FIC: SINS OF THE FATHER 13/15
Title: Sins of the Father
Chapter: 13/15
Author: carolinablu85, also known as CarolinaBlue on vh.net or CarolinaBlu on the wiki (I know, I'm a fountain of creative names)
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Rating: PG 13-ish , mentions of abuse and non-con moments (not graphic)
Spoilers: set in spring 2009, after Luke and Noah battle housing discrimination but before Damian/evil twins. Thus, before the Colonel came back from the dead last year
Summary: Casey recognizes a dumb idea when he sees one, Noah has to talk about Alan, Luke has a chat with the Colonel.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. I own a pair of sneakers, a cellphone, and some other stuff. The show? Nope, not that.
Author's Note: The first major 'epic' story I ever wrote (and finished)!
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 /
“I know this is going to be a bit of a shock coming from me,” Casey hissed through teeth clenched tight. “But… this is a really dumb idea!”
Luke shook his head. “I have to do this.” He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, telling himself it was because of the cold and not his nerves. He leaned back against the hood of the car, watching as Casey paced back and forth in front of him.
“See, the thing is, you really don’t. You don’t have to do this. This is, see, this is ’cause you’re crazy,” Casey’s hands flailed in the air a little bit as he spoke. “I mean, do you know how long the list is of people who will kill us when they find out what…? It’s long, Luke. Very, very long.”
“Casey-”
“Let’s start with my family. No, your family’s bigger, let’s start with yours. Holden will kill us. Then your mom. Then Lucinda and Emma. Then Jack. Then Jade. Hell, Faith and Natalie could probably kick our asses if they really wanted to. Which they will. Then my family, and oh, by the way, my mom’s licensed to carry a gun! Not to mention Ali, who could punish me in ways that would be way worse than death. And then-”
“Casey, I have to do thi-”
Casey’s glare cut him off. “I’m not finished with the list yet. Never mind the guy you want to talk to actually has tried to kill you. But the most important name on the list?”
“I know, Case…” Luke tried to get a word in. Was this what it was like for other people when they tried to talk to Luke? It must be exhausting.
Casey had lost the glare, but the look on his face was worse now- really sad, and way more somber than Luke could ever picture Casey being. “Noah. How is Noah going to react when he finds out? He can’t take much more drama, man. And I don’t know if I can do this to him. Can you?”
Luke’s eyes had closed before the rest of him even registered the motion. Casey made a very valid point, one Luke had gone over in his head a million times in the last twenty-four hours. He had gone back and forth so much, wanting to forget the idea whenever Noah smiled or looked at him with trust in his eyes, but then…
But then Noah would flinch at sudden movements. And wake up shaking from nightmares, trying to hide his sadness and fear from Luke. And he would pick at his food, eating just enough to keep Emma and Janet happy. And yeah, maybe therapy was helping. But Noah was still hurt, and it was because of that bastard being held here at the station.
“I have to,” he said again, hoping the simple sincerity would get through to Casey. “I have to. I have to make sure he knows he’s not going to be able to hurt Noah again. I have to be the one to do it, to get… to get closure.”
Casey shook his head. “You make it sound like you’re breaking up with him,” he mumbled, more out of habit than actual comedic effect.
But Luke appreciated the effort and tried to smile. “Noah’s at therapy. My parents are working. It’s the perfect time to do this. I get in, get out, and no one has to know.”
“I’ll have to know, Luke. I just don’t know if I can let you do this! This is, this is…” He shook his head again. Staring into Luke’s face, he let out a giant and heaving sigh. “There’s no way I’m going to talk you out of this, is there?”
“No way,” Luke confirmed, pushing himself up and off his car and towards the back entrance of the station. He briefly eyed the memorial to Hal Munson, and it made him think of Will. It made him think of Hal as a father to Will and Adam and Parker, and Will as a father to Hallie. It made him think of Tom Hughes and Holden Snyder. How did Fate decide who got a good father and who didn’t? Why was it that some people who really deserved the best got stuck with the worst?
That thought bolstered his confidence even more. He had to do this. He would never- ever- let Noah get hurt by the Colonel again, and someone had to set the man straight (so to speak). Someone had to stand up to him, on Noah’s behalf. And who better than the person who loved Noah more than anyone else on Earth?
He opened the back door that had been propped open the tiniest bit earlier today (thanks to Casey). He turned back to his friend, who was still pacing in the parking lot and muttering to himself. “Well, Casey? Are you coming or not?” And with that, he slipped inside.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“If you had to sum it up in one or two words, what would you call it?” Marcus asked, leaning back comfortably in his desk chair.
“Why don’t you have a pen and pad like psychiatrists in TV and movies do?” Noah asked. “You don’t write anything down.”
“Because it’s more important that you understand the words than I do,” he answered immediately. “Now, if you had to sum-”
“Do you have a clever, neatly-wrapped answer for every question I ask?” Noah interrupted, also sitting back in his chair, no where near as comfortable. He waited for the snappy comeback, but none came.
Marcus just looked at him, one eyebrow raised, also waiting. When Noah finally settled down with a defeated sigh, the eyebrow lowered. “If you had to sum up your experience in that basement in one or two words, what would you say?”
“Oldboy,” Noah mumbled before he could stop himself. At the doctor’s questioning look: “It’s a Korean movie that- you know what? Never mind.” He stared down at his sneakers.
“So your first instinct is to equate it with a film.” Marcus proposed.
“I guess…” Noah mused, frowning a little. Just how much of his life did he compare to movies? “So what does that inkblot mean, Doc?”
Marcus once again brushed past the bitter humor. “You’re relating it to something that usually comforts you, which could mean you’re trying to cope with it. But honestly?” (And when had Marcus ever been anything but honest?) “I think you’re relating it to something that’s not real. That’s easy to distance yourself from, that you know the ending to and can control with a button on a remote. But life isn’t like that. What happened to you isn’t like that.”
Noah found himself actually curious by the doctor’s words. “So how should I be summing it up?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure there’s a right or wrong way, Noah. But I guess what I’m looking for right now? Literally sum it up. I want you to try to describe what happened to you in one or two words.”
Noah reached up, scratching the back of his head. How was that even possible? “How would you?”
The fact that Noah’s tone was genuinely curious and not confrontational allowed Marcus to answer. “Sexual assault.”
Noah stilled instantly. “I…” And then the room was too hot, too bright, too… spinny. His body went numb- including his lungs- and he couldn’t breathe. He was in some limbo between awake and oblivion when a voice pierced through the haze that was cocooned around him, reaching his ears.
“Seven, eight, nine- come on, Noah. Breathe, kid. Ten, eleven, twelve. Slow breaths, in and out…”
It was Rex Harrison’s voice. No, Dr. Weston. Dr. Weston. Therapy. Breathing exercises. Breathe. Just breathe. (Luke…) Think about Luke. Calm down. Breathe. By the time Noah could work air back into his lungs, Dr. Weston had counted up to thirty-three. Thirty-four. Thirty-five.
Another beat, and his senses started to come back to him. His heartbeat stopped pounding in his ears, and he could focus on the figure crouched down in front of him, watching him with concerned but calm eyes. Reassuring.
He nodded to the doctor, breaths finally back under some semblance of normalcy. Wrapping his arms around himself again, he willed his body to stop shaking as Dr. Weston stood and settled back down in his own chair. “Has that ever happened before?” the man asked knowingly. Face burning, Noah nodded, unable to look up. He wouldn’t say more unless directly asked; he couldn’t. “More than a few times?” Again he nodded- if you counted a couple times a year since he was fourteen as ‘more than a few.’ “How did you deal with them in the past?”
Noah shrugged, then remembered that Dr. Weston didn’t like when he shrugged. “I don’t know. They happen… and then they’re done and I wake up,” his voice sounded distant and toneless, even to his own ears.
Marcus wanted to explore that further, he really did, but it wasn’t on the agenda. At least not for today. He had to go back to the subject he had already, painfully, broached. He had counseled trauma victims before- once you start down that path you can’t back off, or the patient will repress it even further.
“This panic attack started when I said you were assaulted. But isn’t that what happened?” he pressed, voice uncharacteristically gentle. He was treading on new, dangerous ground and wanted to play it cautious at first. He spoke quietly, “Have you told anyone what Alan did to you?” He was surprised when Noah actually nodded. “Who?”
“Jack,” he said roughly, forcing the words out of his throat. “Jack, um, he’s… he gets it.”
Marcus nodded, wondering what had happened in that man’s past that helped him earn Noah’s trust. (He was not jealous. He wasn’t.) He was glad Noah was talking to someone, and especially glad that the someone was a Snyder- further proof for his argument that Noah was indeed a part of the family. “You haven’t told Luke.”
