doing for Noah really is no big deal. But he can’t shake the feeling that there’s more going on, especially when he spots more mysterious guests ducking out of Noah’s room. Finally, late afternoon before Noah’s surgery, he catches a whiff of his Grandmother Lucinda’s perfume in the corridor. That’s when he officially loses it and storms over to her office.
“What the hell is going on?” he demands.”Why did you visit Noah?”
His grandmother peers at him imperiously over the tops of her glasses. “Darling, you and Noah may not be together anymore.” Only Lucinda Walsh could lace a word with such innuendo. “But I still care for his well-being.”
“There’s more to it, Grandmother,” Luke insists. “What’s going on? What are you not telling me?”
Sensing his rising hysteria, Lucinda takes off her glasses and lays them on the coffee table, then beckons to the couch where she’s seated. “Darling, come sit down.”
Luke sits next to her and finds himself leaning into her embrace like a child. She holds him for a few minutes until he feels the calm seep into his bones. Then he sits back.
Lucinda takes his hand in both hers. “Luke, darling, Noah is merely taking care of a few loose ends.”
“Like what?”
Lucinda withdraws her hands. “Well, for example, he has granted me medical power of attorney.”
“What?” Luke stares at her. “What does that mean?”
Lucinda chooses her words carefully. “Noah has had Tom Hughes draw up an advanced care directive.”
Luke scowls. “I know about that. It’s a fancy name for a living will.”
“Yes. And should anything go wrong with the surgery--not that I’m anticipating it.” Lucinda holds up her hands reassuringly. “Your Dr. Oliver is a brilliant surgeon. I would accept nothing less for Noah. But should something go wrong, Noah has given me the responsibility,” she stresses the word, “Of seeing that his wishes are carried out.”
Luke feels cold all over. “You mean pull the plug on him.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite so bluntly,” Lucinda says, “But yes, that is the basic idea.”
“Why?” Luke feels tears well up in his eyes.
“Luke, Noah is a strong, proud, extremely independent young man. He wouldn’t want to live forever in some sort of vegetative state.”
“No,” Luke rubs his eyes. “I mean, why would he ask you? Why not me?”
“Oh, darling.” Lucinda takes his hands again. “Noah loves you. He would never want to burden you with such a dreadful choice. Whereas, he knows that I am a practical woman. Some might even say hard-hearted.”
“Grandmother.” Luke squeezes her hands. “That’s not true.”
Lucinda sniffs. “Perhaps not. Still, Noah feels that I would be detached enough to make the decision wisely and judiciously. Again, it’s just a precaution. Do you understand?” She wipes the tears from Luke’s cheeks.
“Yes.”
“Good.” She cups his chin firmly for a moment. “Now run along, dear boy, and let me work.”
“Okay.”
As Luke stands, Lucinda replaces her glasses and picks up the file again. “Oh, and Luke?”
“Yes?”
“I promised Noah I wouldn’t tell you about this. He doesn’t want you to worry about him.”
Luke scowls. “Well, I’m gonna worry about it whether he likes it or not.”
Lucinda smiles fondly. “That’s precisely what your mother told him when he asked her to--”
“Asked her to what?”
Lucinda looks guilty. “Oh, dear. I wasn’t supposed to mention that either.”
***
“Oh, honey,” Lily says. “I’m not supposed to tell you.”
“Mom. Spill.” Luke plants his feet and crosses his arms. “I’m not leaving this office until you do.”
Lily sighs and removes her glasses, then lays them down on her desk. “Noah asked me to be his executor.”
“Executor? Like for a will?” Luke hears his voice break on the last word.
“Yes. It’s just a precaution.” Lily holds up her hand reassuringly.
Luke sits in the chair across from Lily’s desk. The cold feeling is back.
Lily continues. “As you know, Noah has almost no money. A pittance, really. But he wanted me to see that his wishes were carried out.”
“And what were his wishes?” Luke asks.
“Well, most of it is going to your Foundation.”
Luke can feel tears prick his eyes again. “Oh.”
“He’s also set aside a small amount for Moses’ care, and another fund to be administered by Dusty Donovan.”
“Dusty?” Luke asks. “What the hell for?”
