NEW! "Headstrong - Part Two" (Nuke/ATWT/"Angels Lie")
Title: Headstrong - Part Two
What It Is: Oneshot/Songfic/"Angels Lie" 'verse
Rating: M for language
Prompt: Still another sequel to “Angels Lie”!
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. Don’t make no money.
link
Thanks for your patience, dear readers!
Note: This story takes place on the same evening as Can’t Find My Way Home and Caught By The River.
Warning: Reid makes an appearance in this chapter, but doesn’t get punched in the face.
If you'd like to refresh your memory, Part One is here:
http://willwork4dean.livejournal.com/30637.html#cutid1
All the other chapters of Angels Lie can be found in the master list at my LJ.
***
***
When last we left our heroes...
Casey stops pacing.
He knows what he can do to help Noah.
And he's totally pissed at himself that he didn’t think of it sooner.
Okay, maybe he can’t ride in guns blazing to save Noah, but he can at least do this for his friend.
Casey grabs his phone and keys and opens the door. He hesitates for a moment, squinting against the howling wind and rain, then plunges headfirst into the storm.
Casey Hughes to the rescue.
And now...Headstrong - Part Two
***
Casey nudges the bundle of bedclothes with his foot. “Get up.”
The bedclothes stir, but there’s no answer.
Caesy nudges again. “Luke, get up.”
“Go away, Casey.” Luke’s voice is muffled under the comforter.
“Not gonna happen. Get up. I’m taking you out.”
“Go. Away.”
Casey takes a deep breath, prays that Luke isn’t naked under there, and strips off the blankets.
“Hey!” Luke’s not naked, thank God, but he looks like hell. His sweatpants are rumpled, his bare chest looks hollow, like he’s lost weight, and his hair is tousled so big it deserves its own zip code. He glares at Casey. “Who let you in here, anyway?”
“The security guard. He’s retired Oakdale PD, known me since I was a kid. Now come on. We’re going out.”
“The hell we are.” Luke pulls the covers over his head and disappears again.
“Dude, this is ridiculous. You’ve been in here for days now.” Casey hesitates, then pulls out the big guns. “You’re not helping Noah by making yourself sick.”
He holds his breath, waiting for the explosion, but Luke is silent. After a moment, he asks, “Is there...have you heard anything?” His voice is still muffled, but Casey can hear the quiet desperation in his tone.
Casey hesitates. He wants to tell Luke about the lead his mom has. That they may have identified the Colonel’s henchman and may have found his hideout. (Who besides Colonel Crackers, Casey wonders bitterly, would have an actual henchman and hideout?)
But what if the lead turns out to be nothing? Casey doesn’t want to get Luke’s hopes up. Once again, he’s furious with his mother for not trusting him enough to tell him the truth.
Casey’s silence makes Luke suspicious, and his head appears above the bedclothes. “What is it? Have you heard something?”
“No,” Casey says quickly. “But I’m sure we will soon.” He hopes that much is true.
“Yeah, right.” Luke’s tone is dismissive, but his lower lip trembles. He’s pale and has dark circles under his eyes, like he’s been crying for days.
“Dude, you’re killing me here,” Casey says, trying to keep the emotion out of his own voice. “Just let me take you out for a cup of coffee. It’ll do you some good.”
Luke hesitates, blinking at the wet and howling darkness outside his window. “It’s raining,” he says flatly, and dives below the covers again.
Casey grabs the bedclothes -- sheets, comforter, everything -- and hauls it off onto the floor.
“Dammit, Casey!” Luke yells, sitting up. “Knock it off!”
“Take a shower. Get dressed. We’re going out.”
“Fuck you!”
“Shower. Now.” Casey points to the bathroom. “Or I’ll drag you in there myself.”
All the fight goes out of Luke, in one of his sudden, mercurial mood changes. He slumps at the end of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring down at his slender feet. “Do you think Noah’s dead?” he whispers.
“Hell, no,” Casey growls, with a certainty he doesn’t feel. “Now get your ass in the shower. You reek.”
Luke rubs his eyes, weakening. “My mom will freak if I go out.”
“So don’t tell her. She’s busy with the kids, anyway. She doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“What about the guard?”
“I’ll distract him with my charm,” Casey says. “You go out the back. We’ll meet at my car. Okay?”
