Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.

*Notes – I am so incredibly sorry for how long this took! I have the chapters pre-written, I just wasn't able to get onto the site due to my new laptop. The problem's fixed now, and hopefully posting's will be much more steady.

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Noah?" Luke asked again, his voice achingly vulnerable. "What's Dallas talking about?"

Noah wanted to Luke to look at him so he could see the emotions he knew would be swirling in those chocolate-brown eyes, but Luke's gaze was fastened on the phone in his hand. The only sounds in the room was Noah's heavy breathing, and the occasional beep from Noah's phone as Luke sifted through it.

Luke closed the phone and stared at it; Noah could see him slowly piecing together what had happened over the past week. There was more than enough information in the texts for Luke to figure it out. Finally, finally, Luke lifted his head, his chin titling defiantly at Noah. There was more than just the remnants of confusion in Luke's expression; there was hurt and the beginnings of grim understanding, something that tore at Noah.

"Luke, listen to me." Noah began, finding his voice. "It's not what it looks like…"

"Have you been lying to me?" Luke asked, his eyes shimmering with the beginnings of tears. "Answer me that, Noah. Have you lied to me?"

"Luke, let me explain!" Noah begged, only to be cut off by Luke yet again.

"Noah, answer the damn question. Have. You. Been. Lying. To. Me." Any hint of vulnerability was gone from Luke's tone. Instead, there was only a hard, icy quality to it. Noah hadn't heard that tone used with him since their last break up, and he hated it.

"Yes." He answered brokenly, knowing it was the truth. "But Luke, I had a reason! You need to listen to me, please." Noah reached out to touch Luke's shoulder, feeling his stomach sink when Luke jerked away from the touch.

"Don't you dare tell me what the fuck I need to do." Luke snapped, throwing Noah's phone at him before crossing his arms tight against his chest, watching as Noah shoved the phone into his pants pocket. "You lied to me, Noah!" The accusation rang through the room, and the guilt that Noah had been carrying around with him nearly suffocated him.

"I had a reason, Luke!" Noah repeated, feeling as if he was talking to a brick wall. "I didn't do it to hurt you! God, Luke, I never wanted to hurt you."

"It's too damn late for that." Luke snapped back, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides.

"I'm sorry Luke, I just, I just didn't want…"

"I didn't ask for an apology, Noah." Luke cut in, his voice still cold as ice. "I asked why. Why didn't you trust me enough to talk to me?"

"It wasn't a matter of trust, Luke!" Noah cried, his exasperation and guilt disguised as anger. "I just didn't want you to freak out at me!"

"Freak out at you?" Luke laughed sarcastically, a hard edge entering his voice. "Freak out at you? Noah! How is this not a matter of trust? You didn't give me a single fucking chance to prove myself to you! You didn't trust me enough to tell me what was going on – instead you treated me like a child! You treated me as if," here, Luke had to swallow the lump that was building in his throat, "as if I could be lied to, manipulated – you treated me the same way your father always treated you."

The words caused Noah to physically step back in shock, and he missed the flash of regret that shot through Luke's eyes. Am I really like him? Luke had voiced Noah's worst fear, and they floated in Noah's ear, feeding his insecurities.

"You don't mean that." Noah whispered, a burning numbness spreading throughout his whole body. If Luke thinks I'm the same as the man that nearly killed him – I've wrecked everything. Still, his gaze clung to Luke in a desperation for his boyfriend to apologize, to say that he was wrong.

Instead, Luke looked straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Even if his boyfriend didn't mean what he had said, Noah knew he would be too stubborn to take it back. Feeling those words – "you treated me the same way your father treated you" – weighing down on him, pressing until he felt himself crumble, Noah turned to leave.

He was almost out of the room when he heard Luke's shuddering sigh, and paused his motions. Twisting his head over his shoulder, Noah saw Luke's eyes filling up with tears and heartbreak replacing the anger in his eyes.

"Luke," he called, watching as Luke swallowed heavily and attempted to glare at him, "I'm not running away. I'm just giving you time, but I'm going to be back. I – I love you, and I'm going to fight for you. I'm going to make this up to you." Knowing that if he stayed any longer, he would end up on his knees and begging Luke's forgiveness, Noah turned on his heel and left the room, the door swinging softly shut behind him.

