FIC: FEET ON THE AIR, HEAD ON THE GROUND (3/4)
Title: Feet On The Air, Head On The Ground
Author: carolinablu85
Chapter: 3/4
Characters: Noah, Luke, Jack, Reid (who, strangely enough, I do not write as a douchebag...), Dallas, Alison
Rating: R for language and violence, A for angst
Spoilers: up through the June 23, 2010 episode, I make it up from there but borrow from canon a little bit
Summary: "I want you to hit me as hard as you can." Noah loses himself after losing Luke.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. I own a pair of sneakers, a cell phone, and some other stuff. The show? Nope, not that.
A/N: Based on a wonderful, beautiful prompt by natashaodwalla: "Fight Club." And then this was born :) PS- I PROMISE this is the last crazy-angsty chapter! There's a happy ending! I promise!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |
CHAPTER THREE
He hit harder, quicker, enjoying the pull of muscles in his arms. A long week made worse by a long day had him begging for this release tonight. He hit again. This was the only time he got to let go of all his worries. Well, not all his worries. There was still-
Dumb move. His distraction allowed the new guy to get past his guard and get in a good hit to his jaw. He reeled back- this guy was way strong, knew what he was doing- remembering a second too late to keep up a defensive stance. Another hit across his temple, and he dropped to one knee, trying to find balance. Shit. Well, maybe he still had a chance at-
Nope. A kick to his stomach laid him flat to the ground. The men around them yelled for him to get up, but that seemed to be out of his control. He used one arm to protect his head, trying to use the other to push himself back up, but it was no use. The guy just pulled his arms away and hit him again. And again. After awhile he lost count of the hits. He could taste blood.
With his last bit of strength, he pushed an arm out to the side, tapping the floor, tapping out. But the hits kept coming. He was confused, did the guy not see him? He tried again, but no change. Another hard punch (kick?) to his ribs, and he could feel them crack. There was pain in his shoulder, his back, his head. He didn’t have enough in him now to try tapping out again. The guy kept hitting. Fuck, this wasn’t going to end well.
The yells around him were going from cheering to shock and anger now. He couldn’t turn his head to look, but he could feel people moving in closer, trying to pull the guy away. He hoped they succeeded. His last thought just before everything went dark, just as a pair of worried, familiar eyes came into view, was I think I’m done.
************
Reid still hadn’t come clean. Then again, neither had Luke. It had been weeks since Luke had discovered the truth about what Reid- and Noah- were doing with their Tuesdays and Fridays. Reid was keeping secrets from him.
We said we’d always be honest with each other, he complained to his brain.
Wait. No, they hadn’t. He and Noah had made that promise. What promises had he and Reid made? What basis did they build a relationship from? What did they-
Luke wished his hair was a little longer, so he could grab it and rip it out. He wished he didn’t live in the same house as his mother and siblings, so he could scream and curse as loud as he wanted. Fuck. (And why hadn’t he gotten his own place yet? Was it really that hard for him to be alone?)
He couldn’t believe he was exercising so much self-control right now with Reid. Every day he dug his stubborn ditch deeper. If he confronted Reid now, things were likely to implode. Fall apart. And he wanted to prevent that. Didn’t he?
He had gotten home that night a shaking, half-crying mess. He was just about to dial Reid’s number, ask him what the fuck, tell him he knew, call him out on all this shit... but then he didn’t. Couldn’t. He stared at the phone instead.
He was angry that Reid had kept this from him and lied to him, and he was upset that Noah was putting himself in harm’s way on purpose. Wasn’t there something wrong with that? Shouldn’t he be... shouldn’t it be the opposite or something?
This was what Luke’s life boiled down to now. Confused. Aimless. Spending more time worried about drama then working (at a job he didn’t want or like. At all. Admit it.) Distrusting of his boyfriend, worried for the guy he was still- worried for his ex.
...His ex who was, by his own admission, sleeping with someone else. Noah. Noah. Having sex with some other guy. Noah had once considered sex with Luke as something so serious and romantic, but now he was just... just giving himself away casually. Like the feelings he’d had the last three years meant nothing and could so easily be thrown away. Like he was forcing himself to move on. Do you think he feels that way about you and Reid? Shut up. This wasn’t about Noah. This was about himself.
What had become of his life? If he continued down this path he was on now, where would he be in five years? Who would he be? With all the opportunities and such at his fingertips, it was kind of shameful, wasn’t it, how little he had done with himself?
He wished he had someone to blame. When he had been with Noah, he had made too much of his life about him, about the “now,” not thinking things through. With Reid... with Reid he was going in circles. Slower and slower. Like circling a drain. So which was better? Which was worse? ...Why was he the common denominator in all of it?
Luke shook his head. He needed to clear it, sort out his thoughts. It was still pretty early in the morning, maybe what he needed was a trip to the farm...
A few minutes later, he stepped quietly into the Snyder kitchen and stopped short. “Hey,” he called out, surprised to see Jack sitting at the table.
Jack looked up, the same amount of surprise on his own face. “Hey Luke. What are you doing here?”
He shrugged with a smile. “Woke up early for no reason, thought maybe I could steal some of Grandma’s breakfast.”
Jack laughed. “Good strategy. Check the fridge, there should be something left in there.”
A few minutes later Luke sat down across from his cousin, plate full of homemade Emma-goodness. “So what are you doing here?” he asked between mouthfuls of food. “Thought you were working the early shifts at the station this month.”
“Oh,” Jack grimaced. “We had to move some schedules around. Dallas Griffin’s in the hospital.”
Luke almost dropped his fork. “What? What happened?”
Jack sighed. “He got attacked the other night. Looks like Dallas put up a good fight, but whoever got the jump on him messed him up bad. He’s only regained consciousness once or twice.” He stole a quick glance at Luke. “Noah’s actually the one who brought him in. You didn’t hear about that?”
Luke could only stare. Dallas put up a good fight... “Was, um, was Noah hurt?”
He felt the tiniest bit of relief when Jack shook his head. “No, from what I understand Noah wasn’t there when it happened. He couldn’t give much of a statement.” He shrugged and kept talking, but Luke didn’t really hear any more of what was said.
It wasn’t planned, and it probably wasn’t wise, but a few hours later Luke found himself at the hospital, in the ICU, staring into Dallas’s room. The man was lying so still in his bed, hooked up to monitors, an oxygen tube running under his nose. He was covered in bruises and sutures and bandages and it almost physically hurt to look at him.
And it hurt even more to look at the chair beside his bed. There was Noah, sitting hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly in front of him. If Luke didn’t know him better, he’d think Noah was praying. (But Noah didn’t believe in God, he’d told Luke that once. They’d been in their apartment, in bed, wrapped up in blankets and wrapped up in each other. Noah had mentioned he stopped believing in God the same time he stopped believing in Santa Claus and Peter Pan. His father wouldn’t let him live in a world of make-believe.)
He was entering the room before he could question whether or not it was a good idea. Noah didn’t react to the door opening and didn’t even flinch when Luke sat in the chair opposite him, on the other side of Dallas. He only kept looking at his friend.
“What happened?” Luke asked, finally breaking the silence.
At first Noah didn’t answer, and Luke wondered if maybe he hadn’t yet realized Luke was there. But then he spoke, voice scarily lifeless. “It was a new guy. His first fight. He didn’t- didn’t go by the rules. Crossed a line, and Dallas...” He couldn’t finish.
Luke started to shake a little, now that it was confirmed that this all came from a night of fighting. Noah had been there. And Reid too. Either one of them could’ve been... “Is there anything anyone can do? To get the guy in trouble? Dallas is a cop, for God’s sake.”