The shocked, terrified look on Noah’s face confirmed that pretty quickly. “No! No way. I-I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?” Marcus questioned casually, wanted to lean forward but worried about overwhelming his patient. They had made so much progress so far, a surprising amount given Noah’s history and his current trauma, but as any seasoned therapist knows- each session is its own battle, opening up another festering wound. And looking at Noah now, the almost physically-sickened look on his face, Marcus knew he was about to pour peroxide on the cut. “Why can’t you tell Luke? Do you think it’ll change how he feels about you?”
He nodded, eyes wide, looking so young in that moment. “I don’t know if it’ll change for better or worse, and I just can’t take the risk,” he whispered.
Marcus noticed he always whispered the things he was most afraid to say out loud. He purposefully made sure he didn’t lower his own pitch in counter-balance. “Maybe love is stronger than that,” he commented. “Maybe Luke will love you more for persevering despite what happened.”
Noah winced, thinking about what had happened. “Or maybe he won’t be able to look at me the same way ever again. I don’t know if I can handle not being with him anymore. If he decides he can’t-”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because I was-!” Noah stopped himself, biting his lower lip to keep quiet. But he had already started down this path, and he seemed to know that Marcus would make him talk anyway. “Because up until a week ago, I only belonged to Luke. And now… now he…”
“He who?” Marcus cut in. In all the time they had spent together, Noah had never once said the name of the man who had attacked him. “He- I want you to tell me who ‘he’ is.”
“Alan.” Noah flinched even as he answered, tears starting to slowly fill his eyes. And as he said the name, every detail, ever flash of memory and feeling from being in that basement came back to him, threatened to swamp him, drown him and pull him under. He gasped and almost doubled over, but Marcus was there to catch him, holding his shoulders gently, reminding him to breathe.
“Don’t let it take over, Noah. Don’t let it take control,” he murmured. Noah concentrated on his voice, on breathing deeply and counting. With each number, he grabbed hold of the fear just a little bit tighter, pushed away the panic, and centered himself. He was surprised when he looked up to see Dr. Weston smiling triumphantly. “That was great, Noah.”
Noah sniffed, wiping at his eyes. God, he hated crying. “What the hell was great about that?”
Marcus’s smile wasn’t deterred. “Do you know what you just did? You took control. You were feeling overwhelmed, and you fought back. You didn’t retreat, you stayed here. And you did it all by yourself. I’m so proud of you, Noah.” The young man’s face, so pale before from his panic attacks, now flushed red. He shook his head and dropped his gaze, mumbling something intelligible. Marcus’s smile just widened that much further. “And you should be proud too. You should.”
Noah shook his head again, but at least now his breathing was even and slow, face turning back to its original color. He clasped his hands in his lap, clenching and relaxing his right hand continuously.
Marcus watched him for a bit before continuing. “See how that feels? Now you know what to do if it happens again. And gradually, if you know how to control the panic, it’ll happen less and less. You won’t have to suffer those attacks anymore.”
“It… it gets better,” Noah stated more than questioned, trying to convince himself. Marcus let him do it, not answering. He didn’t need to. Noah finally looked up at him again, nodding to say he was (relatively) alright.
“Now that you know you can handle this,” Marcus began slowly, “I want you to do something for me. I want you to tell me what happened in the cabin. What Alan did to you.”
Noah’s first instinct was to shake his head. No, his first instinct was to bolt out of the room and run until his legs gave out and never come back. But instead he sat there, feeling his chest rise and fall semi-steadily. For a long while Marcus just sat watching him. He had all the time in the world- they both did- to figure this out.
When Noah finally spoke, even so quiet as he was, it was almost startling. “The… the first couple of times, he didn’t do much. He kissed me and, um, felt at me,” Noah grimaced, he couldn’t figure out any other way to describe it. “But that was it. Either he got interrupted or he’d leave, saying he’d be back for more later.” His voice cracked a lot but he bravely continued on. “After I tried to escape and got sick… he started to take off my shirt before I could stop him.”
Marcus nodded, but still said nothing. This wasn’t about offering insight or advice. This was about Noah feeling like he could talk to Marcus, was safe here. This was about Noah letting go. He watched with more pride as Noah controlled his breathing and willed away the anxiety threatening to cloud his vision.
“B-but after I stole the cell phone, my dad… my dad, he…” Noah’s hands were shaking again. Marcus’s eyes narrowed, he had no idea how involved Noah’s father was with Alan’s assault on Noah. “My dad said he’d done all he could, couldn’t convince me that I was wrong. That being gay was wrong.”
“Did he let Alan… Did he leave Alan alone with you on purpose?” Marcus had to ask, fighting to keep the shock and disgust out of his voice. The boy’s own father-
Noah nodded, another tear escaping to trail down his face. “He said I had no one to blame but myself.”
Marcus wanted nothing more than to give the poor kid a hug, but he couldn’t just yet. “Do you believe him?”
Noah shook his head forcefully, agonized. “I-I didn’t want it. I didn’t. I didn’t want him anywhere near me. I tried…”
“Of course, Noah. You were chained up, for God’s sake. No one thinks you allowed this to happen. I hope you don’t either.” Marcus frowned when Noah just shrugged. “Do you want to take a break? Maybe-”
“No,” Noah’s voice held more conviction than Marcus thought possible. “No. If I stop now, I’ll never…” he trailed off.
Marcus nodded. “Do you want to know why I think you should talk about it? Why I think talking will help?” Noah nodded, blue eyes begging for that answer. “Because if you can get all the way through the experience without losing yourself, then you’ll be able to put it behind you.”
Off of Noah’s doubtful, almost recriminating, glance, Marcus explained, “I’m not talking about forgetting it or pretending it never happened. I’m talking about accepting that it did, accepting that it’s a part of you now.” He leaned forward, emphasizing his certainty. “It’s a chapter in your life now, but it isn’t the entire story. It’s just a part. And the rest of you can live on, healthy and happy. You can be healthy and happy again, Noah.”
There was no stopping the tears now, though Noah didn’t seem to feel them fall. Or at least he didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. He sat very still, eyes unconsciously straying to Marcus’s photograph again. He didn’t comment on it this time, thankfully. He was about to suggest again that they take a break when Noah began to speak.
“He held me down and tied my feet together. I couldn’t move at all. And he was all over me, kissing me and… touching-” a moment’s pause to control his breaths. “I thought I could turn my brain off and go away for awhile, but he wouldn’t let me. Every time I tried, he hit me. In the face or stomach or on my chest. He made sure I was paying attention.”
Marcus was starting to wish he still had Scotch hidden in his desk drawer. “What else?” he forced himself to ask.
“He had a knife. And h-he cut my shirt open. Cut it off. And I kept yelling at him, at my dad wherever he was, telling them to stop, to leave me alone. But then he-” Noah’s head sort of tilted to the side as he spoke, like he couldn’t understand what had happened. His eyes squinted, pained. “He tied something around my mouth so I couldn’t talk. It was my shirt. He gagged me with my own shirt, can you believe that?”
Marcus could, he just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to believe a lot of things he had heard over the years, but they were true. He didn’t say anything, waiting for Noah to go on.
Noah could almost see the memories from the basement clamoring for attention in front of him. He took a measuring breath before pushing them away. Control them, don’t let them control you. “It felt like he was everywhere then. And he could do whatever he wanted. He told me he would do whatever he wanted. And I couldn’t stop him,” Noah looked up at the doctor, begging him to believe him.
“I know, Noah,” Marcus reassured calmly. “No one thinks you wanted it to happen. No one thinks you should have- could have- resisted more.”
Noah blew out a shaky breath. “He said he was going to draw it out. Enjoy it for a couple days. So he wasn’t going to, to do everything right away. He just wanted to… wanted to show me that I belonged to him now. That my old life as over.”
“Do you think that’s true?” Marcus inquired.
He bit his lip, thinking it over. “Maybe not now. But it was true then. And it was true that day at the hospital.”
“What happened that day?”
“I froze. I didn’t know where I was, if any of it was even real. I’d had some messed up dreams while I was sick. For a second I thought maybe… But it was real. And he was on me again, all over. His hands w-were everywhere. And it hurt, and he wasn’t trying to draw it out this time, and I was so scared that he was finally going to-” He cut himself off. “He kept talking, saying we were never over, I was never going to be safe.”
“That’s what he wanted, Noah. He wanted you to give up.”
“And I did,” Noah whispered.
