FIC - There's A Calm Surrender (1/5) -- Nuke BigBang 2012
Title: There's a Calm Surrender
Author: carolinablu85
Artist: frances_veritas ( HERE OMG)
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Warnings: Characters deaths, Deviation from canon (story starts with canon from summer 2009), Angst, Multiple Flashbacks
Summary: When his dad is killed and he thinks it’s his fault, Luke runs away from his home and his family- and Noah. Years later, he reappears in a very changed Oakdale to right the wrongs he left behind.
PROLOGUE | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | EPILOGUE
Three years later...
He still sucked at making lattes. The irony that it was his favorite drink was not lost on him. It was a nice metaphor- he could take care of anything but himself.
He silently growled and signaled for the new girl to takeover. She was a complete ditz at almost everything, but a natural at lattes and espressos. He stepped up to the counter instead, plastering on a smile. “What can we get you?” Praying for his shift to end.
It did with a bang. Almost literally. “Yo!” Peter burst into the coffeehouse, nearly knocking the door off its hinges with his customary (lack of) grace. “You ready to go?”
He nodded gratefully, tossing his apron aside, waving goodbye to New Girl. “What’s for dinner tonight?” he asked, following Peter out the door.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” Peter answered. “It’s free, ain’t it?”
He sighed. “I’m just sick of burgers, Pete.”
His roommate, of course, just laughed. “You’re too picky, Luke.”
Luke shrugged, pushing strands of hair out of his eyes. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. He knew he shouldn’t complain- he was basically living with Peter and Tim for free. Tim worked at a restaurant and brought home any and all leftovers for them to eat. Not great, but satisfying enough. He was getting by.
Most days he could even convince himself that he was doing well. That this life was fine. That the Luke he had been was gone, that that life was over, and that he shouldn’t think about it anymore.
So he didn’t. After three years of laying about with Tim and Peter, scrounging what they could, working for minimum wage at the coffeeshop in town (that irony wouldn’t be lost on him either, if only he’d let himself acknowledge it), Luke had decided this was his life. It was fine. There weren’t any worries or reasons to care about... anything, really. It was better.
But man he was so sick of those burgers.
Peter glanced over at him as they walked back to the apartment. “So.” He tapped his fingers together, a sure sign that he was about to breach an uncomfortable subject. “Tomorrow.”
Luke clenched his teeth a little. “Yep.”
“Tomorrow you’re gonna do that thing you do, where you take the car and drive to that mysterious location you go to once a year, then come back at night and not talk, and then the next day pretend nothing happened. Right?”
Luke kept on walking. “That’s the plan.”
“Just checking.” Peter followed.
Neither he nor Tim ever pushed Luke to talk about where he came from, why they’d found him on the side of the road three years ago with nothing but the clothes on his back. They never pushed, which he appreciated. Especially since, aside from one day a year, he didn’t let himself push it either.
“Dinner,” Tim announced just as they walked in, as though he’d been waiting for them for just this moment, “is served.”
And it was burgers again. Luke followed Peter to the table, eying them suspiciously. “They look slimy.”
“But satisfying,” Tim argued, mouth already full. “What, would you rather pay for food?”
It was a good point, unfortunately. Luke sat, forcing himself to dig in. Don’t think about it, don’t worry about it, he repeated to himself. It makes everything easier. If Tim and Peter had taught him anything, it was that.
They taught him how to get by on as minimal effort as possible, how to ignore everything but the present. They were outsiders, nobodies, and they’d pretty much saved Luke’s life three years ago.
---
Luke is near collapse. He’s never been this tired, this drained and empty before. Everything hurts, his eyes barely staying open, and the haze surrounding him could be from pain or shock, he just isn’t sure. But he has to keep moving. He has to get away from... he has to get away. He doesn’t even really remember what, but he knows something happened because of him, and he has to get away.
His feet suddenly stop agreeing, and Luke sinks to the ground, knees crashing even more painfully against gravel and grass. Everything hurts. He’s too tired to...
He must’ve closed his eyes, because all of a sudden it’s darker out and there’s a voice- two voices- in front of him.
“Check for a pulse or something, dumbass. He’s gonna get eaten by buzzards if we just go.”
There’s movement, and Luke flinches, holds up an arm as best he can to ward off whatever the hell is going on.
“Oh shit it’s alive. It’s alive,” one of the voices dances farther away.
“It’s not an ‘it’, it’s a ‘he’,” the first voice snaps. “It’s, Jesus, he’s just a kid.” A figure kneels down in front of him, where Luke realizes he’s sitting slumped against a tree on the side of the road. “Hey, you okay? Do you need me to call... well, we don’t have cell phones or anything, but you need an ambulance?”
“There’s blood on him,” the second voice points out.
“No shit, Sherlock, that’s why I asked,” First Voice turns to Luke again. “You with us, buddy?”
“Yeah,” Luke coughs, clears his throat (but not his head). “Yeah. I’m fine. ‘S okay.”
“Uh-huh,” Second Voice says skeptically. “Yeah. It totally looks fine and okay.”
“Luke,” he snaps without thinking. “Not ‘it’.”
Both voices pause, then laugh. Luke blinks until they come into focus. Two guys, a few years older than him. Dressed shabbily, a little unkempt, he can’t tell if they’re hippies or homeless or both, and doesn’t really care. He doesn’t even have a wallet for them to steal, so unless they want his torn and bloody clothes, there’s nothing they can really do to him.
“I’m Peter,” First Voice says. “This is Tim. You need a lift anywhere? A ride?” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder at a car sitting idle on the side of the road next to them. Luke hadn’t noticed it until now. “This probably isn’t the best place to nap.”
Luke shakes his head as best he can, struggling to his feet. That drumming in his head to get away get away get away is back. “No, it’s fine. Thanks.”
“You sure?” he’s actually surprised when Tim speaks up. “We’re not headed anywhere in particular, just looking for a place to set up shop for a little while. You look like you could use...” he trails off. Luke probably looks like he could use a lot of things.
He stuffs his hands into his pockets to hide their shaking. “I don’t know where I’m going. So no thanks.” He starts to walk away, slowly, carefully.
“Hey kid!” he hears after a few seconds. Peter jogs and easily catches up with him. “Hey, we’re outcasts too, it’s cool. We’re totally on board with the whole ‘turning your back on the world’ thing. But dying of starvation, not so cool. Come with us, at least for a day or two. Till you get back to fighting form.”
Luke stops, stares at Peter’s open, friendly face. He’s so fucking tired. He’s weighed down by... by something. Something he can’t remember and can’t get himself to try remembering. “Just... just a day or two?”
Peter shrugs. “Sure.” He gestures for Luke to follow him back to the car. “No big deal.”
Tim is waiting, eyeing him. “So, Luke, you got a lifestory?”
“No,” he says, shutting down a little.
“Good, we don’t want to hear one,” Tim says automatically. “Me and Pete, we got a good policy between us. Past is past, not worth thinking about. We do what we have to to get by, and sharing feelings is not one of those things.” He opens the door to the backseat of the car, raising an eyebrow. “Sound good to you?”
Luke looks back and forth between them. He’s exhausted, starving, just on the verge of a breakdown and can’t remember why. Tim’s words sound like the perfect solution. The only solution, really. “Yeah,” he nods, going through the open door. “Um, thanks.”
He leans his head back against the seat, letting Tim and Peter’s inane chatter wash over him, and realizes the only thing he feels right now is relief, as whatever he’d been walking away from gets farther and farther away, smaller and smaller in the car’s rear window.
Luke closes his eyes.
---
He opened his eyes. It was early, maybe a little after seven in the morning. The apartment was quiet except for the faint noise of Pete’s snoring from his room down the hall.
Luke rolled out of bed (well, rolled out of mattress, there never had been an actual frame for it),and pulled on the first clean shirt he found in his bag. Three years, and he still wouldn’t unpack it. Thanks to his roommates he’d amassed a few belongings together, clean clothes and such, but he kept them in a duffel bag. Almost defiantly, though he wasn’t sure why anymore, and he couldn’t get himself to think too hard about it.
He half-heartedly searched the kitchen cabinets for some cereal, but they’d run out two days ago and nobody had bought more yet. It was probably his turn. He’d get some tomorrow, if he remembered. Luke poured some water from the tap instead, drinking from what he was pretty sure was a clean mug, and looked out the window over the sink. The weather was perfectly fine and drab, which was what he preferred. Forgettable and mind-numbing.
The usual.
He poured out the rest of the water and headed for the door, grabbing his jacket. Tim had left his keys on the same hook, and Luke had to smile at that, thanked him silently, and headed out.
He got onto the highway, glad that the early morning meant barely anyone else was outside. He didn’t want to share any of this- the day, the road, his headspace- with anyone.
Somehow, even with only having driven this route three times, he knew it perfectly. But there was nothing perfect about this. His dad died three years ago today.
Luke turned onto the section of highway where it had happened. He never came onto this exit, except for this. Pay his respects, for whatever little bit they were worth anymore. He pulled the car over to the side of the road near where they had gone over. The guard rail had finally been fixed last year, he noticed. Grass had grown back over the scorch marks and tire indents. Other than that, it looked exactly the same every year.
Except there was something else different this year. There was someone standing there. In his spot. The spot Luke had claimed as his, where he could sit and mourn his dad in peace (just for a day, then go back to forgetting).
No. He stomped past a fancy rental car and approached in the early-morning-barely-there light. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
The guy scrambled to his feet from the guard rail he’d been sitting against. “Sorry, I-” He stopped.
Luke got a good look at him, finally. And he stopped too.
“Luke?” the voice was a whisper, broken, disbelieving. Shocked. And familiar.
“Noah?”
***
They stared at each other for what had to be a few minutes. Not even drinking in the moment, just trying to process that the moment was real.
“Oh God, Luke?” Noah shook his head. “You-?” he stepped forward in a rush, grabbed Luke and pulled him close with a hard tug.
And for a second there was no world or worries or anything around them, it was just them. Noah. Noah’s hugs were always- had always been- perfect. Luke brought his arms up, glad they remembered where to go around Noah’s shoulders and neck when his brain couldn’t figure it out. He was shaking. They were both shaking.
Noah finally pulled back, his eyes wide and wild. “How? You, you’re supposed to be... you’re alive?”
Luke studied him now, finally comprehending who was standing in front of him. He looked over his... (your nothing. he’s not your anything)... he looked over Noah, checking for the tiny differences he knew should be there after so long.
And Noah was different, somehow. He was still as slim and tall (and beautiful) as ever, but he was more... there wasn’t much of him that looked like a boy anymore. Luke was reminded of a description from The Princess Bride, ‘a trifle thinner, a great deal wiser, an ocean sadder.’ It was what Buttercup looked like after she learned of Westley’s death.