Luke scratches his bed-head absently. “Yeah, okay.”
“Good.” Casey cautiously opens the door to Luke’s bedroom and peers out into the hallway. The house is quiet, except for the sound of the TV in the family room, where Ethan and Natalie are watching Cars. Casey’s pretty sure Lily and Faith are still arguing in the kitchen.
“The coast is clear,” Casey says. “You’ve got five minutes, Snyder. Move your ass.”
***
Al’s was a mistake. Neither one of them can eat a bite, but it’s the only place in town that’s open this late -- besides the bars, of course, and there’s no way Casey’s letting Luke fall off the wagon. Not on his watch. Noah would never forgive him.
The other reason Casey chose Al’s was because he figured they’d run into fewer people who know Noah than they would at Java, so they could avoid any awkward questions that might upset Luke. But he forgot Oakdale’s a small town where everybody knows everyone else’s business -- and despite the fact that Noah’s disappearance has been kept out of the press, the gossip mill still works overtime.
So Henry and Vienna come over immediately to ask if they’ve heard any news. Henry says Maddie keeps badgering him with phone calls and texts. Casey can relate, because he’s fielded a bunch of them, too -- and had to talk Maddie out of leaving school and hopping on the next plane to look for Noah herself.
Now Luke’s hunched over his milkshake looking absolutely miserable, and Casey can’t even nibble at his burger and fries without feeling sick. Neither one has said a word for ten minutes.
They must reach the same conclusion at the same time, because they both speak at once.
“Dude, I’m sorry--"
“Casey, I’m sorry--"
They stop, and Luke nods with a hint of his former mischief. “Please. You go first.”
Casey takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry about what I said the other day, at the river. I was just...” Casey toys with his silverware, searching for words. “I was just upset and looking for someone to blame. None of this is your fault.”
“Are you sure about that?” Luke asks, his voice brittle. “I know it’s what everyone’s thinking.”
“No, they’re not.” Casey says. “Nobody blames you.” He wishes he felt as certain as he sounds. “And I’m sorry for what I said about Dr. Oliver. I’m sure he totally loves you.”
Luke scowls, stabbing at his milkshake with the straw. “He won’t return my calls.”
“Well, you did kind of punch him in the face.”
“And I left him a million messages telling him I was sorry.”
Casey shrugs. “Maybe he just needs to be mad for awhile before he can talk about it.”
“Oh, now you're a relationship expert?” Luke sneers.
Casey shrugs again, not taking the bait. “I’m a guy,” he says simply. “I know how we operate. Sometimes we just have to be stupid for awhile before we get over stuff.”
“This is about Noah, isn’t it?” Luke turns his scowl on Casey. “You’re saying I gave up on Noah too soon.”
Casey gives up on his burger and shoves his plate away. “Remember when I was in jail and I pushed Maddie away? I thought I was doing it to protect her from having to be with someone as fucked up as I was. Truth is, I was just scared.”
“I get that Noah pushed me away because he was scared.”
“Of course he was scared. Dude was blind.”
“I said I get it,” Luke says testily. “I’m not stupid.” He stabs his milkshake some more. “But why wouldn’t he let me help him? That’s all I wanted. That’s what couples do, we take care of each other.”
Casey sighs. “You know what really pisses Ali off? When I try to fix things for her. Like when she’s having a problem at work, she doesn’t want my advice. She just wants me to listen to her bitch about stuff and then take her side. Trust me, we fight a whole lot less since my dumb ass figured that out.”
Luke's expression gets, if possible, even more stubborn and mulish. He's about to argue when the bells over the door jangle as a customer enters. Luke glances up automatically and freezes. His eyes widen.
Casey feels a surge of hope (Noah) that’s dashed when he turns around.
It’s Reid Oliver.
Reid doesn’t see Luke, just approaches the counter. Vienna hands him a bag of takeout, which he accepts with his usual sour expression.
“Go talk to him.”
Luke stares at Casey. “Are you serious?”
“Give it a shot. It can’t hurt, can it? Or maybe it can, but at least you’ll know you tried.” Casey can’t believe he’s giving Luke relationship advice about Reid Oliver. Casey hates that dude.
Reid accepts his change from Vienna and turns toward the door. He still hasn’t noticed Luke. Despite the lateness of hour, Al’s is crowded with diners seeking refuge from the storm.
