Disclaimer – I don't own the boys, most unfortunately. If I did, you would be seeing a hell of a lot more… action, from them. The characters and settings used or mentioned within this story are not my own. Don't sue!
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Luke stared out of his bedroom window before abruptly shutting his blinds, casting his room into pitch-black darkness. Looking outside and seeing the bright sky and the glowing sun created an unbearable contrast between what he was seeing and what he was feeling. Staring into the simplistic perfection of nature, Luke couldn't help but want to destroy it, destroy it all for being so backwards, so ignorant of his loss, so wrong.
Nothing should look at peace and happy – nothing. How could it? His little brother, his five year old brother who had just been finger painting on the sofa yesterday, was gone. Gone, and not just to go visit his grandmother, or stop by the daycare. He was dead, alone in some coroner's office with nameless mortician's touching him, proclaiming cause of his death like it wasn't a big deal; like Ethan hadn't taken a part of Luke with him.
Luke squeezed his eyes tightly shut, only to see images from the previous day flash across the backs of his eyelids as if they were branded there. He shook his head back and forth and moaned, trying to dislodge the memories that were playing through his mind as if they were on repeat. "No," he mumbled, not wanting to relive what he knew was coming. "No, please…"
As if on cue, Luke felt strong arms wrap around him from behind, pulling him against a solid chest. Briefly, he struggled; his mind so wrapped up in another world that he forgot who was in the room with him. At the soft "shhhh," whispered in his ear, Luke went limp into Noah's arms so quickly that he frightened Noah for a second.
Just as quickly, Luke turned in Noah's embrace so they were face to face. He stared into Noah's eyes, looking for any sign of pity. What Luke found instead – pain, sadness, love – threatened to shatter whatever whole part of him was left into pieces.
Grinding his teeth so that the sob working its way up his throat wouldn't escape out of him, Luke leaned forward until his forehead rested against Noah's. Even though he knew that his breath in Noah's face must have been uncomfortable, and that Luke's neck was growing sore from being strained upwards, Luke refused to move. If he did, if he allowed Noah to truly embrace him, Luke feared that he would fall to pieces. He forced himself not to move - that is, until Noah's hand gently began rubbing his back.
The soothing touch reminded Luke of all the times that he had done the exact thing for Ethan, including one time when Ethan had been throwing up after eating twenty-four mini donuts from a local fair in one sitting. One memory led to another, and soon Luke's mind was cascaded with memories of his little brother – when Ethan had been born, when he had taken his first steps, ridden his first bike, the first time he had said Luke's name – and Luke found that he couldn't resist the beckoning call of Noah's warm, hard body.
Determined that he would not cry and treat Noah like he had at the hospital the day previous, Luke slipped his head from Noah's forehead to the crook of his neck, allowing his arms to wrap around Noah's waist. He immediately felt Noah respond to his movements by wrapping his legs around Luke's waist, sliding one hand around his back and reaching another into his hair, effectively cocooning him.
Desperately trying to stay calm, Luke focused on Noah, and Noah only; feeling his warmth, smelling the spicy scent of his cologne, and feeling every centimeter of where they touched. His mental explorations of Noah's body led him to his chest, where Luke could feel the steady beat of Noah's heart against him. Knowing that Noah was here, and alive, while Ethan was alone and dead caused Luke's control to snap like an overplayed guitar string.
Luke heard a low keening noise was filling the room – that wasn't him, was it? He also found that he couldn't bring himself to give a damn about either the noise or his weakness. He knew that he shouldn't be leaning on Noah like this; Noah was mourning, too. But Noah was there, and the knowledge that he wasn't going anywhere struck a chord within Luke too deep to deny.
He wasn't allowing himself to cry, some internal compromise that made no sense, even to him. But the dry sobs that were wracking his whole body did more than enough to show Noah the pain that Luke was going through, and the pain that was sure to come. Luke lost track of time; minutes were kept track of by how many times his body convulsed. Eventually, when his body decided to cooperate, and Luke temporarily gained control of his emotions, he focused on what Noah was whispering in his ear.