Oh. Noah’s words finally settled in. Oh. “You... you thought I was dead?”
“Jesus, Luke,” Noah took a few steps away, rubbing a hand over his jaw and mouth for a second. It threw Luke completely; it was obviously an unconscious gesture, but not one that Luke recognized. The stubble along his face was almost perfectly groomed, too. His clothes were well-kept, nice dark jeans and a cashmere sweater. There was a faint mark- a few of them, actually, tiny and scattered- around Noah’s eyes. Scars? What? “You were in the car with Holden. It... there was no way anyone could’ve survived the explosion. They told us.”
Luke opened and shut his mouth a few times. “I got out of the car in time. Dad didn’t.”
Noah stilled at Luke’s words, and the empty tone in which he’d said them. “Oh.” He moved closer to Luke, not quite touching, but looking over every inch of him, still not believing. “You have to come back to home with me.”
And it was Luke’s turn to step back. “Home?”
“Oakdale,” Noah insisted. “They need to know you’re okay, everyone needs- God, your mom, she’s gonna freak out.”
“You still live in Oakdale?” Luke blinked, latching onto the one thing that wouldn’t make him panic right now. Delaying the inevitable, probably. His mom? Freak out? Yes. She’d hate him if she knew.
“Yeah,” Noah said quietly, and only the fact that he couldn’t quite meet Luke’s eyes betrayed the steadiness of his voice. “I work at Grimaldi Shipping.”
“You-?” Luke shook his head. “For Damian?” Noah nodded, still looking away. “But what about film school? New York, California?” Noah was supposed to be a filmmaker. Noah was supposed to be doing what made him happy. One of them was supposed to be, right?
Noah shrugged one shoulder. “Things changed.” He didn’t elaborate, and Luke couldn’t bring himself to ask why. Noah was standing in front of him again, close, and he reached out slowly, touching the side of Luke’s face. Luke held still, letting him get the reassurance he seemed to need that this was real. They all really thought that he’d been dead all this time?
He heard Noah’s breath hitch, stuck in his throat, and suddenly his own eyes were welling up. God, he was just the most beautiful thing Luke had ever seen. “Noah.”
Noah exhaled quickly, a soft wounded noise escaping, and pulled Luke close again, their foreheads touching. Luke brought his hands up, holding onto the collar of Noah’s sweater. Maybe he needed that reassurance too. His eyes barely open, he watched Noah move his mouth in closer, stop, move closer again. He smiled a little at the caution, that silent question, and closed the last of the distance between them.
They kissed slowly, gently. And Luke had never felt as right as he did when Noah kissed him. He tightened his grip on Noah’s collar but didn’t strengthen the kiss. They both needed it like this. Noah finally eased back, his hand still on Luke’s face. He smiled just a little (just enough) and flicked back a few strands of Luke’s hair. “It’s darker.”
Luke offered a smile back. He couldn’t really bring himself to say that without a farm, he spent most of his time indoors, and Kentucky mountains didn’t really offer as much space for the sun. His hair had naturally gotten a little brown.
“I work at a coffeeshop,” he murmured, blushing a little. “I live in this crappy apartment with two other guys. They’re good guys. Not really, uh, ambitious, but they’re good friends. You’ll like them, and they’ll definitely like you. And I-”
“Luke,” Noah’s eyes narrowed, confused. “You’re coming home, right? You have to.”
“No I don’t,” he said it immediately, without thinking. The panic and stubbornness set in quicker than anything else ever would. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Noah let go of him, backing up a few steps as though needing to get a better look at him. It made Luke fidget. “What do you mean? Your family, and everyone, and- and you have to come home.”
“I can’t,” he repeated, almost helplessly. “You don’t understand.”
“Okay. Then tell me,” Noah crossed his arms. “Tell me why you’d rather stay away from your family and friends- your life- and let them think you’re dead. God, Luke.”
“You don’t understand, and you couldn’t,” he insisted, defensive, determined. “This is just the way things are now. Maybe I was supposed to have that great life in Oakdale, but that’s gone now. And so am I. Things are better this way.”
“You think things are better?” Noah’s voice was rising, face gaining more color. “Do you? Is your life so much better out here without any of us? A coffeeshop and... and...” He stopped himself. “Because things in Oakdale are not better, Luke. We- people back home could really use your help.”
“No one needs me,” he argued. I let my dad die. No one needs someone like that.
But Noah didn’t know that. He flinched instead, like Luke had hit him. “Think about your mom. And grandmothers. Ethan and the girls. You think they don’t need you?”
He said nothing about himself, Luke noticed. Same old Noah. He didn’t need- or, more accurately, didn’t want to need- anyone. “I think they’re better off without me.”
“How can you say that? The Luke I knew would never leave them behind if he knew how much they missed him. And need him.” He got quieter. “Luke, Damian is... he’s pretty much taken over the whole town. But he’s not Holden, and he’s not you. Why aren’t you-” he shook his head again. “Please come home.”
“No.” He said it firmly. This was just the way it had to be.
Noah’s jaw set in that way that told Luke just how angry he was. “They still love you. Why the hell would you let them suffer like this?”
“Things changed,” he threw Noah’s words back in his face, trying to push buttons he counted on still being there. Better this, defensive anger and disappointment, than the panic he always fought to keep at bay. Better this than having them all know it was his fault Holden was dead.
“So... so, what- I’m supposed to go back to your family and tell them you’re alive but refuse to come home?” Noah’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the light from the sunrise. Luke couldn’t tell if it was from the sun or from tears. It had to be the sun. Noah didn’t cry. “What are you even doing here?”
“What are you doing here? Why are you here at all?” Luke pushed again, voice rising.
Noah looked away. “Damian sent me to Tennessee for a business meeting, and I...” he swallowed hard, his head ducking for a second with the effort, and that gesture was so familiar that Luke had to lock his knees to stay upright. “I knew what today was. I wanted to be here. I wanted to be near you.” His voice cracked. “Three years, Luke. I haven’t been able to-” he stopped, walked away, back towards the luxury rental car.
Noah would never drive a car that expensive, he told himself fiercely, following Noah against his better judgment. “You don’t have to tell them anything,” he blurted out.
Noah froze right at the car door. “What?” His back still to Luke.
“Mom. Grandmother. Damian, whoever. You don’t have to tell them. That you saw me, that I’m here.” Suddenly he became insistent. “Don’t tell them.”
Noah’s arms came up to brace against the top of the car, as though holding himself up. “How can you ask me to do that?” his voice was small.
Luke pushed away the sound and held strong. “They can’t know. I’m not a part of that life anymore, Noah. It’s been three years, they don’t need everything brought back up again. And I’m not going back. So it’s just better this way.”
Noah’s head dropped forward, shaking. “I can’t. You need to come home.”
“It’s not my home anymore,” he said firmly, much more steady than he actually felt. The universe was really really cruel, to show him Noah again when he couldn’t have him. God damn it, hadn’t he lost enough? “You should go. Forget you saw me.”
Noah finally turned around again, paler than he’d been since seeing Luke alive in front of him. “Don’t you care about... that I-”
“Noah,” Luke shook his head. The idea of Oakdale, of being anywhere near there again, was impossible. A perfect storm of mistakes and guilt and regrets Luke couldn’t face anymore. “You need to forget about me. Let go of it- of the past. Like I did.”
“Yeah?” Noah’s face was somewhere between lost and furious. He yanked the car door open and got in. “Like you did. Of course.” With the window open, Luke couldn’t really escape the look on his face, in his eyes. “I spent the last three years of my life without you,” he spoke more to the steering wheel than to Luke. “What’s a hundred more?”
And then he was driving away. And Luke thought that maybe this was actually the closest he’d ever come to dying.
***
Everything was different now.
He didn’t mean that in a grand sense. He didn’t mean that, since seeing Noah, he was looking at the world differently or his life differently. Okay, maybe he was doing that a little bit too, but at this moment he was talking about something else, something more literal, more real and specific.
He had spent three days moping and brooding after Noah drove away. Not going to work, not really eating. Just drifting between the hours of one roommate coming home and the other going out. Three days, until the dam finally broke and Luke got angry. At himself, at Noah, at God, at everything that made his life what it was now. He threw stuff, broke stuff, possible did damage to a window or maybe it was a mirror but it was definitely some shiny surface he couldn’t remember.
Two hours later there was disaster in his bedroom and two mildly concerned roommates in his doorway. Peter had taken it all in calmly, nodding to himself like this confirmed oh so much. Maybe it did. Luke didn’t have any energy left to glare or deflect questions. Luckily, they didn’t ask any.
“Clearly,” Tim scratched his chin. “You kinda got some issues to work on. And while you’re always gonna be welcome here, for real, maybe- for the sake of your sanity and our drywall- now’s a good time to work on them?”
Luke just stared blankly at them. Something fell off the wall behind him. Had he done that?
Peter clarified. “Go back and fix things, Luke. Fix whatever got you all Hulked out here. This ain’t healthy.”
And now, after a two day bus ride, Luke could definitely say that everything was different. Oakdale. Oakdale was different. The first obvious sign of this was when he got off the bus, directly across from the offices for WorldWide.
WorldWide was gone. The building was still there, but it was marked with a sign reading ‘Grimaldi Worldwide’ now. Grimaldi? Damian?
Damian is... he’s pretty much taken over the whole town. Noah’s voice echoed in his head. He hadn’t thought Noah meant this, meant it literally. It couldn’t really be the whole town, right? (And where the hell was Lucinda?)
Luke re-shouldered his backpack and turned, walking down Third Street, trying to figure out where to go first. Worldwide had been the original plan, he figured that out of everyone in Oakdale, his grandmother would be the best to get on his side first (After what just happened in Kentucky, Noah was most definitely out of the picture.)
The next smartest option was Jack. Jack could be rational, Jack was a cop, Jack was...
He rounded the corner to the police station and stopped short once more. Something was wrong, something was (for lack of a better word) different. Jack’s car wasn’t there. Which, okay, maybe he was out on a patrol or a case or whatever. And Margo’s was there, but not in her normal spot, not in front of the little metal sign that said “Police Chief.”
“Hey, excuse me,” he grabbed the sleeve of a uniformed cop walking by. “Are Detective Snyder and Lieutenant Hughes inside?” The cop didn’t answer him right away, eyeing him suspiciously. “I used to live here as a kid. Just curious,” he lied as fast as he could. And hey- it wasn’t actually a lie.
The cop glanced around, as if checking no one was eavesdropping. “Detective Hughes, yeah. She’s inside.”
“Detective?” Luke echoed. “But I thought she was the Chief, a Lieutenant?”
The cop (Luke dubbed him Sparky in his head. He looked like a Sparky) shrugged. “She used to be. Got demoted like two years ago during the big transition.”