“Go on, before he leaves,” Casey hisses.
Luke gives Casey one last dubious look, but obeys. He catches up with Reid at the door. Casey tries not to stare, but he can’t help noticing that, after the first moment of recognition, Reid’s face goes blank, like he’s completely shut down. His body is rigid, his expression one of disinterested contempt.
“Fucking Doctor Roboto,” Casey mutters. Luke continues to speak, reaching out for Reid’s arm, but the other man twitches away. Casey gets a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and not just from his greasy dinner.
When Reid finally replies, it’s during a sudden, unfortunate silence, an inexplicable pause in the constant din of the diner. Consequently, every person in the room hears Reid loud and clear.
“I don’t know what's customary here in Oakdale, Mr. Snyder, but let me tell you what gay men do in Dallas. We go to the opera. We go to the movies. We go out to dinner. Sometimes we go home afterwards and fuck each other’s brains out. But we do not PUNCH EACH OTHER IN THE FACE!”
With that, Reid jerks the door open, the bells jangling harshly overhead, and strides out into the storm.
The silence lingers as customers stare, open-mouthed. Luke stands frozen in place, head drooping in embarrassment, face burning in shame.
Before he knows what he’s doing, Casey shoves back his chair and runs after Reid.
***
Conclusions manifest.
Your first impression's got to be your very best.
I see you're full of shit, and that's alright, that's how you play.
I guess you get through every night.
Well, now that's over.
I see your fantasy.
You want to make it a reality paved in gold.
See inside, inside of our heads, yeah.
Well, now that's over.
I see your motives inside, your decision to hide.
Back off, I'll take you on.
Headstrong, I’ll take on anyone.
I know that you are wrong.
Headstrong, headstrong.
Back off, I'll take you on.
Headstrong, I’ll take on anyone.
I know that you are wrong
And this is not where you belong.
***
Casey catches up to Reid across the square. He’s standing in the shelter of a store awning, lighting a cigarette. If Casey didn’t know better, he’d swear his hands were trembling.
Reid looks at Casey like he always does - like he’s a particularly uninteresting speck of dirt. Casey clenches his fists, battling the urge to smack that smug expression off the man’s face.
“Dr. Oliver, I think you should cut Luke some slack.”
Reid raises his eyebrow and exhales smoke. “I fail to see how this is any of your business, Mr. Hughes.”
“Oh, don’t give me that pompous shit,” Casey says in disgust. “Luke’s my friend. That makes it my business.”
“That may be true, but since he and I are no longer together--"
“Luke’s just really upset,” Casey interrupts. “He’s scared for Noah, and when he’s scared, he can get a little crazy.”
“So I found out.” Reid touches his nose, which is still swollen and discolored from Luke’s fist.
“But what I’m saying is, he still really cares about you,” Casey ploughs ahead. “So I think you should give him another chance.” Now Casey knows he’s losing it. He reminds himself that Luke doesn’t need any more heartbreak, not now, not with everything else that’s going on. If Casey can just fix this one piece, maybe Luke can have a little bit of comfort in the midst of this whole sorry mess.
But Reid is shaking his head. “All I heard from Luke for months was how terribly Noah treated him. But he throws a tantrum and runs away, and suddenly I’m the bad guy?”
“Noah is missing, Dr. Oliver. He might even be dead.” Casey stops, fighting to get his voice under control. “And yeah, Luke cares about him. But you know what? If he didn’t care so much, then...” Casey waves his hands in the air, searching for the right words. “Then he wouldn’t be Luke, would he?”
For a moment, Reid’s cold expression slips. “Please. Like you aren’t delighted Luke and I broke up,” he sneers. “I see how you all look at me, everyone in this benighted town. I know you all hate me and wish he was back with Noah. Well, it’s not my fault they broke up. Noah did that all on his own.”
“Maybe,” Casey says through gritted teeth. “But I think he’s paid for his mistakes, don’t you?”
Reid shrugs, taking another drag on his cigarette.
“So don’t take it out on Luke, is all I’m saying. He doesn’t deserve it and he doesn’t need it, not now.”
“Are we done here?” Reid snaps. The mask is back.
“Yeah,” Casey says. “We’re done. And by the way, if you want people to treat you better, try acting like a human being once in a while.”
