Fic: Light
Title: Light
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers for end of show. Don't read if you don't want to know.
Summary: Luke's dreaming. And then he wakes up.
Disclaimer: I own no part of CBS, ATWT, it's characters or it's property.
Warnings: Pretty dark. And sad.
A/N: I don't know where this came from. I just... I don't know.
Light
“If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning.”
- C.S. Lewis -
Luke sat facing an empty chair.
An empty chair at an empty table in an empty room.
It was a large room, round and cavernous. It was wallpapered elegantly, wall sconces and beautiful art interspersed the entire way round.
Idly he noticed that green grass grew where a floor should be. It was soft on Luke’s feet as he sat at the table by himself. The feeling reminded him of summers at the farm, of picnics and trail rides and camping by the river when he was eleven.
It was warm there, wherever there was. Luke lifted his face towards the roof… but there wasn’t one. Bright blue sky was broken up by cumulus clouds that drifted and sailed gently across the panoramic view.
It was warm, so warm and Luke was tired, so tired. He looked out at the large expanse of emerald green and wanted to curl up and go to sleep.
It looked so inviting and he could barely keep his eyes open. He stood up.
Or, he tried to.
His legs wouldn’t move.
He tried again.
His lower body, from his belly button down to his toes sat rigid and cement-heavy in the chair.
Luke looked down, gripped his hands into his useless thighs until his fingers cramped.
He was in his wheelchair again, he realized. The wheels rose subtly at each side to trap him and the metal was cool on his fingertips while the rubber treads gripped against his palms when he hesitantly settled his hands over the rims.
It was familiar, but oh so wrong. Like a pair of shoes that fit, but pinched in the toe. You could live with them, but there was a constant reminder that something wasn’t right.
He took a deep breath, then another. He felt his stomach churching, his throat tightening and his eyes stinging with oncoming tears.
It was an old nightmare, one he’d had plenty of times before. Nights when his legs were achy and cramping after a long day, or when his visits and waits at the hospital became too numerous for his psyche to handle.
So Luke breathed through the threat of tears, confident that he would wake up and the nightmare would be over. He’d wake up, get out of bed and go on with the rest of his ordinary day.
But when he raised his head and looked around, the scene had changed.
He was still in his wheelchair but the table was gone. The ground was mud. Acres and acres of soupy, slick mud.
Thunder rumbled overhead and Luke glanced up to see roiling, convulsing green and yellow sky.
Wind started to whip at his face and hair, dragging icy fingers down the back of his neck.
The room was gone, the light leaking away in the same circular pattern as the missing walls creating an illusion of surroundings.
It bled away on the grass, ghostly footprints running away wherever Luke looked.
He tried to move his chair, to wheel it forward or back, turn one way or the other. The wheels slipped under his hands, the rough treads of the rubber biting into his hands.
When he pushed forward, the wheels rolled back. When he pushed back, they rolled forward,
He huffed in frustration. Then slammed his hands, open palmed, on the wheels. The sting was a welcome pain.
He looked up, across the field of mud. Where was he?
Somehow he’d moved to one side, one end of the now oblong shape. He knew the darkness was at his back. Could feel it breathing in heavy, wet, gurgling gasps. He didn’t dare look behind him, didn’t dare look into the unknown. Into the ugly darkness hungering to fester inside him.
So he concentrated on what was in front of him, which was dimly illuminated by flashes of silent lightening. The thickly viscous brown earth and tumultuous sky.
And in the distance, someone was walking. Pacing perpendicular to Luke, left and right. He looked, leaned forward, concentrated.
The person was moving quickly, head down.
Back and forth. Three steps one way, four the other.
But after a few rounds everything would balance out and they would start from center again, directly in front of Luke. It was hypnotic, the movement against a backdrop of darkness, of nothingness.
It was the only movement in the world. Luke closed his eyes.
When he opened them… a second, a minute, an hour, a day later… the person was closer. Luke could see them clearly. The back of them. The gait, the hair, the build. It was a familiar and comforting figure, but Luke couldn’t come up with the name.
He flipped through memories, saw laughter and smiles and tears and frowns. Love and blushes and hugs and kisses.
And pain and suffering and torment and loss.
It was the latter that cued something in him.
He remembered as the figure turned toward him.
“Reid!” He gasped.
There was blood on his face. On his beautiful face. Smeared against the pale skin and dripping onto the white cloth below. It was almost beautiful, the bright splashes of color against the absence of such.
Reid was looking above Luke, over his head. His eyes were watchful… waiting. He was searching for something… someone.
Luke opened his mouth, spoke words and freed them into the air.
“Reid! I’m here!”
Reid didn’t react. Didn’t move, except to blink once.
Luke spoke again, voicing urgent sentiments and cautious warnings.
No response. A bright light flashed behind Reid, silhouetting his shoulders and torso as it illuminated behind him.