Noah somehow managed to shake his head without moving a muscle. “Being a cop doesn’t matter there. And we took care of it already anyway.”
Luke stared hard at him, realizing what that might mean. There’s no way Noah Mayer would do that. Resort to violence, revenge? Dole out his own justice without doing things the right and proper way? That wasn’t Noah.
Was it?
For the next few minutes, all he could do was stare at Noah’s hands. Those long fingers clasped together so tightly they were pale-white. Scraped knuckles, bruises, a makeshift splint on one ring finger. Just like the rest of Noah, they were something once so beautiful, sweet, tender, but now were marred and harsh. Nearly unrecognizable. It scared him.
He kept staring at the hands until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “I want you to quit fighting,” he said quietly.
There was another beat of silence. Then, “It’s not up to you.” He said it so matter-of-fact, not gentle or easing Luke into it at all.
“I know it’s not,” he replied quickly. “But it’s so- it terrifies me that this could’ve been you. It could be you lying in a hospital bed. Again.”
Finally, Noah moved. But it was only to shrug his shoulders. “How would it be so different from last time? You can even flirt with my doctor again while I’m unconscious. And he’s your boyfriend now, and you’re so right for each other, so you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
It felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Probably an appropriate metaphor. “God, Noah, I...” He shook his head. “What’s going on? This isn’t you. It isn’t. So angry and, and distant? It’s not you. Not Noah.”
Noah shrugged again, his eyes still on Dallas’s bed. From where he sat, Luke could see Noah’s eyes were open and staring. Blank. “Guess I’m not him anymore then. You’re supposed to be over it, Luke.”
“Please, just...” he tried to get the words out right. “You can hate me if you want to, just quit fighting. It’s going to get you killed.”
“I can handle it,” Noah’s voice got tight, controlled. Like his hands.
“Why can’t you see how dangerous it is?” Luke kept at it. “If I all of a sudden wanted to join-”
“No way,” Noah cut him off, finally looking at him. His eyes were supernova bright, and Luke felt them burning just as harshly. But Luke relished it. Burning was better than numb. It meant maybe Noah was still in there somewhere. “No fucking way would I ever let you put yourself in that kind of-” Noah stopped abruptly, realizing the trap he’d just walked into. He grimaced, looking away again.
Luke watched him sadly. “So why is it okay for you to still care about me but I can’t care what happens to you?”
He wasn’t expecting Noah to laugh here, but then- what about Noah had been easy to predict lately? “You know, I’ve been asking myself the same question for months now. Wondering, ‘Man, how is it so easy for Luke to fall out of love with me?’ I really wish I knew the secret to it. It’d be a big help.”
“Noah,” Luke felt the name being torn out of him, it hurt that badly. “That’s not what-”
“You think I hate you?” Noah turned the glare off abruptly. Which hurt just as much. “I wish it were that goddamn simple.”
“You think it’s been easy for me?” Luke nearly gasped.
Noah rolled both lips between his teeth for a second before he could answer. “I haven’t been the one going around flaunting how over you I am.”
“I don’t flaunt it,” Luke tried to explain. “Jesus, I’ve being trying to go out of my way to not show you that...” Shit. He’d walked into his own trap now, hadn’t he?
Noah seemed to agree. “That what? That you’ve moved on? That you’re happier now?” His hands were shaking, but he couldn’t clasp them any tighter to hold it at bay. “Well, great for you, Luke. But I can’t do that. I hate this. I hate this town and I hate how everyone’s known you since birth and knows everything about what you do and who you’re with. I hate that every single place I go reminds me of you. I hate everything in the world except you. And that pisses me off.”
“Noah...” Luke had nothing else in him to say. The thing that freaked him out (okay, one of the things) was that Noah was staying all of this in that same staid, calm, almost conversational tone. Like none of it really mattered. Where was that fire he had just seen? Had he imagined it?
Noah was sitting back in his chair now, as though that extra bit of space would help. “I’m pissed off at everything. You still get to have... whatever, everything, and I don’t. So if this, doing this,” he waved one scarred hand in the air. “If it helps? Then I’m gonna do it. And you have to back off.”
There were tears in Luke’s eyes now, on his face, and he didn’t bother wiping them away. At this point, it was like he couldn’t even remember what the real Noah was supposed to look like or sound like. “There has to be a better way,” he whispered, desperate.
Noah’s answer was to get up and head to the door. “A lot of things could be better,” he muttered. “But it’s... my life isn’t up to you, Luke. If you’ve moved on like you say, then you have to get that in your head. You can’t just pop in and pop out whenever you feel like it.”
Luke opened his mouth to say something, anything, his eyes caught between Dallas lying so still in the hospital bed (that could be Noah) to the figure standing tense and empty at the door (that can’t be Noah). He wanted to make it all better, but he honestly couldn’t say who he wanted to make it better for- Noah, or himself.
He watched as Noah started to leave and suddenly paused in the doorway. He looked down at his feet, unable to get his eyes to go all the way back to Luke. “I wish I could be like you,” his voice rumbled, almost cracking. “I wish I could just leave everything that’s ‘you and me’ behind. But... I hate myself for still loving you.”
The door slammed shut behind him. Luke didn’t know how to fix this. He still loves me?
************
And now he was definitely avoiding Noah. He just didn’t know what else to do. Everything was too painful. For him, and obviously for Noah too. And last thing Luke wanted to do now was cause Noah any more pain.
Not to say he was completely ignoring him, though. In fact, over the last few days he found himself observing Noah a lot. He glanced in the door of Java a couple times. He found himself driving past his and Alison’s apartment, OU campus. And of course, he watched him at the hospital.
Noah spent a lot of time at the hospital now. Usually with Dallas as the man continued to recuperate. It would’ve been a strange friendship if Luke didn’t know where it came from. Noah was there for most of Dallas’s recovery- a quiet, steady presence. Like he was for you. Shut up.
He stood in the hallway, peeking into Dallas’s hospital room, watching as the physical therapist and Noah assisted Dallas in getting to his feet. Dallas said something that caused Noah to shake his head and respond. Whatever he said had Dallas laughing and weakly punching him on the arm. Luke ached to know what Noah had said, and ached as he realized that Noah never smiled back.
He was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one who was worried, thank God. Just last night he’d overheard Alison arguing with Noah. It was Tuesday, and Noah must’ve come to visit Dallas straight from the fight club. Alison still didn’t know what was going on, and her pleading, scolding words had fallen on Noah’s deaf ears.
“Is that your blood?” she demanded.
“Some of it, yeah” he said, so nonchalant.
Noah was still fighting. He was still uncaring, unemotional, unmoved. He was still... He’s still in love with you. Shut up.
Are you still in love with him? “I can’t be,” he muttered to himself. “He’s not Noah anymore.” And don’t you want to help him fix that? Shut up. Don’t you want him to help fix you? “Shut up!”
“Don’t you usually wait until after I’ve said something for that?”
Luke whirled around, a probably guilty expression on his face, until he saw it was Reid. He tamped down on the guilt then. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He wasn’t the liar here. “Hey.”
Reid raised an eyebrow, glancing over Luke’s shoulder into the hospital room. “Ah. Something tells me you weren’t checking in on Officer Griffin.”
“You should’ve told me,” Luke snapped.
Reid raised the other eyebrow. “About the guy getting mugged? I wasn’t aware that you two were friends. Are you sure this little mood of yours has nothing to do with-”
“Wow, yes of course, you figured it out,” Luke deadpanned. “It actually has nothing to do with what I’m feeling.” He paused to take a breath. “So how’s that working out for you?”