Casey turns and stomps back across the square, then stops, startled. Luke is standing in the pouring rain outside Al’s, his figure faintly illuminated by the glow from the diner window and the neon sign overhead. His hair hangs in wet strings over his forehead and his eyes are hollow.
“Take me to a bar,” he says.
***
Yo’s was a mistake. Granted, taking Luke to any bar is a mistake. But he threatened to go on his own if Casey didn’t take him, and there’s no way Casey’s gonna let that happen. Not on his watch. This way he can at least make sure Luke gets home safe.
Yo’s is just as crowded as Al’s was, and of course, all the patrons and waitstaff know Noah. Most of them know Casey, too, and keep coming up to ask where the hell his friend is. Even Dave, the owner, who officially hates everybody. (For the record, everybody hates him right back.)
Of course, he spends ten minutes bitching loudly about how Noah hasn’t shown up for work, hasn’t called, how you can’t find good help these days, and how the world is going to hell in a handbasket. “Best bartender I ever had, and now this bullshit,” he growls, shaking his head. “He was supposed to start inventory this week. Damn kids.”
Casey’s worried that Luke’s gonna lose it, but he doesn’t seem to hear Dave. He’s got his hands folded on the bar, his chin resting on them, in a silent stare-down with his shot of tequila. He hasn’t drunk a drop yet.
Casey knows that look. It’s the same one he gives the racing form every once in a while. He knows Luke has to fight this battle alone, so he drinks his beer, wincing every time it thunders outside.
During a lull, Dave leans over the bar, keeping his eyes on the blaring TV. His upper arms are the size of Casey’s thighs, decorated with Harley tattoos.
“Big Ted says Noah’s old man broke out of the joint,” he murmurs to Casey. “That true?”
“Yeah.”
Dave frowns, scratching his beard. “Mean sumbitch, what I hear.”
Casey takes a sip of his beer. “Yep.”
“Noah lying low for a while?”
“I hope so,” Casey says fervently.
A waitress signals Dave. He fills a pitcher, dripping with condensation, and hands it over to her.
“You boys need anything else?” he asks Casey. His eyes flick to Luke, still motionless in front of his shot glass.
“Nah, we’re good,” Casey says. “Thanks, Dave.”
Dave nods and leans closer to Casey, his eyes tiny but piercing in his big face.
“You see Noah, you tell him he’s got a job here any time he wants.”
Casey nods, his throat tight. Dave walks away, tossing his dishtowel over his shoulder. Casey’s noticed he’s been carefully wiping the bar and emptying the trash all evening. Keeping the place neat and tidy until Noah gets back.
Casey’s throat tightens further. Beside him, Luke stirs and picks up his shot glass. Casey tenses, but Luke turns the glass over, dumping the tequila on the bar. He stares at the small, spreading puddle on the scarred wood. His eyes fill with tears.
“Hey, man.” Casey puts his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”
Luke sniffs and runs his hand over his face. “And go where?”
“Anywhere. Doesn’t matter.” Casey gets an idea. “Somewhere that will make you feel better.”
Luke looks at him, eyes wide and wet. “Where’s that?”
***
As the fighter jet crashes into the side of the mountain, the familiar red words flash on the screen:
MISSON FAIL. MISSION FAIL. MISSION FAIL.
Casey sighs in disgust and turns off Kill Zone Four: Operation Panda. The TV screen goes blank.
Casey slouches back on the couch and looks at his watch. Ali should be off shift soon and heading home. He texted her to let her know he and Luke are there, but he knows she won’t mind.
Glancing out the window, Casey realizes the storm has finally eased, and the apartment is quiet. Moving carefully, he gets up, tiptoes to the door of Noah’s room, eases it open, and peers inside.
The bedside lamp is on, but Luke is sound asleep, wearing one of Noah’s flannel shirts and clutching his pillow to his chest. In the dim light, his face is still tear-streaked, but peaceful.
Casey cell phone rings across the living room. He quickly closes the door and dives for it, praying that it doesn’t wake Luke.
Thirty seconds later he bursts back through the door and switches on the overhead light.
“Luke, get up!”
Startled awake, Luke stares at him blearily. “Casey, what the hell?”