Luke felt urgency, felt danger. Unknown but immediate. He looked down to try and free his legs, pulling at the limbs to drag them off the footrests. He couldn’t move them. He noticed tracks laid out in front of him, wooden ties and metal rails solid under his wheels. They led forward, to Reid, whom Luke could now see was walking toward him.
The light behind him flashed, bright enough to make Luke shut his eyes again.
When he opened them this time, Reid was closer. He could see his expression, the intent eyes and relieved smile on his face.
Of course. He’d been looking for Luke. He’d been searching for him. Luke sighed with his own relief, starting to wheel towards him. He could move freely now, could glide forward with just a touch.
A whistle sounded, shrill in the still air. It shivered down Luke’s spine.
Reid kept walking. Luke went forward but the distance between them seemed to remain the same. He moved again, faster and further this time but Reid still remained just out of reach.
Another whistle, another blast of light that came closer and closer.
Closer and closer to Reid.
Until it was right behind him.
And then… and then it was him. Reid was the light. And he was finally, finally moving towards Luke.
Luke reached out, fingertips brushing warm skin and comforting fingertips ghosting across his cheek.
And then Reid was pulling away again, smiling sadly as his feet lifted off of the ground.
Another whistle sounded and it didn’t stop. It grew louder and louder, crowding out everything else in Luke’s head until Reid began to fade.
“No!” Luke cried, reaching out from his chair, reaching up towards his last glimpse of Reid.
“Don’t go! Don’t leave me!”
Reid smiled, a final burst of light so bright that Luke had to close his eyes.
When he opened them again, there was madness.
The whistle continued to ring, a monitor alarm signaling wrong, wrong.
Luke still gripped the hand of the still figure in the hospital bed, the fingers lax and limp in his grasp.
Bodies moved around him, reaching over him and working in front of him.
Hands pulled him up from his chair and he stood on strong legs, stood as an island of calm in the sea of insanity.
He took a moment, gently placed the hand he held back on the bed, and stepped away with a shuddering breath.
And took another step back, and then another.
When he finally turned away and stepped out into the hospital hallway, there were people there. Random faces and expressions that he couldn’t decipher. Hands reached out for him, but instinctively fell at the expression of desolate sadness in his eyes.
Comfort wouldn’t be taken here. Solace couldn’t be given.
Before he walked away, with alarms and frantic shouts barely registering behind him… he said one thing.
“He’s gone now.”
*Fin*
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers for end of show. Don't read if you don't want to know.
Summary: Luke's dreaming. And then he wakes up.
Disclaimer: I own no part of CBS, ATWT, it's characters or it's property.
Warnings: Pretty dark. And sad.
A/N: I don't know where this came from. I just... I don't know.
Light
“If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning.”
- C.S. Lewis -
Luke sat facing an empty chair.
An empty chair at an empty table in an empty room.
It was a large room, round and cavernous. It was wallpapered elegantly, wall sconces and beautiful art interspersed the entire way round.
Idly he noticed that green grass grew where a floor should be. It was soft on Luke’s feet as he sat at the table by himself. The feeling reminded him of summers at the farm, of picnics and trail rides and camping by the river when he was eleven.
It was warm there, wherever there was. Luke lifted his face towards the roof… but there wasn’t one. Bright blue sky was broken up by cumulus clouds that drifted and sailed gently across the panoramic view.
It was warm, so warm and Luke was tired, so tired. He looked out at the large expanse of emerald green and wanted to curl up and go to sleep.
It looked so inviting and he could barely keep his eyes open. He stood up.
Or, he tried to.
His legs wouldn’t move.
He tried again.
His lower body, from his belly button down to his toes sat rigid and cement-heavy in the chair.
Luke looked down, gripped his hands into his useless thighs until his fingers cramped.
He was in his wheelchair again, he realized. The wheels rose subtly at each side to trap him and the metal was cool on his fingertips while the rubber treads gripped against his palms when he hesitantly settled his hands over the rims.
It was familiar, but oh so wrong. Like a pair of shoes that fit, but pinched in the toe. You could live with them, but there was a constant reminder that something wasn’t right.
He took a deep breath, then another. He felt his stomach churching, his throat tightening and his eyes stinging with oncoming tears.
It was an old nightmare, one he’d had plenty of times before. Nights when his legs were achy and cramping after a long day, or when his visits and waits at the hospital became too numerous for his psyche to handle.
So Luke breathed through the threat of tears, confident that he would wake up and the nightmare would be over. He’d wake up, get out of bed and go on with the rest of his ordinary day.
But when he raised his head and looked around, the scene had changed.
He was still in his wheelchair but the table was gone. The ground was mud. Acres and acres of soupy, slick mud.
Thunder rumbled overhead and Luke glanced up to see roiling, convulsing green and yellow sky.