***
“I’m not supposed to talk to you about this,” Dusty growls. “I promised Noah.”
“Just tell me,” Luke snarls back. “It’s not anything illegal, is it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what?”
Dusty sticks his hands in his pockets, rocks back on his heels, and stares across Olde Towne.
“Flowers,” he says finally.
“Flowers?” Luke asks incredulously. “What for?”
“Noah has a standing arrangement with a florist to have flowers put on his mother’s grave every month. You didn’t know about this?”
Luke suddenly feels very small. “No.”
Dusty shrugs. “Noah asked me, if anything happened to him, to keep paying the florist. He set aside some money.”
“Why did he ask you?” Luke bites his lip to keep from asking Why not me?.
“I’m the only other person in Oakdale who knew Charlene,” Dusty explains.
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
“It’s just--"
“A precaution,” Luke says bitterly. “I know.”
Dusty squints into the distance again. “Noah’s just getting his affairs in order.”
“But why? He’s the one who wanted Reid to do the surgery. So why is he acting like he’s going to die?”
“Because that’s the kind of man Noah is,” Dusty says reasonably. “He’s just making sure the people he loves will be taken care of--"
***
"--if something happens to him,” Holden finishes. “It’s just--"
“A precaution, I know.” Frowning, Luke folds his arms on the kitchen table and rests his chin on them. “So what did you promise to do for Noah?”
“To look after you, of course.”
“Why?” Luke pouts. “Noah doesn’t care about me.”
Holden sighs. His eyes look red and tired, almost like he’s been crying. “Don’t be--"
***
“--an idiot.” Aaron drains his beer and rises. “Of course he cares about you.”
“So why did he push me away, huh?”
Aaron drops his empty bottle in the trash. “I don’t know, man. You know I suck at relationship stuff.”
“So what did Noah ask you to do?”
Aaron leans against the sink. “Just to have your back. Not that he had to ask. I am your big brother, after all.”
Luke feels anger burn in his stomach. “So Noah thinks if something happens to him, I’ll be a complete basket case.”
“Won’t you?” Aaron asks shrewdly.
Luke avoids the question. “I resent being treated like a child.”
Aaron shrugs. “Take it up with Noah. Just don’t tell him I told you. I promised--"
***
"--I wouldn’t say anything.”
Luke glares at Casey across the table at Java. “Start talking, or I swear our friendship is over.”
“Fine, fine. Geez.” Casey takes a deep breath. “If I ever see you with a drink in your hand, I’m supposed to beat the crap out of you. Happy now?”
Luke can feel his anger growing. “So Noah thinks if he dies, I’ll start drinking again.”
“Well, duh. Oh, and he wanted me to have--”
***
“-his DVD collection.” Luke can hear the tears in Maddie’s voice over the phone. “And I’m supposed to check in on you at least once a week.”
“That does it.” Luke hangs up the phone, furious. Noah can’t push him away for months, then A) act like he cares again or B) treat him like a child. Luke heads to the hospital to confront Noah. But when he enters the room, he stops, staring in shock.
Noah’s head has been shaved for surgery. Only a dark stubble remains, with a bald patch in back where the incision will be.
“Oh, my God,” Luke says.
“Luke?” Noah turns in the direction of his voice, then laughs and runs his hand over his shorn head. “Ali did it for me. Whaddya think?”
Luke clears his throat. “You look good.” And Noah does, actually. The severe haircut only enhances his strong features. But Luke’s fingers ache when he remembers Noah’s thick black hair, how much he loved to run his fingers through it. He glances around, hoping to see a stray lock, but the floor has been swept clean.
“I must look like a total jarhead,” Noah says. “My dad would be so proud, finally.” He laughs, but there’s no bitterness in it.
Luke fumbles for words. He wants to lay into Noah, but the sight of him prepped for surgery has shaken him to the core. Plus, he’s not even supposed to know about the arrangements Noah’s made with his family and friends. If Noah finds out everyone told on him, he’ll probably be upset -- and stress is the last thing he needs right now. Luke is still arguing with himself when Noah speaks.
“Luke?” he asks hesitantly. “Will you sit with me awhile? Just until I fall asleep. I’m a little nervous,” he admits.