“What?”
“Being clever,” Luke snapped.
“Great,” Reid shot back, probably out of instinct.
He couldn’t keep up the stupid banter. “You. Should’ve. Told me,” Luke lowered his voice, his glare burrowing into Reid’s disinterested, confused eyes.
After a moment, Reid’s face ticked just a little, the only indication that he was unsettled. “About what?” he tried.
It just pissed Luke off that much more. “About what you really do two nights a week. About your stupid fight-”
“Hey,” Reid grabbed his arm, pulling him down the hall to an empty room. Luke let himself be led in, then wrenched his arm free as soon as they were inside. Reid sighed. “How did you find out?” his eyes drifted back in the direction of Dallas’s room.
Luke rolled his eyes. “Noah didn’t tell me. But you should have. You should have been honest with me.” It was his turn to sigh. “I followed you, okay? A couple weeks ago.”
“You followed me?” Reid echoed. “Weeks?”
“Yes,” he shot back, unrepentant. “I guess you’re not quite as clever as you thought. Uh-oh. The great Reid Oliver got outwitted by his dumb trophy blond of a boyfriend. That must be embarrassing.”
Reid held up a hand. “Look. I know you’re pissed at me, but you don’t have to act childish about it. Okay?”
“I am childish, aren’t I?” Luke tried to calm down, he really did. It just didn’t work. “Guess what. I’m twenty-one years old! I’m not an adult. Sometimes I’m not very responsible. Or mature. It happens. But at least I wouldn’t lie like this. You know nothing about being in a relationship. Maybe you need to grow up too.”
“Excuse me?” Reid stepped forward, his own voice rising, eyes narrowing.
Luke crossed his arms, defiant. “You’re damn right I’m pissed. You lied to me. You used the hospital to lie to me. You’re doing something I bet is illegal. You could jeopardize the wing- and the hospital- over this if you got caught.”
“What about me?” Reid asked quietly.
“What?” Luke asked, unsure of where this was going.
“Are you at all worried about me getting hurt? Jeopardizing myself? That didn’t seem to be on your list.”
“So, what,” Luke snapped. “This is all a cry for attention? A test for me?”
Reid snorted. “No, that’s not my style.”
That stopped Luke in his tracks. “What does that mean? You really better not be talking about me or-” he stopped.
Reid nodded. “Exactly. Is this really about me? Or is it about Noah?”
“Neither,” he answered immediately. “It’s about you and me. And how you kept this from me.” Noah’s not your escape hatch from our conversations, he just barely managed to stop himself from saying.
Reid threw his hands up in frustration. “I don’t have to tell you every single thing, Luke. First and foremost, it’s my life. My choices, my decisions. That’s the way it’s always been.”
“We’re supposed to be a couple. That means we share things. We trust each other,” Luke argued, growing quiet. He was so tired all of a sudden. “Maybe you don’t have to tell me everything. But you don’t have to lie to me like you did. I always said about you, ‘at least he tells me things.’ I hate being wrong.”
Reid looked like he wanted to ask Luke who he had told that to. Luckily for both of them, he didn’t. Instead, “Well, I’m sorry, but there are sides of me you’re not going to be perfectly happy with. You’re going to have to deal with-”
“Sides? You’re like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass!” Luke growled. “You think you can be as mean and inconsiderate as you want and everyone will just excuse it because it’s just ‘who you are,’” he used air quotes almost violently. “Maybe that’s not okay.”
“Luke,” Reid stared him down. “Just because there are parts of me you don’t like, it doesn’t mean you have a right to try to change them.”
“Aren’t relationships supposed to be about trying to encourage the other person to be the best he can?” Luke asked, plaintive. How had their conversation transitioned into this? Wasn’t this supposed to be about Reid lying to him?
“Aren’t they about accepting the other as he is?” Reid replied, completely calm.
“I don’t know,” Luke sighed. “I don’t know anymore.” They were at an impasse, a crossroads of some kind. He could feel it. Problem was, he didn’t know what was at the end of either way, which meant he didn’t know which way to go. He hated this feeling. Uncertainty wasn't exciting; it was punishing.
“People do it everyday,” Reid commented, almost offhand. “They see themselves as they’d like to be, what they think they should be. They just don’t have the courage you have to run with it.”
Luke rubbed at his face, feeling a headache coming on. “What do you mean?”
Reid stared him down. “Do you really not know, or just don’t want to hear it?”
“What are you, my therapist?” Luke snapped.
“Honestly? I don’t know what I am to you, Luke. Looking at actions, looking at words, I just don’t know,” Reid exhaled slowly.
He shook his head. “Reid. You knew my break up with Noah was messy and there were some unresolved f- issues there. You can’t all of a sudden pretend otherwise.”
“I’m not,” Reid argued. “I did know that. I’m just not sure you did. Or do. If you tell me, right now, that you don’t still love him, then you’re lying to me. And to yourself.”
“What?” Luke shook his head. “I’m not-”
“Luke,” Reid almost laughed, “You are. And hey, a big reason why you’re so miserable right now is because you’re fighting you. Wake up, Snyder. We both need to. Neither of us are being the people we were when we first met. We’re not all that happy right now.”
“So it’s some chore being with me?” Luke couldn’t handle the words being thrown at him, so he latched onto the easiest defensive.
Reid just rolled his eyes. “Did I say that? What we have, Luke, it’s not bad. It could be great. But only if I can be with you. With Luke Snyder. Not this poster boy, this walking Ken doll you’re making yourself into. You’re kidding yourself if you think you can force yourself into this shit.” Reid turned around to open the door. “And if the real you, the real Luke Snyder, is in love with someone else, then he shouldn’t be with me. So let me go, or let him go.”
Luke was getting tired of watching guys get the last word on him and walk away. And he was really tired of asking so many questions, and never getting answers. Maybe something had to change.
************
“Hey,” Noah entered the room after a quick knock. He held up his keys. “You ready to go?”
Dallas was already holding his bag, on his feet, almost bouncing. “Hell fucking yeah, I’m ready! Bust me out of here, man!”
Noah just shook his head, smiled so Dallas would think he was amused. He wasn’t. He’d been feeling sick every since that night Dallas got hurt. And since the morning after, when he had been stupid (again) and spilled all that crap to Luke. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he had told Luke he was still in love with him. How pathetic was that? Luke had already made it clear he was done with him, and yet Noah had still felt the urge to make an idiot of himself.
He shook himself free of those thoughts, walking with Dallas out to the Nurses’ Station so he could drop off release forms. Noah glanced around, out of habit, but Ali wasn’t there. She was mad at him again, but he couldn’t understand why anymore. It just made him confused and sick-feeling again.
They were walking out to the parking lot when Dallas let out a relieved sigh. “Man, I cannot wait to get to Al’s. I’m ordering everything on the breakfast menu. It’s going to be amazing.”
“Until you die of gluttony,” Noah pointed out as they climbed into his truck.
“It’s going to be amazing,” he reiterated, snorting at Noah’s skeptical look. “Hey, for awhile there it looked like I might only get to eat food through a straw for the rest of my life. This breakfast is going to taste better to me than any meal you’ve ever tasted.”
Noah narrowed his eyes a little. “Are you allowed to eat whatever so soon after getting out? Shouldn’t you be taking it easy right now?”
Dallas mock-glared. “Excuse me, Mr. Caretaker. Doctor said I had to avoid undue stress for awhile. Not bacon.”