The moment Noah was gone, the airs deflated out of Luke until he looked like a child, lost and confused in matters too big for him. He felt tears stinging in his eyes, a contrast to the betrayal and anger that had his body trembling. No!, he thought, casting his gaze around the room, I'm not going to cry over this, overhim." It wasn't just his hurt that made him want to sink to his knees and cry; it was the knowledge of what he'd said to Noah, of how he'd dove straight for Noah's biggest insecurity and manipulated it, manipulated him.

"How can I be so damn angry at Noah, and yet feel like this for hurting him? Hell, how can I hurt him like that when I love him so fucking much?" Luke asked out loud, his hands running through his hair roughly. One some level, he knew what he'd said wasn't true; Noah was nothing like the bigot who'd raised him. And yet he was too stubborn to admit it, even to himself.


This isn't working, I need to calm down… to stop thinking.
Luke looked around his room for a distraction, anything to calm the commotion within him. Seeing nothing, he stepped into his adjoining bathroom to splash his face with water in hopes it would calm him down. Luke winced as he smashed his hip into the side of the bathroom's sink, knocking over a bar of soap. Bending to pick it up, he set it by the tap before his eye was caught by his gray razor, lying innocently on the sink's edge.

Thinking back, Luke remembered how pain managed to clear his head, how the press of his fingernail's against skin would calm him down. Would a razor do that? I could try it - just one cut. It would be an experiment; it won't matter, it's not like I have a problem. Just one, and I'll be able to think again. Just one... that'll be enough. Luke stared at the razor lying on the counter next to the sink. He picked it up, his every movement overly precise, as if he couldn't afford to take a misstep.

Angling his arm overtop of the porcelain white sink, Luke slowly brought the sharp blade to rest on the inside of forearm. I just need to drag it, just a little. That's it; how hard can it be?

Luke felt his arm tense, felt the razor shake against him as what he knew was right and what he wanted to be right fought a violent war in his mind. The clarity that he instinctively knew would come with the sting of the razor blade was tempered by his fear of what he was doing; of doing something that he had once promised himself he never would. Fingernails and car keys were one thing; using a razor made everything painfully real.

He dug the blade into his arm, but couldn't make it move. His entire body was trembling, yet he couldn't bring himself to move the damn razor.

A shuddered breath escaped his lips as the razor fell into the sink, clinking against the white ceramic. Luke clapped both of his hands over his mouth in horror as he realized what he had been about to do. Mindlessly walking to the door, he pressed his back to it and sunk to the ground, his hands loping around his knees and pulling them tight to his chest.

So many emotions were flitting through his mind that he could barely recognize them all, yet alone process them. His anger and shock, despair and guilt, and most of all, fear. He feared for Noah, despite his anger at him, who would be devastated if he ever realized what Luke was tempted to do so damn badly. He feared for his family, who wouldn't be able to handle another emotional crisis. And he feared for himself, for what he might end up doing if he couldn't get control of himself and his emotions - soon.

It was fear that drove him to stand up, not courage or determination. It was his fear that brought him to the side of his desk, with a yellow phonebook in one hand and his cell in another. And ultimately, it was his fear that led him to dial the number in that black print under the name Nelson, R.

"Doctor Nelson? This is Luke Snyder; I would like to book an appointment with you. Yes… it's for me. Why? I think- I think I have a problem."

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Noah was driving to Oakdale PD, unaware of Luke's emotional crisis. Instead, he found his thoughts chasing each other in a circle that didn't seem to end. I shouldn't have lied to him! – But I did, and now I have to make it right – He overreacted – But I lied to him! Every cell in Noah's body was begging for him to turn his truck around, drive back to Luke and plead his side of what had happened.

Instead, he took a deep breath and drew his father's lessons to the forefront of his mind. The Colonel had always believed in controlling ones actions and ones emotions, and Noah found that even though remembering Winston's lessons made his stomach roll, it helped keep him focused on the task at hand. Maybe I am like him.

When he finally pulled into the parking lot, he barely remembered to lock his door before he jogged into the building. Making a beeline to the front desk, he sighed in relief when he realized that the secretary was the same girl that had helped him with Kevin days prior.

"Anna?" He asked, feeling relief as she looked up. Thank god I got her name right.