“Of course,” Luke says.
“I don’t want you to stay here all night,” Noah says sternly. “You need your rest, too.”
“Okay, Dad,” Luke teases.
Noah smiles and turns those sightless eyes toward him. “And tomorrow--"
“I’m going to be here during your surgery,” Luke interrupts. “End of discussion.”
“It could last up to ten hours. And sitting around waiting isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
“I don’t care,” Luke says stubbornly.
Noah sighs. “Okay, but promise me you’ll take a break. You can go check on Moses for me, how about that?”
"Fine.” Luke drags a chair next to the bed and sits.
“Do you...” Noah hesitates. “Never mind.”
“What?”
“You could sit by me.” Noah pats the bed. “Only if you want to,” he adds.
Luke’s smiling so wide his face hurts, but he speaks casually. “Sure, okay.” He crawls up on bed next to Noah and leans back, resting his head on Noah’s chest. Noah feels warm and strong and solid, just like he always has.
“This is like when we used to watch movies, in our apartment,” Noah says after a moment.
Luke swallows a lump in his throat. “Yeah.”
“Wanna see if there’s anything on?”
“Sure.” Luke channel surfs until he finds an old black-and-white movie. Noah hears the opening soundtrack and cocks his head.
“That’s Touch of Evil,” he says. “Orson Welles, 1958. Perfect.”
“It looks boring,” Luke grumbles.
“Shhh, it’s a classic. The opening crane shot is one continuous three-minute take. It’s legendary.”
“You can tell that just by listening?”
“I’ve watched it so many times, I can still see it in my head.” Noah settles back in bed.
Luke gets comfortable, too, drinking in Noah’s warmth, his scent. “It better not be as long as Citizen Kane,” he warns. “And is that really Charlton Heston playing a Mexican?”
“Shhhh,” Noah says again, fingers gently carding through Luke’s hair. “Watch the movie.”
By the time Janet Leigh is being menaced by the creepy guy in the motel, Noah is fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. Luke turns down the volume on the TV. It’s dark outside, and the only light in the room comes from the flickering images on the screen. Bathed in shadows and cradled by Noah, Luke gradually drifts off to sleep.
To be continued...
Pairing: Nuke Endgame (Temporary Luke/Reid)
Rating: M for Language
Prompt: Noah gets a dog.
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. Don’t make no money.
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The next morning, Noah is his old self again. Or rather his new self, the one who isn’t Luke’s boyfriend anymore.
“Did I say anything weird last night?” he asks.
Luke blinks at him in surprise. “You don’t remember?”
Noah frowns over his coffee, which Luke brought him from Java. Noah hates hospital coffee. “I remember you finding me in Olde Town,” he admits. “After that it gets pretty fuzzy. I didn’t say anything embarrassing, did I?”
“Well,” Luke teases. “You did keep saying how hot I am,”
Noah laughs but still looks anxious, and Luke relents.
“You were a little tweaked from the pain meds, but then you went to sleep.” He doesn’t have the heart to tell Noah he hallucinated about his dad.
“Oh. Okay,” Noah says. “Good.” He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead.
“Does your head still hurt?” Luke asks.
“A little,” Noah admits.
They don’t get much chance to talk after that. Reid whisks Noah away for some tests, and Luke forces himself to go to work at the foundation. Moses hides under Luke’s desk all day and gnaws on his shoelaces while he’s on the phone. After work, he swings by the hospital and is surprised to find Noah still there, and even more surprised to find out his surgery has been scheduled for later that week. But when he asks why, Noah just shrugs.
“I guess Dr. Oliver thinks it’s time.”
“Are you scared?” Luke asks.
“A little,” Noah says softly. He rubs Moses’ ears for a minute, then gives a twisted smile. “But hey, your boyfriend’s the best there is, right?”
Luke winces, but tries to match Noah’s cheerful tone. “That’s what they say.”
Noah sobers and pets Moses a little more. “Listen,” he says. “I have a favor to ask. I know I don’t have a right to ask you for anything--"
“Name it,” Luke says.
Noah smiles, a genuine one now. “I called the vet, and they said I could board Moses there while I have the surgery.”