Noah managed not to roll his eyes now. “I just think you should be careful for awhile. It’s not worth risking your job or, you know, life over.”
“I don’t know, Noah,” Dallas grinned again. “It’s pretty damn good bacon.” He took a breath. “Besides, I’m not going back to the club.”
Noah didn’t outwardly react, but part of him almost felt like stomping on the brakes. “What?”
Dallas’s smile was quieter now, kinder. “I’m not going to fight anymore. You’re right, it’s not worth the risk. And,” he turned in his seat, fully facing Noah. “And you shouldn’t either.”
Noah felt his jaw clench, his fingers tighten over the steering wheel. It actually surprised him, he didn’t know he could still physically react like that anymore. Except when Luke was involved. How can he ignore me and still care about me? Why can’t he just hate me or love me? I don’t understand. No. No.
Noah didn’t think about that anymore. Never again. It was easier that way.
Dallas continued talking, unaware of Noah’s thoughts. “It’s just... Noah, kid, every Tuesday and Friday I go to that room, part of me hopes you don’t show up. Sometimes I regret it. Bringing you into that place.”
Noah kept his voice calm, ignoring the faint voice in his head that normally would want to mock this Good Will Hunting moment. “Why?”
Dallas spoke gently, and Noah couldn’t tell yet if it was aggravating or working. “I just think you’re giving better advice than you’re taking for yourself. This isn’t right for you, Noah. Not worth risking your life over.”
What life? Noah wanted to ask. But he kept quiet. He kept calm. He was good at that, at least. His eyes on the road, periodically checking the rearview mirror. Hands at ten and two position on the steering wheel. Foot steady on the gas pedal. He was in control.
And yet somehow, Dallas was still talking. “The club is a drug, man. Nothing more. It’s there for an immediate rush and, I don’t know, gratification. But it’s not going to sustain you or give you whatever it is you’re looking for.”
“I’m not looking for anything,” Noah murmured, wondering how much of that was a lie and how much of that was sadly the truth.
“That’s not any better,” Dallas replied. “The other guys in the club use it as an escape from life, not a place to shut down for life. You’re fading, Noah. Fast. And it ain’t pretty. I know losing Luke must hurt, but-”
“No,” Noah didn’t know his voice could get quieter, but it did. And still somehow was enough to interrupt Dallas. “You don’t know what I’ve lost.” Luke. Family. Me. Home. Everything.
Dallas regarded him sadly, tilting his head in acknowledgement. “Okay. That’s probably true, though- I have to say- not for lack of trying on my part. I wish I could know what was going on inside your head sometimes. But Noah... this fighting won’t fix anything. It’s a drug. If you make it your life, you’re just going to end up crashing and burning like any other addict.”
It was on the tip of Noah’s tongue- So? But he didn’t say it. He didn’t want to give Dallas anything. He didn’t want to be here right now. Check the mirrors. Ten and two. Eyes on the road. He couldn’t do this right now.
Dallas apparently had had enough. He smacked his hand on the dashboard, barely wincing when it pulled at his own stiff and sore muscles. “Fuck, Noah. Do you not see the trouble you’re in? Don’t you want to get out of this mess?”
He felt compelled to answer, feeling Dallas’s almost desperate glare on him. The same look Ali had sometimes. What the hell was wrong with these people? “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” Dallas insisted. “Either you want to get better or you don’t. But you know. And I want to hear you say it, because I honestly don’t know what your answer will be.”
“I don’t know,” he tried to say again, hearing his voice slip. Damn it.
Dallas shook his head. “If what happened to me had happened to you, what would you do? How would you feel about your life?”
“I don’t know!” Noah was yelling suddenly. Thank God the ‘survival instincts’ part of his body got the car stopped and in park before he turned to glare at Dallas. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t feel anything good about my life, is that what you want to hear me say? Fine.”
“Not good enough,” Dallas tried to lean in as much as his healing ribs would allow. “You’re a good person, Noah. Too good for this. Don’t give in to it. Seriously. Please.”
Noah was staring straight ahead again. They were pulled over by just outside of Old Town. Next to the apartment complex where Dallas lived. The road in front of him just stretched on and on into the horizon. No end in sight. Noah stared at it until his eyes blurred and he had to blink quickly. He still panicked at that sometimes. Like a quick jolt to the heart- why can’t I see?- but it always went away within a few seconds.
“Noah?” Dallas prodded.
He put the truck back into drive and made the turn into the parking lot, pulling up in front of Dallas’s door. “Do you need help getting inside?”
For a second Dallas looked immensely sad. But he just shook his head, picking up his bag from the floorboards at his feet. “No, man, I got it,” he said softly.
Noah nodded, still mostly facing forward. “Be careful. Have a good breakfast.” What else could he say? Or do? He liked Dallas- the guy didn’t patronize or bullshit him. But this, this was uncomfortably close to pity. And pity was stupid, because Noah thought he was doing a good enough job showing he didn’t care anymore. It all gave him a headache. He just wanted to go back to his bed and sleep the rest of the day away. Skip his classes, call out of work, forget the rest of the world existed...
************
Which is what he did. He made it back to the apartment either after Ali already left for work or before she got back from Casey’s. Either way, he was alone. He crawled sluggishly into his bed, kicking off his shoes but forgetting about the rest. Who cared if his shirt got wrinkled, right? He was suddenly exhausted, asleep within seconds of dropping his head to the pillow.
He was dreaming. He knew he was. It was one of those random flash of images things- like he used to have when he was blind. (As though the universe was just rubbing it in that he couldn’t see.) Images of Emma cooking, Aaron throwing a football around, Luke smirking at him, the girls playing ‘Excuse Me,’ Holden brushing down a horse, Luke again. Lily and Lucinda sharing a glass of wine together. Luke, Luke, Luke.
And then Noah himself. Fighting, always fighting. Someone yelling at him from off to the side, somewhere in the darkness surrounding him, but he couldn’t understand the words. He kept on fighting, attacking anything and anyone that came near him. Not letting them get close enough to do any damage to him. Protecting himself.
But something got through. Someone. They matched every punch he threw, getting closer and closer. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let anyone get close. He fought harder, desperately. He didn’t know he could feel sick in a dream, but he was nauseous, shaking, weak. He couldn’t get rid of this person.
Slowly, slowly, the faceless person took shape. No matter how hard he hit, how loud he yelled, it was still there. He. The ‘it’ was a he. A random face, maybe the first guy he ever fought in the club. But then he was Dallas, eyes unhappy. Then Reid, unimpressed. Then Luke. And Noah tried to stop, but his fist kept on hitting. He was fighting Luke. And Luke didn’t stop either, uncaring.
In another blink, Luke was gone (thank God), and now the face was... his own. Noah was torn between wanting to throw up and wanting to hit harder than he’d ever hit before. He deserved it. He wanted it. Finally. He pulled back, preparing a knockout, a kill shot-
And he woke up.
Noah shoved himself upwards, sitting up with a hollow gasp. He tried to breathe deeply, slowly, tried to ignore the heaviness that was forming a cinderblock in his chest. He blinked hard, but his vision stayed blurry. And then he realized why- he was crying.
Fuck. He was crying? He didn’t cry. He wasn’t supposed to. But now he couldn’t stop, and the tears kept coming. Noah leaned back against his headboard, wiping at his face, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.
It didn’t know how long he sat there, but finally he got his breathing back under control. His tears dried up soon after. Noah felt worn out, worse than after he’d been through a fight. Fuck. He hadn’t cried in a year, not since the last time he saw his father. He’d spent so long- all summer- pretending he felt nothing. Maybe something had to change.
