fic: filed under L, for luck.
title: filed under L, for luck.
author: inflowers
summary: By the time the desk was cleared of folders, Luke had cried. Twice. And he swears that he even saw a tear trickle from the side of Reid’s eye, though he knows that Reid would deny it.
authors notes: you know i'm a sucker for a bit of angst. but this one is kind of hopeful too, i hope.
It's a Tuesday.
Luke always remembers that the first time it happened, it was a Tuesday.
Because Tuesdays are his favourite day of the week. He finishes work early, and Reid never schedules consults after lunch so they both have the afternoon free. And despite all good intentions, to see movies and have early dinners and spend time doing nice, traditional couple things, they always, always spend Tuesday afternoons curled up in bed.
Which he how he always remembers that it was a Tuesday.
It's almost midnight when Luke wakes with a start, a leg having kicked him hard in the back and almost catapulted him from bed.
"What the f-" He starts, rubbing his back and reminding himself to be quiet because Reid is still sleeping.
Except that he's not really sleeping.
Reid's body is contorted and it's twisting, tangling itself up in the sheets. There's anguish painted across his face, and sweat pouring from his brow. Luke can't tell whether he's awake or not, but he knows that something isn't right.
"Reid?" He asks quietly, moving slowly to get out of bed. He's overcome with an urge, but he's not sure whether it's an urge to run or to reach out and touch him. "Are you okay?"
Reid doesn't respond.
His body tenses and his muscles are rigid, limbs like metal rods. His face is still squeezed tightly together, as though he's not letting himself open his eyes. There's a red flush creeping all over his body, like poison ivy and Luke can see it deepen as the crack in the blinds lets the moonlight through.
He's moaning, but it's nothing like Luke has ever heard before. It's not a moan of pleasure, or happiness. It's guttural and horrifying, like someone reaching in and grabbing hold of the noise and tearing it from Reid's lips.
And then, as quickly as it started, it stops.
Reid's body relaxes and settles back into the sheets, unaware of the dampness the sweat has caused. His face calms instantly, his eyes letting go of the tension and easing back to a natural and peaceful look. Reid's breathing returns to normal, and he even sighs contentedly, seemingly drifting back into a deep and satisfying sleep.
But Luke is wide awake. Sitting up against the headboard, he's glancing at Reid every few seconds, unsure of whether to wake him or let him sleep. He doesn't know what happened, and if he's being honest, he's terrified. He's terrified of it happening again, but more than that he's scared of what it means. He knows it wasn't just a nightmare, at least not like any nightmare he's ever experienced, and the idea that something so torturous was running through Reid's mind is unbearable. Mostly because he hates the idea of anything bad falling upon the man sleeping next to him. And he hates that it's something he can't control. But more than anything, he's terrified that it wasn't the first time something like that has happened.
Its 4:58AM by the time Luke finally lets himself sleep, having kept a close watch on Reid for most of the night. He knows that Reid will be up in a few hours, showering and getting his breakfast ready before starting the day. And he wonders as he drifts off whether conscious Reid will know, whether he'll remember.
And he wonders how he'll ever be able to forget.
"Hey, get up." Reid's voice startles him, and he cracks open an eye to look at the clock beside the bed. 7:32AM.
"Good morning to you too." Luke grumbles, stretching and bending his limbs to shake out the sleep.
"What’s with you, you're normally up and dressed by now." Reid questions, a piece of toast in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
"Coffee? For me?" Luke questions, ignoring Reid's observations.
"Not even. This is mine. You know where it is." Reid says, kicking Luke in the foot in attempts to rouse him out of bed.
"Mmpfh." Luke grunts, rolling out of bed and pulling on some clothes.
"So what’s up, are you really that tired?" Reid asks as Luke stumbles into the kitchen, blindly reaching for a mug and the coffeepot.
"No, just didn't sleep well." Luke answers, truthfully. He's studying Reid carefully, as though if he looks hard enough he'll find the answers. But Reid is nothing if not well adept at a poker face, and Luke can't tell if Reid even knows the events that transpired the night before. So he takes a shot, and asks. "How did you sleep?"