“Transition?” Luke repeated again, trying to sound more casually curious than terrified out of his mind.
“The mayor brought in a new police chief and a few new lieutenants. They bumped down every senior office already here.” The guy shrugged again. “That’s how it goes sometimes. I don’t know any Detective Snyder.”
No Jack? What the hell? “Who’s the mayor now?” he asked, hastening to add, “Maybe I remember him.”
Sparky didn’t even notice the slip-up. “Dan Hawthorne. Know him?”
Yeah, Luke really really did. He’d been one of the executives of Grimaldi Shipping three years ago. “Oh, uh, must’ve been after my time,” he lied lamely. “Thanks.” No way was he going in there, if it was all under Damian’s touch. He wasn’t ready for that yet. Or, you know, ever.
He walked a little more warily now, trying to take in every detail around him as he headed towards Old Town. Things had changed. Noah was right. Everything seemed... grayer. A little emptier. Here and there, storefronts that had been bright and full were gone now, windows dark. Some were even boarded up.
Old Town seemed emptier too. Everything at least looked the same here, but it felt different. Heavier, like a storm cloud hanging over it all. He turned the corner after Al’s, and stopped short.
The bench. The bench was gone.
Luke stared at the empty bit of brick and sidewalk. He struggled to swallow through a suddenly dry mouth. This was his and Noah’s bench, it was supposed to be there forever. At his most romantic- at his only brush with romanticism in the last few years- he’d thought of that stupid bench as a monument. Even though things were different now, that bench would always be there as a reminder of what had been.
But no. Like everything else, it was doomed to disappear.
Luke choked on nothing, bringing a fist up to his mouth. It’s just a stupid bench, he snapped at himself. It’s wood. It’s nothing. Well, that was pretty much true. It really was nothing now.
He was still staring at the nothing when someone suddenly grabbed him from behind. Two arms like iron bands around his chest, lifting him up off the ground by a few inches. “No way no way no way no way no way no way no way-”
He took a guess. “Casey?”
The hug got tighter for a few seconds before he was set back down. “Hi.”
Luke smiled, he couldn’t help it. “Hi.” He turned around, face-to-face with him. “Um, I can explain?”
He was pulled into another bearhug. “Yeah, I bet you can, you fucker. What... you’re, like, alive.”
“Yeah, kinda.” He stepped back enough to get a good look at Casey. For the most part (and Luke wasn’t sure why he expected differently), he looked the same. His hair was cut shorter, but everything else was pure Casey Hughes. That is, until he rubbed a hand over his eyes, and Luke noticed the ring on his left hand. “You...?” He didn’t dare guess who. This was Oakdale, after all.
Casey looked down at his hand, then back up with a smile. “Me and Ali. Two years ago.” He waved a hand, inviting. “Go on, you’re allowed to act shocked that we’re still together.”
Luke just shook his head. He’d been shocked enough in the past couple days. “You guys are happy?”
A shadow passed, a millisecond long, across Casey’s face before disappearing. “Yeah, we are now. For the most part.” Before Luke could question it, he continued, “Things are just... stuff has changed since you’ve been dead, man. Lots of stuff.”
Luke looked around, eyes landing on where his bench should be. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“Does anyone else know you’re here? Alive?” Casey half-turned and started walking away from Old Town, Luke unconsciously following.
“No.” He wanted to leave it at that, but his stupid mouth betrayed him. “I saw Noah a few days ago. We both showed up at... where it happened.”
Casey winced. “Fuck. Bet that went well.”
“Not really,” he said, proud and surprised at how steady his voice sounded. “He’s... he looks...” it ended with shrug.
“Yeah,” Casey twitched a little. “He does look.” Casey glanced around, as though expecting to be followed. “Have you seen your family yet? I mean,” he blew out a long breath. “Do you have time right now? You’ve missed a lot, man. A lot.”
Luke wasn’t sure he could bring himself to see (what was left of) his family right now. “I have time. Can we get coffee? Java?”
Casey twitched again. “It closed down awhile ago. We can get some at Al’s though, come on.”
“Java’s gone?” He didn’t stop in his tracks, but it was a near thing.
Casey just grumbled under his breath. “Part of me thinks he got rid of it just so Noah couldn’t go back to working there.”
“Casey, what the hell is going on?” he scrambled to keep up with Casey’s pace now.
“Damian,” Casey answered. “He’s taken over everything, Luke. The mayor is run out of his pocket. The police. Half the businesses in town were bought up by Grimaldi. He took over Worldwide and ran your grandmother out of town. Jack is out of a job. My mom got demoted. Your aunt, Meg, she’s in some, like, mental institution. Half the hospital board is bribed by him.”
“God...” Luke almost stumbled, but Casey just grabbed his arm and pulled him along. “What-?”
“He and your mom are together,” Casey said this quietly, gently. “They live at your mom’s house. The kids live with them sometimes, but they spend a lot of time at the farm with Emma.” They turned a corner and walked past Metro. It was still there, but the name was different. Something Italian. (Or Maltese?)
“She works at the Lakeview?”
“Some,” Casey hedged. “Damian bought it from her, so technically she, uh, works for him. Noah does too. They’re both... Damian looks after them both. A lot.” Casey’s tone verged on bitter at that point.
“Does he...” Luke slowed down as they approached Al’s. It looked surprisingly, thankfully, the same. But maybe that was why he couldn’t get his feet to go any closer.
Luckily, Casey noticed. “Wait here. I’ll get some cups to go.”
***
“Okay, this should be good,” Casey dragged Luke down to the bench at the edge of the gazebo. Luke looked around as they sat, taking it in. He’d forgotten all about this park; there’d never been a need to go when they had their own pond at the farm. “So.”
“So,” Luke echoed, twisting his hands around in his lap.
“You’re not a zombie,” Casey pointed out, possibly in complete seriousness. “So I’m guessing you didn’t actually die in that car accident.”
“No,” Luke shook his head. “I got free of the car before...” he trailed off, and thankfully Casey got it.
“So you spent some time away dealing with it, and now you’re back?” he way, way oversimplified. Luke nodded gratefully, and he nodded back. They both recognized the presence of a ‘there’s way more to this story’ cloud hanging over Luke, but they both ignored it for now. “So, um, are you back for real?”
“I don’t know yet,” he answered honestly.
Casey just nodded again. He got it. Maybe. “Well, is there any other stuff you want to know? I know I gave you the crappy rundown, but want me to fill you in on the good Oakdale gossip you’ve missed?”
He’d meant it as a joke, at least Luke thought he did, but he decided to take it seriously. “Tell me about Noah.”
Casey’s cautious smile slipped away. “What?”
“Noah. What’s happened to him since- since I left.” Luke stumbled over the words. It felt kinda wrong, like spying or invading some bit of privacy, but it was Noah. Luke was allowed.
Casey’s frown didn’t really help though. “I, uh, I guess I could. I mean, I probably know more about him than most, and...” he stopped, then continued. “And I guess there’s some stuff you should know.”
He ignored that last sentence- the implication was too much to let himself think about. “You probably know more than most?”
Casey nodded. “We’re friends. Me and Alison, we got close to him. He lived with Ali for awhile after his first surgery.” Casey had been fidgeting, but he stopped and looked straight at Luke when he said those last words.
Luke just stared back. “Surgery?” First surgery? “Casey, what-?”
Casey rolled up his sleeves, and Luke wasn’t sure if it was out of habit or because he needed to prepare just that much. “I’m not gonna tell you everything, Luke. At least, even of what I know, I’m only telling as much as I feel comfortable. Don’t interrupt me, okay? It’s gonna suck. A lot. It sucked going through it, it’s gonna suck retelling it. Just let me get through. Okay?”
Luke swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth. He wanted to kick himself too. Of course. Of course Oakdale hadn’t been perfect while he’d been gone, there was always drama and chaos going on. Why had he thought Noah would stay untouched from it? “Okay,” he whispered.
Casey began quietly, slowly. “After you died, it was... I mean, not a shock that Noah wasn’t doing well. It was hard. And we kept waiting for him to break down, but he was all, I don’t know, ‘Noah’ about it. All he did was work and work. At Java and school and his film.” Casey stopped there, pointedly.
His film. And even three years later, Luke’s thoughts clouded darkly around one person. “Mason.”
“Yeah.”
Casey took a sip of his coffee, while Luke stared. A remnant of ‘old him’ was bristling and angry at Mason, at Noah for not believing him when he’d warned about something like this. “What did he do?”
“Luke, you were gone. You were dead. Noah was hurting and grieving and confused. He wasn’t taking care of himself. Ali and Maddie and I, we were trying, but we couldn’t always be there for him. I think we reminded him too much of you sometimes, or maybe he thought he shouldn’t bother us, we were going through our own shit at the time, I don’t know. And because of your mom, your family wasn’t-” he cut himself off again. “You don’t get to be mad at Noah. Got it?”
Luke sat back, Casey’s words had pushing him there. “O-okay.” He needed to hear the rest of the story. (It’s not a story. It’s Noah’s life, you dumbass.)
Casey sighed, calming down a little. “He broke it off really quick, okay? He knew it was wrong. But like a week later, after I found out, it just got scary. Mason wouldn’t let it go. He was showing up everywhere, calling him a lot, threatening his grade, everything. Noah stopped going to classes, he was pretty close to dropping out of school. It was bad.” Casey scowled. “He stopped working on his movie. If that doesn’t tell you how bad it got...”
Luke felt a little like throwing up. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t have really happened. “Is that why he’s working for Damian?”
Casey’s frown just deepened at the mention of Damian. “Damian already had his claws in at this point. I don’t know how, but he found out about Mason’s stalking. He had the jackass fired from OU, and Mason left town the next day. No one’s heard from him since.”
He swallowed hard again. They hadn’t even gotten to... “Surgery?” he managed to prompt.
“Noah went back to school, but he wasn’t, I don’t know, like he had been. He wasn’t as focused or something. He was trying to film something with fireworks, and I don’t know what happened exactly, but they went off in his face. He fell and...” Casey stopped, looked away.
“How bad?”
“He kinda died,” Casey said softly. “Sort of. They had to restart his heart. And emergency surgery, bleeding in his brain, and...” Words just tumbled out of him without stopping, piling on top of Luke. “When he woke up he was blind.”
“He was... no.” Luke couldn’t have that be real, he couldn’t let it be. No. That wasn’t supposed to happen to Noah. Not to anyone, but especially not him.
But Casey and the universe didn’t listen to him. “For six months.The only reason he can see now is because Damian bribed this hotshot surgeon guy to come and operate on him and fix him. So to speak.”
So to speak. “He seems okay now,” Luke murmured.