I am Noah’s wasted life.
to be continued...
Author: carolinablu85
Chapter: 3/4
Characters: Noah, Luke, Jack, Reid (who, strangely enough, I do not write as a douchebag...), Dallas, Alison
Rating: R for language and violence, A for angst
Spoilers: up through the June 23, 2010 episode, I make it up from there but borrow from canon a little bit
Summary: "I want you to hit me as hard as you can." Noah loses himself after losing Luke.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. I own a pair of sneakers, a cell phone, and some other stuff. The show? Nope, not that.
A/N: Based on a wonderful, beautiful prompt by natashaodwalla: "Fight Club." And then this was born :) PS- I PROMISE this is the last crazy-angsty chapter! There's a happy ending! I promise!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |
CHAPTER THREE
He hit harder, quicker, enjoying the pull of muscles in his arms. A long week made worse by a long day had him begging for this release tonight. He hit again. This was the only time he got to let go of all his worries. Well, not all his worries. There was still-
Dumb move. His distraction allowed the new guy to get past his guard and get in a good hit to his jaw. He reeled back- this guy was way strong, knew what he was doing- remembering a second too late to keep up a defensive stance. Another hit across his temple, and he dropped to one knee, trying to find balance. Shit. Well, maybe he still had a chance at-
Nope. A kick to his stomach laid him flat to the ground. The men around them yelled for him to get up, but that seemed to be out of his control. He used one arm to protect his head, trying to use the other to push himself back up, but it was no use. The guy just pulled his arms away and hit him again. And again. After awhile he lost count of the hits. He could taste blood.
With his last bit of strength, he pushed an arm out to the side, tapping the floor, tapping out. But the hits kept coming. He was confused, did the guy not see him? He tried again, but no change. Another hard punch (kick?) to his ribs, and he could feel them crack. There was pain in his shoulder, his back, his head. He didn’t have enough in him now to try tapping out again. The guy kept hitting. Fuck, this wasn’t going to end well.
The yells around him were going from cheering to shock and anger now. He couldn’t turn his head to look, but he could feel people moving in closer, trying to pull the guy away. He hoped they succeeded. His last thought just before everything went dark, just as a pair of worried, familiar eyes came into view, was I think I’m done.
************
Reid still hadn’t come clean. Then again, neither had Luke. It had been weeks since Luke had discovered the truth about what Reid- and Noah- were doing with their Tuesdays and Fridays. Reid was keeping secrets from him.
We said we’d always be honest with each other, he complained to his brain.
Wait. No, they hadn’t. He and Noah had made that promise. What promises had he and Reid made? What basis did they build a relationship from? What did they-
Luke wished his hair was a little longer, so he could grab it and rip it out. He wished he didn’t live in the same house as his mother and siblings, so he could scream and curse as loud as he wanted. Fuck. (And why hadn’t he gotten his own place yet? Was it really that hard for him to be alone?)
He couldn’t believe he was exercising so much self-control right now with Reid. Every day he dug his stubborn ditch deeper. If he confronted Reid now, things were likely to implode. Fall apart. And he wanted to prevent that. Didn’t he?
He had gotten home that night a shaking, half-crying mess. He was just about to dial Reid’s number, ask him what the fuck, tell him he knew, call him out on all this shit... but then he didn’t. Couldn’t. He stared at the phone instead.
He was angry that Reid had kept this from him and lied to him, and he was upset that Noah was putting himself in harm’s way on purpose. Wasn’t there something wrong with that? Shouldn’t he be... shouldn’t it be the opposite or something?
This was what Luke’s life boiled down to now. Confused. Aimless. Spending more time worried about drama then working (at a job he didn’t want or like. At all. Admit it.) Distrusting of his boyfriend, worried for the guy he was still- worried for his ex.
...His ex who was, by his own admission, sleeping with someone else. Noah. Noah. Having sex with some other guy. Noah had once considered sex with Luke as something so serious and romantic, but now he was just... just giving himself away casually. Like the feelings he’d had the last three years meant nothing and could so easily be thrown away. Like he was forcing himself to move on. Do you think he feels that way about you and Reid? Shut up. This wasn’t about Noah. This was about himself.
What had become of his life? If he continued down this path he was on now, where would he be in five years? Who would he be? With all the opportunities and such at his fingertips, it was kind of shameful, wasn’t it, how little he had done with himself?
He wished he had someone to blame. When he had been with Noah, he had made too much of his life about him, about the “now,” not thinking things through. With Reid... with Reid he was going in circles. Slower and slower. Like circling a drain. So which was better? Which was worse? ...Why was he the common denominator in all of it?
Luke shook his head. He needed to clear it, sort out his thoughts. It was still pretty early in the morning, maybe what he needed was a trip to the farm...
A few minutes later, he stepped quietly into the Snyder kitchen and stopped short. “Hey,” he called out, surprised to see Jack sitting at the table.
Jack looked up, the same amount of surprise on his own face. “Hey Luke. What are you doing here?”
He shrugged with a smile. “Woke up early for no reason, thought maybe I could steal some of Grandma’s breakfast.”
Jack laughed. “Good strategy. Check the fridge, there should be something left in there.”
A few minutes later Luke sat down across from his cousin, plate full of homemade Emma-goodness. “So what are you doing here?” he asked between mouthfuls of food. “Thought you were working the early shifts at the station this month.”
“Oh,” Jack grimaced. “We had to move some schedules around. Dallas Griffin’s in the hospital.”
Luke almost dropped his fork. “What? What happened?”
Jack sighed. “He got attacked the other night. Looks like Dallas put up a good fight, but whoever got the jump on him messed him up bad. He’s only regained consciousness once or twice.” He stole a quick glance at Luke. “Noah’s actually the one who brought him in. You didn’t hear about that?”
Luke could only stare. Dallas put up a good fight... “Was, um, was Noah hurt?”
He felt the tiniest bit of relief when Jack shook his head. “No, from what I understand Noah wasn’t there when it happened. He couldn’t give much of a statement.” He shrugged and kept talking, but Luke didn’t really hear any more of what was said.
It wasn’t planned, and it probably wasn’t wise, but a few hours later Luke found himself at the hospital, in the ICU, staring into Dallas’s room. The man was lying so still in his bed, hooked up to monitors, an oxygen tube running under his nose. He was covered in bruises and sutures and bandages and it almost physically hurt to look at him.
And it hurt even more to look at the chair beside his bed. There was Noah, sitting hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly in front of him. If Luke didn’t know him better, he’d think Noah was praying. (But Noah didn’t believe in God, he’d told Luke that once. They’d been in their apartment, in bed, wrapped up in blankets and wrapped up in each other. Noah had mentioned he stopped believing in God the same time he stopped believing in Santa Claus and Peter Pan. His father wouldn’t let him live in a world of make-believe.)
He was entering the room before he could question whether or not it was a good idea. Noah didn’t react to the door opening and didn’t even flinch when Luke sat in the chair opposite him, on the other side of Dallas. He only kept looking at his friend.
“What happened?” Luke asked, finally breaking the silence.
At first Noah didn’t answer, and Luke wondered if maybe he hadn’t yet realized Luke was there. But then he spoke, voice scarily lifeless. “It was a new guy. His first fight. He didn’t- didn’t go by the rules. Crossed a line, and Dallas...” He couldn’t finish.
Luke started to shake a little, now that it was confirmed that this all came from a night of fighting. Noah had been there. And Reid too. Either one of them could’ve been... “Is there anything anyone can do? To get the guy in trouble? Dallas is a cop, for God’s sake.”