“They found him.” Casey can’t keep the tremor out of his voice. “They found Noah.”
To be continued...
What It Is: Oneshot/Songfic/"Angels Lie" 'verse
Rating: M for language
Prompt: Still another sequel to “Angels Lie”!
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. Don’t make no money.
link
Thanks for your patience, dear readers!
Note: This story takes place on the same evening as Can’t Find My Way Home and Caught By The River.
Warning: Reid makes an appearance in this chapter, but doesn’t get punched in the face.
If you'd like to refresh your memory, Part One is here:
http://willwork4dean.livejournal.com/30637.html#cutid1
All the other chapters of Angels Lie can be found in the master list at my LJ.
***
***
When last we left our heroes...
Casey stops pacing.
He knows what he can do to help Noah.
And he's totally pissed at himself that he didn’t think of it sooner.
Okay, maybe he can’t ride in guns blazing to save Noah, but he can at least do this for his friend.
Casey grabs his phone and keys and opens the door. He hesitates for a moment, squinting against the howling wind and rain, then plunges headfirst into the storm.
Casey Hughes to the rescue.
And now...Headstrong - Part Two
***
Casey nudges the bundle of bedclothes with his foot. “Get up.”
The bedclothes stir, but there’s no answer.
Caesy nudges again. “Luke, get up.”
“Go away, Casey.” Luke’s voice is muffled under the comforter.
“Not gonna happen. Get up. I’m taking you out.”
“Go. Away.”
Casey takes a deep breath, prays that Luke isn’t naked under there, and strips off the blankets.
“Hey!” Luke’s not naked, thank God, but he looks like hell. His sweatpants are rumpled, his bare chest looks hollow, like he’s lost weight, and his hair is tousled so big it deserves its own zip code. He glares at Casey. “Who let you in here, anyway?”
“The security guard. He’s retired Oakdale PD, known me since I was a kid. Now come on. We’re going out.”
“The hell we are.” Luke pulls the covers over his head and disappears again.
“Dude, this is ridiculous. You’ve been in here for days now.” Casey hesitates, then pulls out the big guns. “You’re not helping Noah by making yourself sick.”
He holds his breath, waiting for the explosion, but Luke is silent. After a moment, he asks, “Is there...have you heard anything?” His voice is still muffled, but Casey can hear the quiet desperation in his tone.
Casey hesitates. He wants to tell Luke about the lead his mom has. That they may have identified the Colonel’s henchman and may have found his hideout. (Who besides Colonel Crackers, Casey wonders bitterly, would have an actual henchman and hideout?)
But what if the lead turns out to be nothing? Casey doesn’t want to get Luke’s hopes up. Once again, he’s furious with his mother for not trusting him enough to tell him the truth.
Casey’s silence makes Luke suspicious, and his head appears above the bedclothes. “What is it? Have you heard something?”
“No,” Casey says quickly. “But I’m sure we will soon.” He hopes that much is true.
“Yeah, right.” Luke’s tone is dismissive, but his lower lip trembles. He’s pale and has dark circles under his eyes, like he’s been crying for days.
“Dude, you’re killing me here,” Casey says, trying to keep the emotion out of his own voice. “Just let me take you out for a cup of coffee. It’ll do you some good.”
Luke hesitates, blinking at the wet and howling darkness outside his window. “It’s raining,” he says flatly, and dives below the covers again.
Casey grabs the bedclothes -- sheets, comforter, everything -- and hauls it off onto the floor.
“Dammit, Casey!” Luke yells, sitting up. “Knock it off!”
“Take a shower. Get dressed. We’re going out.”
“Fuck you!”
“Shower. Now.” Casey points to the bathroom. “Or I’ll drag you in there myself.”
All the fight goes out of Luke, in one of his sudden, mercurial mood changes. He slumps at the end of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring down at his slender feet. “Do you think Noah’s dead?” he whispers.
“Hell, no,” Casey growls, with a certainty he doesn’t feel. “Now get your ass in the shower. You reek.”
Luke rubs his eyes, weakening. “My mom will freak if I go out.”
“So don’t tell her. She’s busy with the kids, anyway. She doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“What about the guard?”
“I’ll distract him with my charm,” Casey says. “You go out the back. We’ll meet at my car. Okay?”
Luke scratches his bed-head absently. “Yeah, okay.”