“Oh.” Luke is surprised. “You don’t want to leave him at home with Ali?”
“She works really long hours.” Noah looks abashed. “I know it’s stupid, but I don’t want him to get lonely. They have a kennel at the vet, so at least he’ll be with other dogs.”
“I could take him.” Luke can’t believe he’s actually offering. “Or he could stay at the farm.”
Noah shakes his head. “I can’t ask that. You’ve done so much already. But...if you could maybe drive him to the vet for me?”
“Sure,” Luke says.
“I know I’m being a total dork, but..." Noah blushes. “Could you check in on him once or twice? Just so he knows I haven’t forgotten him?” Noah’s voice catches a little, and he clears his throat. “I know he’s just a dog, but he’s all I’ve got.”
“It’s okay,” Luke says quickly. “I’d be happy to.”
“Yeah?” Noah grins, the old grin that Luke remembers, the one that lights up his whole face. “You hear that, Moses?” he asks. “You’re going to doggy camp.”
Moses whines. He whines more when Luke drops him off at the vet’s office. It’s the same vet who treated Moses after he got hit by the car, so Luke knows they’ll take good care of him. But he can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as Moses is led away by the veterinary assistant, head down and tail between his legs. He shoots Luke one last mournful look, as if he’s being taken for execution.
When Luke gets back to the hospital, Noah is sleeping again, so he tracks down Reid in the staff lounge.
“You’re doing Noah's surgery this week?”
“That’s right.” Reid bites into his sandwich.
“Why?
“Why not?”
“Because you’ve been saying for months you need to wait, so Noah could do therapy and stuff.”
Reid shrugs. “I changed my mind.”
“But the new wing isn’t even finished.”
Reid smiles thinly. “Fortunately, my genius resides in my hands, not in the architecture.”
Luke puts his hands on his hips. “Why don’t you take Noah to Dallas and do the surgery there?”
“Because I don’t want to risk moving him.”
It finally sinks in. “This is bad,” Luke says. His fingers feel icy cold. His knees give way, and he sits abruptly across from Reid.
Reid frowns. “I never said that.”
“But it is, right? That’s why you’re doing the surgery,” Luke presses. “What did the test results show? Is there something wrong? What’s causing the headaches?”
“You know I can’t talk to you about this.”
“Don’t pull that doctor-patient confidentiality crap on me!” Luke snaps. “Since when do you care about the rules?”
“I have to get back to work.” Reid shoves back his chair and walks away.
Luke stands. “Get back here and talk to me!”
“I have to see to my patients.”
“Reid!”
Reid stops in the doorway with his back to Luke.
“Please,” Luke says quietly.
Reid sighs and turns. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Does Noah know how bad it is?” Luke asks.
Reid tilts his head and gives Luke a withering stare. “Has Noah ever asked me to sugar-coat his diagnosis? To lie to him? Go easy on him?”
“No.”
“Then why would he start now?” Reid walks away, closing the door behind him.
Luke is desperate to talk to Noah, but over the next few days it seems they can never get a moment alone. The headaches are pretty much constant now, so Noah spends a lot of time sleeping. (Reid adjusts the dosage on his pain meds so, thankfully, there are no repeat visits from the Colonel.) And when he’s awake, it seems he’s either on the phone or filling out endless piles of forms. At one point, Luke catches Alison leaving Noah’s room. She’s blinking back tears and clutching a stack of papers to her chest.
“What’s going on?” Luke asks suspiciously. “What are those?” He peers at the papers, but Alison slips them inside a folder, out of sight.
“Just paperwork,” she says. “Hospital stuff.”
Noah’s on the phone again, so Luke approaches Reid, knowing he’ll tell him the truth.
“They’re Noah’s advanced care directive,” Reid says. “Commonly referred to as a living will.”
Luke can feel panic spreading through him. “Why would he need a living will?”
“There’s always the chance something could go wrong in surgery,” Reid says smoothly.
“So you made him fill one out.”
“Of course not.” Reid looks irritated. “But I wish more of my patients would. It makes my job a hell of a lot easier. Noah’s an organ donor, too,” he adds. “Even his eyes could be harvested. Technically, there’s nothing wrong with them.”