Noah somehow managed to shake his head without moving a muscle. “Being a cop doesn’t matter there. And we took care of it already anyway.”
Luke stared hard at him, realizing what that might mean. There’s no way Noah Mayer would do that. Resort to violence, revenge? Dole out his own justice without doing things the right and proper way? That wasn’t Noah.
Was it?
For the next few minutes, all he could do was stare at Noah’s hands. Those long fingers clasped together so tightly they were pale-white. Scraped knuckles, bruises, a makeshift splint on one ring finger. Just like the rest of Noah, they were something once so beautiful, sweet, tender, but now were marred and harsh. Nearly unrecognizable. It scared him.
He kept staring at the hands until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “I want you to quit fighting,” he said quietly.
There was another beat of silence. Then, “It’s not up to you.” He said it so matter-of-fact, not gentle or easing Luke into it at all.
“I know it’s not,” he replied quickly. “But it’s so- it terrifies me that this could’ve been you. It could be you lying in a hospital bed. Again.”
Finally, Noah moved. But it was only to shrug his shoulders. “How would it be so different from last time? You can even flirt with my doctor again while I’m unconscious. And he’s your boyfriend now, and you’re so right for each other, so you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
It felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Probably an appropriate metaphor. “God, Noah, I...” He shook his head. “What’s going on? This isn’t you. It isn’t. So angry and, and distant? It’s not you. Not Noah.”
Noah shrugged again, his eyes still on Dallas’s bed. From where he sat, Luke could see Noah’s eyes were open and staring. Blank. “Guess I’m not him anymore then. You’re supposed to be over it, Luke.”
“Please, just...” he tried to get the words out right. “You can hate me if you want to, just quit fighting. It’s going to get you killed.”
“I can handle it,” Noah’s voice got tight, controlled. Like his hands.
“Why can’t you see how dangerous it is?” Luke kept at it. “If I all of a sudden wanted to join-”
“No way,” Noah cut him off, finally looking at him. His eyes were supernova bright, and Luke felt them burning just as harshly. But Luke relished it. Burning was better than numb. It meant maybe Noah was still in there somewhere. “No fucking way would I ever let you put yourself in that kind of-” Noah stopped abruptly, realizing the trap he’d just walked into. He grimaced, looking away again.
Luke watched him sadly. “So why is it okay for you to still care about me but I can’t care what happens to you?”
He wasn’t expecting Noah to laugh here, but then- what about Noah had been easy to predict lately? “You know, I’ve been asking myself the same question for months now. Wondering, ‘Man, how is it so easy for Luke to fall out of love with me?’ I really wish I knew the secret to it. It’d be a big help.”
“Noah,” Luke felt the name being torn out of him, it hurt that badly. “That’s not what-”
“You think I hate you?” Noah turned the glare off abruptly. Which hurt just as much. “I wish it were that goddamn simple.”
“You think it’s been easy for me?” Luke nearly gasped.
Noah rolled both lips between his teeth for a second before he could answer. “I haven’t been the one going around flaunting how over you I am.”
“I don’t flaunt it,” Luke tried to explain. “Jesus, I’ve being trying to go out of my way to not show you that...” Shit. He’d walked into his own trap now, hadn’t he?
Noah seemed to agree. “That what? That you’ve moved on? That you’re happier now?” His hands were shaking, but he couldn’t clasp them any tighter to hold it at bay. “Well, great for you, Luke. But I can’t do that. I hate this. I hate this town and I hate how everyone’s known you since birth and knows everything about what you do and who you’re with. I hate that every single place I go reminds me of you. I hate everything in the world except you. And that pisses me off.”
“Noah...” Luke had nothing else in him to say. The thing that freaked him out (okay, one of the things) was that Noah was staying all of this in that same staid, calm, almost conversational tone. Like none of it really mattered. Where was that fire he had just seen? Had he imagined it?
Noah was sitting back in his chair now, as though that extra bit of space would help. “I’m pissed off at everything. You still get to have... whatever, everything, and I don’t. So if this, doing this,” he waved one scarred hand in the air. “If it helps? Then I’m gonna do it. And you have to back off.”
There were tears in Luke’s eyes now, on his face, and he didn’t bother wiping them away. At this point, it was like he couldn’t even remember what the real Noah was supposed to look like or sound like. “There has to be a better way,” he whispered, desperate.
Noah’s answer was to get up and head to the door. “A lot of things could be better,” he muttered. “But it’s... my life isn’t up to you, Luke. If you’ve moved on like you say, then you have to get that in your head. You can’t just pop in and pop out whenever you feel like it.”
Luke opened his mouth to say something, anything, his eyes caught between Dallas lying so still in the hospital bed (that could be Noah) to the figure standing tense and empty at the door (that can’t be Noah). He wanted to make it all better, but he honestly couldn’t say who he wanted to make it better for- Noah, or himself.
He watched as Noah started to leave and suddenly paused in the doorway. He looked down at his feet, unable to get his eyes to go all the way back to Luke. “I wish I could be like you,” his voice rumbled, almost cracking. “I wish I could just leave everything that’s ‘you and me’ behind. But... I hate myself for still loving you.”
The door slammed shut behind him. Luke didn’t know how to fix this. He still loves me?
************
And now he was definitely avoiding Noah. He just didn’t know what else to do. Everything was too painful. For him, and obviously for Noah too. And last thing Luke wanted to do now was cause Noah any more pain.
Not to say he was completely ignoring him, though. In fact, over the last few days he found himself observing Noah a lot. He glanced in the door of Java a couple times. He found himself driving past his and Alison’s apartment, OU campus. And of course, he watched him at the hospital.
Noah spent a lot of time at the hospital now. Usually with Dallas as the man continued to recuperate. It would’ve been a strange friendship if Luke didn’t know where it came from. Noah was there for most of Dallas’s recovery- a quiet, steady presence. Like he was for you. Shut up.
He stood in the hallway, peeking into Dallas’s hospital room, watching as the physical therapist and Noah assisted Dallas in getting to his feet. Dallas said something that caused Noah to shake his head and respond. Whatever he said had Dallas laughing and weakly punching him on the arm. Luke ached to know what Noah had said, and ached as he realized that Noah never smiled back.
He was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one who was worried, thank God. Just last night he’d overheard Alison arguing with Noah. It was Tuesday, and Noah must’ve come to visit Dallas straight from the fight club. Alison still didn’t know what was going on, and her pleading, scolding words had fallen on Noah’s deaf ears.
“Is that your blood?” she demanded.
“Some of it, yeah” he said, so nonchalant.
Noah was still fighting. He was still uncaring, unemotional, unmoved. He was still... He’s still in love with you. Shut up.
Are you still in love with him? “I can’t be,” he muttered to himself. “He’s not Noah anymore.” And don’t you want to help him fix that? Shut up. Don’t you want him to help fix you? “Shut up!”
“Don’t you usually wait until after I’ve said something for that?”
Luke whirled around, a probably guilty expression on his face, until he saw it was Reid. He tamped down on the guilt then. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He wasn’t the liar here. “Hey.”
Reid raised an eyebrow, glancing over Luke’s shoulder into the hospital room. “Ah. Something tells me you weren’t checking in on Officer Griffin.”
“You should’ve told me,” Luke snapped.
Reid raised the other eyebrow. “About the guy getting mugged? I wasn’t aware that you two were friends. Are you sure this little mood of yours has nothing to do with-”
“Wow, yes of course, you figured it out,” Luke deadpanned. “It actually has nothing to do with what I’m feeling.” He paused to take a breath. “So how’s that working out for you?”