Casey shook his head, throwing him a skeptical look. "We all do, don’t we? But we’re not. Look around, Luke, look at this town.” Casey fiddled with the lid of his coffee cup. "He tried- tries- to act like old Noah but sometimes I don't know." Another small smile. "I don’t know. He gave Ali away at our wedding."
Luke's heart broke a little at the seemingly random comment, picturing it. He bet it had been kinda beautiful. He could picture Noah smiling down at Ali, that same smile he had always given Luke's sisters when they hugged him.
His sisters. God, he didn’t even know anything about them now. Faith was in high school. Natalie in junior high. Ethan was probably in kindergarten, or first grade?
His thoughts trailed off again at the look on Casey’s face. It was that ‘please don’t punch me’ element combined with ‘what I’m about to tell you isn’t my fault’ expression that he used to give Margo all the time. “What?” he prompted. Of course there was more. Why wouldn’t there be more?
He took another sip of his coffee, even though Luke could tell the cup was empty. Casey just needed something to do. “Noah’s kinda... with someone right now. But not serious,” he hastened to add. “They’re, like, casual or something. No one really knows.”
Luke ignored any and all feelings. Any of them, all of them. Nope. “Noah doesn’t do casual,” was what came out of his mouth in response. He could hold onto that, that was just a universal truth.
Casey just shrugged, finally giving up on the empty coffee cup, using the pretext of throwing it away to avoid looking at Luke. “There’s a lot Noah does now that he didn’t before you died.”
***
The girls were already arguing; he could hear it as he entered the porch. He rolled his shoulders to loosen them, then set them determinedly. He didn’t care if it was about Damian or breakfast or boybands, it’d be over before they left for school, he’d make sure of that. He entered the kitchen cautiously.
“But you have to!” Natalie protested, arms crossed, eyes flashing with the tears that came more from being angry than anything else.
Faith kept up an exterior of boredom, but there was some anger and desperation in her face too. “I don’t have to do anything. No one’s making me go if he’s going to be there.”
And then Noah knew what the fuss was about. “Wrong,” he let the door shut behind him, eyes ticking to helpless, frustrated Emma by the stove before looking at Faith again. “I’m making you.”
He didn’t stop moving, kept up his calm, confident demeanor as he walked past both girls to the table where Ethan was bouncing happily in his seat, beckoning Noah over. Noah grinned at him as he sat down, immediately reaching for the sneakers he knew would be untied on Ethan’s feet.
“Noah,” Faith whined, coming closer. Natalie was on her heels, wisely keeping quiet.
“Faith,” Noah countered, tying one of Ethan’s shoes quickly. “It’s Nat’s first dance recital of the year. You should be there.” He finished the right sneaker, and Ethan quickly propped his left sneaker on Noah’s lap, knowing the drill. It wasn’t like Ethan couldn’t tie them on his own now, but this was just their thing.
“If Damian’s going to be there, then I’m not,” she finally got out her real reason for refusing.
Noah reached out and tapped Natalie’s elbow, guiding her back to the table and her half-eaten breakfast. “Yeah, he’s going to be there. But-” he fixed her with a look when she tried to interrupt. “So will I. And your Grandma, and Ethan, and your cousins.” He raised one eyebrow pointedly. “And your sister. So maybe the good’s going to outweigh the bad and you can put up with it.”
“Mom’s not even going,” Faith tried one last argument, if a little weakly.
Noah didn’t flinch at that, though he wanted to. He knew why Lily wasn’t going, and hated himself a little for it. “All the more reason for Nat to have more people cheering for her.” He didn’t say it, but Faith obviously heard the unspoken, So you want to be like your mom, then?
Faith was quiet for another minute, weighing her options and trying not to notice the sad yet hopeful expression on her sister’s face. “Fine,” she finally sighed. “But you have to make breakfast the next day.”
“Pancakes!” Ethan cheered. “You have to make berry-chocolate this time.”
Noah fought to keep his face impassive, turning to Ethan. “I didn’t know you were part of these negotiations.” Faith smiled out of the corner of his eye, so he let himself relax secretly. He sensed Emma do the same, coming close to clear away breakfast dishes.
“Pancakes,” Ethan pointed out in response.
Noah gave a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Pancakes,” he agreed. “It’s a deal.”
Emma put a travel mug of coffee in front of him, kissed the top of his head. “I approve. Now all of you get going, you girls are going to miss your bus!” She handed out paper bags of lunch to the girls, giving Ethan’s to Noah.
A few more kisses from her, Noah reminding Natalie that her homework was probably still sitting in the den on the coffee table (it was), and the girls rushed out, chatting happily, fight forgotten. Ethan was pulling on his own backpack (G.I Joe toys, two storybooks, and one spelling list inside), bouncing on his feet by the door while Noah helped Emma with the last of the dishes.
“You missed dinner last night,” Emma said quietly, almost sounding casual.
“Sorry,” he said immediately, unsure of what else he could say. Truth be told, he’d been trying to avoid them all week, ever since getting back from Kentucky. It was hard to be around them, now knowing what he knew. Luke. He wasn’t sure what to tell them, and he didn’t know how. “Been catching up on work.”
“Of course,” she just nodded. “You do know you tend to cut your sentences short when you’re trying to avoid talking about something, right?”
He almost jerked and sent soap flying across the kitchen, but he’d actually gotten used to Emma’s observations by this point. “Yeah. Um, sorry.” It was all he could come up. Lame, lame, lame.
“You should come tonight instead. I’m already cooking for ten people, one more won’t hurt.”
Emma was sneaky like that, but Noah was probably more stubborn. Or practical, at least. “Is Lily going to be here?”
Her hesitation told him everything. And told him that he wouldn’t be coming to dinner that night.
---
Noah hates funerals.
That isn’t exactly a groundbreaking statement, it’s not like anyone is ever really walking into a funeral upbeat and happy, but still. It feels like Noah has been to a few funerals every year of his life before he finally got away from his dad. Military funerals were all rigid and formal and planned out to the very last second. Noah always had his role to play. He hated it.
But this?
He hates this so much it hurts. Or he hates this so much because it hurts. One of the two.
If it weren’t for Aaron walking next to him up to the church, he’s pretty sure he’d be making a break for it. But Luke would want him to be here, he reminds himself. Luke wouldn’t want him spending this day alone, no matter how much Noah wants to be.
The family is gathering off to the side just outside the steps- Damian with his arm around Lily (Noah tries not to frown at that, Damian really has been supportive of everyone since the accident, even him), Lucinda with the girls and Ethan, Emma and Jack, Brad and Meg, a few Snyder siblings Noah has never met.
They’re starting to walk in when Noah and Aaron approach, Ethan waving to Noah as Lucinda takes them inside. Lily’s eyes- as tired and tear streaked as they’ve been all week- flash when she sees Noah. “No.”
His footsteps falter, thrown by what sounds like anger in her tone. Aaron stops next to him, also confused. “What?” Aaron pats down his suit, as though trying to find something wrong with it.
Lily shakes her head, eyes never leaving Noah. “He’s not sitting with us.”
His chest really hurts now, tight and heavy. “M-Mrs. Snyder, I-” He always does this. So many adults in this town insist on being called by their first names, but whenever he’s nervous or unsettled he ends up reverting back to old habits.
“Lily,” Damian’s voice is almost too soothing. “He deserves to be here too.”
He probably doesn’t meant to, but it makes Noah feel worse. He deserves to be at the funeral he’s partially responsible for, right? He keeps quiet, words failing, afraid to say the wrong thing when he’s already done so much wrong. He’s done everything wrong.
Lily obviously agrees. She weakly pushes Damian away, still almost defiantly- or maybe desperately- confronting Noah. “Why was Luke on that trip?” She isn’t asking it like she wants an answer. She’s asking it like she already knows the answer. Which is convenient, because he still can’t get himself to speak. “Why was he there? He wasn’t supposed to be, but you- What did you say to make him go? It’s-”
It’s your fault.
“Hey,” Aaron steps between them, almost as angry. “That’s not fair. Noah’s a part of the family. He’s sitting with-”
“Aaron,” he finally gets himself to talk, forcing the words out. He shakes his head. “It’s okay.” The last thing he wants to do is cause a scene today. Emma doesn’t need that. The girls and Ethan don’t need that. And, honestly, neither do he and Lily. “It’s fine.”
Aaron gives him a look that says it really isn’t fine, but maybe he doesn’t want to cause a scene either. Damian gives him an apologetic look as he leads Lily into the church. Aaron glares half-heartedly at both of them, then turns and waves to someone behind Noah. “Are you sure?”
Noah shrugs. “I’ll see you after.” After Holden and Luke are laid to rest. Forever. Gone.
Aaron still looks doubtful, but his gaze focuses once more on someone behind Noah. “Hey,” he calls out quietly.
Noah turns just as Casey, Alison, and Maddie walk up. Judging by the looks on their faces, they’ve seen- if not heard- what just happened. “Noah,” Ali says quietly, her hand going to his arm. “Come sit with us, okay?” Maddie threads her arm through his other one.
And while it seems a little fucked up and wrong to sit with his ex-girlfriend at his boyfriend’s funeral, it isn’t like he has much of choice.
Lily’s right in some ways (a lot of ways), after all. If he hadn’t convinced Luke to go on the trip, would any of this have happened?
---
Emma just looked even sadder. “Yes, she is.” She added quickly, “But you should come anyway. This thing between you two is silly, and I don’t like that you spend so much time alone in that apartment.”
She always said ‘that’ apartment, not ‘your’ apartment. Probably because she felt the same way about the place as he did. Still, he shrugged, offered her his most charming smile- his ‘sales meeting’ smile. “Well, that’s why I come here for your breakfasts every morning.”
She smiled and sighed at the same time. “Noah,” she shook her head, wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she followed him over to the door. “Honey, I really think...” she trailed off with another smile-sigh as Noah swept Ethan up and around to hook onto his shoulders, backpack and lunch bag and all.
“It’s school time, Grandma,” Ethan announced, trying to sternly wag his finger at Emma. “And Noah can’t be late for work.” And god if Noah didn’t love this little kid a lot.
He squeezed his arms around Ethan for a second in a thank you the boy would never understand, then leaned them both forward and down towards Emma. “What else do you say to Grandma?” he prompted.
Ethan kissed her cheek. “Have a good day, I love you!”
She kissed him back, completing the ritual. “You too, darling.” They had a lot of rituals by this point. She looked back at Noah, eyes going sad again. Maybe almost disappointed. “Dinner?”
Noah swallowed back the guilt and the tiny bitterness at, well, everyone, and smiled. He kissed her other cheek. “Have a good day, I love you.” He repeated Ethan’s words, his tone serious.
She patted his arm, face softening. “You too, honey.” She handed him his coffee. “I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.”
He nodded, smiled again- pretty sure it was genuine- and walked with Ethan out to his car. Another day had begun.
( CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 2)
Author: carolinablu85
Artist: frances_veritas ( HERE OMG)
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Warnings: Characters deaths, Deviation from canon (story starts with canon from summer 2009), Angst, Multiple Flashbacks
Summary: When his dad is killed and he thinks it’s his fault, Luke runs away from his home and his family- and Noah. Years later, he reappears in a very changed Oakdale to right the wrongs he left behind.
PROLOGUE | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | EPILOGUE
Three years later...
He still sucked at making lattes. The irony that it was his favorite drink was not lost on him. It was a nice metaphor- he could take care of anything but himself.
He silently growled and signaled for the new girl to takeover. She was a complete ditz at almost everything, but a natural at lattes and espressos. He stepped up to the counter instead, plastering on a smile. “What can we get you?” Praying for his shift to end.
It did with a bang. Almost literally. “Yo!” Peter burst into the coffeehouse, nearly knocking the door off its hinges with his customary (lack of) grace. “You ready to go?”
He nodded gratefully, tossing his apron aside, waving goodbye to New Girl. “What’s for dinner tonight?” he asked, following Peter out the door.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” Peter answered. “It’s free, ain’t it?”
He sighed. “I’m just sick of burgers, Pete.”
His roommate, of course, just laughed. “You’re too picky, Luke.”
Luke shrugged, pushing strands of hair out of his eyes. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. He knew he shouldn’t complain- he was basically living with Peter and Tim for free. Tim worked at a restaurant and brought home any and all leftovers for them to eat. Not great, but satisfying enough. He was getting by.
Most days he could even convince himself that he was doing well. That this life was fine. That the Luke he had been was gone, that that life was over, and that he shouldn’t think about it anymore.
So he didn’t. After three years of laying about with Tim and Peter, scrounging what they could, working for minimum wage at the coffeeshop in town (that irony wouldn’t be lost on him either, if only he’d let himself acknowledge it), Luke had decided this was his life. It was fine. There weren’t any worries or reasons to care about... anything, really. It was better.
But man he was so sick of those burgers.
Peter glanced over at him as they walked back to the apartment. “So.” He tapped his fingers together, a sure sign that he was about to breach an uncomfortable subject. “Tomorrow.”
Luke clenched his teeth a little. “Yep.”
“Tomorrow you’re gonna do that thing you do, where you take the car and drive to that mysterious location you go to once a year, then come back at night and not talk, and then the next day pretend nothing happened. Right?”
Luke kept on walking. “That’s the plan.”
“Just checking.” Peter followed.
Neither he nor Tim ever pushed Luke to talk about where he came from, why they’d found him on the side of the road three years ago with nothing but the clothes on his back. They never pushed, which he appreciated. Especially since, aside from one day a year, he didn’t let himself push it either.
“Dinner,” Tim announced just as they walked in, as though he’d been waiting for them for just this moment, “is served.”
And it was burgers again. Luke followed Peter to the table, eying them suspiciously. “They look slimy.”
“But satisfying,” Tim argued, mouth already full. “What, would you rather pay for food?”
It was a good point, unfortunately. Luke sat, forcing himself to dig in. Don’t think about it, don’t worry about it, he repeated to himself. It makes everything easier. If Tim and Peter had taught him anything, it was that.
They taught him how to get by on as minimal effort as possible, how to ignore everything but the present. They were outsiders, nobodies, and they’d pretty much saved Luke’s life three years ago.
---
Luke is near collapse. He’s never been this tired, this drained and empty before. Everything hurts, his eyes barely staying open, and the haze surrounding him could be from pain or shock, he just isn’t sure. But he has to keep moving. He has to get away from... he has to get away. He doesn’t even really remember what, but he knows something happened because of him, and he has to get away.
His feet suddenly stop agreeing, and Luke sinks to the ground, knees crashing even more painfully against gravel and grass. Everything hurts. He’s too tired to...
He must’ve closed his eyes, because all of a sudden it’s darker out and there’s a voice- two voices- in front of him.
“Check for a pulse or something, dumbass. He’s gonna get eaten by buzzards if we just go.”
There’s movement, and Luke flinches, holds up an arm as best he can to ward off whatever the hell is going on.
“Oh shit it’s alive. It’s alive,” one of the voices dances farther away.
“It’s not an ‘it’, it’s a ‘he’,” the first voice snaps. “It’s, Jesus, he’s just a kid.” A figure kneels down in front of him, where Luke realizes he’s sitting slumped against a tree on the side of the road. “Hey, you okay? Do you need me to call... well, we don’t have cell phones or anything, but you need an ambulance?”
“There’s blood on him,” the second voice points out.
“No shit, Sherlock, that’s why I asked,” First Voice turns to Luke again. “You with us, buddy?”
“Yeah,” Luke coughs, clears his throat (but not his head). “Yeah. I’m fine. ‘S okay.”
“Uh-huh,” Second Voice says skeptically. “Yeah. It totally looks fine and okay.”
“Luke,” he snaps without thinking. “Not ‘it’.”
Both voices pause, then laugh. Luke blinks until they come into focus. Two guys, a few years older than him. Dressed shabbily, a little unkempt, he can’t tell if they’re hippies or homeless or both, and doesn’t really care. He doesn’t even have a wallet for them to steal, so unless they want his torn and bloody clothes, there’s nothing they can really do to him.
“I’m Peter,” First Voice says. “This is Tim. You need a lift anywhere? A ride?” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder at a car sitting idle on the side of the road next to them. Luke hadn’t noticed it until now. “This probably isn’t the best place to nap.”
Luke shakes his head as best he can, struggling to his feet. That drumming in his head to get away get away get away is back. “No, it’s fine. Thanks.”
“You sure?” he’s actually surprised when Tim speaks up. “We’re not headed anywhere in particular, just looking for a place to set up shop for a little while. You look like you could use...” he trails off. Luke probably looks like he could use a lot of things.
He stuffs his hands into his pockets to hide their shaking. “I don’t know where I’m going. So no thanks.” He starts to walk away, slowly, carefully.
“Hey kid!” he hears after a few seconds. Peter jogs and easily catches up with him. “Hey, we’re outcasts too, it’s cool. We’re totally on board with the whole ‘turning your back on the world’ thing. But dying of starvation, not so cool. Come with us, at least for a day or two. Till you get back to fighting form.”
Luke stops, stares at Peter’s open, friendly face. He’s so fucking tired. He’s weighed down by... by something. Something he can’t remember and can’t get himself to try remembering. “Just... just a day or two?”
Peter shrugs. “Sure.” He gestures for Luke to follow him back to the car. “No big deal.”
Tim is waiting, eyeing him. “So, Luke, you got a lifestory?”
“No,” he says, shutting down a little.
“Good, we don’t want to hear one,” Tim says automatically. “Me and Pete, we got a good policy between us. Past is past, not worth thinking about. We do what we have to to get by, and sharing feelings is not one of those things.” He opens the door to the backseat of the car, raising an eyebrow. “Sound good to you?”
Luke looks back and forth between them. He’s exhausted, starving, just on the verge of a breakdown and can’t remember why. Tim’s words sound like the perfect solution. The only solution, really. “Yeah,” he nods, going through the open door. “Um, thanks.”
He leans his head back against the seat, letting Tim and Peter’s inane chatter wash over him, and realizes the only thing he feels right now is relief, as whatever he’d been walking away from gets farther and farther away, smaller and smaller in the car’s rear window.
Luke closes his eyes.
---
He opened his eyes. It was early, maybe a little after seven in the morning. The apartment was quiet except for the faint noise of Pete’s snoring from his room down the hall.
Luke rolled out of bed (well, rolled out of mattress, there never had been an actual frame for it),and pulled on the first clean shirt he found in his bag. Three years, and he still wouldn’t unpack it. Thanks to his roommates he’d amassed a few belongings together, clean clothes and such, but he kept them in a duffel bag. Almost defiantly, though he wasn’t sure why anymore, and he couldn’t get himself to think too hard about it.
He half-heartedly searched the kitchen cabinets for some cereal, but they’d run out two days ago and nobody had bought more yet. It was probably his turn. He’d get some tomorrow, if he remembered. Luke poured some water from the tap instead, drinking from what he was pretty sure was a clean mug, and looked out the window over the sink. The weather was perfectly fine and drab, which was what he preferred. Forgettable and mind-numbing.
The usual.
He poured out the rest of the water and headed for the door, grabbing his jacket. Tim had left his keys on the same hook, and Luke had to smile at that, thanked him silently, and headed out.
He got onto the highway, glad that the early morning meant barely anyone else was outside. He didn’t want to share any of this- the day, the road, his headspace- with anyone.
Somehow, even with only having driven this route three times, he knew it perfectly. But there was nothing perfect about this. His dad died three years ago today.
Luke turned onto the section of highway where it had happened. He never came onto this exit, except for this. Pay his respects, for whatever little bit they were worth anymore. He pulled the car over to the side of the road near where they had gone over. The guard rail had finally been fixed last year, he noticed. Grass had grown back over the scorch marks and tire indents. Other than that, it looked exactly the same every year.
Except there was something else different this year. There was someone standing there. In his spot. The spot Luke had claimed as his, where he could sit and mourn his dad in peace (just for a day, then go back to forgetting).
No. He stomped past a fancy rental car and approached in the early-morning-barely-there light. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
The guy scrambled to his feet from the guard rail he’d been sitting against. “Sorry, I-” He stopped.
Luke got a good look at him, finally. And he stopped too.
“Luke?” the voice was a whisper, broken, disbelieving. Shocked. And familiar.
“Noah?”
***
They stared at each other for what had to be a few minutes. Not even drinking in the moment, just trying to process that the moment was real.
“Oh God, Luke?” Noah shook his head. “You-?” he stepped forward in a rush, grabbed Luke and pulled him close with a hard tug.
And for a second there was no world or worries or anything around them, it was just them. Noah. Noah’s hugs were always- had always been- perfect. Luke brought his arms up, glad they remembered where to go around Noah’s shoulders and neck when his brain couldn’t figure it out. He was shaking. They were both shaking.
Noah finally pulled back, his eyes wide and wild. “How? You, you’re supposed to be... you’re alive?”
Luke studied him now, finally comprehending who was standing in front of him. He looked over his... (your nothing. he’s not your anything)... he looked over Noah, checking for the tiny differences he knew should be there after so long.
And Noah was different, somehow. He was still as slim and tall (and beautiful) as ever, but he was more... there wasn’t much of him that looked like a boy anymore. Luke was reminded of a description from The Princess Bride, ‘a trifle thinner, a great deal wiser, an ocean sadder.’ It was what Buttercup looked like after she learned of Westley’s death.
Oh. Noah’s words finally settled in. Oh. “You... you thought I was dead?”