"Noah, right?" Anna asked flirtatiously, smiling when Noah nodded. "How can I help you today?"

"I need to talk to Dallas Griffin." Noah replied, fidgeting on the spot. "Is he in?"

Glancing down, Anna scanned some papers before looking up. "He was supposed to leave two hours ago, but I'm pretty sure he's still in his office. Do you know where that is?" Noah nodded and muttered a hasty "thanks" before he was gone, barely containing his urge to run down the hallway.

When he reached the door, he knocked and waited for a response. When none came, he called out "Dallas?" before twisting the door knob experimentally. Seeing that the door wasn't locked, Noah gently pushed his way in.

Dallas was sitting on a rolling chair, one hand pressed against his forehead as if it was propping his head up, while the other was rubbing his throat. He was staring at his desk, and hadn't seemed to have heard Noah's knock.

Stepping closer, Noah called "Dallas?" again, watching as the man jumped in his chair. His hand moved off of his neck, and Noah found himself gasping at the angry red mark that was just visible against his dark complexion.

"What happened?" Noah asked in reflex, nodding his chin at Dallas's throat. Dallas opened his mouth as if to answer before wincing and closing it again. He grabbed a bottle of water off of his desk and took a slow sip before he attempted to answer Noah's question again.

"Angry friend." Dallas croaked out, his voice so raspy that it made Noah wince in sympathy. Although Noah was curious as to who the 'angry friend' was, and what Dallas could've done to piss someone off that badly, he let it slide. After all, he was here about the investigation.

Dallas seemed to remember that as well; he sat up straighter in his chair and beckoned for Noah to sit in an extra chair, although he left his hand around his throat.

"So you're here… about my phone calls?" Dallas asked, his voice still rough. Noah couldn't imagine how painful the conversation was for Dallas, who looked as if he'd been strangled. He felt his respect for Dallas double as he took a deep breath in response to Noah's murmur of agreement.

"I went to talk to Kevin today." Dallas rasped out, his sentences clipped. "He told me he had a flashback about… who he met for lunch that day."

Out of everything Noah had been expecting, that was definitely not it. "Who was it?" Noah asked, impatient. "And Dallas," he said as he pulled his chair in closer, "whisper, for gods sakes. Your throat must hurt like crazy with that kind of bruising."

Dallas cast a relieved glance at Noah before he pulled his chair in closer and continued his story. The hushed tone was difficult to hear, but to Noah it was worth it; he didn't want to see the other man suffer anymore than he had to.

"Kevin… he's not all there." Dallas whispered, "mentally, at least. I think the guilt of what he's done is killing him. So don't take this without a grain of doubt, Noah, because he could be raving."

"Okay, fine." Noah replied, his fear-based curiosity getting the best of him, "who was it?"

"He said… he said he remembered it was a 'father'." Dallas replied, taking another sip of water as he studied Noah's dumbstruck face.

"A father?" Noah repeated, his derision clear in his voice. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? How many father's are in Oakdale?" Noah stood up to leave, feeling a heavy disappointment setting in. He was stopped when Dallas reached over and physically pushed him back down in his chair by his shoulder.

"Noah…" he said carefully, "he told me that his last thought was that it was 'odd that his father was back in town,' and something else about the dinner. Now, who's father has recently come back into Oakdale?"

The answer floated in Noah's mind, but he didn't want to give voice to it. "Damian?" he asked anyways, voicing the name both of the men were thinking. "You thinkDamian did this? No!" Noah knew he was sounding unreasonable, but he couldn't help it. "Damian's Luke's father! He loves him; he wouldn't do that to him."

"Noah, last time Damian was back in town, I was the officer at the scene when he was nearly arrested." Dallas's voice was gaining passion as he continued to speak. "Damian- he's not safe. He is willing to do anything to get what he wants. I wouldn't put this past him."

"But… to kill his son's brother?" Noah whispered, the words truly registering in his mind. Some small part of him saw Luke and Damian as a repeat of him and his father; both estranged, but if they could make up, then maybe Noah and the Colonel could, too. It was a stupid fantasy, one he knew would never happen, but he hadn't realized how important it had been to him until Dallas's words crushed it.

"Noah, do you know what Damian's done in his past?" Dallas asked gently.

