[Fic] ATWT Ficlet, "Lie to Me"; Luke/Reid, Rated PG
Summary: Part two of what is possibly a soap opera ficlety series thing. Yes, I still know what you are thinking, and I promise I have been mocked by professional mockery people. I scoff at your paltry mockery efforts! Also, unbeata'd. Also, seriously, you should look up the clips, cuz this fandom and this pairing really are a lot of fun. Plus, the comms for this fandom are really kind and welcoming. Like, seriously lovely and fun. (Yes, I'm still deeply invested in all my other fandoms, but you know me. I've always believed in the fandom harem.) Also for the "drowning" square on my h/c bingo card. (Part one is here, but you don't need to read it as this also stands alone.)
Spoilers: Not really. As with all my fic, all the canon is vague (especially here, because I have no idea about it; I can normally do a nominal amount of research, but this fandom is a soap fandom and so, worse than comics fandoms, dude), and the characterization is bendy for the purposes of schmoop!
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, or this universe. I am writing this for my own self-indulgent fun, and because, like Neal Caffrey, I clearly covet other people's things, even if they will never be my own.
Comments, positive or negative, are treasured. Thanks for reading.
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Looking at Luke lying in the hospital bed and swathed in sheets, Reid couldn’t get over how small he looked. Luke was not a small man--but with an IV in his arm and enveloped by the hospital gown, he looked small and fragile and breakable.
Watching him, Reid felt almost as exhausted as he looked. He couldn’t show it, but part of him wanted to run screaming from the room, preferably taking Luke with him. Reid didn’t feel up to getting through the next few days. Even getting there that morning had been an ordeal. Luke, who was usually up and dressed before Reid, had slept in and then dithered and delayed that morning until Reid--worried they were going to be unconscionably late--had barked at him, “It’s a hospital, not a cocktail party--no one cares if your hair’s perfect, Luke!” Luke hadn’t said anything, but his face had crumpled, and Reid had felt like an ass. And if he had already messed up something as simple as getting Luke to the hospital, how would he manage the days ahead?
Reid hated being on this side of the admitting desk. But Luke needed him, so he’d gritted his teeth and cleared his schedule for the next two days, including three surgeries. There was a fourth for a young patient that he hadn’t yet rescheduled--it was the last of the day, and he was the only one that could do it, and the patient needed the surgery done asap. While Reid knew he ought to free up the OR time if he couldn’t manage it, he felt obliged to try if he could. At the same time, he didn’t want to compromise Luke’s care--if Luke needed him, he planned to be there.
Reid knew that, if given the choice, Luke would not only have understood, he’d have pushed Reid to do the surgery and have managed whatever he had to alone--but Reid didn’t want Luke to be forced, yet again, to choose someone else’s welfare above his own. Luke had already done too much of that in his life--and if nothing else came of their relationship, Reid was hoping some of his own selfishness would rub off on Luke. He was still waiting for that, though, and until it happened, Reid was trying hard to guard against Luke’s selflessness, particularly when it compromised Luke’s health or well-being. Which was still selfish of him. Reid had once explained it to Luke. Reid needed Luke, and he hated to worry. Ultimately, he was simply guarding against doing anything to cause himself to worry or deprive him of his creature comforts. Luke, the brat, had just laughed at him.
As if he could read his meandering thoughts, Luke took that moment to look over at Reid, and smiled. But this was not the big, sunshiney, Luke smile Reid was used to--this smile that was tiny and tentative and wavering, like Luke knew how frightened Reid was and was smiling in a desperate bid to reassure Reid that he wasn’t scared, that everything was all right. And how like Luke was it to try to comfort him while he could barely hold it together--even while all Reid could see was how scared Luke looked.
Wow, now his thoughts had fallen straight into babbling. Reid hated that Luke was scared.
Reid crossed over to the bed, sitting down in the chair beside it and took Luke’s hand. They sat there quietly for a time, while Luke looked away but gripped Reid’s hand in a death grip, as if that hand was the only thing anchoring him to the world. After a long time, Luke swallowed and looked up at Reid, “Am I going to be okay?”