“I think I’m gonna puke.” Luke knows, intellectually, that organ donation a good thing, but he feels physically ill at the thought of Noah’s beautiful blue eyes in anyone else’s face.
“He’s being proactive,” Reid points out. “I find it refreshing.”
But when Luke tries to talk to Noah about the surgery, he shrugs off his concerns. Not to mention, there’s a steady stream of visitors, so they never get a moment alone. It seems like Luke is always catching a glimpse of random people leaving the room, and it’s a puzzling group. Sure, Casey makes sense. He and Noah are friends. But Luke swears he also sees Tom Hughes ducking around a corner. Holden and Lily and Molly drop by -- but so does his brother Aaron, although he hurries away before Luke can talk to him. And of course Grandma Emma visits, but so does Dusty Donovan.
“What’s he doing here?” Luke asks bluntly when he finds Noah and Dusty deep in conversation.
Noah grins. “We’re playing Pictionary.”
“Very funny,” Luke grouses.
“Actually,” Dusty says. “I was just wishing Noah luck. Not that he needs it. He’s got the best surgeon around. I should know.”
“Oh.” Luke remembers that Reid operated on Dusty a month or so back.
Noah grins again. “We’ll be able to compare scars after my operation.” He holds out his hand. “Dusty, thanks for coming by. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Dusty shakes Noah’s hand and clasps it between his own for a few seconds.
Noah clears his throat. “And that thing I mentioned...”
“Done,” Dusty says. “Don’t worry about it. Luke, good to see you.” He shakes Luke’s hand as well, then leaves the room.
“What was that all about?” Luke demands.
Noah sighs and settles back on his pillows. “I just asked him to do a little favor for me.”
“What favor?”
Noah yawns, and his eyes close. “Nothing. It’s no big deal.”
Luke wants to push it, but stops himself. Noah looks exhausted, and Luke knows he needs as much rest as he can get before the surgery. Luke tries to tell himself to chill out, that whatever favor Dusty is doing for Noah really is no big deal. But he can’t shake the feeling that there’s more going on, especially when he spots more mysterious guests ducking out of Noah’s room. Finally, late afternoon before Noah’s surgery, he catches a whiff of his Grandmother Lucinda’s perfume in the corridor. That’s when he officially loses it and storms over to her office.
“What the hell is going on?” he demands.”Why did you visit Noah?”
His grandmother peers at him imperiously over the tops of her glasses. “Darling, you and Noah may not be together anymore.” Only Lucinda Walsh could lace a word with such innuendo. “But I still care for his well-being.”
“There’s more to it, Grandmother,” Luke insists. “What’s going on? What are you not telling me?”
Sensing his rising hysteria, Lucinda takes off her glasses and lays them on the coffee table, then beckons to the couch where she’s seated. “Darling, come sit down.”
Luke sits next to her and finds himself leaning into her embrace like a child. She holds him for a few minutes until he feels the calm seep into his bones. Then he sits back.
Lucinda takes his hand in both hers. “Luke, darling, Noah is merely taking care of a few loose ends.”
“Like what?”
Lucinda withdraws her hands. “Well, for example, he has granted me medical power of attorney.”
“What?” Luke stares at her. “What does that mean?”
Lucinda chooses her words carefully. “Noah has had Tom Hughes draw up an advanced care directive.”
Luke scowls. “I know about that. It’s a fancy name for a living will.”
“Yes. And should anything go wrong with the surgery--not that I’m anticipating it.” Lucinda holds up her hands reassuringly. “Your Dr. Oliver is a brilliant surgeon. I would accept nothing less for Noah. But should something go wrong, Noah has given me the responsibility,” she stresses the word, “Of seeing that his wishes are carried out.”
Luke feels cold all over. “You mean pull the plug on him.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite so bluntly,” Lucinda says, “But yes, that is the basic idea.”
“Why?” Luke feels tears well up in his eyes.
“Luke, Noah is a strong, proud, extremely independent young man. He wouldn’t want to live forever in some sort of vegetative state.”
“No,” Luke rubs his eyes. “I mean, why would he ask you? Why not me?”
