FIC: CALAMITY 1/1
Title: Calamity
Author: carolinablu85
Chapter: One-shot (Companion fic to " Comfort" " Confrontation" and " Castaway")
Characters: Holden, drunk!Noah, some Casey/Ali at the end, references to Luke and other characters
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: takes place the night after Holden's almost-wedding to Molly
Summary: "We tell our triumphs to the crowds, but our own hearts are the sole confidants of our sorrows." -Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton
Disclaimer: I disclaim. I own a pair of sneakers, a cell phone, and some other stuff. The show? Nope, not that.
A/N: Yet another crazy rant-y one-shot! And this time Luke's not the target- I'm taking on the whole Snyder clan. Bring it.
Holden had decided to drive to Old Town and take this walk to clear his mind, distract himself from the million and one thoughts in his head. Molly and Lily and weddings and arguments and slammed doors and, and, and. He just needed something to take his mind off of all that.
Never in his life did he think that that distraction would come in the form a six-foot-two young man walking… unsteadily?... in his direction. Holden started to rush forward, worried, but it took a few steps for him to realize Noah wasn’t hurt or sick.
He was drunk.
Holden slowed down to a walk, taking time to study Noah. Even as obviously intoxicated as he was, he still looked neatly put-together. Sneakers, jeans, a t-shirt and short-sleeved plaid shirt over it… It wasn’t until Holden’s eyes reached his face that he knew something was wrong with the kid. There was grief, pain, confusion, anger… a lot of the things Holden was feeling now too.
Noah was heading from the direction of Yo’s towards the parking lot nearby. And when Holden saw the keys in Noah’s hands, he had to make his presence known. “Hey, Noah.”
Noah turned, startled, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He dropped his keys to the ground, and Holden quickly reached down to pick them up. When he straightened, Noah was looking off to the side, biting his lip. “Um, hey.”
His words were half-slurred, and Holden frowned, holding on tighter to the keys. “How are you?”
Noah kept his gaze away from him. “Fine. Tired. I, um, I should go now. Have to.”
“Noah…” Holden followed him when he turned again, back to his intended destination. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”
“I don’t know,” Noah shrugged, still not looking at him. “Somewhere between a lot and not enough.”
Holden wanted to laugh at the joke, but sadness outweighed the humor. “What are you doing now?”
“I’m parked over there,” he pointed in a general direction, his hand never staying still longer enough to fix on a specific vehicle.
“You’re not driving,” Holden said it firmly, in the Dad-tone he used that didn’t allow any arguments.
But Noah- Noah of all people- tried. “You can’t stop me,” he muttered, as close to snapping at him as Holden had ever heard. “Can’t tell me what to-”
“I have your keys, son,” Holden held them up a little, making sure to keep them out of reach.
Noah’s eyes flashed at that, Holden wasn’t sure why. He watched as Noah glared at the keys and then sighed, resting back against his truck. “Wasn’t going to drive, I’m not stupid,” he kept his head down. “Just get inside and sleep it off for awhile.” He kicked at a piece of gravel lying at his feet. “I’m not stupid.”
“Okay,” Holden said carefully. There was definitely something pent-up in Noah’s voice, in the tense way he held his body. “Noah, what’s wr-”
“Can I have my keys back?” he cut Holden off, then quickly added a very Noah-like, “Please?”
“You swear you weren’t about to drive?” Holden asked, eyes narrowed.
Noah didn’t answer right away, but for some reason Holden sensed it wasn’t because he was lying. “I’ve done this before.”
“What?” Holden was thrown. “Done what?”
God, he still wouldn’t look at Holden. “This,” he gestured towards the truck. “Like 3 or 4 times. Gotten drunk, gotten in my truck. No one’s ever tried to stop me before.” He tilted his head back, staring up at the sky. “What does that say about me?”
Holden stared, the reality behind those words hitting him hard. “Noah,” he spoke softly now. “Let me give you a ride, okay?”
Noah kept his eyes upwards, tracing constellations in the sky. After another moment he blew out a breath heavily and nodded, pushing himself away from the car unsteadily. Holden immediately reached out to brace him, and then just as quickly pulled back when Noah flinched away from him. They walked in silence to the car, side by side, Holden uncomfortably unsure of what to do.
He was a dad. He was supposed to be able to fix this.
The silence continued when they got inside, when they pulled out of the parking lot. It was a full five minutes before Noah- leaning his head to the side against the window- spoke again. “I’m leaving Oakdale.”
Holden’s eyes widened, and he just barely managed to keep his foot from sliding off the gas pedal. Well, he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. “You’re what?”