“Good.” Casey cautiously opens the door to Luke’s bedroom and peers out into the hallway. The house is quiet, except for the sound of the TV in the family room, where Ethan and Natalie are watching Cars. Casey’s pretty sure Lily and Faith are still arguing in the kitchen.
“The coast is clear,” Casey says. “You’ve got five minutes, Snyder. Move your ass.”
***
Al’s was a mistake. Neither one of them can eat a bite, but it’s the only place in town that’s open this late -- besides the bars, of course, and there’s no way Casey’s letting Luke fall off the wagon. Not on his watch. Noah would never forgive him.
The other reason Casey chose Al’s was because he figured they’d run into fewer people who know Noah than they would at Java, so they could avoid any awkward questions that might upset Luke. But he forgot Oakdale’s a small town where everybody knows everyone else’s business -- and despite the fact that Noah’s disappearance has been kept out of the press, the gossip mill still works overtime.
So Henry and Vienna come over immediately to ask if they’ve heard any news. Henry says Maddie keeps badgering him with phone calls and texts. Casey can relate, because he’s fielded a bunch of them, too -- and had to talk Maddie out of leaving school and hopping on the next plane to look for Noah herself.
Now Luke’s hunched over his milkshake looking absolutely miserable, and Casey can’t even nibble at his burger and fries without feeling sick. Neither one has said a word for ten minutes.
They must reach the same conclusion at the same time, because they both speak at once.
“Dude, I’m sorry--"
“Casey, I’m sorry--"
They stop, and Luke nods with a hint of his former mischief. “Please. You go first.”
Casey takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry about what I said the other day, at the river. I was just...” Casey toys with his silverware, searching for words. “I was just upset and looking for someone to blame. None of this is your fault.”
“Are you sure about that?” Luke asks, his voice brittle. “I know it’s what everyone’s thinking.”
“No, they’re not.” Casey says. “Nobody blames you.” He wishes he felt as certain as he sounds. “And I’m sorry for what I said about Dr. Oliver. I’m sure he totally loves you.”
Luke scowls, stabbing at his milkshake with the straw. “He won’t return my calls.”
“Well, you did kind of punch him in the face.”
“And I left him a million messages telling him I was sorry.”
Casey shrugs. “Maybe he just needs to be mad for awhile before he can talk about it.”
“Oh, now you're a relationship expert?” Luke sneers.
Casey shrugs again, not taking the bait. “I’m a guy,” he says simply. “I know how we operate. Sometimes we just have to be stupid for awhile before we get over stuff.”
“This is about Noah, isn’t it?” Luke turns his scowl on Casey. “You’re saying I gave up on Noah too soon.”
Casey gives up on his burger and shoves his plate away. “Remember when I was in jail and I pushed Maddie away? I thought I was doing it to protect her from having to be with someone as fucked up as I was. Truth is, I was just scared.”
“I get that Noah pushed me away because he was scared.”
“Of course he was scared. Dude was blind.”
“I said I get it,” Luke says testily. “I’m not stupid.” He stabs his milkshake some more. “But why wouldn’t he let me help him? That’s all I wanted. That’s what couples do, we take care of each other.”
Casey sighs. “You know what really pisses Ali off? When I try to fix things for her. Like when she’s having a problem at work, she doesn’t want my advice. She just wants me to listen to her bitch about stuff and then take her side. Trust me, we fight a whole lot less since my dumb ass figured that out.”
Luke's expression gets, if possible, even more stubborn and mulish. He's about to argue when the bells over the door jangle as a customer enters. Luke glances up automatically and freezes. His eyes widen.
Casey feels a surge of hope (Noah) that’s dashed when he turns around.
It’s Reid Oliver.
Reid doesn’t see Luke, just approaches the counter. Vienna hands him a bag of takeout, which he accepts with his usual sour expression.
“Go talk to him.”
Luke stares at Casey. “Are you serious?”
“Give it a shot. It can’t hurt, can it? Or maybe it can, but at least you’ll know you tried.” Casey can’t believe he’s giving Luke relationship advice about Reid Oliver. Casey hates that dude.
Reid accepts his change from Vienna and turns toward the door. He still hasn’t noticed Luke. Despite the lateness of hour, Al’s is crowded with diners seeking refuge from the storm.