“Oh, darling.” Lucinda takes his hands again. “Noah loves you. He would never want to burden you with such a dreadful choice. Whereas, he knows that I am a practical woman. Some might even say hard-hearted.”
“Grandmother.” Luke squeezes her hands. “That’s not true.”
Lucinda sniffs. “Perhaps not. Still, Noah feels that I would be detached enough to make the decision wisely and judiciously. Again, it’s just a precaution. Do you understand?” She wipes the tears from Luke’s cheeks.
“Yes.”
“Good.” She cups his chin firmly for a moment. “Now run along, dear boy, and let me work.”
“Okay.”
As Luke stands, Lucinda replaces her glasses and picks up the file again. “Oh, and Luke?”
“Yes?”
“I promised Noah I wouldn’t tell you about this. He doesn’t want you to worry about him.”
Luke scowls. “Well, I’m gonna worry about it whether he likes it or not.”
Lucinda smiles fondly. “That’s precisely what your mother told him when he asked her to--”
“Asked her to what?”
Lucinda looks guilty. “Oh, dear. I wasn’t supposed to mention that either.”
***
“Oh, honey,” Lily says. “I’m not supposed to tell you.”
“Mom. Spill.” Luke plants his feet and crosses his arms. “I’m not leaving this office until you do.”
Lily sighs and removes her glasses, then lays them down on her desk. “Noah asked me to be his executor.”
“Executor? Like for a will?” Luke hears his voice break on the last word.
“Yes. It’s just a precaution.” Lily holds up her hand reassuringly.
Luke sits in the chair across from Lily’s desk. The cold feeling is back.
Lily continues. “As you know, Noah has almost no money. A pittance, really. But he wanted me to see that his wishes were carried out.”
“And what were his wishes?” Luke asks.
“Well, most of it is going to your Foundation.”
Luke can feel tears prick his eyes again. “Oh.”
“He’s also set aside a small amount for Moses’ care, and another fund to be administered by Dusty Donovan.”
“Dusty?” Luke asks. “What the hell for?”
***
“I’m not supposed to talk to you about this,” Dusty growls. “I promised Noah.”
“Just tell me,” Luke snarls back. “It’s not anything illegal, is it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what?”
Dusty sticks his hands in his pockets, rocks back on his heels, and stares across Olde Towne.
“Flowers,” he says finally.
“Flowers?” Luke asks incredulously. “What for?”
“Noah has a standing arrangement with a florist to have flowers put on his mother’s grave every month. You didn’t know about this?”
Luke suddenly feels very small. “No.”
Dusty shrugs. “Noah asked me, if anything happened to him, to keep paying the florist. He set aside some money.”
“Why did he ask you?” Luke bites his lip to keep from asking Why not me?.
“I’m the only other person in Oakdale who knew Charlene,” Dusty explains.
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
“It’s just--"
“A precaution,” Luke says bitterly. “I know.”
Dusty squints into the distance again. “Noah’s just getting his affairs in order.”
“But why? He’s the one who wanted Reid to do the surgery. So why is he acting like he’s going to die?”
“Because that’s the kind of man Noah is,” Dusty says reasonably. “He’s just making sure the people he loves will be taken care of--"
***
"--if something happens to him,” Holden finishes. “It’s just--"
“A precaution, I know.” Frowning, Luke folds his arms on the kitchen table and rests his chin on them. “So what did you promise to do for Noah?”
“To look after you, of course.”
“Why?” Luke pouts. “Noah doesn’t care about me.”
Holden sighs. His eyes look red and tired, almost like he’s been crying. “Don’t be--"
***
“--an idiot.” Aaron drains his beer and rises. “Of course he cares about you.”
“So why did he push me away, huh?”
Aaron drops his empty bottle in the trash. “I don’t know, man. You know I suck at relationship stuff.”
“So what did Noah ask you to do?”
Aaron leans against the sink. “Just to have your back. Not that he had to ask. I am your big brother, after all.”
Luke feels anger burn in his stomach. “So Noah thinks if something happens to him, I’ll be a complete basket case.”
“Won’t you?” Aaron asks shrewdly.
Luke avoids the question. “I resent being treated like a child.”