"What?" Reid is confused, looking up from the paper and scratching at his head. "What do you mean?"
"It's a pretty simple question, Reid. How did you sleep?"
"Fine. I slept fine. That's just a strange question." Reid answers, and brushes the crumbs that are gathering at the bottom of his shirt. "Anyway, I've gotta get going. Lock up before you leave?" He asks, leaning down and kissing Luke gently. He's almost at the door to the before Luke speaks.
"You didn't, you know."
"I didn't what?" Reid asks, turning and watching Luke confusedly.
"Sleep fine."
"And you know this because?"
"Because I slept next to you. Because I woke up at midnight with you thrashing next to me and because I stayed up all night watching over you to make sure you were okay."
"You watched me while I slept? Okay, Snyder. That's creepy and that's gotta stop." Reid says, screwing his face up, unimpressed.
"Reid!" Luke sighs exasperatedly. "What’s with the nightmare?"
"What do you mean, what’s with it? It was a nightmare. It happened, it's happened before and it'll probably happen again. If you can't handle that then maybe you should stop staying over." Reid is agitated, scrunching his eyebrows together and pushing his hands into his pockets. But he's not making eye contact with Luke, and Luke knows there’s a reason for it.
"Bull. It's wasn't just a nightmare, that was the scariest thing I've ever seen." Luke says, speaking honestly. "What was it all about?"
"Does it matter what it was about, Luke? Is that going to make you feel better about the whole thing? Is it?"
"Don't get angry at me for caring. I just want to know what's up."
"Nothing, nothing is up. Everything is fine. Peachy, even." Reid bristles, shaking the feeling of discomfort from his shoulders and again walking towards the door. He hadn't even realised he'd gravitated closer and closer to Luke until they were almost arms lengths away.
"It isn't. Why do you do this?"
"Do what, Luke? Go to work? Because unlike some people I don't have a trust fund. I have to work to put food on the table."
"Oh shut up, that's not what this is about. I mean, why do you always push me away the second I get close to knowing something about you?" Luke asks, throwing his hands up in defeat and slumping into a chair.
"What do you want to know?" Reid asks, his patience wearing thin. "You want to know what my nightmare was about? You want to know about how sometimes I dream that I'm drowning, literally suffocating under the weight of everybody else’s expectations? You want to know how when I have these nightmares it's because I see all the patients I've lost, all the ones that I couldn't save, all the ones that I killed?"
"What? You've never -" Luke starts, but is interrupted by Reid's continued ranting.
"Why do you want to know? Because you want me to be even more damaged, so you can try to fix me? You can't fix me, Luke. I'm not a project. I told you, I'm not Noah - I don't need you to heal my daddy issues or smooth over my cracks about my identity. I'm just fricking fine, so if a little nightmare every now and then is enough to scare you off then you're not the man I thought you were."
Reid leaves, slamming the door forcefully behind him and Luke notices the mirrors shake with reverberation.
Luke doesn’t get much work done on Wednesday, and truthfully - neither does Reid. They’re both shaken by their conversation, and maybe for different reasons.
Luke is trying to understand, and he’s trying to brush off the feeling that Reid is pushing him away, but he knows that he can’t because it’s true. And Reid is trying to forget that it ever happened, while trying to suppress the guilt that he’s carrying because he knows his words hurt Luke, and he knows that it must have been scary. People have told him as much, and he knows that it’s driven more than one person away before.
And that’s not what he’s hoping for.
are you coming over tonight? - r
do you want me to?
always. 7. bring dinner. - r
Luke dutifully shows up at 6:59 with dinner in his hands and a sheepish look on his face. He isn’t sure what to expect when he pushes open the door to Reid’s apartment, but he knows he’s being juvenile. It’s not the first time they’ve fought, and it’s not likely to be the last.
“Reid?” He calls out into the living room, and when no answer calls back he puts dinner on the kitchen counter before going in search of Reid.