“What?”
“Being clever,” Luke snapped.
“Great,” Reid shot back, probably out of instinct.
He couldn’t keep up the stupid banter. “You. Should’ve. Told me,” Luke lowered his voice, his glare burrowing into Reid’s disinterested, confused eyes.
After a moment, Reid’s face ticked just a little, the only indication that he was unsettled. “About what?” he tried.
It just pissed Luke off that much more. “About what you really do two nights a week. About your stupid fight-”
“Hey,” Reid grabbed his arm, pulling him down the hall to an empty room. Luke let himself be led in, then wrenched his arm free as soon as they were inside. Reid sighed. “How did you find out?” his eyes drifted back in the direction of Dallas’s room.
Luke rolled his eyes. “Noah didn’t tell me. But you should have. You should have been honest with me.” It was his turn to sigh. “I followed you, okay? A couple weeks ago.”
“You followed me?” Reid echoed. “Weeks?”
“Yes,” he shot back, unrepentant. “I guess you’re not quite as clever as you thought. Uh-oh. The great Reid Oliver got outwitted by his dumb trophy blond of a boyfriend. That must be embarrassing.”
Reid held up a hand. “Look. I know you’re pissed at me, but you don’t have to act childish about it. Okay?”
“I am childish, aren’t I?” Luke tried to calm down, he really did. It just didn’t work. “Guess what. I’m twenty-one years old! I’m not an adult. Sometimes I’m not very responsible. Or mature. It happens. But at least I wouldn’t lie like this. You know nothing about being in a relationship. Maybe you need to grow up too.”
“Excuse me?” Reid stepped forward, his own voice rising, eyes narrowing.
Luke crossed his arms, defiant. “You’re damn right I’m pissed. You lied to me. You used the hospital to lie to me. You’re doing something I bet is illegal. You could jeopardize the wing- and the hospital- over this if you got caught.”
“What about me?” Reid asked quietly.
“What?” Luke asked, unsure of where this was going.
“Are you at all worried about me getting hurt? Jeopardizing myself? That didn’t seem to be on your list.”
“So, what,” Luke snapped. “This is all a cry for attention? A test for me?”
Reid snorted. “No, that’s not my style.”
That stopped Luke in his tracks. “What does that mean? You really better not be talking about me or-” he stopped.
Reid nodded. “Exactly. Is this really about me? Or is it about Noah?”
“Neither,” he answered immediately. “It’s about you and me. And how you kept this from me.” Noah’s not your escape hatch from our conversations, he just barely managed to stop himself from saying.
Reid threw his hands up in frustration. “I don’t have to tell you every single thing, Luke. First and foremost, it’s my life. My choices, my decisions. That’s the way it’s always been.”
“We’re supposed to be a couple. That means we share things. We trust each other,” Luke argued, growing quiet. He was so tired all of a sudden. “Maybe you don’t have to tell me everything. But you don’t have to lie to me like you did. I always said about you, ‘at least he tells me things.’ I hate being wrong.”
Reid looked like he wanted to ask Luke who he had told that to. Luckily for both of them, he didn’t. Instead, “Well, I’m sorry, but there are sides of me you’re not going to be perfectly happy with. You’re going to have to deal with-”
“Sides? You’re like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass!” Luke growled. “You think you can be as mean and inconsiderate as you want and everyone will just excuse it because it’s just ‘who you are,’” he used air quotes almost violently. “Maybe that’s not okay.”
“Luke,” Reid stared him down. “Just because there are parts of me you don’t like, it doesn’t mean you have a right to try to change them.”
“Aren’t relationships supposed to be about trying to encourage the other person to be the best he can?” Luke asked, plaintive. How had their conversation transitioned into this? Wasn’t this supposed to be about Reid lying to him?
“Aren’t they about accepting the other as he is?” Reid replied, completely calm.
“I don’t know,” Luke sighed. “I don’t know anymore.” They were at an impasse, a crossroads of some kind. He could feel it. Problem was, he didn’t know what was at the end of either way, which meant he didn’t know which way to go. He hated this feeling. Uncertainty wasn't exciting; it was punishing.
“People do it everyday,” Reid commented, almost offhand. “They see themselves as they’d like to be, what they think they should be. They just don’t have the courage you have to run with it.”
Luke rubbed at his face, feeling a headache coming on. “What do you mean?”
Reid stared him down. “Do you really not know, or just don’t want to hear it?”
“What are you, my therapist?” Luke snapped.
“Honestly? I don’t know what I am to you, Luke. Looking at actions, looking at words, I just don’t know,” Reid exhaled slowly.
He shook his head. “Reid. You knew my break up with Noah was messy and there were some unresolved f- issues there. You can’t all of a sudden pretend otherwise.”
“I’m not,” Reid argued. “I did know that. I’m just not sure you did. Or do. If you tell me, right now, that you don’t still love him, then you’re lying to me. And to yourself.”
“What?” Luke shook his head. “I’m not-”
“Luke,” Reid almost laughed, “You are. And hey, a big reason why you’re so miserable right now is because you’re fighting you. Wake up, Snyder. We both need to. Neither of us are being the people we were when we first met. We’re not all that happy right now.”
“So it’s some chore being with me?” Luke couldn’t handle the words being thrown at him, so he latched onto the easiest defensive.
Reid just rolled his eyes. “Did I say that? What we have, Luke, it’s not bad. It could be great. But only if I can be with you. With Luke Snyder. Not this poster boy, this walking Ken doll you’re making yourself into. You’re kidding yourself if you think you can force yourself into this shit.” Reid turned around to open the door. “And if the real you, the real Luke Snyder, is in love with someone else, then he shouldn’t be with me. So let me go, or let him go.”
Luke was getting tired of watching guys get the last word on him and walk away. And he was really tired of asking so many questions, and never getting answers. Maybe something had to change.
************
“Hey,” Noah entered the room after a quick knock. He held up his keys. “You ready to go?”
Dallas was already holding his bag, on his feet, almost bouncing. “Hell fucking yeah, I’m ready! Bust me out of here, man!”
Noah just shook his head, smiled so Dallas would think he was amused. He wasn’t. He’d been feeling sick every since that night Dallas got hurt. And since the morning after, when he had been stupid (again) and spilled all that crap to Luke. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he had told Luke he was still in love with him. How pathetic was that? Luke had already made it clear he was done with him, and yet Noah had still felt the urge to make an idiot of himself.
He shook himself free of those thoughts, walking with Dallas out to the Nurses’ Station so he could drop off release forms. Noah glanced around, out of habit, but Ali wasn’t there. She was mad at him again, but he couldn’t understand why anymore. It just made him confused and sick-feeling again.
They were walking out to the parking lot when Dallas let out a relieved sigh. “Man, I cannot wait to get to Al’s. I’m ordering everything on the breakfast menu. It’s going to be amazing.”
“Until you die of gluttony,” Noah pointed out as they climbed into his truck.
“It’s going to be amazing,” he reiterated, snorting at Noah’s skeptical look. “Hey, for awhile there it looked like I might only get to eat food through a straw for the rest of my life. This breakfast is going to taste better to me than any meal you’ve ever tasted.”
Noah narrowed his eyes a little. “Are you allowed to eat whatever so soon after getting out? Shouldn’t you be taking it easy right now?”
Dallas mock-glared. “Excuse me, Mr. Caretaker. Doctor said I had to avoid undue stress for awhile. Not bacon.”
Noah managed not to roll his eyes now. “I just think you should be careful for awhile. It’s not worth risking your job or, you know, life over.”