“No!” Marcus’s voice was louder than he had intended, and he could have kicked himself when Noah flinched and pushed himself back even farther in the chair. Much quieter and calmer, “No, Noah. You didn’t give up. You protected Luke from him, protected yourself. And you’re here, aren’t you? You haven’t cut yourself off or lashed out at anyone. You’re still you.”
Noah’s words were painstakingly slow and clear. “He was, um, he was undoing my pants when Luke walked in. Luke stopped him. If he hadn’t I would have let him-”
“No,” Marcus cut in again. “I’m going to say this as many times as it takes for you to accept it, Noah. A common feeling that trauma victims experience is that they didn’t resist enough, that their attacker succeeded in some way because they didn’t fight hard enough. Male assault victims in particular have a hard time with this. But it’s a common mistake, Noah. You didn’t ‘let’ Alan do anything to you. He forced himself on you, but you survived. You can’t let him win now.”
“Then why do I feel like he’s still here?” Noah asked, voice breaking. “Why am I still scared every time I walk around a corner, thinking he’s on the other side? Sleep with a nightlight every night because if it’s dark I can’t be sure I’m alone? Am I ever going to be able to kiss Luke again- really kiss him, like he deserves- without feeling A-Alan?” He stumbled on the man’s name, but managed to say it without going into another panic attack. Noah might not have noticed that, but Marcus did. He felt a small surge of triumph; they were making progress.
“I’m sorry, Noah, I don’t know. I don’t want to pretend like I have all the answers. It’s going to take time, I can tell you that. But from what I’ve seen of you, what I know of you, I know you’re strong enough to get past this.” Noah looked at him so incredulously, Marcus had to smile even as inwardly he shook his head at the lack of self-esteem he was constantly seeing. “It may not seem like it, but you’ve already come an impressively far way. Please, don’t give up now.” Noah was still quiet. Marcus moved his chair closer, gripping the arms tightly. “Please.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Luke had been standing pretty much stock-still for the last two minutes. He hadn’t really thought about what state the Colonel would be in when Luke finally confronted him, but this probably would have been at the bottom of his list. He wasn’t looking at the psycho-murderous-homophobic-freak he had chalked Noah’s father up to being. He wasn’t looking at a man who had spent his entire adult life from eighteen on in the Army, a commander of thousands of men, a war hero.
No, this was just an old man, defeated and sad. Handcuffed to an uncomfortable metal chair in a padded cell. Alone. Luke stared at him some more, wondering when it was that the man’s sandy-colored hair had gotten so gray looking. Winston’s head was down, chin nearly touching his chest, and he had yet to acknowledge Luke.
Part of Luke wondered if he was faking, trying to fool Luke into letting his guard down, but a bigger part of him could actually feel the desolation coming from this man. Luke didn’t feel like he was in any immediate danger. And besides, Casey was right outside the door, ready and (mostly) willing to lend a hand if need be.
“Colonel Mayer,” Luke finally spoke up, said his name firmly. Not loudly, not confrontationally, just steady and calm. Luke was in control.
The Colonel looked up, somewhat startled, squinting at the figure standing by the door. Luke was thrown when the man chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Of course. Of course it’s you. The hits just keep on coming, huh?”
“Interesting choice of words,” Luke commented wryly, staying where he was by the door. It wasn’t because he was scared or intimidated, it was because he wanted the Colonel to see that Luke could come and go as he pleased. Could stand on his own two legs. That was like a double middle finger to the man chained to a chair in front of him, the same man who had put him in a wheelchair almost two years ago. “I heard you tried to kill yourself. For the first time, I’m sorry your plan failed.”
“Where’s Noah?” the man asked.
“No!” Luke cut in, his voice raising against his will. He lowered it as quickly as possible, not wanting to worry Casey or call any attention. “No. You don’t get to say his name anymore. You don’t get to ask where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s with. You failed, Colonel. He may have your DNA, but Noah will never be your son. He’s better than that. Better than you. You don’t deserve him.”
Winston snorted. “Who would want him?”
Luke could feel his hand mold into a fist and used ever ounce of the self-control he didn’t even know he possessed to relax and not attack the man. “Have you not gotten a clue? Have you seen the number of people in this town who fought to find him, help him get better?” The colonel snorted again, and Luke couldn’t help but add, “And no matter what, I would always want him. I love him. And he loves me, and I hope that just kills you inside.”
“Is that why you’re here now, freak?” the Colonel spat out. “Did you come to point and laugh? To tell me I didn’t win? What?”
Luke shook his head, though he couldn’t help but flinch a little at the venom in the man’s voice, how it seemed to infect like a snakebite. He had another flash of memory- of Noah, feverish in the hospital, scared his father would get mad he was sick. Luke couldn’t even imagine what the reality of that must have been like. It gave him the strength to answer.
“I wanted to tell you to stay away from Noah from now on. Don’t try to contact him, don’t you dare try to hurt him, don’t even think of him ever again. He’s not your family anymore, he’s mine. My family is going to take care of him now. We’re going to be the ones to love him. And we’ll be there for him every step of the way for the rest of his life. He doesn’t need you. I wanted you to know that.”
Winston shook his head, disgusted. “Good riddance, then. The boy is more trouble than he’s worth.”
Luke slammed his fist back against the wall. Thankfully it was padded and didn’t make a lot of noise, but it was still enough to startle the Colonel. “Noah is one of the best people I know. Despite the torture it must have been, growing up with a piece of trash father like you, Noah is caring and respectful, intelligent, principled… He puts family- my family- first.” He gave a few sarcastic claps in the man’s direction. “Congratulations Colonel, your son grew up to be one of the finest men possible.”
The Colonel’s angry bark of laughter shook Luke more than he wanted to admit. “A man? Really? And I should take your word for it? His boyfriend?”
The pure frustration bubbling up in Luke’s chest almost smothered him in that moment. “You still don’t get it. In the last two years, Noah has gotten more people to love and care for him than you’ve gotten in your entire miserable, lonely life. What does that tell you? And-” he continued quickly over the Colonel’s protests, “when you die, that whole ‘Mayer’ dynasty will die with you. Because Noah will still be here, still be gay, and still be with me. He’s a Snyder now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“So you told him?” Jack asked casually as Noah sat down, a little shakily, on the ground next to him.
Noah nodded. “Not, like, every detail,” he hadn’t even told Jack every detail, “but enough, I guess. Enough for him to get all sad and reassuring.”
“He’s not allowed to be sad? It’s not a happy story, kid,” Jack pointed out, handing over a slice of bread as the ducks hopped out of the pond and came closer.
Noah shrugged. “I’m just… he thinks I should tell Luke-”
“So do I.”
“-But if that’s how the therapist reacts, how will Luke?” He laughed softly, without much humor. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”
“I think you’ve proven you can handle more than you think, Noah,” Jack replied quietly. Noah flushed red and looked down, concentrating instead on the group of little ducklings who were pecking bread crumbs out of his hand.
Jack continued, knowing that even when he didn’t talk, Noah was always listening. “Having to tell Carly- and Janet later- was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But one of the smartest. From then on, whenever I thought about Julia and what she did, I knew I wasn’t alone. I had someone who loved me regardless and would rearrange the planets if it made me happy. You can’t tell me Luke isn’t that person for you, you just can’t.”
Noah never said a word, but the quick nod and the hand that tried to wipe away a tear without Jack noticing (though of course he did) was answer enough.
Jack smiled affectionately, leaning in a little closer. “You two have something really special, kid. One of those real stand-the-test-of-time kind of things. It’s definitely, definitely, something stronger than this. This is a time that can show you just how strong the relationship is.”
Noah dusted off his hands as the ducks waddled away back to the water. He pulled his cell phone out, staring at it. “So, basically… I should call Luke?”
Jack chuckled. He put his hand on Noah’s shoulder as he stood, steadying himself. Then he clapped the young man on the back and turned to head back to the house. “Basically? Yeah.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Casey paced back and forth- he was getting really good at pacing- and occasionally stopped to put his ear to the door of the ‘Crazy Cell,’ as he called it. He had memories of running around as a little kid with Adam and Will in this room, literally bouncing off the walls for fun. And now Luke was in there talking to a psycho. A real, honest-to-God psycho.
There was way too much wrong with this situation. And they had about twenty more minutes before a cop would come back to check on the Colonel. “Come on Luke,” he whispered, resisting the urge to peek in.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang. He really didn’t want to answer it. It could be anyone- his mom, his dad, Ali, his future-self calling to gloat about how dumb this idea was, anyone. But the ringing would definitely tip someone off to what he and Luke were doing…
“Ohhhhhh crap,” he groaned, seeing the name on the screen. He flipped it open slowly, putting a giant fake smile on his face for no reason at all. “Hey Noah!”