“Hey.” Luke says quietly, when he sees the door open to Reid’s office and a soft light glowing through.
“Oh, hey.” Reid turns in his chair towards Luke, his face noticeably more relaxed.
“What are you doing in here; I thought we were having dinner?”
“We are. I just wanted to show you something first.” Reid answers, and beckons Luke with a nod of his head. “C’mere.”
Luke enters Reid’s office hesitantly, having never really seen it in its entirety. Not because Reid is particularly secretive, but Luke just never really needed to see it. It’s nice, tasteful in its simplicity. Bookshelves are lined with what Luke can only assume are volumes and volumes of textbooks, and medical journals are stacked neatly in the corner. An ornate lamp sits in the corner of Reid’s desk, next to his laptop which is currently closed but the light emitting from underneath tells Luke that it’s charging.
Reid pushes his chair out from under the desk, and Luke unceremoniously dumps himself on Reid’s lap, earning a loud ‘oompfh’ from the older man and a smirk from the younger.
“What are you looking at?” Luke questions, turning his attention to the files on Reid’s desk.
“My nightmares.” Reid answers, and Luke is humbled by the honesty shining through his voice, despite the crackling.
“Talk to me?” Luke asks, and he knows it’s pathetic he should beg for it, but he wants to know. No, he needs to know.
“This is Annie’s file.” Reid says, picking up a stack of files and thumbing through them, with one arm wrapped around Luke.
“It’s thick.” Luke notes, taking it from Reid and feeling its weight in his hand. But he knows it’s not just the paper - it’s the weight that Reid is carrying on his shoulders, and has been for years.
“She was really sick.”
“I know.” Luke says, leaning back into Reid’s chest and sighing heavily. “What are all these other ones?”
“James Cooper. Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. He died six years ago this August. He was thirty four and had two sons, Ryan and Jeremy. All they wanted was for their dad to make it to their last baseball game. He died three weeks before.”
“I’m sorry.” Luke offers, understanding the enormity of the grief that Reid must feel on a daily basis. Not because he’s emotionally vested in his patients, but because he’s holding their life in his hands and when theres nothing that can be done, someone needs to take the blame. “It shouldn’t be you.”
“What shouldn’t be me?” Reid asks, and Luke realises that he’s voiced his thoughts.
“It shouldn’t be you who takes the blame.”
“Someone has to, Luke.”
“I don’t think that’s true. Awful things happen. They just do. And sometimes there are people you can blame - but sometimes awful things happen and theres nothing you can do about it, and theres no one to blame.”
“That’s just a cop out. That’s what they told us in med school, that we can’t accept responsibility for things out of our control.” Reid laments, shaking his head in disbelief. “I was naieve then, though. I know better now. Sometimes things are my fault.”
Luke stays silent, but wraps both arms around Reid and holds his head close to his chest. Just staying quiet, and letting the breath running through them be enough to say all he wants to. That it’s okay, for Reid to be human. That it’s okay, for them to be scared sometimes, and for them to be unsure. That despite how they feel sometimes, everything is going to be okay.
“This one is Emily. Brain stem glioma. Astrocytoma. I operated twice, but could never get it all.” Reid speaks softly, picking up another file and holding it gently between his fingers.
“Tell me about her.”
“She was beautiful.” Reid admits shyly, and his eyes glaze over slightly. “She had this amazing smile, kind of like Annie’s. But she was older. Her boyfriend had just proposed, and she spent hours in her hospital room pouring over wedding magazines looking for the perfect dress.”
“You helped her, didn’t you?” Luke smiles, and runs a hand through the back of Reid’s head, threading his fingers through his hair.
“Well she wanted a pink dress, I couldn’t let her embarrass herself!”
“What happened?” Luke asks quietly, as the giggles subside. “How long?”
“She made it to her wedding, and got six months after that.”
“You did that. You got her to her wedding, because of you she got to live out that fantasy.”