Wind started to whip at his face and hair, dragging icy fingers down the back of his neck.
The room was gone, the light leaking away in the same circular pattern as the missing walls creating an illusion of surroundings.
It bled away on the grass, ghostly footprints running away wherever Luke looked.
He tried to move his chair, to wheel it forward or back, turn one way or the other. The wheels slipped under his hands, the rough treads of the rubber biting into his hands.
When he pushed forward, the wheels rolled back. When he pushed back, they rolled forward,
He huffed in frustration. Then slammed his hands, open palmed, on the wheels. The sting was a welcome pain.
He looked up, across the field of mud. Where was he?
Somehow he’d moved to one side, one end of the now oblong shape. He knew the darkness was at his back. Could feel it breathing in heavy, wet, gurgling gasps. He didn’t dare look behind him, didn’t dare look into the unknown. Into the ugly darkness hungering to fester inside him.
So he concentrated on what was in front of him, which was dimly illuminated by flashes of silent lightening. The thickly viscous brown earth and tumultuous sky.
And in the distance, someone was walking. Pacing perpendicular to Luke, left and right. He looked, leaned forward, concentrated.
The person was moving quickly, head down.
Back and forth. Three steps one way, four the other.
But after a few rounds everything would balance out and they would start from center again, directly in front of Luke. It was hypnotic, the movement against a backdrop of darkness, of nothingness.
It was the only movement in the world. Luke closed his eyes.
When he opened them… a second, a minute, an hour, a day later… the person was closer. Luke could see them clearly. The back of them. The gait, the hair, the build. It was a familiar and comforting figure, but Luke couldn’t come up with the name.
He flipped through memories, saw laughter and smiles and tears and frowns. Love and blushes and hugs and kisses.
And pain and suffering and torment and loss.
It was the latter that cued something in him.
He remembered as the figure turned toward him.
“Reid!” He gasped.
There was blood on his face. On his beautiful face. Smeared against the pale skin and dripping onto the white cloth below. It was almost beautiful, the bright splashes of color against the absence of such.
Reid was looking above Luke, over his head. His eyes were watchful… waiting. He was searching for something… someone.
Luke opened his mouth, spoke words and freed them into the air.
“Reid! I’m here!”
Reid didn’t react. Didn’t move, except to blink once.
Luke spoke again, voicing urgent sentiments and cautious warnings.
No response. A bright light flashed behind Reid, silhouetting his shoulders and torso as it illuminated behind him.
Luke felt urgency, felt danger. Unknown but immediate. He looked down to try and free his legs, pulling at the limbs to drag them off the footrests. He couldn’t move them. He noticed tracks laid out in front of him, wooden ties and metal rails solid under his wheels. They led forward, to Reid, whom Luke could now see was walking toward him.
The light behind him flashed, bright enough to make Luke shut his eyes again.
When he opened them this time, Reid was closer. He could see his expression, the intent eyes and relieved smile on his face.
Of course. He’d been looking for Luke. He’d been searching for him. Luke sighed with his own relief, starting to wheel towards him. He could move freely now, could glide forward with just a touch.
A whistle sounded, shrill in the still air. It shivered down Luke’s spine.
Reid kept walking. Luke went forward but the distance between them seemed to remain the same. He moved again, faster and further this time but Reid still remained just out of reach.
Another whistle, another blast of light that came closer and closer.
Closer and closer to Reid.
Until it was right behind him.
And then… and then it was him. Reid was the light. And he was finally, finally moving towards Luke.
Luke reached out, fingertips brushing warm skin and comforting fingertips ghosting across his cheek.
And then Reid was pulling away again, smiling sadly as his feet lifted off of the ground.
Another whistle sounded and it didn’t stop. It grew louder and louder, crowding out everything else in Luke’s head until Reid began to fade.
“No!” Luke cried, reaching out from his chair, reaching up towards his last glimpse of Reid.
“Don’t go! Don’t leave me!”
Reid smiled, a final burst of light so bright that Luke had to close his eyes.
When he opened them again, there was madness.
The whistle continued to ring, a monitor alarm signaling wrong, wrong.
Luke still gripped the hand of the still figure in the hospital bed, the fingers lax and limp in his grasp.
Bodies moved around him, reaching over him and working in front of him.
Hands pulled him up from his chair and he stood on strong legs, stood as an island of calm in the sea of insanity.
He took a moment, gently placed the hand he held back on the bed, and stepped away with a shuddering breath.
And took another step back, and then another.
When he finally turned away and stepped out into the hospital hallway, there were people there. Random faces and expressions that he couldn’t decipher. Hands reached out for him, but instinctively fell at the expression of desolate sadness in his eyes.
Comfort wouldn’t be taken here. Solace couldn’t be given.
Before he walked away, with alarms and frantic shouts barely registering behind him… he said one thing.
“He’s gone now.”
*Fin*