“Casey, have- have you seen Luke?” Noah’s voice sounded a little strained. Casey was concerned, but there were so many reasons why Noah could be tense right now, Casey didn’t have the time or brainpower to figure out just what it was.
“Luke? Um, no, I don’t see him here. Just me, you know, hanging out. What are you doing?” He could pretty much kiss his chances of winning an Academy Award goodbye.
Noah paused for a long time before continuing, confused. “I… I just need to talk to Luke. If you see him, could you get him to call me? It’s, it’s important.” His voice was a little shaky, and that centered Casey enough to realize that Luke had to leave and get home. Right now. Being with Noah was more important than being with the Colonel.
“I will, Noah. I promise, okay?” He calmed his voice down, trying to sound reassuring. Thank God this wasn’t a cartoon, where there’d be an angel and a devil on his shoulders. The angel would so be trying to kick him in the face right now. Though, with his luck, it’d just be two devils fighting for power.
“Okay. Thanks Casey. For, for everything.” And with that Noah hung up. And with that, Casey wanted to slam his head into something hard. This was such a dumb idea…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Winston shook his head, still sitting so still and calm in that chair. “So you’re with him now, big deal.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke was also maintaining his position, leaning casually back against the wall next to the door.
“You don’t know Noah like I do, boy. He's weak. One thing will scare him off, and you’ll never get him back. You might as well give up right now.” He smirked. The bastard actually smirked at him, like he was doing Luke a favor.
Luke closed his eyes to fight off the absolute rage he felt towards this sorry excuse for a person. “No. That’s the Noah you know. You think you know. But we love each other, and if you can’t scare him off from us, then I think we’ll do just fine. You’ve done enough damage, don’t you think?”
“What are you talking about now?” Winston almost groaned, like he was bored.
“I know, Colonel. Maybe not specifics, but I know you used to hurt him. But I just don’t know why. What could an eight-year-old have done that was so bad, you had to beat him? What kind of father could do that?” Luke shook his head. “I’ve hated you on his behalf for awhile, but now… looking at you, knowing that Noah is still this wonderful person in spite of everything… I pity you. I really do.”
“Why you little-” Winston showed some life now, but before he could continue, the door flew open.
Casey stood in the doorway, looking upset and a little winded. “Luke. We have to go. Now.”
Luke narrowed his eyes, a little confused, but nodded. “Sounds good. We’re finished here.”
Just as he reached the door, Winston growled behind him. “If that’s what my boy’s turning out to be, you can have him.”
Before Luke could even react, Casey had stormed forward, grabbed Winston by his shirt, and shoved the chair back a few feet. “Casey!”
Casey stared the Colonel hard in the face. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch. Noah is one of the last genuinely good people left in this town, hell, in this world. You should be thanking God you got him for a son. You could’ve had a lot worse.” And he smirked then, angry and sharp. “You could’ve had me.” He stood, moved back to Luke at the doorway. Just before he slammed the door shut, he turned back to the defeated and handcuffed man. “And I’m even straight.”
Luke was shocked into silence for a few moments as he followed Casey towards back exit. Finally he shook himself back into awareness. “‘One of the last genuinely good people?’ I’m not?” he finally broke the silence.
“No,” Casey answered, voice wobbling a little bit. “You suck. You suck so much for making me do this. If I didn’t love you, dude? I’d hate you a lot right now,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Luke couldn’t help but grin. “You need a haircut,” he commented. He was strangely calm, strangely at peace, as they opened the door to the back parking lot.
“I am going to kick your scrawny, rich-kid ass all the way back to- Noah…” Casey trailed off.
Luke frowned, confused. “To Noah?” Then he stepped out from behind Casey and saw the boyfriend in question sitting on the bed of his truck, pale and expectant and angry. “Noah.”
Noah pushed himself off the trailer, came to stand a few feet away from Luke, staring at him. Very quiet. Casey surreptitiously inched away, towards the safety of his own vehicle. Luke just stood there, slightly terrified, no way of knowing just what Noah would do next. Yell at him? Kick him in the shin? Leave and never come back? For some reason Luke doubted he’d strike up a conversation about The Final Sacrifice, or-
And then, without a word, Noah shoved himself into Luke’s body, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Hard. Okay, Luke hadn’t exactly been expecting that one either. In the time it took him to register what was happening, bringing his own hands up to Noah’s hips, and kiss him back, Noah was already pulling away, eyes flashing with a fire Luke hadn’t seen in far too long.
“You’re an idiot, Snyder, you know that?” Noah’s voice was hoarse, pained. “Are you trying to kill me? Are you trying to put yourself and Casey in danger? God, you could have been arrested, Luke!” Luke had to smile at that- leave it to Noah to be worried that someone might be breaking the law.
But the smile just seemed to anger Noah further. “In what universe did you think it was a good idea to go visit him? And keep it from me? Did you think I would be okay with it? Obviously not, or you wouldn’t have kept this a secret from me! You were alone in a room with my dad, Luke! You could have been… could have…” He choked for a second, eyes shut tight, and pulled Luke close to him again.
Luke moved his hands up from Noah’s hips to his face, his thumbs rubbing gently at the skin under Noah’s almost neon-blue eyes. “I’m sorry, baby, I am. But I had to. I had to do this. Please…”
And then Noah was kissing him again, as though he couldn’t breathe and the only air he could find was coming from Luke. Luke might have been seeing stars, he couldn’t be sure. He did know that this was one of the best kisses he’d ever had, made better by the fact that he’d gone without it for too long. Not that he blamed Noah for that, but this was…
He could taste the tears on Noah’s face, and suddenly he had to make it up to him. He had to erase the tears. He pushed himself even closer, halfway surprised that Noah didn’t tense up. Even more surprised when his lips parted just a little more and allowed Luke to gently slide his tongue inside. He was letting Luke in, in more ways than one. Hadn’t Luke realized a few days ago that there were a million different ways to say I love you? A million and one, now.
Finally they both came up for air, Luke refusing to let go of his boyfriend’s face, even as Noah’s hands slid down from his hair to clasp behind Luke’s back. “Don’t. Ever. Do that. Again,” he whispered, attempting a smile but looking really worn out.
Luke could relate to the feeling. “The visit? Or the kiss? Because the kiss was-”
“Shut up, Snyder,” Noah cut in, smiling a little more genuinely, kissing him again. This was much softer and sweeter and make Luke want to cry from about a hundred different emotions.
“So, uh, the PDA is back and stronger than ever?” a timid voice called out from behind Noah. They both turned to see Casey, who was sitting in his car with the door open, as though ready to make a quick getaway.
“As for you…” Noah started, warningly, though his eyes were much calmer and- dare Luke think it?- happier.
Casey held up both hands. “If that’s how you punish people, I got it. I’m sorry. Lesson learned.”
Noah smiled, still not letting go of Luke. “Lesson learned?” Luke wasn’t planning on letting go either.
Casey nodded earnestly. “Come on, how about we go to Al’s or something? Milkshakes? Hey, I’ll even buy.”
Luke nodded enthusiastically, wrapping his own arm tightly around Noah’s back. He looked up at Noah, who looked a little nervous. Luke felt his smile falter a little. Noah hadn’t really been out and about in Oakdale yet. Was he ready? Would this be too much too soon? But then Noah blew out a shaky breath, nodding. “Okay.”
Casey climbed out of his car, coming to stand next to them. He studied Noah for a second before nodding in return. “Seriously, guys, I mean it. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Luke smiled at his friend- their friend- and then looked back to Noah. Noah looked back and forth between them for a second, suddenly looking scared. “Did he do anything to you guys? Did he say- I’m sorry! If he hurt-”
Luke was about to grab his boyfriend again, shake some sense (or kiss some sense) into him, but Casey somehow got there first. He put one hand, firm and comforting, on Noah’s shoulder. “Noah, stop. He’s an asshole of epic proportions. Don’t you dare waste any more time tying yourself down to him. You’re Noah, bottom line. I don’t give a damn about him, just you. Got it?”
If Luke’s grin got any wider, it would start to hurt. “Same here,” he whispered into Noah’s ear. Noah looked at both of them again, seemingly at a loss for words.
“Got it?” Casey asked again.
Finally he nodded, his lips curling up into a tentative smile that was so Noah that Luke almost felt his legs give out at the sheer love he felt for him. Noah nodded again. “Lesson learned,” he answered quietly, steering both him and Luke towards his truck and the promise of milkshakes. For right now, that was all he needed.
TO BE CONTINUED! Coming Up: Luke and Noah do some digging, an old romance gets explained, another session with Marcus has Noah re-examining his childhood...