“I guess.” Reid admits, sighing and shrugging gently. “I just wish -”
“No, no more wishing. Enough wishing. You’re brilliant. You’re amazing. And none of these,” Luke gestures to the files scattered across the desk. “None of these are your fault. You did the best you could. You did better than the best you could. You cared about them, and the fact that you still care about them speaks volumes about the kind of person that you are.”
“I thought you thought I was a jerk?” Reid laughs, resting his head against Luke’s arm.
“You are. But you’re a jerk who needs to cut himself some slack.”
One by one, Reid picks files up off his desk and tells Luke about them. About the seven year old with a brain tumour who made Reid talk like Shrek, about the ninety year old who made it to her great, great grandson’s christening, about the twenty one year old who graduated college because Reid gave her enough time to do so.
By the time the desk was cleared of folders, Luke had cried. Twice. And he swears that he even saw a tear trickle from the side of Reid’s eye, though he knows that Reid would deny it.
“Do you feel any better?”
“Not really, but thanks for listening anyway.” Reid admits, kissing Luke gently.
“Bed?” Luke asks, standing up and pulling Reid towards him.
As they wander towards Reid’s bedroom, shucking clothes in the process, Reid doesn’t let go of Luke’s hand. And as they crawl into bed, he’s still clinging on and Luke still isn’t saying anything about it. He’s just about to turn off the light when Reid speaks.
“If you can’t handle the nightmares, I’ll understand.”
“I know. But I’m in this, Oliver. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. And if it happens again, it happens again. At least this time I know what I’m up against. We’ll get through it.”
“I guess I’m pretty lucky, then.” Reid says, pulling Luke towards him and inhaling the distinct scent that always hits him right at his core.
“Luck has nothing to do with it. You deserve to be loved if only for the fact that you make it possible for others to love a little longer. You deserve to be loved, Reid.”
When Luke doesn’t hear a reply, he turns over gently and sees that Reid has fallen asleep, his breath evening out and the crease lines in his forehead dissipating.
Just before joining Reid in sleep, Luke has a final thought.
Maybe I’m the lucky one.
author: inflowers
summary: By the time the desk was cleared of folders, Luke had cried. Twice. And he swears that he even saw a tear trickle from the side of Reid’s eye, though he knows that Reid would deny it.
authors notes: you know i'm a sucker for a bit of angst. but this one is kind of hopeful too, i hope.
It's a Tuesday.
Luke always remembers that the first time it happened, it was a Tuesday.
Because Tuesdays are his favourite day of the week. He finishes work early, and Reid never schedules consults after lunch so they both have the afternoon free. And despite all good intentions, to see movies and have early dinners and spend time doing nice, traditional couple things, they always, always spend Tuesday afternoons curled up in bed.
Which he how he always remembers that it was a Tuesday.
It's almost midnight when Luke wakes with a start, a leg having kicked him hard in the back and almost catapulted him from bed.
"What the f-" He starts, rubbing his back and reminding himself to be quiet because Reid is still sleeping.
Except that he's not really sleeping.
Reid's body is contorted and it's twisting, tangling itself up in the sheets. There's anguish painted across his face, and sweat pouring from his brow. Luke can't tell whether he's awake or not, but he knows that something isn't right.
"Reid?" He asks quietly, moving slowly to get out of bed. He's overcome with an urge, but he's not sure whether it's an urge to run or to reach out and touch him. "Are you okay?"
Reid doesn't respond.
His body tenses and his muscles are rigid, limbs like metal rods. His face is still squeezed tightly together, as though he's not letting himself open his eyes. There's a red flush creeping all over his body, like poison ivy and Luke can see it deepen as the crack in the blinds lets the moonlight through.
He's moaning, but it's nothing like Luke has ever heard before. It's not a moan of pleasure, or happiness. It's guttural and horrifying, like someone reaching in and grabbing hold of the noise and tearing it from Reid's lips.
And then, as quickly as it started, it stops.