Aaron shrugs. “Take it up with Noah. Just don’t tell him I told you. I promised--"
***
"--I wouldn’t say anything.”
Luke glares at Casey across the table at Java. “Start talking, or I swear our friendship is over.”
“Fine, fine. Geez.” Casey takes a deep breath. “If I ever see you with a drink in your hand, I’m supposed to beat the crap out of you. Happy now?”
Luke can feel his anger growing. “So Noah thinks if he dies, I’ll start drinking again.”
“Well, duh. Oh, and he wanted me to have--”
***
“-his DVD collection.” Luke can hear the tears in Maddie’s voice over the phone. “And I’m supposed to check in on you at least once a week.”
“That does it.” Luke hangs up the phone, furious. Noah can’t push him away for months, then A) act like he cares again or B) treat him like a child. Luke heads to the hospital to confront Noah. But when he enters the room, he stops, staring in shock.
Noah’s head has been shaved for surgery. Only a dark stubble remains, with a bald patch in back where the incision will be.
“Oh, my God,” Luke says.
“Luke?” Noah turns in the direction of his voice, then laughs and runs his hand over his shorn head. “Ali did it for me. Whaddya think?”
Luke clears his throat. “You look good.” And Noah does, actually. The severe haircut only enhances his strong features. But Luke’s fingers ache when he remembers Noah’s thick black hair, how much he loved to run his fingers through it. He glances around, hoping to see a stray lock, but the floor has been swept clean.
“I must look like a total jarhead,” Noah says. “My dad would be so proud, finally.” He laughs, but there’s no bitterness in it.
Luke fumbles for words. He wants to lay into Noah, but the sight of him prepped for surgery has shaken him to the core. Plus, he’s not even supposed to know about the arrangements Noah’s made with his family and friends. If Noah finds out everyone told on him, he’ll probably be upset -- and stress is the last thing he needs right now. Luke is still arguing with himself when Noah speaks.
“Luke?” he asks hesitantly. “Will you sit with me awhile? Just until I fall asleep. I’m a little nervous,” he admits.
“Of course,” Luke says.
“I don’t want you to stay here all night,” Noah says sternly. “You need your rest, too.”
“Okay, Dad,” Luke teases.
Noah smiles and turns those sightless eyes toward him. “And tomorrow--"
“I’m going to be here during your surgery,” Luke interrupts. “End of discussion.”
“It could last up to ten hours. And sitting around waiting isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
“I don’t care,” Luke says stubbornly.
Noah sighs. “Okay, but promise me you’ll take a break. You can go check on Moses for me, how about that?”
"Fine.” Luke drags a chair next to the bed and sits.
“Do you...” Noah hesitates. “Never mind.”
“What?”
“You could sit by me.” Noah pats the bed. “Only if you want to,” he adds.
Luke’s smiling so wide his face hurts, but he speaks casually. “Sure, okay.” He crawls up on bed next to Noah and leans back, resting his head on Noah’s chest. Noah feels warm and strong and solid, just like he always has.
“This is like when we used to watch movies, in our apartment,” Noah says after a moment.
Luke swallows a lump in his throat. “Yeah.”
“Wanna see if there’s anything on?”
“Sure.” Luke channel surfs until he finds an old black-and-white movie. Noah hears the opening soundtrack and cocks his head.
“That’s Touch of Evil,” he says. “Orson Welles, 1958. Perfect.”
“It looks boring,” Luke grumbles.
“Shhh, it’s a classic. The opening crane shot is one continuous three-minute take. It’s legendary.”
“You can tell that just by listening?”
“I’ve watched it so many times, I can still see it in my head.” Noah settles back in bed.
Luke gets comfortable, too, drinking in Noah’s warmth, his scent. “It better not be as long as Citizen Kane,” he warns. “And is that really Charlton Heston playing a Mexican?”
“Shhhh,” Noah says again, fingers gently carding through Luke’s hair. “Watch the movie.”
By the time Janet Leigh is being menaced by the creepy guy in the motel, Noah is fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. Luke turns down the volume on the TV. It’s dark outside, and the only light in the room comes from the flickering images on the screen. Bathed in shadows and cradled by Noah, Luke gradually drifts off to sleep.
To be continued...