“Jesus, Luke,” Noah took a few steps away, rubbing a hand over his jaw and mouth for a second. It threw Luke completely; it was obviously an unconscious gesture, but not one that Luke recognized. The stubble along his face was almost perfectly groomed, too. His clothes were well-kept, nice dark jeans and a cashmere sweater. There was a faint mark- a few of them, actually, tiny and scattered- around Noah’s eyes. Scars? What? “You were in the car with Holden. It... there was no way anyone could’ve survived the explosion. They told us.”
Luke opened and shut his mouth a few times. “I got out of the car in time. Dad didn’t.”
Noah stilled at Luke’s words, and the empty tone in which he’d said them. “Oh.” He moved closer to Luke, not quite touching, but looking over every inch of him, still not believing. “You have to come back to home with me.”
And it was Luke’s turn to step back. “Home?”
“Oakdale,” Noah insisted. “They need to know you’re okay, everyone needs- God, your mom, she’s gonna freak out.”
“You still live in Oakdale?” Luke blinked, latching onto the one thing that wouldn’t make him panic right now. Delaying the inevitable, probably. His mom? Freak out? Yes. She’d hate him if she knew.
“Yeah,” Noah said quietly, and only the fact that he couldn’t quite meet Luke’s eyes betrayed the steadiness of his voice. “I work at Grimaldi Shipping.”
“You-?” Luke shook his head. “For Damian?” Noah nodded, still looking away. “But what about film school? New York, California?” Noah was supposed to be a filmmaker. Noah was supposed to be doing what made him happy. One of them was supposed to be, right?
Noah shrugged one shoulder. “Things changed.” He didn’t elaborate, and Luke couldn’t bring himself to ask why. Noah was standing in front of him again, close, and he reached out slowly, touching the side of Luke’s face. Luke held still, letting him get the reassurance he seemed to need that this was real. They all really thought that he’d been dead all this time?
He heard Noah’s breath hitch, stuck in his throat, and suddenly his own eyes were welling up. God, he was just the most beautiful thing Luke had ever seen. “Noah.”
Noah exhaled quickly, a soft wounded noise escaping, and pulled Luke close again, their foreheads touching. Luke brought his hands up, holding onto the collar of Noah’s sweater. Maybe he needed that reassurance too. His eyes barely open, he watched Noah move his mouth in closer, stop, move closer again. He smiled a little at the caution, that silent question, and closed the last of the distance between them.
They kissed slowly, gently. And Luke had never felt as right as he did when Noah kissed him. He tightened his grip on Noah’s collar but didn’t strengthen the kiss. They both needed it like this. Noah finally eased back, his hand still on Luke’s face. He smiled just a little (just enough) and flicked back a few strands of Luke’s hair. “It’s darker.”
Luke offered a smile back. He couldn’t really bring himself to say that without a farm, he spent most of his time indoors, and Kentucky mountains didn’t really offer as much space for the sun. His hair had naturally gotten a little brown.
“I work at a coffeeshop,” he murmured, blushing a little. “I live in this crappy apartment with two other guys. They’re good guys. Not really, uh, ambitious, but they’re good friends. You’ll like them, and they’ll definitely like you. And I-”
“Luke,” Noah’s eyes narrowed, confused. “You’re coming home, right? You have to.”
“No I don’t,” he said it immediately, without thinking. The panic and stubbornness set in quicker than anything else ever would. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Noah let go of him, backing up a few steps as though needing to get a better look at him. It made Luke fidget. “What do you mean? Your family, and everyone, and- and you have to come home.”
“I can’t,” he repeated, almost helplessly. “You don’t understand.”
“Okay. Then tell me,” Noah crossed his arms. “Tell me why you’d rather stay away from your family and friends- your life- and let them think you’re dead. God, Luke.”
“You don’t understand, and you couldn’t,” he insisted, defensive, determined. “This is just the way things are now. Maybe I was supposed to have that great life in Oakdale, but that’s gone now. And so am I. Things are better this way.”
“You think things are better?” Noah’s voice was rising, face gaining more color. “Do you? Is your life so much better out here without any of us? A coffeeshop and... and...” He stopped himself. “Because things in Oakdale are not better, Luke. We- people back home could really use your help.”
“No one needs me,” he argued. I let my dad die. No one needs someone like that.
But Noah didn’t know that. He flinched instead, like Luke had hit him. “Think about your mom. And grandmothers. Ethan and the girls. You think they don’t need you?”
He said nothing about himself, Luke noticed. Same old Noah. He didn’t need- or, more accurately, didn’t want to need- anyone. “I think they’re better off without me.”
“How can you say that? The Luke I knew would never leave them behind if he knew how much they missed him. And need him.” He got quieter. “Luke, Damian is... he’s pretty much taken over the whole town. But he’s not Holden, and he’s not you. Why aren’t you-” he shook his head again. “Please come home.”
“No.” He said it firmly. This was just the way it had to be.
Noah’s jaw set in that way that told Luke just how angry he was. “They still love you. Why the hell would you let them suffer like this?”
“Things changed,” he threw Noah’s words back in his face, trying to push buttons he counted on still being there. Better this, defensive anger and disappointment, than the panic he always fought to keep at bay. Better this than having them all know it was his fault Holden was dead.
“So... so, what- I’m supposed to go back to your family and tell them you’re alive but refuse to come home?” Noah’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the light from the sunrise. Luke couldn’t tell if it was from the sun or from tears. It had to be the sun. Noah didn’t cry. “What are you even doing here?”
“What are you doing here? Why are you here at all?” Luke pushed again, voice rising.
Noah looked away. “Damian sent me to Tennessee for a business meeting, and I...” he swallowed hard, his head ducking for a second with the effort, and that gesture was so familiar that Luke had to lock his knees to stay upright. “I knew what today was. I wanted to be here. I wanted to be near you.” His voice cracked. “Three years, Luke. I haven’t been able to-” he stopped, walked away, back towards the luxury rental car.
Noah would never drive a car that expensive, he told himself fiercely, following Noah against his better judgment. “You don’t have to tell them anything,” he blurted out.
Noah froze right at the car door. “What?” His back still to Luke.
“Mom. Grandmother. Damian, whoever. You don’t have to tell them. That you saw me, that I’m here.” Suddenly he became insistent. “Don’t tell them.”
Noah’s arms came up to brace against the top of the car, as though holding himself up. “How can you ask me to do that?” his voice was small.
Luke pushed away the sound and held strong. “They can’t know. I’m not a part of that life anymore, Noah. It’s been three years, they don’t need everything brought back up again. And I’m not going back. So it’s just better this way.”
Noah’s head dropped forward, shaking. “I can’t. You need to come home.”
“It’s not my home anymore,” he said firmly, much more steady than he actually felt. The universe was really really cruel, to show him Noah again when he couldn’t have him. God damn it, hadn’t he lost enough? “You should go. Forget you saw me.”
Noah finally turned around again, paler than he’d been since seeing Luke alive in front of him. “Don’t you care about... that I-”
“Noah,” Luke shook his head. The idea of Oakdale, of being anywhere near there again, was impossible. A perfect storm of mistakes and guilt and regrets Luke couldn’t face anymore. “You need to forget about me. Let go of it- of the past. Like I did.”
“Yeah?” Noah’s face was somewhere between lost and furious. He yanked the car door open and got in. “Like you did. Of course.” With the window open, Luke couldn’t really escape the look on his face, in his eyes. “I spent the last three years of my life without you,” he spoke more to the steering wheel than to Luke. “What’s a hundred more?”
And then he was driving away. And Luke thought that maybe this was actually the closest he’d ever come to dying.
***
Everything was different now.
He didn’t mean that in a grand sense. He didn’t mean that, since seeing Noah, he was looking at the world differently or his life differently. Okay, maybe he was doing that a little bit too, but at this moment he was talking about something else, something more literal, more real and specific.
He had spent three days moping and brooding after Noah drove away. Not going to work, not really eating. Just drifting between the hours of one roommate coming home and the other going out. Three days, until the dam finally broke and Luke got angry. At himself, at Noah, at God, at everything that made his life what it was now. He threw stuff, broke stuff, possible did damage to a window or maybe it was a mirror but it was definitely some shiny surface he couldn’t remember.
Two hours later there was disaster in his bedroom and two mildly concerned roommates in his doorway. Peter had taken it all in calmly, nodding to himself like this confirmed oh so much. Maybe it did. Luke didn’t have any energy left to glare or deflect questions. Luckily, they didn’t ask any.
“Clearly,” Tim scratched his chin. “You kinda got some issues to work on. And while you’re always gonna be welcome here, for real, maybe- for the sake of your sanity and our drywall- now’s a good time to work on them?”
Luke just stared blankly at them. Something fell off the wall behind him. Had he done that?
Peter clarified. “Go back and fix things, Luke. Fix whatever got you all Hulked out here. This ain’t healthy.”
And now, after a two day bus ride, Luke could definitely say that everything was different. Oakdale. Oakdale was different. The first obvious sign of this was when he got off the bus, directly across from the offices for WorldWide.
WorldWide was gone. The building was still there, but it was marked with a sign reading ‘Grimaldi Worldwide’ now. Grimaldi? Damian?
Damian is... he’s pretty much taken over the whole town. Noah’s voice echoed in his head. He hadn’t thought Noah meant this, meant it literally. It couldn’t really be the whole town, right? (And where the hell was Lucinda?)
Luke re-shouldered his backpack and turned, walking down Third Street, trying to figure out where to go first. Worldwide had been the original plan, he figured that out of everyone in Oakdale, his grandmother would be the best to get on his side first (After what just happened in Kentucky, Noah was most definitely out of the picture.)
The next smartest option was Jack. Jack could be rational, Jack was a cop, Jack was...
He rounded the corner to the police station and stopped short once more. Something was wrong, something was (for lack of a better word) different. Jack’s car wasn’t there. Which, okay, maybe he was out on a patrol or a case or whatever. And Margo’s was there, but not in her normal spot, not in front of the little metal sign that said “Police Chief.”
“Hey, excuse me,” he grabbed the sleeve of a uniformed cop walking by. “Are Detective Snyder and Lieutenant Hughes inside?” The cop didn’t answer him right away, eyeing him suspiciously. “I used to live here as a kid. Just curious,” he lied as fast as he could. And hey- it wasn’t actually a lie.
The cop glanced around, as if checking no one was eavesdropping. “Detective Hughes, yeah. She’s inside.”
“Detective?” Luke echoed. “But I thought she was the Chief, a Lieutenant?”
The cop (Luke dubbed him Sparky in his head. He looked like a Sparky) shrugged. “She used to be. Got demoted like two years ago during the big transition.”
“Transition?” Luke repeated again, trying to sound more casually curious than terrified out of his mind.