Noah sat up a little straighter, looking out the window. “I got a grant to make a new film. In LA. I’m leaving.” His voice stayed cool, monotone.
Holden took his eyes off the road just long enough to see Noah swallow hard, his hands curling into fists. He shook his head. “Well, on the one hand that’s really great, and I’m proud of you, Noah. But I am sorry you’re leaving. I’ve… I’ve always liked having you around.”
He didn’t expect Noah to react to that, but he did. “When exactly have I ‘been around’ you lately?” he asked with a skeptical snort.
Holden didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know where all this anger was coming from. But he could hazard a guess. “Have you told Luke about-”
“Doesn’t matter,” he cut off Holden again.
Holden took that as a ‘no.’ He took a deep breath, keeping his tone unassuming. “Look, Noah, just because you and Luke aren’t together for right now, it doesn’t mean you can’t still be a part of each other’s lives. And if you ever want to talk, I know a little something about getting fed up with love and all that. I haven’t exactly been going through an easy time myself, so if you need-”
“Pull over.” Noah’s voice was tight, coming through gritted teeth.
“Noah?” Holden glanced over at him again.
“Please. Pull. Over,” Noah was holding onto the door handle, like he was going to jump out any second whether Holden pulled over or not.
Afraid he was about to be sick, Holden quickly complied, pulling to the side of the country road between Old Town and Noah’s apartment complex. He had just turned the car off when Noah shoved his door open.
And started walking away.
Holden frowned for half a second- nothing about tonight was turning out the way he expected- but then quickly scrambled out of the car after him. “Noah!”
“I’ll walk the rest of the way,” he didn’t even turn around to look at Holden.
Holden finally caught up with him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what’s-”
Noah whirled around, nearly falling over in the process, and threw his hands up defensively. “Don’t! Just- just stop.”
He finally looked straight at him, and Holden had to step back at the pure fire in his eyes. Flames are always hottest- more dangerous- when they’re blue, he idly reminded himself. “Stop what?”
Noah shook his head. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are? You have this family, and you have… have two people who love you that much, love you so much they don’t care that someone else is going to get hurt over it. How can you possibly think I can relate to that?”
For a second Holden could only stare. Noah had never spoken to him this way before. He was fairly confident Noah had never spoken to anyone of authority this way before, except maybe his father. “Why did you drink tonight, Noah?” he asked quietly, hoping to get to the root of all this (and the focus off him).
He was surprised when Noah scoffed at him. “Why do you want to know? What does it matter?”
Holden hated the look on his face. It wasn’t even that look he used to always have, like he just can’t believe Holden cares about him. This one was a look of refusing to believe. “Because you’re upset, son. And I want to help.”
Noah's hands were still up, but more for balance than protection. "I'm not your son. I'm not a part of your family. Stop saying that I am."
The slur of his voice was still there, but Holden couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or from reigning in emotion. "You are."
"No!" Noah shouted, taking another step away, before frowning and lowering his voice. "I don't get to come over for dinner anymore," he pointed out. "I didn't get to come to one barbeque this summer. I didn't get invited to your wedding. No one was there for my surgery. And you know what? It's okay. I'm fine with it. You don't have to pretend anymore."
"God, kid, I didn't-" Shit. Holden hadn't even...
Noah shrugged unsteadily. "It's okay. I get it. And I'm fine. You wanted me to think you were different, but you- all of you- are just the same. Family isn't some wonderful, beautiful thing. Can't count on it. I've always known that. And Snyders are no different, don't know why I thought you would be." He looked off to the side, down the dusty, deserted road. "Mission not-accomplished, but whatever. I don't want to try anymore."
"Noah, I swear, I'm so sorry," Holden tried to take a step closer without Noah noticing, still wanting to be with arm's reach in case he did fall over. "Life's been a little crazy lately, but I mean it, I- none of us- ever meant to cut you out of our lives."
Noah's eyes lit up bright once again with anger, direct anger Holden had rarely ever seen in him before. "Well, it doesn't matter now. Because you did, and it's done. And I'm leaving, so... so..." he choked for just a second before continuing. "You can go back home to your real family, and you can welcome in Luke's new boyfriend and let him stay at the farm and go to weddings and cut the Hubbard squash and let him be happy. Because I'm done." He turned back to the road, clenching his jaw. "I'm gonna walk from here. I don't want a ride anymore. You can go."
Holden stood still, silent. He had the feeling he wasn’t going to be able to convince Noah otherwise, and that hurt more than a little. He couldn’t imagine the look on his mother’s face when (if?) he told her about this. Damn it… He shook his head then, and did the only thing he could. “I’m sorry,” he said. “At least let me get you home, okay? Please?”