“I don’t know, Noah,” Dallas grinned again. “It’s pretty damn good bacon.” He took a breath. “Besides, I’m not going back to the club.”
Noah didn’t outwardly react, but part of him almost felt like stomping on the brakes. “What?”
Dallas’s smile was quieter now, kinder. “I’m not going to fight anymore. You’re right, it’s not worth the risk. And,” he turned in his seat, fully facing Noah. “And you shouldn’t either.”
Noah felt his jaw clench, his fingers tighten over the steering wheel. It actually surprised him, he didn’t know he could still physically react like that anymore. Except when Luke was involved. How can he ignore me and still care about me? Why can’t he just hate me or love me? I don’t understand. No. No.
Noah didn’t think about that anymore. Never again. It was easier that way.
Dallas continued talking, unaware of Noah’s thoughts. “It’s just... Noah, kid, every Tuesday and Friday I go to that room, part of me hopes you don’t show up. Sometimes I regret it. Bringing you into that place.”
Noah kept his voice calm, ignoring the faint voice in his head that normally would want to mock this Good Will Hunting moment. “Why?”
Dallas spoke gently, and Noah couldn’t tell yet if it was aggravating or working. “I just think you’re giving better advice than you’re taking for yourself. This isn’t right for you, Noah. Not worth risking your life over.”
What life? Noah wanted to ask. But he kept quiet. He kept calm. He was good at that, at least. His eyes on the road, periodically checking the rearview mirror. Hands at ten and two position on the steering wheel. Foot steady on the gas pedal. He was in control.
And yet somehow, Dallas was still talking. “The club is a drug, man. Nothing more. It’s there for an immediate rush and, I don’t know, gratification. But it’s not going to sustain you or give you whatever it is you’re looking for.”
“I’m not looking for anything,” Noah murmured, wondering how much of that was a lie and how much of that was sadly the truth.
“That’s not any better,” Dallas replied. “The other guys in the club use it as an escape from life, not a place to shut down for life. You’re fading, Noah. Fast. And it ain’t pretty. I know losing Luke must hurt, but-”
“No,” Noah didn’t know his voice could get quieter, but it did. And still somehow was enough to interrupt Dallas. “You don’t know what I’ve lost.” Luke. Family. Me. Home. Everything.
Dallas regarded him sadly, tilting his head in acknowledgement. “Okay. That’s probably true, though- I have to say- not for lack of trying on my part. I wish I could know what was going on inside your head sometimes. But Noah... this fighting won’t fix anything. It’s a drug. If you make it your life, you’re just going to end up crashing and burning like any other addict.”
It was on the tip of Noah’s tongue- So? But he didn’t say it. He didn’t want to give Dallas anything. He didn’t want to be here right now. Check the mirrors. Ten and two. Eyes on the road. He couldn’t do this right now.
Dallas apparently had had enough. He smacked his hand on the dashboard, barely wincing when it pulled at his own stiff and sore muscles. “Fuck, Noah. Do you not see the trouble you’re in? Don’t you want to get out of this mess?”
He felt compelled to answer, feeling Dallas’s almost desperate glare on him. The same look Ali had sometimes. What the hell was wrong with these people? “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” Dallas insisted. “Either you want to get better or you don’t. But you know. And I want to hear you say it, because I honestly don’t know what your answer will be.”
“I don’t know,” he tried to say again, hearing his voice slip. Damn it.
Dallas shook his head. “If what happened to me had happened to you, what would you do? How would you feel about your life?”
“I don’t know!” Noah was yelling suddenly. Thank God the ‘survival instincts’ part of his body got the car stopped and in park before he turned to glare at Dallas. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t feel anything good about my life, is that what you want to hear me say? Fine.”
“Not good enough,” Dallas tried to lean in as much as his healing ribs would allow. “You’re a good person, Noah. Too good for this. Don’t give in to it. Seriously. Please.”
Noah was staring straight ahead again. They were pulled over by just outside of Old Town. Next to the apartment complex where Dallas lived. The road in front of him just stretched on and on into the horizon. No end in sight. Noah stared at it until his eyes blurred and he had to blink quickly. He still panicked at that sometimes. Like a quick jolt to the heart- why can’t I see?- but it always went away within a few seconds.
“Noah?” Dallas prodded.
He put the truck back into drive and made the turn into the parking lot, pulling up in front of Dallas’s door. “Do you need help getting inside?”
For a second Dallas looked immensely sad. But he just shook his head, picking up his bag from the floorboards at his feet. “No, man, I got it,” he said softly.
Noah nodded, still mostly facing forward. “Be careful. Have a good breakfast.” What else could he say? Or do? He liked Dallas- the guy didn’t patronize or bullshit him. But this, this was uncomfortably close to pity. And pity was stupid, because Noah thought he was doing a good enough job showing he didn’t care anymore. It all gave him a headache. He just wanted to go back to his bed and sleep the rest of the day away. Skip his classes, call out of work, forget the rest of the world existed...
************
Which is what he did. He made it back to the apartment either after Ali already left for work or before she got back from Casey’s. Either way, he was alone. He crawled sluggishly into his bed, kicking off his shoes but forgetting about the rest. Who cared if his shirt got wrinkled, right? He was suddenly exhausted, asleep within seconds of dropping his head to the pillow.
He was dreaming. He knew he was. It was one of those random flash of images things- like he used to have when he was blind. (As though the universe was just rubbing it in that he couldn’t see.) Images of Emma cooking, Aaron throwing a football around, Luke smirking at him, the girls playing ‘Excuse Me,’ Holden brushing down a horse, Luke again. Lily and Lucinda sharing a glass of wine together. Luke, Luke, Luke.
And then Noah himself. Fighting, always fighting. Someone yelling at him from off to the side, somewhere in the darkness surrounding him, but he couldn’t understand the words. He kept on fighting, attacking anything and anyone that came near him. Not letting them get close enough to do any damage to him. Protecting himself.
But something got through. Someone. They matched every punch he threw, getting closer and closer. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let anyone get close. He fought harder, desperately. He didn’t know he could feel sick in a dream, but he was nauseous, shaking, weak. He couldn’t get rid of this person.
Slowly, slowly, the faceless person took shape. No matter how hard he hit, how loud he yelled, it was still there. He. The ‘it’ was a he. A random face, maybe the first guy he ever fought in the club. But then he was Dallas, eyes unhappy. Then Reid, unimpressed. Then Luke. And Noah tried to stop, but his fist kept on hitting. He was fighting Luke. And Luke didn’t stop either, uncaring.
In another blink, Luke was gone (thank God), and now the face was... his own. Noah was torn between wanting to throw up and wanting to hit harder than he’d ever hit before. He deserved it. He wanted it. Finally. He pulled back, preparing a knockout, a kill shot-
And he woke up.
Noah shoved himself upwards, sitting up with a hollow gasp. He tried to breathe deeply, slowly, tried to ignore the heaviness that was forming a cinderblock in his chest. He blinked hard, but his vision stayed blurry. And then he realized why- he was crying.
Fuck. He was crying? He didn’t cry. He wasn’t supposed to. But now he couldn’t stop, and the tears kept coming. Noah leaned back against his headboard, wiping at his face, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.
It didn’t know how long he sat there, but finally he got his breathing back under control. His tears dried up soon after. Noah felt worn out, worse than after he’d been through a fight. Fuck. He hadn’t cried in a year, not since the last time he saw his father. He’d spent so long- all summer- pretending he felt nothing. Maybe something had to change.
I am Noah’s wasted life.
to be continued...