Chapter: 13/15
Author: carolinablu85, also known as CarolinaBlue on vh.net or CarolinaBlu on the wiki (I know, I'm a fountain of creative names)
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Rating: PG 13-ish , mentions of abuse and non-con moments (not graphic)
Spoilers: set in spring 2009, after Luke and Noah battle housing discrimination but before Damian/evil twins. Thus, before the Colonel came back from the dead last year
Summary: Casey recognizes a dumb idea when he sees one, Noah has to talk about Alan, Luke has a chat with the Colonel.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. I own a pair of sneakers, a cellphone, and some other stuff. The show? Nope, not that.
Author's Note: The first major 'epic' story I ever wrote (and finished)!
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 /
“I know this is going to be a bit of a shock coming from me,” Casey hissed through teeth clenched tight. “But… this is a really dumb idea!”
Luke shook his head. “I have to do this.” He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, telling himself it was because of the cold and not his nerves. He leaned back against the hood of the car, watching as Casey paced back and forth in front of him.
“See, the thing is, you really don’t. You don’t have to do this. This is, see, this is ’cause you’re crazy,” Casey’s hands flailed in the air a little bit as he spoke. “I mean, do you know how long the list is of people who will kill us when they find out what…? It’s long, Luke. Very, very long.”
“Casey-”
“Let’s start with my family. No, your family’s bigger, let’s start with yours. Holden will kill us. Then your mom. Then Lucinda and Emma. Then Jack. Then Jade. Hell, Faith and Natalie could probably kick our asses if they really wanted to. Which they will. Then my family, and oh, by the way, my mom’s licensed to carry a gun! Not to mention Ali, who could punish me in ways that would be way worse than death. And then-”
“Casey, I have to do thi-”
Casey’s glare cut him off. “I’m not finished with the list yet. Never mind the guy you want to talk to actually has tried to kill you. But the most important name on the list?”
“I know, Case…” Luke tried to get a word in. Was this what it was like for other people when they tried to talk to Luke? It must be exhausting.
Casey had lost the glare, but the look on his face was worse now- really sad, and way more somber than Luke could ever picture Casey being. “Noah. How is Noah going to react when he finds out? He can’t take much more drama, man. And I don’t know if I can do this to him. Can you?”
Luke’s eyes had closed before the rest of him even registered the motion. Casey made a very valid point, one Luke had gone over in his head a million times in the last twenty-four hours. He had gone back and forth so much, wanting to forget the idea whenever Noah smiled or looked at him with trust in his eyes, but then…
But then Noah would flinch at sudden movements. And wake up shaking from nightmares, trying to hide his sadness and fear from Luke. And he would pick at his food, eating just enough to keep Emma and Janet happy. And yeah, maybe therapy was helping. But Noah was still hurt, and it was because of that bastard being held here at the station.
“I have to,” he said again, hoping the simple sincerity would get through to Casey. “I have to. I have to make sure he knows he’s not going to be able to hurt Noah again. I have to be the one to do it, to get… to get closure.”
Casey shook his head. “You make it sound like you’re breaking up with him,” he mumbled, more out of habit than actual comedic effect.
But Luke appreciated the effort and tried to smile. “Noah’s at therapy. My parents are working. It’s the perfect time to do this. I get in, get out, and no one has to know.”
“I’ll have to know, Luke. I just don’t know if I can let you do this! This is, this is…” He shook his head again. Staring into Luke’s face, he let out a giant and heaving sigh. “There’s no way I’m going to talk you out of this, is there?”
“No way,” Luke confirmed, pushing himself up and off his car and towards the back entrance of the station. He briefly eyed the memorial to Hal Munson, and it made him think of Will. It made him think of Hal as a father to Will and Adam and Parker, and Will as a father to Hallie. It made him think of Tom Hughes and Holden Snyder. How did Fate decide who got a good father and who didn’t? Why was it that some people who really deserved the best got stuck with the worst?
That thought bolstered his confidence even more. He had to do this. He would never- ever- let Noah get hurt by the Colonel again, and someone had to set the man straight (so to speak). Someone had to stand up to him, on Noah’s behalf. And who better than the person who loved Noah more than anyone else on Earth?
He opened the back door that had been propped open the tiniest bit earlier today (thanks to Casey). He turned back to his friend, who was still pacing in the parking lot and muttering to himself. “Well, Casey? Are you coming or not?” And with that, he slipped inside.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“If you had to sum it up in one or two words, what would you call it?” Marcus asked, leaning back comfortably in his desk chair.
“Why don’t you have a pen and pad like psychiatrists in TV and movies do?” Noah asked. “You don’t write anything down.”
“Because it’s more important that you understand the words than I do,” he answered immediately. “Now, if you had to sum-”
“Do you have a clever, neatly-wrapped answer for every question I ask?” Noah interrupted, also sitting back in his chair, no where near as comfortable. He waited for the snappy comeback, but none came.
Marcus just looked at him, one eyebrow raised, also waiting. When Noah finally settled down with a defeated sigh, the eyebrow lowered. “If you had to sum up your experience in that basement in one or two words, what would you say?”
“Oldboy,” Noah mumbled before he could stop himself. At the doctor’s questioning look: “It’s a Korean movie that- you know what? Never mind.” He stared down at his sneakers.
“So your first instinct is to equate it with a film.” Marcus proposed.
“I guess…” Noah mused, frowning a little. Just how much of his life did he compare to movies? “So what does that inkblot mean, Doc?”
Marcus once again brushed past the bitter humor. “You’re relating it to something that usually comforts you, which could mean you’re trying to cope with it. But honestly?” (And when had Marcus ever been anything but honest?) “I think you’re relating it to something that’s not real. That’s easy to distance yourself from, that you know the ending to and can control with a button on a remote. But life isn’t like that. What happened to you isn’t like that.”
Noah found himself actually curious by the doctor’s words. “So how should I be summing it up?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure there’s a right or wrong way, Noah. But I guess what I’m looking for right now? Literally sum it up. I want you to try to describe what happened to you in one or two words.”
Noah reached up, scratching the back of his head. How was that even possible? “How would you?”
The fact that Noah’s tone was genuinely curious and not confrontational allowed Marcus to answer. “Sexual assault.”
Noah stilled instantly. “I…” And then the room was too hot, too bright, too… spinny. His body went numb- including his lungs- and he couldn’t breathe. He was in some limbo between awake and oblivion when a voice pierced through the haze that was cocooned around him, reaching his ears.
“Seven, eight, nine- come on, Noah. Breathe, kid. Ten, eleven, twelve. Slow breaths, in and out…”
It was Rex Harrison’s voice. No, Dr. Weston. Dr. Weston. Therapy. Breathing exercises. Breathe. Just breathe. (Luke…) Think about Luke. Calm down. Breathe. By the time Noah could work air back into his lungs, Dr. Weston had counted up to thirty-three. Thirty-four. Thirty-five.
Another beat, and his senses started to come back to him. His heartbeat stopped pounding in his ears, and he could focus on the figure crouched down in front of him, watching him with concerned but calm eyes. Reassuring.
He nodded to the doctor, breaths finally back under some semblance of normalcy. Wrapping his arms around himself again, he willed his body to stop shaking as Dr. Weston stood and settled back down in his own chair. “Has that ever happened before?” the man asked knowingly. Face burning, Noah nodded, unable to look up. He wouldn’t say more unless directly asked; he couldn’t. “More than a few times?” Again he nodded- if you counted a couple times a year since he was fourteen as ‘more than a few.’ “How did you deal with them in the past?”
Noah shrugged, then remembered that Dr. Weston didn’t like when he shrugged. “I don’t know. They happen… and then they’re done and I wake up,” his voice sounded distant and toneless, even to his own ears.
Marcus wanted to explore that further, he really did, but it wasn’t on the agenda. At least not for today. He had to go back to the subject he had already, painfully, broached. He had counseled trauma victims before- once you start down that path you can’t back off, or the patient will repress it even further.
“This panic attack started when I said you were assaulted. But isn’t that what happened?” he pressed, voice uncharacteristically gentle. He was treading on new, dangerous ground and wanted to play it cautious at first. He spoke quietly, “Have you told anyone what Alan did to you?” He was surprised when Noah actually nodded. “Who?”
“Jack,” he said roughly, forcing the words out of his throat. “Jack, um, he’s… he gets it.”
Marcus nodded, wondering what had happened in that man’s past that helped him earn Noah’s trust. (He was not jealous. He wasn’t.) He was glad Noah was talking to someone, and especially glad that the someone was a Snyder- further proof for his argument that Noah was indeed a part of the family. “You haven’t told Luke.”