He was murmuring reassurances, simple phrases such as "Let it out, Luke", "We'll make it through this", and "I know it's not fair." As Luke lay there entwined with Noah, listening to the 'comforting words' Noah was mumbling, Luke found that he was inexplicably filled with rage. In one swift movement, he ripped himself away from Noah's embrace and began pacing the room. Noah's confused and slightly worried gaze infuriated Luke even more, and he turned to Noah and just screamed, knowing he was being unfair but unable to stop himself.
"Goddammit, Noah! I know it's not fair – he's gone! How can any of this be fair? I was there; I should have done more. When that car went off the bridge-" Luke's voice broke, before resonating through the small bedroom once more. "When that car went off the bridge, I should have been smarter. I should have grabbed Ethan, protected him, pulled him out of that damn backseat and not worried about my own worthless life! I should have made that worthless ass fucking stop the car before it even started! I-I-I should've, should've –"
The grief closing up Luke's vocal chords drove his rage higher, and he turned sharply and slammed his fist into the surface closest to him, which happened to be a wall. He barely felt the pain, and absently noticed the blood that slid down his knuckles before dripping onto his plush carpet. He punched the wall again, enjoying the sensation of hitting something, anything; letting out his anger and hatred and fear and regret and hurt.
With every punch, Noah moved closer to Luke, until he grabbed Luke and pulled him back into his embrace. Luke turned around and furiously punched every inch of Noah that he could reach; the punches were lacking strength, and even though Noah barely felt them, he knew that he would have bruises in the morning.
The second that Noah was sure that Luke had worn himself out, he grabbed Luke's fists and pinned them down to his sides. Raising his head, Noah fixed his eyes on the top of Luke's bowed head and stated "Look at me." It wasn't a question, but a demand, and Luke knew better than to refuse.
Slowly, Luke raised his head until he was looking into Noah's eyes again – partly defiant, partly worried, but mostly too grief stricken to care. Noah leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on Luke's forehead, feeling all of the fight drain out of Luke's body at the simple touch. The quivering body that stood a mere centimeters from Noah's own reassured Noah that Luke had not meant any of the words that he had flung at Noah; although Noah was still reeling from what Luke had said.
Grabbing Luke's hands, Noah pulled him to the side of the bed before stripping him down. Although Noah's hands grazed Luke's skin more than once as he removed his shirt and jeans, there was nothing sexual in the act – it was about Noah helping Luke, comforting Luke.
When Luke was standing in front of Noah in nothing but his boxers, Noah quickly shed his clothing before pulling back the cover on Luke's bed. Noah slid in, patting beside him and hoarsely saying "Come here."
Luke slid in next to Noah, pausing briefly when he was next to him. Was he still mad at Noah? His question was quickly answered when Noah grabbed his waist and pulled Luke backwards, pressing his back against Noah's chest. Noah tangled their feet together and wrapped his arms around Luke, holding him in place.
For long minutes the room was quiet, until Luke's voice broke the silence. "Noah, I'm sorry –"
"Shh," Noah hushed, tightening his grip on Luke. "It's okay, just go to sleep."
Any further protests Luke had about his previous behavior were quickly forgotten as his eyes shut against his will, and he was carried into an uneasy sleep.
When Noah was sure that Luke was asleep, he carefully pulled away from Luke and walked towards the bathroom in order to freshen up. Splashing water on his face, he looked into the mirror at his haggard reflection and wondered how things could have turned out like they did.
Yesterday, Noah had been watching Barney with Ethan while Luke teased him - the Snyder farm had been in its usual state of chaos. In just twenty-four hours, everything had changed; Luke was nearly catatonic, Emma couldn't stop baking, and Lily and Holden were still at the hospital, "making arrangements." The only thing Noah was grateful for was that Faith and Natalie had been in Paris with Lucinda for the weekend; Noah wasn't sure if his boyfriend could have coped with having his sisters around, too.
A soft groan emanated from the bed, tearing Noah from his thoughts. He quickly walked over to the side of the bed, frowning when he saw the pained expression on Luke's sleeping face. Not wanting to wake him up, but not wanting Luke to have to relive what had happened through a nightmare, Noah leaned down and gently kissed his forehead; smiling slightly when Luke's body instantly relaxed.