Reid's body relaxes and settles back into the sheets, unaware of the dampness the sweat has caused. His face calms instantly, his eyes letting go of the tension and easing back to a natural and peaceful look. Reid's breathing returns to normal, and he even sighs contentedly, seemingly drifting back into a deep and satisfying sleep.
But Luke is wide awake. Sitting up against the headboard, he's glancing at Reid every few seconds, unsure of whether to wake him or let him sleep. He doesn't know what happened, and if he's being honest, he's terrified. He's terrified of it happening again, but more than that he's scared of what it means. He knows it wasn't just a nightmare, at least not like any nightmare he's ever experienced, and the idea that something so torturous was running through Reid's mind is unbearable. Mostly because he hates the idea of anything bad falling upon the man sleeping next to him. And he hates that it's something he can't control. But more than anything, he's terrified that it wasn't the first time something like that has happened.
Its 4:58AM by the time Luke finally lets himself sleep, having kept a close watch on Reid for most of the night. He knows that Reid will be up in a few hours, showering and getting his breakfast ready before starting the day. And he wonders as he drifts off whether conscious Reid will know, whether he'll remember.
And he wonders how he'll ever be able to forget.
"Hey, get up." Reid's voice startles him, and he cracks open an eye to look at the clock beside the bed. 7:32AM.
"Good morning to you too." Luke grumbles, stretching and bending his limbs to shake out the sleep.
"What’s with you, you're normally up and dressed by now." Reid questions, a piece of toast in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
"Coffee? For me?" Luke questions, ignoring Reid's observations.
"Not even. This is mine. You know where it is." Reid says, kicking Luke in the foot in attempts to rouse him out of bed.
"Mmpfh." Luke grunts, rolling out of bed and pulling on some clothes.
"So what’s up, are you really that tired?" Reid asks as Luke stumbles into the kitchen, blindly reaching for a mug and the coffeepot.
"No, just didn't sleep well." Luke answers, truthfully. He's studying Reid carefully, as though if he looks hard enough he'll find the answers. But Reid is nothing if not well adept at a poker face, and Luke can't tell if Reid even knows the events that transpired the night before. So he takes a shot, and asks. "How did you sleep?"
"What?" Reid is confused, looking up from the paper and scratching at his head. "What do you mean?"
"It's a pretty simple question, Reid. How did you sleep?"
"Fine. I slept fine. That's just a strange question." Reid answers, and brushes the crumbs that are gathering at the bottom of his shirt. "Anyway, I've gotta get going. Lock up before you leave?" He asks, leaning down and kissing Luke gently. He's almost at the door to the before Luke speaks.
"You didn't, you know."
"I didn't what?" Reid asks, turning and watching Luke confusedly.
"Sleep fine."
"And you know this because?"
"Because I slept next to you. Because I woke up at midnight with you thrashing next to me and because I stayed up all night watching over you to make sure you were okay."
"You watched me while I slept? Okay, Snyder. That's creepy and that's gotta stop." Reid says, screwing his face up, unimpressed.
"Reid!" Luke sighs exasperatedly. "What’s with the nightmare?"
"What do you mean, what’s with it? It was a nightmare. It happened, it's happened before and it'll probably happen again. If you can't handle that then maybe you should stop staying over." Reid is agitated, scrunching his eyebrows together and pushing his hands into his pockets. But he's not making eye contact with Luke, and Luke knows there’s a reason for it.
"Bull. It's wasn't just a nightmare, that was the scariest thing I've ever seen." Luke says, speaking honestly. "What was it all about?"
"Does it matter what it was about, Luke? Is that going to make you feel better about the whole thing? Is it?"
"Don't get angry at me for caring. I just want to know what's up."
"Nothing, nothing is up. Everything is fine. Peachy, even." Reid bristles, shaking the feeling of discomfort from his shoulders and again walking towards the door. He hadn't even realised he'd gravitated closer and closer to Luke until they were almost arms lengths away.
"It isn't. Why do you do this?"
"Do what, Luke? Go to work? Because unlike some people I don't have a trust fund. I have to work to put food on the table."