The shocked, terrified look on Noah’s face confirmed that pretty quickly. “No! No way. I-I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?” Marcus questioned casually, wanted to lean forward but worried about overwhelming his patient. They had made so much progress so far, a surprising amount given Noah’s history and his current trauma, but as any seasoned therapist knows- each session is its own battle, opening up another festering wound. And looking at Noah now, the almost physically-sickened look on his face, Marcus knew he was about to pour peroxide on the cut. “Why can’t you tell Luke? Do you think it’ll change how he feels about you?”
He nodded, eyes wide, looking so young in that moment. “I don’t know if it’ll change for better or worse, and I just can’t take the risk,” he whispered.
Marcus noticed he always whispered the things he was most afraid to say out loud. He purposefully made sure he didn’t lower his own pitch in counter-balance. “Maybe love is stronger than that,” he commented. “Maybe Luke will love you more for persevering despite what happened.”
Noah winced, thinking about what had happened. “Or maybe he won’t be able to look at me the same way ever again. I don’t know if I can handle not being with him anymore. If he decides he can’t-”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because I was-!” Noah stopped himself, biting his lower lip to keep quiet. But he had already started down this path, and he seemed to know that Marcus would make him talk anyway. “Because up until a week ago, I only belonged to Luke. And now… now he…”
“He who?” Marcus cut in. In all the time they had spent together, Noah had never once said the name of the man who had attacked him. “He- I want you to tell me who ‘he’ is.”
“Alan.” Noah flinched even as he answered, tears starting to slowly fill his eyes. And as he said the name, every detail, ever flash of memory and feeling from being in that basement came back to him, threatened to swamp him, drown him and pull him under. He gasped and almost doubled over, but Marcus was there to catch him, holding his shoulders gently, reminding him to breathe.
“Don’t let it take over, Noah. Don’t let it take control,” he murmured. Noah concentrated on his voice, on breathing deeply and counting. With each number, he grabbed hold of the fear just a little bit tighter, pushed away the panic, and centered himself. He was surprised when he looked up to see Dr. Weston smiling triumphantly. “That was great, Noah.”
Noah sniffed, wiping at his eyes. God, he hated crying. “What the hell was great about that?”
Marcus’s smile wasn’t deterred. “Do you know what you just did? You took control. You were feeling overwhelmed, and you fought back. You didn’t retreat, you stayed here. And you did it all by yourself. I’m so proud of you, Noah.” The young man’s face, so pale before from his panic attacks, now flushed red. He shook his head and dropped his gaze, mumbling something intelligible. Marcus’s smile just widened that much further. “And you should be proud too. You should.”
Noah shook his head again, but at least now his breathing was even and slow, face turning back to its original color. He clasped his hands in his lap, clenching and relaxing his right hand continuously.
Marcus watched him for a bit before continuing. “See how that feels? Now you know what to do if it happens again. And gradually, if you know how to control the panic, it’ll happen less and less. You won’t have to suffer those attacks anymore.”
“It… it gets better,” Noah stated more than questioned, trying to convince himself. Marcus let him do it, not answering. He didn’t need to. Noah finally looked up at him again, nodding to say he was (relatively) alright.
“Now that you know you can handle this,” Marcus began slowly, “I want you to do something for me. I want you to tell me what happened in the cabin. What Alan did to you.”
Noah’s first instinct was to shake his head. No, his first instinct was to bolt out of the room and run until his legs gave out and never come back. But instead he sat there, feeling his chest rise and fall semi-steadily. For a long while Marcus just sat watching him. He had all the time in the world- they both did- to figure this out.
When Noah finally spoke, even so quiet as he was, it was almost startling. “The… the first couple of times, he didn’t do much. He kissed me and, um, felt at me,” Noah grimaced, he couldn’t figure out any other way to describe it. “But that was it. Either he got interrupted or he’d leave, saying he’d be back for more later.” His voice cracked a lot but he bravely continued on. “After I tried to escape and got sick… he started to take off my shirt before I could stop him.”
Marcus nodded, but still said nothing. This wasn’t about offering insight or advice. This was about Noah feeling like he could talk to Marcus, was safe here. This was about Noah letting go. He watched with more pride as Noah controlled his breathing and willed away the anxiety threatening to cloud his vision.
“B-but after I stole the cell phone, my dad… my dad, he…” Noah’s hands were shaking again. Marcus’s eyes narrowed, he had no idea how involved Noah’s father was with Alan’s assault on Noah. “My dad said he’d done all he could, couldn’t convince me that I was wrong. That being gay was wrong.”
“Did he let Alan… Did he leave Alan alone with you on purpose?” Marcus had to ask, fighting to keep the shock and disgust out of his voice. The boy’s own father-
Noah nodded, another tear escaping to trail down his face. “He said I had no one to blame but myself.”
Marcus wanted nothing more than to give the poor kid a hug, but he couldn’t just yet. “Do you believe him?”
Noah shook his head forcefully, agonized. “I-I didn’t want it. I didn’t. I didn’t want him anywhere near me. I tried…”
“Of course, Noah. You were chained up, for God’s sake. No one thinks you allowed this to happen. I hope you don’t either.” Marcus frowned when Noah just shrugged. “Do you want to take a break? Maybe-”
“No,” Noah’s voice held more conviction than Marcus thought possible. “No. If I stop now, I’ll never…” he trailed off.
Marcus nodded. “Do you want to know why I think you should talk about it? Why I think talking will help?” Noah nodded, blue eyes begging for that answer. “Because if you can get all the way through the experience without losing yourself, then you’ll be able to put it behind you.”
Off of Noah’s doubtful, almost recriminating, glance, Marcus explained, “I’m not talking about forgetting it or pretending it never happened. I’m talking about accepting that it did, accepting that it’s a part of you now.” He leaned forward, emphasizing his certainty. “It’s a chapter in your life now, but it isn’t the entire story. It’s just a part. And the rest of you can live on, healthy and happy. You can be healthy and happy again, Noah.”
There was no stopping the tears now, though Noah didn’t seem to feel them fall. Or at least he didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. He sat very still, eyes unconsciously straying to Marcus’s photograph again. He didn’t comment on it this time, thankfully. He was about to suggest again that they take a break when Noah began to speak.
“He held me down and tied my feet together. I couldn’t move at all. And he was all over me, kissing me and… touching-” a moment’s pause to control his breaths. “I thought I could turn my brain off and go away for awhile, but he wouldn’t let me. Every time I tried, he hit me. In the face or stomach or on my chest. He made sure I was paying attention.”
Marcus was starting to wish he still had Scotch hidden in his desk drawer. “What else?” he forced himself to ask.
“He had a knife. And h-he cut my shirt open. Cut it off. And I kept yelling at him, at my dad wherever he was, telling them to stop, to leave me alone. But then he-” Noah’s head sort of tilted to the side as he spoke, like he couldn’t understand what had happened. His eyes squinted, pained. “He tied something around my mouth so I couldn’t talk. It was my shirt. He gagged me with my own shirt, can you believe that?”
Marcus could, he just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to believe a lot of things he had heard over the years, but they were true. He didn’t say anything, waiting for Noah to go on.
Noah could almost see the memories from the basement clamoring for attention in front of him. He took a measuring breath before pushing them away. Control them, don’t let them control you. “It felt like he was everywhere then. And he could do whatever he wanted. He told me he would do whatever he wanted. And I couldn’t stop him,” Noah looked up at the doctor, begging him to believe him.
“I know, Noah,” Marcus reassured calmly. “No one thinks you wanted it to happen. No one thinks you should have- could have- resisted more.”
Noah blew out a shaky breath. “He said he was going to draw it out. Enjoy it for a couple days. So he wasn’t going to, to do everything right away. He just wanted to… wanted to show me that I belonged to him now. That my old life as over.”
“Do you think that’s true?” Marcus inquired.
He bit his lip, thinking it over. “Maybe not now. But it was true then. And it was true that day at the hospital.”
“What happened that day?”
“I froze. I didn’t know where I was, if any of it was even real. I’d had some messed up dreams while I was sick. For a second I thought maybe… But it was real. And he was on me again, all over. His hands w-were everywhere. And it hurt, and he wasn’t trying to draw it out this time, and I was so scared that he was finally going to-” He cut himself off. “He kept talking, saying we were never over, I was never going to be safe.”
“That’s what he wanted, Noah. He wanted you to give up.”
“And I did,” Noah whispered.