Lying down on top of the covers, Noah placed his hand over Luke's before returning to his thoughts. He'd never been more scared than he was when he had received a phone call from Detective Margo Hughes, telling him that there had been an "accident." When he had arrived at the hospital after practically running from Java and seen Holden and Lily holding each other crying, he had assumed the worst. Even now, lying in bed with Luke, he couldn't put a name to the emotions that had almost overwhelmed him – it hurt too much.
When he had found Luke though, and realized that it wasn't Luke who had died, the combination of horror and relief that rose within him had threatened to bring him to his knees. All he could remember was holding Luke, and comforting him; trying to let him know that nothing was his fault.
Noah had insisted on being with Luke when he had to issue his statement; he wasn't sure if Luke would be able to do it on his own. What he learned almost broke his heart. Noah paused as he thought back to Luke's statement.
"I was driving home with Ethan when my car broke down. It would have been a couple hours walk back to Oakdale, and I couldn't call to get someone to pick us up because I forgot to charge my phone." Luke explained, his eyes focused on something in the distance that neither Noah nor the police officer could see.
"I had been about to throw Ethan on my back and start walking towards Oakdale when Kevin showed up. He said he could give us a ride back to town, and I figured 'why not?' After all, he wouldn't do anything, right? Not with Ethan, not with my innocent brother." Here, Luke's voice broke, and it was several seconds before he continued speaking; Noah's hand on his back being the only thing that was keeping him grounded.
"We'd been driving for a couple of minutes when Kevin started acting really weird. He kept fidgeting, and swerving the car across the road. I remember, I said 'Man, is everything okay?' That seemed to upset him even more, and he just kept swerving the car back and forth, back and forth."
"Luke, you're doing great, you're almost done," Noah murmured, seeing how close Luke was to a breakdown. As much as Noah hated this situation, hated making Luke talk about what was killing him inside, he knew it had to be done.
"I was sitting there when I smelled it," Luke continued, his voice shaking. "The entire truck reeked of vodka; I don't know how I missed it. If I had been paying more attention, then maybe…" Luke's voice trailed off as his eyes glazed over, showing him a million different ways he could have acted.
At Noah's whispered reassurances, Luke drew in another breath and continued. "I asked Kevin to pull over, I begged him to. But he was acting crazy, mumbling about how it was 'the right thing to do' and that he 'had no other choice.' " Luke was talking faster and faster, as if he needed to say whatever was coming next.
"I tried to wrestle the wheel away from Kevin when I realized that he wasn't going to stop. I remember reaching out, because I was going to grab the steering wheel again and make him stop when he jerked the wheel." Luke's voice rose in a crescendo and he was trembling despite Noah's touch.
"I don't remember what happened; all I remember is flying downhill and having the entire truck shake. Ethan was crying from the backseat. And I wanted to tell him that it would be alright, that I would make it alright, when the entire car seemed to shriek. Then – then it was quiet." Luke buried his face in his hands, muffling his words as he continued to speak. "I got out of the car and ran to the passenger's door, and I tried to help Ethan – I tried. But I couldn't, and he stared at me, and he wasn't there but I could see his eyes, and he was looking at me and –" Luke's words became unintelligible as his entire body shook; Noah grabbed him and pulled him into his arms, resting head under his chin, wishing there was something more he could do to ease Luke's pain, but knowing that was impossible.
Noah's recollections were interrupted when he heard Luke's phone vibrate, indicating he had a call. Noah had turned off his ringer as soon as Luke had fallen asleep, so that he wouldn't be woken up. Grabbing the phone, Noah left the room and answered it, knowing that Luke wouldn't care.
"Hello?" He asked warily, highly doubting that the call was bringing any news that he wanted to hear.
"Is Luke Snyder there?" An unfamiliar voice asked.
"No, he's not, but you're talking to his family. Can I help you?" Noah responded, his face whitening under his tan as he listened to what the man had to say.
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Apologizing in advance for the cliffhanger! Let me know what you think? I accept any kind of review!