"Oh shut up, that's not what this is about. I mean, why do you always push me away the second I get close to knowing something about you?" Luke asks, throwing his hands up in defeat and slumping into a chair.
"What do you want to know?" Reid asks, his patience wearing thin. "You want to know what my nightmare was about? You want to know about how sometimes I dream that I'm drowning, literally suffocating under the weight of everybody else’s expectations? You want to know how when I have these nightmares it's because I see all the patients I've lost, all the ones that I couldn't save, all the ones that I killed?"
"What? You've never -" Luke starts, but is interrupted by Reid's continued ranting.
"Why do you want to know? Because you want me to be even more damaged, so you can try to fix me? You can't fix me, Luke. I'm not a project. I told you, I'm not Noah - I don't need you to heal my daddy issues or smooth over my cracks about my identity. I'm just fricking fine, so if a little nightmare every now and then is enough to scare you off then you're not the man I thought you were."
Reid leaves, slamming the door forcefully behind him and Luke notices the mirrors shake with reverberation.
Luke doesn’t get much work done on Wednesday, and truthfully - neither does Reid. They’re both shaken by their conversation, and maybe for different reasons.
Luke is trying to understand, and he’s trying to brush off the feeling that Reid is pushing him away, but he knows that he can’t because it’s true. And Reid is trying to forget that it ever happened, while trying to suppress the guilt that he’s carrying because he knows his words hurt Luke, and he knows that it must have been scary. People have told him as much, and he knows that it’s driven more than one person away before.
And that’s not what he’s hoping for.
are you coming over tonight? - r
do you want me to?
always. 7. bring dinner. - r
Luke dutifully shows up at 6:59 with dinner in his hands and a sheepish look on his face. He isn’t sure what to expect when he pushes open the door to Reid’s apartment, but he knows he’s being juvenile. It’s not the first time they’ve fought, and it’s not likely to be the last.
“Reid?” He calls out into the living room, and when no answer calls back he puts dinner on the kitchen counter before going in search of Reid.
“Hey.” Luke says quietly, when he sees the door open to Reid’s office and a soft light glowing through.
“Oh, hey.” Reid turns in his chair towards Luke, his face noticeably more relaxed.
“What are you doing in here; I thought we were having dinner?”
“We are. I just wanted to show you something first.” Reid answers, and beckons Luke with a nod of his head. “C’mere.”
Luke enters Reid’s office hesitantly, having never really seen it in its entirety. Not because Reid is particularly secretive, but Luke just never really needed to see it. It’s nice, tasteful in its simplicity. Bookshelves are lined with what Luke can only assume are volumes and volumes of textbooks, and medical journals are stacked neatly in the corner. An ornate lamp sits in the corner of Reid’s desk, next to his laptop which is currently closed but the light emitting from underneath tells Luke that it’s charging.
Reid pushes his chair out from under the desk, and Luke unceremoniously dumps himself on Reid’s lap, earning a loud ‘oompfh’ from the older man and a smirk from the younger.
“What are you looking at?” Luke questions, turning his attention to the files on Reid’s desk.
“My nightmares.” Reid answers, and Luke is humbled by the honesty shining through his voice, despite the crackling.
“Talk to me?” Luke asks, and he knows it’s pathetic he should beg for it, but he wants to know. No, he needs to know.
“This is Annie’s file.” Reid says, picking up a stack of files and thumbing through them, with one arm wrapped around Luke.
“It’s thick.” Luke notes, taking it from Reid and feeling its weight in his hand. But he knows it’s not just the paper - it’s the weight that Reid is carrying on his shoulders, and has been for years.
“She was really sick.”
“I know.” Luke says, leaning back into Reid’s chest and sighing heavily. “What are all these other ones?”
“James Cooper. Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. He died six years ago this August. He was thirty four and had two sons, Ryan and Jeremy. All they wanted was for their dad to make it to their last baseball game. He died three weeks before.”