“No!” Marcus’s voice was louder than he had intended, and he could have kicked himself when Noah flinched and pushed himself back even farther in the chair. Much quieter and calmer, “No, Noah. You didn’t give up. You protected Luke from him, protected yourself. And you’re here, aren’t you? You haven’t cut yourself off or lashed out at anyone. You’re still you.”
Noah’s words were painstakingly slow and clear. “He was, um, he was undoing my pants when Luke walked in. Luke stopped him. If he hadn’t I would have let him-”
“No,” Marcus cut in again. “I’m going to say this as many times as it takes for you to accept it, Noah. A common feeling that trauma victims experience is that they didn’t resist enough, that their attacker succeeded in some way because they didn’t fight hard enough. Male assault victims in particular have a hard time with this. But it’s a common mistake, Noah. You didn’t ‘let’ Alan do anything to you. He forced himself on you, but you survived. You can’t let him win now.”
“Then why do I feel like he’s still here?” Noah asked, voice breaking. “Why am I still scared every time I walk around a corner, thinking he’s on the other side? Sleep with a nightlight every night because if it’s dark I can’t be sure I’m alone? Am I ever going to be able to kiss Luke again- really kiss him, like he deserves- without feeling A-Alan?” He stumbled on the man’s name, but managed to say it without going into another panic attack. Noah might not have noticed that, but Marcus did. He felt a small surge of triumph; they were making progress.
“I’m sorry, Noah, I don’t know. I don’t want to pretend like I have all the answers. It’s going to take time, I can tell you that. But from what I’ve seen of you, what I know of you, I know you’re strong enough to get past this.” Noah looked at him so incredulously, Marcus had to smile even as inwardly he shook his head at the lack of self-esteem he was constantly seeing. “It may not seem like it, but you’ve already come an impressively far way. Please, don’t give up now.” Noah was still quiet. Marcus moved his chair closer, gripping the arms tightly. “Please.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Luke had been standing pretty much stock-still for the last two minutes. He hadn’t really thought about what state the Colonel would be in when Luke finally confronted him, but this probably would have been at the bottom of his list. He wasn’t looking at the psycho-murderous-homophobic-freak he had chalked Noah’s father up to being. He wasn’t looking at a man who had spent his entire adult life from eighteen on in the Army, a commander of thousands of men, a war hero.
No, this was just an old man, defeated and sad. Handcuffed to an uncomfortable metal chair in a padded cell. Alone. Luke stared at him some more, wondering when it was that the man’s sandy-colored hair had gotten so gray looking. Winston’s head was down, chin nearly touching his chest, and he had yet to acknowledge Luke.
Part of Luke wondered if he was faking, trying to fool Luke into letting his guard down, but a bigger part of him could actually feel the desolation coming from this man. Luke didn’t feel like he was in any immediate danger. And besides, Casey was right outside the door, ready and (mostly) willing to lend a hand if need be.
“Colonel Mayer,” Luke finally spoke up, said his name firmly. Not loudly, not confrontationally, just steady and calm. Luke was in control.
The Colonel looked up, somewhat startled, squinting at the figure standing by the door. Luke was thrown when the man chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Of course. Of course it’s you. The hits just keep on coming, huh?”
“Interesting choice of words,” Luke commented wryly, staying where he was by the door. It wasn’t because he was scared or intimidated, it was because he wanted the Colonel to see that Luke could come and go as he pleased. Could stand on his own two legs. That was like a double middle finger to the man chained to a chair in front of him, the same man who had put him in a wheelchair almost two years ago. “I heard you tried to kill yourself. For the first time, I’m sorry your plan failed.”
“Where’s Noah?” the man asked.
“No!” Luke cut in, his voice raising against his will. He lowered it as quickly as possible, not wanting to worry Casey or call any attention. “No. You don’t get to say his name anymore. You don’t get to ask where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s with. You failed, Colonel. He may have your DNA, but Noah will never be your son. He’s better than that. Better than you. You don’t deserve him.”
Winston snorted. “Who would want him?”
Luke could feel his hand mold into a fist and used ever ounce of the self-control he didn’t even know he possessed to relax and not attack the man. “Have you not gotten a clue? Have you seen the number of people in this town who fought to find him, help him get better?” The colonel snorted again, and Luke couldn’t help but add, “And no matter what, I would always want him. I love him. And he loves me, and I hope that just kills you inside.”
“Is that why you’re here now, freak?” the Colonel spat out. “Did you come to point and laugh? To tell me I didn’t win? What?”
Luke shook his head, though he couldn’t help but flinch a little at the venom in the man’s voice, how it seemed to infect like a snakebite. He had another flash of memory- of Noah, feverish in the hospital, scared his father would get mad he was sick. Luke couldn’t even imagine what the reality of that must have been like. It gave him the strength to answer.
“I wanted to tell you to stay away from Noah from now on. Don’t try to contact him, don’t you dare try to hurt him, don’t even think of him ever again. He’s not your family anymore, he’s mine. My family is going to take care of him now. We’re going to be the ones to love him. And we’ll be there for him every step of the way for the rest of his life. He doesn’t need you. I wanted you to know that.”
Winston shook his head, disgusted. “Good riddance, then. The boy is more trouble than he’s worth.”
Luke slammed his fist back against the wall. Thankfully it was padded and didn’t make a lot of noise, but it was still enough to startle the Colonel. “Noah is one of the best people I know. Despite the torture it must have been, growing up with a piece of trash father like you, Noah is caring and respectful, intelligent, principled… He puts family- my family- first.” He gave a few sarcastic claps in the man’s direction. “Congratulations Colonel, your son grew up to be one of the finest men possible.”
The Colonel’s angry bark of laughter shook Luke more than he wanted to admit. “A man? Really? And I should take your word for it? His boyfriend?”
The pure frustration bubbling up in Luke’s chest almost smothered him in that moment. “You still don’t get it. In the last two years, Noah has gotten more people to love and care for him than you’ve gotten in your entire miserable, lonely life. What does that tell you? And-” he continued quickly over the Colonel’s protests, “when you die, that whole ‘Mayer’ dynasty will die with you. Because Noah will still be here, still be gay, and still be with me. He’s a Snyder now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“So you told him?” Jack asked casually as Noah sat down, a little shakily, on the ground next to him.
Noah nodded. “Not, like, every detail,” he hadn’t even told Jack every detail, “but enough, I guess. Enough for him to get all sad and reassuring.”
“He’s not allowed to be sad? It’s not a happy story, kid,” Jack pointed out, handing over a slice of bread as the ducks hopped out of the pond and came closer.
Noah shrugged. “I’m just… he thinks I should tell Luke-”
“So do I.”
“-But if that’s how the therapist reacts, how will Luke?” He laughed softly, without much humor. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”
“I think you’ve proven you can handle more than you think, Noah,” Jack replied quietly. Noah flushed red and looked down, concentrating instead on the group of little ducklings who were pecking bread crumbs out of his hand.
Jack continued, knowing that even when he didn’t talk, Noah was always listening. “Having to tell Carly- and Janet later- was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But one of the smartest. From then on, whenever I thought about Julia and what she did, I knew I wasn’t alone. I had someone who loved me regardless and would rearrange the planets if it made me happy. You can’t tell me Luke isn’t that person for you, you just can’t.”
Noah never said a word, but the quick nod and the hand that tried to wipe away a tear without Jack noticing (though of course he did) was answer enough.
Jack smiled affectionately, leaning in a little closer. “You two have something really special, kid. One of those real stand-the-test-of-time kind of things. It’s definitely, definitely, something stronger than this. This is a time that can show you just how strong the relationship is.”
Noah dusted off his hands as the ducks waddled away back to the water. He pulled his cell phone out, staring at it. “So, basically… I should call Luke?”
Jack chuckled. He put his hand on Noah’s shoulder as he stood, steadying himself. Then he clapped the young man on the back and turned to head back to the house. “Basically? Yeah.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Casey paced back and forth- he was getting really good at pacing- and occasionally stopped to put his ear to the door of the ‘Crazy Cell,’ as he called it. He had memories of running around as a little kid with Adam and Will in this room, literally bouncing off the walls for fun. And now Luke was in there talking to a psycho. A real, honest-to-God psycho.
There was way too much wrong with this situation. And they had about twenty more minutes before a cop would come back to check on the Colonel. “Come on Luke,” he whispered, resisting the urge to peek in.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang. He really didn’t want to answer it. It could be anyone- his mom, his dad, Ali, his future-self calling to gloat about how dumb this idea was, anyone. But the ringing would definitely tip someone off to what he and Luke were doing…
“Ohhhhhh crap,” he groaned, seeing the name on the screen. He flipped it open slowly, putting a giant fake smile on his face for no reason at all. “Hey Noah!”