“The mayor brought in a new police chief and a few new lieutenants. They bumped down every senior office already here.” The guy shrugged again. “That’s how it goes sometimes. I don’t know any Detective Snyder.”
No Jack? What the hell? “Who’s the mayor now?” he asked, hastening to add, “Maybe I remember him.”
Sparky didn’t even notice the slip-up. “Dan Hawthorne. Know him?”
Yeah, Luke really really did. He’d been one of the executives of Grimaldi Shipping three years ago. “Oh, uh, must’ve been after my time,” he lied lamely. “Thanks.” No way was he going in there, if it was all under Damian’s touch. He wasn’t ready for that yet. Or, you know, ever.
He walked a little more warily now, trying to take in every detail around him as he headed towards Old Town. Things had changed. Noah was right. Everything seemed... grayer. A little emptier. Here and there, storefronts that had been bright and full were gone now, windows dark. Some were even boarded up.
Old Town seemed emptier too. Everything at least looked the same here, but it felt different. Heavier, like a storm cloud hanging over it all. He turned the corner after Al’s, and stopped short.
The bench. The bench was gone.
Luke stared at the empty bit of brick and sidewalk. He struggled to swallow through a suddenly dry mouth. This was his and Noah’s bench, it was supposed to be there forever. At his most romantic- at his only brush with romanticism in the last few years- he’d thought of that stupid bench as a monument. Even though things were different now, that bench would always be there as a reminder of what had been.
But no. Like everything else, it was doomed to disappear.
Luke choked on nothing, bringing a fist up to his mouth. It’s just a stupid bench, he snapped at himself. It’s wood. It’s nothing. Well, that was pretty much true. It really was nothing now.
He was still staring at the nothing when someone suddenly grabbed him from behind. Two arms like iron bands around his chest, lifting him up off the ground by a few inches. “No way no way no way no way no way no way no way-”
He took a guess. “Casey?”
The hug got tighter for a few seconds before he was set back down. “Hi.”
Luke smiled, he couldn’t help it. “Hi.” He turned around, face-to-face with him. “Um, I can explain?”
He was pulled into another bearhug. “Yeah, I bet you can, you fucker. What... you’re, like, alive.”
“Yeah, kinda.” He stepped back enough to get a good look at Casey. For the most part (and Luke wasn’t sure why he expected differently), he looked the same. His hair was cut shorter, but everything else was pure Casey Hughes. That is, until he rubbed a hand over his eyes, and Luke noticed the ring on his left hand. “You...?” He didn’t dare guess who. This was Oakdale, after all.
Casey looked down at his hand, then back up with a smile. “Me and Ali. Two years ago.” He waved a hand, inviting. “Go on, you’re allowed to act shocked that we’re still together.”
Luke just shook his head. He’d been shocked enough in the past couple days. “You guys are happy?”
A shadow passed, a millisecond long, across Casey’s face before disappearing. “Yeah, we are now. For the most part.” Before Luke could question it, he continued, “Things are just... stuff has changed since you’ve been dead, man. Lots of stuff.”
Luke looked around, eyes landing on where his bench should be. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“Does anyone else know you’re here? Alive?” Casey half-turned and started walking away from Old Town, Luke unconsciously following.
“No.” He wanted to leave it at that, but his stupid mouth betrayed him. “I saw Noah a few days ago. We both showed up at... where it happened.”
Casey winced. “Fuck. Bet that went well.”
“Not really,” he said, proud and surprised at how steady his voice sounded. “He’s... he looks...” it ended with shrug.
“Yeah,” Casey twitched a little. “He does look.” Casey glanced around, as though expecting to be followed. “Have you seen your family yet? I mean,” he blew out a long breath. “Do you have time right now? You’ve missed a lot, man. A lot.”
Luke wasn’t sure he could bring himself to see (what was left of) his family right now. “I have time. Can we get coffee? Java?”
Casey twitched again. “It closed down awhile ago. We can get some at Al’s though, come on.”
“Java’s gone?” He didn’t stop in his tracks, but it was a near thing.
Casey just grumbled under his breath. “Part of me thinks he got rid of it just so Noah couldn’t go back to working there.”
“Casey, what the hell is going on?” he scrambled to keep up with Casey’s pace now.
“Damian,” Casey answered. “He’s taken over everything, Luke. The mayor is run out of his pocket. The police. Half the businesses in town were bought up by Grimaldi. He took over Worldwide and ran your grandmother out of town. Jack is out of a job. My mom got demoted. Your aunt, Meg, she’s in some, like, mental institution. Half the hospital board is bribed by him.”
“God...” Luke almost stumbled, but Casey just grabbed his arm and pulled him along. “What-?”
“He and your mom are together,” Casey said this quietly, gently. “They live at your mom’s house. The kids live with them sometimes, but they spend a lot of time at the farm with Emma.” They turned a corner and walked past Metro. It was still there, but the name was different. Something Italian. (Or Maltese?)
“She works at the Lakeview?”
“Some,” Casey hedged. “Damian bought it from her, so technically she, uh, works for him. Noah does too. They’re both... Damian looks after them both. A lot.” Casey’s tone verged on bitter at that point.
“Does he...” Luke slowed down as they approached Al’s. It looked surprisingly, thankfully, the same. But maybe that was why he couldn’t get his feet to go any closer.
Luckily, Casey noticed. “Wait here. I’ll get some cups to go.”
***
“Okay, this should be good,” Casey dragged Luke down to the bench at the edge of the gazebo. Luke looked around as they sat, taking it in. He’d forgotten all about this park; there’d never been a need to go when they had their own pond at the farm. “So.”
“So,” Luke echoed, twisting his hands around in his lap.
“You’re not a zombie,” Casey pointed out, possibly in complete seriousness. “So I’m guessing you didn’t actually die in that car accident.”
“No,” Luke shook his head. “I got free of the car before...” he trailed off, and thankfully Casey got it.
“So you spent some time away dealing with it, and now you’re back?” he way, way oversimplified. Luke nodded gratefully, and he nodded back. They both recognized the presence of a ‘there’s way more to this story’ cloud hanging over Luke, but they both ignored it for now. “So, um, are you back for real?”
“I don’t know yet,” he answered honestly.
Casey just nodded again. He got it. Maybe. “Well, is there any other stuff you want to know? I know I gave you the crappy rundown, but want me to fill you in on the good Oakdale gossip you’ve missed?”
He’d meant it as a joke, at least Luke thought he did, but he decided to take it seriously. “Tell me about Noah.”
Casey’s cautious smile slipped away. “What?”
“Noah. What’s happened to him since- since I left.” Luke stumbled over the words. It felt kinda wrong, like spying or invading some bit of privacy, but it was Noah. Luke was allowed.
Casey’s frown didn’t really help though. “I, uh, I guess I could. I mean, I probably know more about him than most, and...” he stopped, then continued. “And I guess there’s some stuff you should know.”
He ignored that last sentence- the implication was too much to let himself think about. “You probably know more than most?”
Casey nodded. “We’re friends. Me and Alison, we got close to him. He lived with Ali for awhile after his first surgery.” Casey had been fidgeting, but he stopped and looked straight at Luke when he said those last words.
Luke just stared back. “Surgery?” First surgery? “Casey, what-?”
Casey rolled up his sleeves, and Luke wasn’t sure if it was out of habit or because he needed to prepare just that much. “I’m not gonna tell you everything, Luke. At least, even of what I know, I’m only telling as much as I feel comfortable. Don’t interrupt me, okay? It’s gonna suck. A lot. It sucked going through it, it’s gonna suck retelling it. Just let me get through. Okay?”
Luke swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth. He wanted to kick himself too. Of course. Of course Oakdale hadn’t been perfect while he’d been gone, there was always drama and chaos going on. Why had he thought Noah would stay untouched from it? “Okay,” he whispered.
Casey began quietly, slowly. “After you died, it was... I mean, not a shock that Noah wasn’t doing well. It was hard. And we kept waiting for him to break down, but he was all, I don’t know, ‘Noah’ about it. All he did was work and work. At Java and school and his film.” Casey stopped there, pointedly.
His film. And even three years later, Luke’s thoughts clouded darkly around one person. “Mason.”
“Yeah.”
Casey took a sip of his coffee, while Luke stared. A remnant of ‘old him’ was bristling and angry at Mason, at Noah for not believing him when he’d warned about something like this. “What did he do?”
“Luke, you were gone. You were dead. Noah was hurting and grieving and confused. He wasn’t taking care of himself. Ali and Maddie and I, we were trying, but we couldn’t always be there for him. I think we reminded him too much of you sometimes, or maybe he thought he shouldn’t bother us, we were going through our own shit at the time, I don’t know. And because of your mom, your family wasn’t-” he cut himself off again. “You don’t get to be mad at Noah. Got it?”
Luke sat back, Casey’s words had pushing him there. “O-okay.” He needed to hear the rest of the story. (It’s not a story. It’s Noah’s life, you dumbass.)
Casey sighed, calming down a little. “He broke it off really quick, okay? He knew it was wrong. But like a week later, after I found out, it just got scary. Mason wouldn’t let it go. He was showing up everywhere, calling him a lot, threatening his grade, everything. Noah stopped going to classes, he was pretty close to dropping out of school. It was bad.” Casey scowled. “He stopped working on his movie. If that doesn’t tell you how bad it got...”
Luke felt a little like throwing up. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t have really happened. “Is that why he’s working for Damian?”
Casey’s frown just deepened at the mention of Damian. “Damian already had his claws in at this point. I don’t know how, but he found out about Mason’s stalking. He had the jackass fired from OU, and Mason left town the next day. No one’s heard from him since.”
He swallowed hard again. They hadn’t even gotten to... “Surgery?” he managed to prompt.
“Noah went back to school, but he wasn’t, I don’t know, like he had been. He wasn’t as focused or something. He was trying to film something with fireworks, and I don’t know what happened exactly, but they went off in his face. He fell and...” Casey stopped, looked away.
“How bad?”
“He kinda died,” Casey said softly. “Sort of. They had to restart his heart. And emergency surgery, bleeding in his brain, and...” Words just tumbled out of him without stopping, piling on top of Luke. “When he woke up he was blind.”
“He was... no.” Luke couldn’t have that be real, he couldn’t let it be. No. That wasn’t supposed to happen to Noah. Not to anyone, but especially not him.
But Casey and the universe didn’t listen to him. “For six months.The only reason he can see now is because Damian bribed this hotshot surgeon guy to come and operate on him and fix him. So to speak.”
So to speak. “He seems okay now,” Luke murmured.