“Go on, before he leaves,” Casey hisses.
Luke gives Casey one last dubious look, but obeys. He catches up with Reid at the door. Casey tries not to stare, but he can’t help noticing that, after the first moment of recognition, Reid’s face goes blank, like he’s completely shut down. His body is rigid, his expression one of disinterested contempt.
“Fucking Doctor Roboto,” Casey mutters. Luke continues to speak, reaching out for Reid’s arm, but the other man twitches away. Casey gets a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and not just from his greasy dinner.
When Reid finally replies, it’s during a sudden, unfortunate silence, an inexplicable pause in the constant din of the diner. Consequently, every person in the room hears Reid loud and clear.
“I don’t know what's customary here in Oakdale, Mr. Snyder, but let me tell you what gay men do in Dallas. We go to the opera. We go to the movies. We go out to dinner. Sometimes we go home afterwards and fuck each other’s brains out. But we do not PUNCH EACH OTHER IN THE FACE!”
With that, Reid jerks the door open, the bells jangling harshly overhead, and strides out into the storm.
The silence lingers as customers stare, open-mouthed. Luke stands frozen in place, head drooping in embarrassment, face burning in shame.
Before he knows what he’s doing, Casey shoves back his chair and runs after Reid.
***
Conclusions manifest.
Your first impression's got to be your very best.
I see you're full of shit, and that's alright, that's how you play.
I guess you get through every night.
Well, now that's over.
I see your fantasy.
You want to make it a reality paved in gold.
See inside, inside of our heads, yeah.
Well, now that's over.
I see your motives inside, your decision to hide.
Back off, I'll take you on.
Headstrong, I’ll take on anyone.
I know that you are wrong.
Headstrong, headstrong.
Back off, I'll take you on.
Headstrong, I’ll take on anyone.
I know that you are wrong
And this is not where you belong.
***
Casey catches up to Reid across the square. He’s standing in the shelter of a store awning, lighting a cigarette. If Casey didn’t know better, he’d swear his hands were trembling.
Reid looks at Casey like he always does - like he’s a particularly uninteresting speck of dirt. Casey clenches his fists, battling the urge to smack that smug expression off the man’s face.
“Dr. Oliver, I think you should cut Luke some slack.”
Reid raises his eyebrow and exhales smoke. “I fail to see how this is any of your business, Mr. Hughes.”
“Oh, don’t give me that pompous shit,” Casey says in disgust. “Luke’s my friend. That makes it my business.”
“That may be true, but since he and I are no longer together--"
“Luke’s just really upset,” Casey interrupts. “He’s scared for Noah, and when he’s scared, he can get a little crazy.”
“So I found out.” Reid touches his nose, which is still swollen and discolored from Luke’s fist.
“But what I’m saying is, he still really cares about you,” Casey ploughs ahead. “So I think you should give him another chance.” Now Casey knows he’s losing it. He reminds himself that Luke doesn’t need any more heartbreak, not now, not with everything else that’s going on. If Casey can just fix this one piece, maybe Luke can have a little bit of comfort in the midst of this whole sorry mess.
But Reid is shaking his head. “All I heard from Luke for months was how terribly Noah treated him. But he throws a tantrum and runs away, and suddenly I’m the bad guy?”
“Noah is missing, Dr. Oliver. He might even be dead.” Casey stops, fighting to get his voice under control. “And yeah, Luke cares about him. But you know what? If he didn’t care so much, then...” Casey waves his hands in the air, searching for the right words. “Then he wouldn’t be Luke, would he?”
For a moment, Reid’s cold expression slips. “Please. Like you aren’t delighted Luke and I broke up,” he sneers. “I see how you all look at me, everyone in this benighted town. I know you all hate me and wish he was back with Noah. Well, it’s not my fault they broke up. Noah did that all on his own.”
“Maybe,” Casey says through gritted teeth. “But I think he’s paid for his mistakes, don’t you?”
Reid shrugs, taking another drag on his cigarette.
“So don’t take it out on Luke, is all I’m saying. He doesn’t deserve it and he doesn’t need it, not now.”
“Are we done here?” Reid snaps. The mask is back.
“Yeah,” Casey says. “We’re done. And by the way, if you want people to treat you better, try acting like a human being once in a while.”