“It’s not home,” Noah murmured. “It’s just an apartment.” Holden was afraid that meant he was refusing, but a few seconds later Noah turned and walked past him, heading back to the car.
Once they were back on the road, Holden broke the silence again, somewhat afraid Noah would sink too far into it, disappear, otherwise. “When are you leaving?”
“September,” his voice broke on the word. “Starting over again, a new life.” A painful, dark smile on his face. “Done that thirteen… fourteen times already. All my life. I can do it again.” He was talking slower, drawing words out. Starting to fade.
“It won’t be the same this time,” Holden quietly insisted. “This time your leaving a home behind.”
Noah shook his head stubbornly, squeezing his eyes shut at the motion. “This isn’t my home. I know that now. It was… just a stopover. It’s not like I’ll be coming back.”
“No,” Holden had to argue. “Thanksgiving, Christmas? You better be coming back. You have a seat at our dinner table, Noah. Always.” He was pulling into the parking lot of the complex now, almost desperate to gain some headway in this. “Will you keep that in mind?” He parked in front of Noah’s door, then turned sideways to face Noah. Who immediately tried to turn more away. In the back of his brain, Holden was amused at how it looked exactly like Natalie at her most petulant.
He opened his mouth to ask again, but just at that moment the door to Noah’s apartment flew open, and Casey Hughes himself came charging out towards them. Noah immediately took advantage it, getting out of the car without answering Holden. Holden followed, frowning, as Noah wobbled his way towards his friend.
“Noah! Jesus, where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling your cell for like an hour, you...” he trailed off when he caught sight of Noah’s face, his demeanor. “Oh,” his voice quieter, calmer. “It was one of those days, huh?” He smiled sadly, pulling Noah’s arm over his shoulders, wrapping one of his own around Noah’s waist, leading him towards the door.
“I’m fine, Case,” Noah protested.
“I know,” he answered simply.
Holden jogged over to catch up with them. It felt wrong to be there and not help, but when he reached for Noah’s other arm, Casey pinned him with a look. “No offense, Mr. Snyder, but I got it.”
Funny enough, Holden did kind of take offense. He cared a lot about Noah and wanted to help. What was wrong with that? The door opened again as they approached, and Alison stood in the entrance, eyes sad and a little expectant. She barely noticed Holden, instead taking Noah’s hand and pulling him further into the apartment, speaking to him too softly for Holden to hear. This whole thing was so surreal, Holden was half-convinced he’d wake up any second and realize it was all a dream after too much of his mother’s baked pineapple.
Once Ali and Noah were settled in the living room down the hall, Casey turned back to Holden. “Thanks for getting him home. We can take it from here.”
Holden glanced over Casey’s shoulder, hesitant. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? He’s really…” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish that thought. Noah was 'really' a lot of things.
“Look, Mr. Snyder, I really don’t think you should,” Casey looked at him, so uncharacteristically subdued. “It would just get Noah’s hopes up. And then… then when he hasn’t heard from any of you in a month, this’ll happen again. So just, um, let him grieve. Get past all of you.”
“What?” How many times was Holden going to knocked off his feet tonight?
Casey crossed his arms, firm and just this side of defiant. “Luke wasn’t the only one to break up with him. Not from where we’re standing. He cut Noah out of his life completely, while managing to say that they’re still friends somehow. And you all still say he’s family, but you…” he shook his head. “It wouldn’t be fair to get his hopes up again,” he repeated.
“Casey, I swear that’s not what we wanted to do.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alison stand up from the couch, covering a probably-asleep Noah with a blanket. She came up to stand next to Casey, eyeing Holden warily. He insisted again, to both of them, “We never meant to hurt him like this.”
“But you did,” Alison whispered, biting the inside of her cheek a little. Casey draped his arm around her, and suddenly there was a united front separating Holden from Noah. On purpose. He hated being on this side of it.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out Noah’s keys. He hesitated, knowing he was going to lose this round and hating that too. He offered the keys to Casey, fighting the urge to barrel past them and try to work things out with Noah again. Convince him that everything he thought about the Snyder family, about Holden, about himself, was wrong.
But now was obviously not the time for it. He prayed that sometime soon there would be time. He prayed he wasn't too late. Handing the keys over, he locked eyes with Casey. “I’m going to make this right. I promise.” Not waiting for a response, not sure there would be one, he turned and headed to his car, swallowing back the bitter taste in his mouth.
He would make this right. He hated losing. He wasn’t about to let his family lose Noah.
"Calamities are of two kinds: misfortune to ourselves, and good fortune to others." -Ambrose Bierce