Casey shook his head, throwing him a skeptical look. "We all do, don’t we? But we’re not. Look around, Luke, look at this town.” Casey fiddled with the lid of his coffee cup. "He tried- tries- to act like old Noah but sometimes I don't know." Another small smile. "I don’t know. He gave Ali away at our wedding."
Luke's heart broke a little at the seemingly random comment, picturing it. He bet it had been kinda beautiful. He could picture Noah smiling down at Ali, that same smile he had always given Luke's sisters when they hugged him.
His sisters. God, he didn’t even know anything about them now. Faith was in high school. Natalie in junior high. Ethan was probably in kindergarten, or first grade?
His thoughts trailed off again at the look on Casey’s face. It was that ‘please don’t punch me’ element combined with ‘what I’m about to tell you isn’t my fault’ expression that he used to give Margo all the time. “What?” he prompted. Of course there was more. Why wouldn’t there be more?
He took another sip of his coffee, even though Luke could tell the cup was empty. Casey just needed something to do. “Noah’s kinda... with someone right now. But not serious,” he hastened to add. “They’re, like, casual or something. No one really knows.”
Luke ignored any and all feelings. Any of them, all of them. Nope. “Noah doesn’t do casual,” was what came out of his mouth in response. He could hold onto that, that was just a universal truth.
Casey just shrugged, finally giving up on the empty coffee cup, using the pretext of throwing it away to avoid looking at Luke. “There’s a lot Noah does now that he didn’t before you died.”
***
The girls were already arguing; he could hear it as he entered the porch. He rolled his shoulders to loosen them, then set them determinedly. He didn’t care if it was about Damian or breakfast or boybands, it’d be over before they left for school, he’d make sure of that. He entered the kitchen cautiously.
“But you have to!” Natalie protested, arms crossed, eyes flashing with the tears that came more from being angry than anything else.
Faith kept up an exterior of boredom, but there was some anger and desperation in her face too. “I don’t have to do anything. No one’s making me go if he’s going to be there.”
And then Noah knew what the fuss was about. “Wrong,” he let the door shut behind him, eyes ticking to helpless, frustrated Emma by the stove before looking at Faith again. “I’m making you.”
He didn’t stop moving, kept up his calm, confident demeanor as he walked past both girls to the table where Ethan was bouncing happily in his seat, beckoning Noah over. Noah grinned at him as he sat down, immediately reaching for the sneakers he knew would be untied on Ethan’s feet.
“Noah,” Faith whined, coming closer. Natalie was on her heels, wisely keeping quiet.
“Faith,” Noah countered, tying one of Ethan’s shoes quickly. “It’s Nat’s first dance recital of the year. You should be there.” He finished the right sneaker, and Ethan quickly propped his left sneaker on Noah’s lap, knowing the drill. It wasn’t like Ethan couldn’t tie them on his own now, but this was just their thing.
“If Damian’s going to be there, then I’m not,” she finally got out her real reason for refusing.
Noah reached out and tapped Natalie’s elbow, guiding her back to the table and her half-eaten breakfast. “Yeah, he’s going to be there. But-” he fixed her with a look when she tried to interrupt. “So will I. And your Grandma, and Ethan, and your cousins.” He raised one eyebrow pointedly. “And your sister. So maybe the good’s going to outweigh the bad and you can put up with it.”
“Mom’s not even going,” Faith tried one last argument, if a little weakly.
Noah didn’t flinch at that, though he wanted to. He knew why Lily wasn’t going, and hated himself a little for it. “All the more reason for Nat to have more people cheering for her.” He didn’t say it, but Faith obviously heard the unspoken, So you want to be like your mom, then?
Faith was quiet for another minute, weighing her options and trying not to notice the sad yet hopeful expression on her sister’s face. “Fine,” she finally sighed. “But you have to make breakfast the next day.”
“Pancakes!” Ethan cheered. “You have to make berry-chocolate this time.”
Noah fought to keep his face impassive, turning to Ethan. “I didn’t know you were part of these negotiations.” Faith smiled out of the corner of his eye, so he let himself relax secretly. He sensed Emma do the same, coming close to clear away breakfast dishes.
“Pancakes,” Ethan pointed out in response.
Noah gave a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Pancakes,” he agreed. “It’s a deal.”
Emma put a travel mug of coffee in front of him, kissed the top of his head. “I approve. Now all of you get going, you girls are going to miss your bus!” She handed out paper bags of lunch to the girls, giving Ethan’s to Noah.
A few more kisses from her, Noah reminding Natalie that her homework was probably still sitting in the den on the coffee table (it was), and the girls rushed out, chatting happily, fight forgotten. Ethan was pulling on his own backpack (G.I Joe toys, two storybooks, and one spelling list inside), bouncing on his feet by the door while Noah helped Emma with the last of the dishes.
“You missed dinner last night,” Emma said quietly, almost sounding casual.
“Sorry,” he said immediately, unsure of what else he could say. Truth be told, he’d been trying to avoid them all week, ever since getting back from Kentucky. It was hard to be around them, now knowing what he knew. Luke. He wasn’t sure what to tell them, and he didn’t know how. “Been catching up on work.”
“Of course,” she just nodded. “You do know you tend to cut your sentences short when you’re trying to avoid talking about something, right?”
He almost jerked and sent soap flying across the kitchen, but he’d actually gotten used to Emma’s observations by this point. “Yeah. Um, sorry.” It was all he could come up. Lame, lame, lame.
“You should come tonight instead. I’m already cooking for ten people, one more won’t hurt.”
Emma was sneaky like that, but Noah was probably more stubborn. Or practical, at least. “Is Lily going to be here?”
Her hesitation told him everything. And told him that he wouldn’t be coming to dinner that night.
---
Noah hates funerals.
That isn’t exactly a groundbreaking statement, it’s not like anyone is ever really walking into a funeral upbeat and happy, but still. It feels like Noah has been to a few funerals every year of his life before he finally got away from his dad. Military funerals were all rigid and formal and planned out to the very last second. Noah always had his role to play. He hated it.
But this?
He hates this so much it hurts. Or he hates this so much because it hurts. One of the two.
If it weren’t for Aaron walking next to him up to the church, he’s pretty sure he’d be making a break for it. But Luke would want him to be here, he reminds himself. Luke wouldn’t want him spending this day alone, no matter how much Noah wants to be.
The family is gathering off to the side just outside the steps- Damian with his arm around Lily (Noah tries not to frown at that, Damian really has been supportive of everyone since the accident, even him), Lucinda with the girls and Ethan, Emma and Jack, Brad and Meg, a few Snyder siblings Noah has never met.
They’re starting to walk in when Noah and Aaron approach, Ethan waving to Noah as Lucinda takes them inside. Lily’s eyes- as tired and tear streaked as they’ve been all week- flash when she sees Noah. “No.”
His footsteps falter, thrown by what sounds like anger in her tone. Aaron stops next to him, also confused. “What?” Aaron pats down his suit, as though trying to find something wrong with it.
Lily shakes her head, eyes never leaving Noah. “He’s not sitting with us.”
His chest really hurts now, tight and heavy. “M-Mrs. Snyder, I-” He always does this. So many adults in this town insist on being called by their first names, but whenever he’s nervous or unsettled he ends up reverting back to old habits.
“Lily,” Damian’s voice is almost too soothing. “He deserves to be here too.”
He probably doesn’t meant to, but it makes Noah feel worse. He deserves to be at the funeral he’s partially responsible for, right? He keeps quiet, words failing, afraid to say the wrong thing when he’s already done so much wrong. He’s done everything wrong.
Lily obviously agrees. She weakly pushes Damian away, still almost defiantly- or maybe desperately- confronting Noah. “Why was Luke on that trip?” She isn’t asking it like she wants an answer. She’s asking it like she already knows the answer. Which is convenient, because he still can’t get himself to speak. “Why was he there? He wasn’t supposed to be, but you- What did you say to make him go? It’s-”
It’s your fault.
“Hey,” Aaron steps between them, almost as angry. “That’s not fair. Noah’s a part of the family. He’s sitting with-”
“Aaron,” he finally gets himself to talk, forcing the words out. He shakes his head. “It’s okay.” The last thing he wants to do is cause a scene today. Emma doesn’t need that. The girls and Ethan don’t need that. And, honestly, neither do he and Lily. “It’s fine.”
Aaron gives him a look that says it really isn’t fine, but maybe he doesn’t want to cause a scene either. Damian gives him an apologetic look as he leads Lily into the church. Aaron glares half-heartedly at both of them, then turns and waves to someone behind Noah. “Are you sure?”
Noah shrugs. “I’ll see you after.” After Holden and Luke are laid to rest. Forever. Gone.
Aaron still looks doubtful, but his gaze focuses once more on someone behind Noah. “Hey,” he calls out quietly.
Noah turns just as Casey, Alison, and Maddie walk up. Judging by the looks on their faces, they’ve seen- if not heard- what just happened. “Noah,” Ali says quietly, her hand going to his arm. “Come sit with us, okay?” Maddie threads her arm through his other one.
And while it seems a little fucked up and wrong to sit with his ex-girlfriend at his boyfriend’s funeral, it isn’t like he has much of choice.
Lily’s right in some ways (a lot of ways), after all. If he hadn’t convinced Luke to go on the trip, would any of this have happened?
---
Emma just looked even sadder. “Yes, she is.” She added quickly, “But you should come anyway. This thing between you two is silly, and I don’t like that you spend so much time alone in that apartment.”
She always said ‘that’ apartment, not ‘your’ apartment. Probably because she felt the same way about the place as he did. Still, he shrugged, offered her his most charming smile- his ‘sales meeting’ smile. “Well, that’s why I come here for your breakfasts every morning.”
She smiled and sighed at the same time. “Noah,” she shook her head, wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she followed him over to the door. “Honey, I really think...” she trailed off with another smile-sigh as Noah swept Ethan up and around to hook onto his shoulders, backpack and lunch bag and all.
“It’s school time, Grandma,” Ethan announced, trying to sternly wag his finger at Emma. “And Noah can’t be late for work.” And god if Noah didn’t love this little kid a lot.
He squeezed his arms around Ethan for a second in a thank you the boy would never understand, then leaned them both forward and down towards Emma. “What else do you say to Grandma?” he prompted.
Ethan kissed her cheek. “Have a good day, I love you!”
She kissed him back, completing the ritual. “You too, darling.” They had a lot of rituals by this point. She looked back at Noah, eyes going sad again. Maybe almost disappointed. “Dinner?”
Noah swallowed back the guilt and the tiny bitterness at, well, everyone, and smiled. He kissed her other cheek. “Have a good day, I love you.” He repeated Ethan’s words, his tone serious.
She patted his arm, face softening. “You too, honey.” She handed him his coffee. “I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.”
He nodded, smiled again- pretty sure it was genuine- and walked with Ethan out to his car. Another day had begun.
( CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 2)