Reid had had a long chat with Murray, who had even allowed himself to be browbeaten into letting Reid--with Luke’s permission--look over Luke’s chart. They’d discussed treatment protocols and outcomes and options. It didn’t matter, though. Reid might have been brilliant, he might have been a genius--but he wasn’t a nephrologist, and he wasn’t objective. Not about this. Murray kept talking, but all Reid could hear, all he could remember were words: Luke, sick, mortality . Not even if Reid had had the slightest idea about transplants or nephrology, he knew he was in no position to offer anything like a sound medical opinion. Not about this. “Luke, you know I don’t-”
Luke interrupted in a desperate rush, cutting off Reid’s words as if he was scared to hear them. As if saying them aloud--whatever they were--would make them true. “Reid, you know how you always say it’s better to tell the truth? I usually love that, but right now, I need you to lie to me. Please, Reid, just lie to me.” Luke’s eyes were wide and dark and desperate. Reid could feel something inside himself break and tear and shatter.
But he had never, ever believed in lying about the important things. Hell, for that matter, he’d never believed in lying about the little things. How would it help someone to be told that their godawful dress was pretty when it was obviously hideous, or that their effort was ‘interesting’ when it was actually pretty pathetic? How would that help anyone?
And if he didn’t believe in lying under easy circumstances, he couldn’t give in and lie now. Even as much as Luke wanted him to.
Even as much as he wanted to himself.
“I can’t, Luke. You know I can’t, no matter how much I want to. But I can tell you that Murray is one of the best--I had him checked out, because just like someone I know, I’m not above kidnapping a doctor if I need to. For that matter, I’d blackmail and seduce them, if it would help. And you know how I feel about seducing ugly people.”
Luke smiled on cue, and Reid stroked his hair back from his forehead--unstyled, Luke’s overly long bangs flopped everywhere, hanging in his eyes. “And besides that, I’m your husband, not your doctor--not in this. So at the risk of being overly sentimental, let me tell you what I do know. You know that the odds are in your favour--you’re young, you’re otherwise healthy, you have a lot of support. You know I love you and I’ll do anything you need. I don’t want to make you promises or tell you everything is going to be okay--it’s far from okay, that you’re even here is definitely not okay--but I’m going to do everything I can to make it okay, all right?” Reid kept running his hands through Luke’s soft hair as he spoke, trying to soothe through touch in a way he simply couldn’t with words. As Reid spoke, he watched as the confidence he’d tried to impart in his words sunk in. As he watched, Luke relaxed, that terrible tension leaving him a little, leaving the drugs and exhaustion to claim him in its wake. He watched as Luke struggled to keep his eyes open.
Reid cupped Luke’s cheek, stroking his palm over his face so Luke’s eyes closed automatically. Reid held his hand over them. “Keep ‘em closed--you’re half asleep as it is. Rest for a bit, I’ll be right here.”
Luke frowned and reached up blindly, finding Reid’s hand where it lay over his face, catching it in his own and pulling it down. “Don’t go." His words were slurred and he sounded annoyed, but his eyes didn’t open. How had he not noticed how tired Luke had become?
But Reid was tired too. Bone-weary, in fact, and daunted by the long road ahead, while he knew they had barely even started. They hadn’t even told Luke’s parents, yet, and once they did--well, wouldn’t that be a circus. Maybe it would be a good idea to take a minute, to gather his strength.
Reid pulled Luke’s hand to his mouth, kissing the fingers, and then holding that hand to his chest, cradling it against his body as he leaned over the bed, adjusting the railing so he could lay his head against Luke’s side. It was horribly uncomfortable, but if he closed his eyes, buried his nose in Luke’s side, and applied a copious amount of willful blindness, he could almost imagine that they were at home, with all of their stuff and a sandwich grilling in the sandwich maker (Luke’s gift to him last Christmas), and that everything was safe and good and fine.
For a terribly long moment, Reid wished he had someone to lie to him. He didn’t often miss his parents; he tried not to think about it, but for just once, he desperately wanted someone to tell him it was going to be okay. Instead, he said, blinking the tears out of his eyes, thankful his face was hidden by blankets and Luke and hoping his voice didn’t sound as thick as he feared, “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll just sleep for a bit.”