“Casey, have- have you seen Luke?” Noah’s voice sounded a little strained. Casey was concerned, but there were so many reasons why Noah could be tense right now, Casey didn’t have the time or brainpower to figure out just what it was.
“Luke? Um, no, I don’t see him here. Just me, you know, hanging out. What are you doing?” He could pretty much kiss his chances of winning an Academy Award goodbye.
Noah paused for a long time before continuing, confused. “I… I just need to talk to Luke. If you see him, could you get him to call me? It’s, it’s important.” His voice was a little shaky, and that centered Casey enough to realize that Luke had to leave and get home. Right now. Being with Noah was more important than being with the Colonel.
“I will, Noah. I promise, okay?” He calmed his voice down, trying to sound reassuring. Thank God this wasn’t a cartoon, where there’d be an angel and a devil on his shoulders. The angel would so be trying to kick him in the face right now. Though, with his luck, it’d just be two devils fighting for power.
“Okay. Thanks Casey. For, for everything.” And with that Noah hung up. And with that, Casey wanted to slam his head into something hard. This was such a dumb idea…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Winston shook his head, still sitting so still and calm in that chair. “So you’re with him now, big deal.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke was also maintaining his position, leaning casually back against the wall next to the door.
“You don’t know Noah like I do, boy. He's weak. One thing will scare him off, and you’ll never get him back. You might as well give up right now.” He smirked. The bastard actually smirked at him, like he was doing Luke a favor.
Luke closed his eyes to fight off the absolute rage he felt towards this sorry excuse for a person. “No. That’s the Noah you know. You think you know. But we love each other, and if you can’t scare him off from us, then I think we’ll do just fine. You’ve done enough damage, don’t you think?”
“What are you talking about now?” Winston almost groaned, like he was bored.
“I know, Colonel. Maybe not specifics, but I know you used to hurt him. But I just don’t know why. What could an eight-year-old have done that was so bad, you had to beat him? What kind of father could do that?” Luke shook his head. “I’ve hated you on his behalf for awhile, but now… looking at you, knowing that Noah is still this wonderful person in spite of everything… I pity you. I really do.”
“Why you little-” Winston showed some life now, but before he could continue, the door flew open.
Casey stood in the doorway, looking upset and a little winded. “Luke. We have to go. Now.”
Luke narrowed his eyes, a little confused, but nodded. “Sounds good. We’re finished here.”
Just as he reached the door, Winston growled behind him. “If that’s what my boy’s turning out to be, you can have him.”
Before Luke could even react, Casey had stormed forward, grabbed Winston by his shirt, and shoved the chair back a few feet. “Casey!”
Casey stared the Colonel hard in the face. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch. Noah is one of the last genuinely good people left in this town, hell, in this world. You should be thanking God you got him for a son. You could’ve had a lot worse.” And he smirked then, angry and sharp. “You could’ve had me.” He stood, moved back to Luke at the doorway. Just before he slammed the door shut, he turned back to the defeated and handcuffed man. “And I’m even straight.”
Luke was shocked into silence for a few moments as he followed Casey towards back exit. Finally he shook himself back into awareness. “‘One of the last genuinely good people?’ I’m not?” he finally broke the silence.
“No,” Casey answered, voice wobbling a little bit. “You suck. You suck so much for making me do this. If I didn’t love you, dude? I’d hate you a lot right now,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Luke couldn’t help but grin. “You need a haircut,” he commented. He was strangely calm, strangely at peace, as they opened the door to the back parking lot.
“I am going to kick your scrawny, rich-kid ass all the way back to- Noah…” Casey trailed off.
Luke frowned, confused. “To Noah?” Then he stepped out from behind Casey and saw the boyfriend in question sitting on the bed of his truck, pale and expectant and angry. “Noah.”
Noah pushed himself off the trailer, came to stand a few feet away from Luke, staring at him. Very quiet. Casey surreptitiously inched away, towards the safety of his own vehicle. Luke just stood there, slightly terrified, no way of knowing just what Noah would do next. Yell at him? Kick him in the shin? Leave and never come back? For some reason Luke doubted he’d strike up a conversation about The Final Sacrifice, or-
And then, without a word, Noah shoved himself into Luke’s body, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Hard. Okay, Luke hadn’t exactly been expecting that one either. In the time it took him to register what was happening, bringing his own hands up to Noah’s hips, and kiss him back, Noah was already pulling away, eyes flashing with a fire Luke hadn’t seen in far too long.
“You’re an idiot, Snyder, you know that?” Noah’s voice was hoarse, pained. “Are you trying to kill me? Are you trying to put yourself and Casey in danger? God, you could have been arrested, Luke!” Luke had to smile at that- leave it to Noah to be worried that someone might be breaking the law.
But the smile just seemed to anger Noah further. “In what universe did you think it was a good idea to go visit him? And keep it from me? Did you think I would be okay with it? Obviously not, or you wouldn’t have kept this a secret from me! You were alone in a room with my dad, Luke! You could have been… could have…” He choked for a second, eyes shut tight, and pulled Luke close to him again.
Luke moved his hands up from Noah’s hips to his face, his thumbs rubbing gently at the skin under Noah’s almost neon-blue eyes. “I’m sorry, baby, I am. But I had to. I had to do this. Please…”
And then Noah was kissing him again, as though he couldn’t breathe and the only air he could find was coming from Luke. Luke might have been seeing stars, he couldn’t be sure. He did know that this was one of the best kisses he’d ever had, made better by the fact that he’d gone without it for too long. Not that he blamed Noah for that, but this was…
He could taste the tears on Noah’s face, and suddenly he had to make it up to him. He had to erase the tears. He pushed himself even closer, halfway surprised that Noah didn’t tense up. Even more surprised when his lips parted just a little more and allowed Luke to gently slide his tongue inside. He was letting Luke in, in more ways than one. Hadn’t Luke realized a few days ago that there were a million different ways to say I love you? A million and one, now.
Finally they both came up for air, Luke refusing to let go of his boyfriend’s face, even as Noah’s hands slid down from his hair to clasp behind Luke’s back. “Don’t. Ever. Do that. Again,” he whispered, attempting a smile but looking really worn out.
Luke could relate to the feeling. “The visit? Or the kiss? Because the kiss was-”
“Shut up, Snyder,” Noah cut in, smiling a little more genuinely, kissing him again. This was much softer and sweeter and make Luke want to cry from about a hundred different emotions.
“So, uh, the PDA is back and stronger than ever?” a timid voice called out from behind Noah. They both turned to see Casey, who was sitting in his car with the door open, as though ready to make a quick getaway.
“As for you…” Noah started, warningly, though his eyes were much calmer and- dare Luke think it?- happier.
Casey held up both hands. “If that’s how you punish people, I got it. I’m sorry. Lesson learned.”
Noah smiled, still not letting go of Luke. “Lesson learned?” Luke wasn’t planning on letting go either.
Casey nodded earnestly. “Come on, how about we go to Al’s or something? Milkshakes? Hey, I’ll even buy.”
Luke nodded enthusiastically, wrapping his own arm tightly around Noah’s back. He looked up at Noah, who looked a little nervous. Luke felt his smile falter a little. Noah hadn’t really been out and about in Oakdale yet. Was he ready? Would this be too much too soon? But then Noah blew out a shaky breath, nodding. “Okay.”
Casey climbed out of his car, coming to stand next to them. He studied Noah for a second before nodding in return. “Seriously, guys, I mean it. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Luke smiled at his friend- their friend- and then looked back to Noah. Noah looked back and forth between them for a second, suddenly looking scared. “Did he do anything to you guys? Did he say- I’m sorry! If he hurt-”
Luke was about to grab his boyfriend again, shake some sense (or kiss some sense) into him, but Casey somehow got there first. He put one hand, firm and comforting, on Noah’s shoulder. “Noah, stop. He’s an asshole of epic proportions. Don’t you dare waste any more time tying yourself down to him. You’re Noah, bottom line. I don’t give a damn about him, just you. Got it?”
If Luke’s grin got any wider, it would start to hurt. “Same here,” he whispered into Noah’s ear. Noah looked at both of them again, seemingly at a loss for words.
“Got it?” Casey asked again.
Finally he nodded, his lips curling up into a tentative smile that was so Noah that Luke almost felt his legs give out at the sheer love he felt for him. Noah nodded again. “Lesson learned,” he answered quietly, steering both him and Luke towards his truck and the promise of milkshakes. For right now, that was all he needed.
TO BE CONTINUED! Coming Up: Luke and Noah do some digging, an old romance gets explained, another session with Marcus has Noah re-examining his childhood...