Casey turns and stomps back across the square, then stops, startled. Luke is standing in the pouring rain outside Al’s, his figure faintly illuminated by the glow from the diner window and the neon sign overhead. His hair hangs in wet strings over his forehead and his eyes are hollow.
“Take me to a bar,” he says.
***
Yo’s was a mistake. Granted, taking Luke to any bar is a mistake. But he threatened to go on his own if Casey didn’t take him, and there’s no way Casey’s gonna let that happen. Not on his watch. This way he can at least make sure Luke gets home safe.
Yo’s is just as crowded as Al’s was, and of course, all the patrons and waitstaff know Noah. Most of them know Casey, too, and keep coming up to ask where the hell his friend is. Even Dave, the owner, who officially hates everybody. (For the record, everybody hates him right back.)
Of course, he spends ten minutes bitching loudly about how Noah hasn’t shown up for work, hasn’t called, how you can’t find good help these days, and how the world is going to hell in a handbasket. “Best bartender I ever had, and now this bullshit,” he growls, shaking his head. “He was supposed to start inventory this week. Damn kids.”
Casey’s worried that Luke’s gonna lose it, but he doesn’t seem to hear Dave. He’s got his hands folded on the bar, his chin resting on them, in a silent stare-down with his shot of tequila. He hasn’t drunk a drop yet.
Casey knows that look. It’s the same one he gives the racing form every once in a while. He knows Luke has to fight this battle alone, so he drinks his beer, wincing every time it thunders outside.
During a lull, Dave leans over the bar, keeping his eyes on the blaring TV. His upper arms are the size of Casey’s thighs, decorated with Harley tattoos.
“Big Ted says Noah’s old man broke out of the joint,” he murmurs to Casey. “That true?”
“Yeah.”
Dave frowns, scratching his beard. “Mean sumbitch, what I hear.”
Casey takes a sip of his beer. “Yep.”
“Noah lying low for a while?”
“I hope so,” Casey says fervently.
A waitress signals Dave. He fills a pitcher, dripping with condensation, and hands it over to her.
“You boys need anything else?” he asks Casey. His eyes flick to Luke, still motionless in front of his shot glass.
“Nah, we’re good,” Casey says. “Thanks, Dave.”
Dave nods and leans closer to Casey, his eyes tiny but piercing in his big face.
“You see Noah, you tell him he’s got a job here any time he wants.”
Casey nods, his throat tight. Dave walks away, tossing his dishtowel over his shoulder. Casey’s noticed he’s been carefully wiping the bar and emptying the trash all evening. Keeping the place neat and tidy until Noah gets back.
Casey’s throat tightens further. Beside him, Luke stirs and picks up his shot glass. Casey tenses, but Luke turns the glass over, dumping the tequila on the bar. He stares at the small, spreading puddle on the scarred wood. His eyes fill with tears.
“Hey, man.” Casey puts his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”
Luke sniffs and runs his hand over his face. “And go where?”
“Anywhere. Doesn’t matter.” Casey gets an idea. “Somewhere that will make you feel better.”
Luke looks at him, eyes wide and wet. “Where’s that?”
***
As the fighter jet crashes into the side of the mountain, the familiar red words flash on the screen:
MISSON FAIL. MISSION FAIL. MISSION FAIL.
Casey sighs in disgust and turns off Kill Zone Four: Operation Panda. The TV screen goes blank.
Casey slouches back on the couch and looks at his watch. Ali should be off shift soon and heading home. He texted her to let her know he and Luke are there, but he knows she won’t mind.
Glancing out the window, Casey realizes the storm has finally eased, and the apartment is quiet. Moving carefully, he gets up, tiptoes to the door of Noah’s room, eases it open, and peers inside.
The bedside lamp is on, but Luke is sound asleep, wearing one of Noah’s flannel shirts and clutching his pillow to his chest. In the dim light, his face is still tear-streaked, but peaceful.
Casey cell phone rings across the living room. He quickly closes the door and dives for it, praying that it doesn’t wake Luke.
Thirty seconds later he bursts back through the door and switches on the overhead light.
“Luke, get up!”
Startled awake, Luke stares at him blearily. “Casey, what the hell?”
“They found him.” Casey can’t keep the tremor out of his voice. “They found Noah.”
To be continued...