In the dark, in the quiet, Reid could hear the sounds of Luke breathing, soft and even. He’d often told Luke it was a good thing he didn’t snore, since Reid was such a light sleeper. But right now, Reid wished Luke snored: loud enough to tune out the sounds of the hospital at night, with the calls of other patients and the PA system and the nurses doing their rounds; loud enough to drown out the sound of Reid’s own heart pounding in his ears; loud enough to drown out the sound of Reid’s hitching breath as he tried to hold in the sobs that fought to escape.
It was a long night.
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Now sort of drabble series; if you're interested, part three is here.
Spoilers: Not really. As with all my fic, all the canon is vague (especially here, because I have no idea about it; I can normally do a nominal amount of research, but this fandom is a soap fandom and so, worse than comics fandoms, dude), and the characterization is bendy for the purposes of schmoop!
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, or this universe. I am writing this for my own self-indulgent fun, and because, like Neal Caffrey, I clearly covet other people's things, even if they will never be my own.
Comments, positive or negative, are treasured. Thanks for reading.
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Looking at Luke lying in the hospital bed and swathed in sheets, Reid couldn’t get over how small he looked. Luke was not a small man--but with an IV in his arm and enveloped by the hospital gown, he looked small and fragile and breakable.
Watching him, Reid felt almost as exhausted as he looked. He couldn’t show it, but part of him wanted to run screaming from the room, preferably taking Luke with him. Reid didn’t feel up to getting through the next few days. Even getting there that morning had been an ordeal. Luke, who was usually up and dressed before Reid, had slept in and then dithered and delayed that morning until Reid--worried they were going to be unconscionably late--had barked at him, “It’s a hospital, not a cocktail party--no one cares if your hair’s perfect, Luke!” Luke hadn’t said anything, but his face had crumpled, and Reid had felt like an ass. And if he had already messed up something as simple as getting Luke to the hospital, how would he manage the days ahead?
Reid hated being on this side of the admitting desk. But Luke needed him, so he’d gritted his teeth and cleared his schedule for the next two days, including three surgeries. There was a fourth for a young patient that he hadn’t yet rescheduled--it was the last of the day, and he was the only one that could do it, and the patient needed the surgery done asap. While Reid knew he ought to free up the OR time if he couldn’t manage it, he felt obliged to try if he could. At the same time, he didn’t want to compromise Luke’s care--if Luke needed him, he planned to be there.
Reid knew that, if given the choice, Luke would not only have understood, he’d have pushed Reid to do the surgery and have managed whatever he had to alone--but Reid didn’t want Luke to be forced, yet again, to choose someone else’s welfare above his own. Luke had already done too much of that in his life--and if nothing else came of their relationship, Reid was hoping some of his own selfishness would rub off on Luke. He was still waiting for that, though, and until it happened, Reid was trying hard to guard against Luke’s selflessness, particularly when it compromised Luke’s health or well-being. Which was still selfish of him. Reid had once explained it to Luke. Reid needed Luke, and he hated to worry. Ultimately, he was simply guarding against doing anything to cause himself to worry or deprive him of his creature comforts. Luke, the brat, had just laughed at him.
As if he could read his meandering thoughts, Luke took that moment to look over at Reid, and smiled. But this was not the big, sunshiney, Luke smile Reid was used to--this smile that was tiny and tentative and wavering, like Luke knew how frightened Reid was and was smiling in a desperate bid to reassure Reid that he wasn’t scared, that everything was all right. And how like Luke was it to try to comfort him while he could barely hold it together--even while all Reid could see was how scared Luke looked.
Wow, now his thoughts had fallen straight into babbling. Reid hated that Luke was scared.
Reid crossed over to the bed, sitting down in the chair beside it and took Luke’s hand. They sat there quietly for a time, while Luke looked away but gripped Reid’s hand in a death grip, as if that hand was the only thing anchoring him to the world. After a long time, Luke swallowed and looked up at Reid, “Am I going to be okay?”
Reid had had a long chat with Murray, who had even allowed himself to be browbeaten into letting Reid--with Luke’s permission--look over Luke’s chart. They’d discussed treatment protocols and outcomes and options. It didn’t matter, though. Reid might have been brilliant, he might have been a genius--but he wasn’t a nephrologist, and he wasn’t objective. Not about this. Murray kept talking, but all Reid could hear, all he could remember were words: Luke, sick, mortality . Not even if Reid had had the slightest idea about transplants or nephrology, he knew he was in no position to offer anything like a sound medical opinion. Not about this. “Luke, you know I don’t-”
Luke interrupted in a desperate rush, cutting off Reid’s words as if he was scared to hear them. As if saying them aloud--whatever they were--would make them true. “Reid, you know how you always say it’s better to tell the truth? I usually love that, but right now, I need you to lie to me. Please, Reid, just lie to me.” Luke’s eyes were wide and dark and desperate. Reid could feel something inside himself break and tear and shatter.