“I’m sorry.” Luke offers, understanding the enormity of the grief that Reid must feel on a daily basis. Not because he’s emotionally vested in his patients, but because he’s holding their life in his hands and when theres nothing that can be done, someone needs to take the blame. “It shouldn’t be you.”
“What shouldn’t be me?” Reid asks, and Luke realises that he’s voiced his thoughts.
“It shouldn’t be you who takes the blame.”
“Someone has to, Luke.”
“I don’t think that’s true. Awful things happen. They just do. And sometimes there are people you can blame - but sometimes awful things happen and theres nothing you can do about it, and theres no one to blame.”
“That’s just a cop out. That’s what they told us in med school, that we can’t accept responsibility for things out of our control.” Reid laments, shaking his head in disbelief. “I was naieve then, though. I know better now. Sometimes things are my fault.”
Luke stays silent, but wraps both arms around Reid and holds his head close to his chest. Just staying quiet, and letting the breath running through them be enough to say all he wants to. That it’s okay, for Reid to be human. That it’s okay, for them to be scared sometimes, and for them to be unsure. That despite how they feel sometimes, everything is going to be okay.
“This one is Emily. Brain stem glioma. Astrocytoma. I operated twice, but could never get it all.” Reid speaks softly, picking up another file and holding it gently between his fingers.
“Tell me about her.”
“She was beautiful.” Reid admits shyly, and his eyes glaze over slightly. “She had this amazing smile, kind of like Annie’s. But she was older. Her boyfriend had just proposed, and she spent hours in her hospital room pouring over wedding magazines looking for the perfect dress.”
“You helped her, didn’t you?” Luke smiles, and runs a hand through the back of Reid’s head, threading his fingers through his hair.
“Well she wanted a pink dress, I couldn’t let her embarrass herself!”
“What happened?” Luke asks quietly, as the giggles subside. “How long?”
“She made it to her wedding, and got six months after that.”
“You did that. You got her to her wedding, because of you she got to live out that fantasy.”
“I guess.” Reid admits, sighing and shrugging gently. “I just wish -”
“No, no more wishing. Enough wishing. You’re brilliant. You’re amazing. And none of these,” Luke gestures to the files scattered across the desk. “None of these are your fault. You did the best you could. You did better than the best you could. You cared about them, and the fact that you still care about them speaks volumes about the kind of person that you are.”
“I thought you thought I was a jerk?” Reid laughs, resting his head against Luke’s arm.
“You are. But you’re a jerk who needs to cut himself some slack.”
One by one, Reid picks files up off his desk and tells Luke about them. About the seven year old with a brain tumour who made Reid talk like Shrek, about the ninety year old who made it to her great, great grandson’s christening, about the twenty one year old who graduated college because Reid gave her enough time to do so.
By the time the desk was cleared of folders, Luke had cried. Twice. And he swears that he even saw a tear trickle from the side of Reid’s eye, though he knows that Reid would deny it.
“Do you feel any better?”
“Not really, but thanks for listening anyway.” Reid admits, kissing Luke gently.
“Bed?” Luke asks, standing up and pulling Reid towards him.
As they wander towards Reid’s bedroom, shucking clothes in the process, Reid doesn’t let go of Luke’s hand. And as they crawl into bed, he’s still clinging on and Luke still isn’t saying anything about it. He’s just about to turn off the light when Reid speaks.
“If you can’t handle the nightmares, I’ll understand.”
“I know. But I’m in this, Oliver. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. And if it happens again, it happens again. At least this time I know what I’m up against. We’ll get through it.”
“I guess I’m pretty lucky, then.” Reid says, pulling Luke towards him and inhaling the distinct scent that always hits him right at his core.
“Luck has nothing to do with it. You deserve to be loved if only for the fact that you make it possible for others to love a little longer. You deserve to be loved, Reid.”
When Luke doesn’t hear a reply, he turns over gently and sees that Reid has fallen asleep, his breath evening out and the crease lines in his forehead dissipating.
Just before joining Reid in sleep, Luke has a final thought.
Maybe I’m the lucky one.