But he had never, ever believed in lying about the important things. Hell, for that matter, he’d never believed in lying about the little things. How would it help someone to be told that their godawful dress was pretty when it was obviously hideous, or that their effort was ‘interesting’ when it was actually pretty pathetic? How would that help anyone?
And if he didn’t believe in lying under easy circumstances, he couldn’t give in and lie now. Even as much as Luke wanted him to.
Even as much as he wanted to himself.
“I can’t, Luke. You know I can’t, no matter how much I want to. But I can tell you that Murray is one of the best--I had him checked out, because just like someone I know, I’m not above kidnapping a doctor if I need to. For that matter, I’d blackmail and seduce them, if it would help. And you know how I feel about seducing ugly people.”
Luke smiled on cue, and Reid stroked his hair back from his forehead--unstyled, Luke’s overly long bangs flopped everywhere, hanging in his eyes. “And besides that, I’m your husband, not your doctor--not in this. So at the risk of being overly sentimental, let me tell you what I do know. You know that the odds are in your favour--you’re young, you’re otherwise healthy, you have a lot of support. You know I love you and I’ll do anything you need. I don’t want to make you promises or tell you everything is going to be okay--it’s far from okay, that you’re even here is definitely not okay--but I’m going to do everything I can to make it okay, all right?” Reid kept running his hands through Luke’s soft hair as he spoke, trying to soothe through touch in a way he simply couldn’t with words. As Reid spoke, he watched as the confidence he’d tried to impart in his words sunk in. As he watched, Luke relaxed, that terrible tension leaving him a little, leaving the drugs and exhaustion to claim him in its wake. He watched as Luke struggled to keep his eyes open.
Reid cupped Luke’s cheek, stroking his palm over his face so Luke’s eyes closed automatically. Reid held his hand over them. “Keep ‘em closed--you’re half asleep as it is. Rest for a bit, I’ll be right here.”
Luke frowned and reached up blindly, finding Reid’s hand where it lay over his face, catching it in his own and pulling it down. “Don’t go." His words were slurred and he sounded annoyed, but his eyes didn’t open. How had he not noticed how tired Luke had become?
But Reid was tired too. Bone-weary, in fact, and daunted by the long road ahead, while he knew they had barely even started. They hadn’t even told Luke’s parents, yet, and once they did--well, wouldn’t that be a circus. Maybe it would be a good idea to take a minute, to gather his strength.
Reid pulled Luke’s hand to his mouth, kissing the fingers, and then holding that hand to his chest, cradling it against his body as he leaned over the bed, adjusting the railing so he could lay his head against Luke’s side. It was horribly uncomfortable, but if he closed his eyes, buried his nose in Luke’s side, and applied a copious amount of willful blindness, he could almost imagine that they were at home, with all of their stuff and a sandwich grilling in the sandwich maker (Luke’s gift to him last Christmas), and that everything was safe and good and fine.
For a terribly long moment, Reid wished he had someone to lie to him. He didn’t often miss his parents; he tried not to think about it, but for just once, he desperately wanted someone to tell him it was going to be okay. Instead, he said, blinking the tears out of his eyes, thankful his face was hidden by blankets and Luke and hoping his voice didn’t sound as thick as he feared, “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll just sleep for a bit.”
In the dark, in the quiet, Reid could hear the sounds of Luke breathing, soft and even. He’d often told Luke it was a good thing he didn’t snore, since Reid was such a light sleeper. But right now, Reid wished Luke snored: loud enough to tune out the sounds of the hospital at night, with the calls of other patients and the PA system and the nurses doing their rounds; loud enough to drown out the sound of Reid’s own heart pounding in his ears; loud enough to drown out the sound of Reid’s hitching breath as he tried to hold in the sobs that fought to escape.
It was a long night.
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Now sort of drabble series; if you're interested, part three is here.