"I know that he lied to Luke before, and that he tried to kidnap him as a child." Noah replied, thinking back to the conversation he had with Luke after the Colonel's death. "And I know that he didn't approve of Luke being gay. But that was in the past, wasn't it?"

"Noah… that wasn't all he did." Dallas said sadly, his fingers rubbing rhythmically on his bruised skin. "When Luke was a child, he forged both Luke's and Holden's deaths after an explosion. Damian's brother, Dante, locked them in a tower in Malta, and when Lily figured out what had happened, he kidnapped her as well. Damian tried to stop Dante, but nearly died. Lucinda saved him; she arrived and killed Dante."

Noah's mouth was agape, and Dallas reluctantly continued to drive his point home. "Damian left after that, but arrived back to Oakdale three years ago. Lily was still in denial about Luke being gay, and it was causing a rift between her, Luke and Holden. Damian widened that rift and convinced Luke that his family didn't want him. He arranged to have Luke sent off to a 'de-gaying camp'," Dallas couldn't disguise the loathing in his voice, "but made Luke believe it was his mother's idea. She was pregnant with Ethan, and fell down a flight of stairs while they were arguing, and was in a coma for months."

"Lily… was in a coma?" Noah asked, his eyes wide as he tried to process the information. Dallas nodded grimly.

"Damian needed Luke's inheritance to pay off his enemies." Dallas continued, Noah nodding in remembrance. "So he told Luke he was dying to convince him to go to Malta. Luke's cousin Lucy found out, and Damian had his thugs tie both her and Dusty Donovan to a pole in the Fairwind's wine cellar. It exploded due to a gas leak, but Lucy and Dusty got out just in time – thank god."

"Is that it?" Noah asked numbly. "Luke never, he never told me any of this." The realization of the pain Damian had inflicted on Luke caused a shiver to run up Noah's spine.

"No, Damian's friend tried to kidnap Luke. He had a gun to his head; the only reason Luke escaped was because he kept his wits about him. But Noah, I was there when Luke discovered the truth." Dallas's voice grew fainter as he remembered the past. "This… it killed a part of him, I think. That's why he doesn't talk about it, it hurts him too much."

"God, Luke." Noah whispered, more to himself than to Dallas. "If I'd known…"

"Now you do, and there's nothing you can do about the past." Dallas rasped, shaking his head to rid it of memories from the past. "And Noah, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to help you with this investigation." A tinge of regret entered Dallas's voice.

"Am I risking your job? I'm sorry, Dallas, I shouldn't have asked you for help." Noah stood up, unable to stay sitting any longer.

"No!" Dallas yelled, wincing as the words tore at his throat. "It's just that Eric found out about me working on the case behind his back. He wasn't happy."

"Eric, as in the Constable?" Noah asked. "You would think that he would appreciate the extra help."

"He didn't," Dallas replied shortly, his fingers unconsciously grazing the bruise, "and I wouldn't be surprised if he gets me fired."

Watching Dallas's fingers move across his throat, a thought jumped to Noah's mind and it spilled out of him before he could stop it. "Did Eric do that?" Noah was expecting a "no" or a laugh, so when Dallas's weighty silence confirmed it, he couldn't help the gasp that tore from his chest. "Why? Did you report him?"

"He was mad." Dallas stated simply. "And Noah, don't say anything, I can deal with this myself. Now, do you have any other questions?" Although he was abrupt, Dallas wasn't being rude, at least in Noah's opinion anyway.

"No… I think I'm good." Noah answered, "at least on the investigation front." A small, needy part of Noah wanted Dallas to pry at that statement, to ask Noah what hedid need help with, to give Noah an opening to talk about him and Luke. Instead, Dallas nodded absently and stood up.

"I've got to head home," he said, "but maybe you should talk to Kevin? He might open up to you. He's in the same room he was in the last time you were here; they're sending him to the county jail tomorrow."

"Okay." Noah agreed, walking over to the door to exit Dallas's office. Turning around, he saw Dallas staring off into space. "Are you coming?" Noah asked, watching the other man closely.

"I just need a minute to gather my stuff." Dallas replied, his gaze travelling along his cramped office. "Call me if you find anything out from Kevin."

Noah nodded in agreement before stepping out of the office and closing the door. Leaning against the wall, he gave himself a brief minute to compose himself. Damian?The name fluttered through his head, coupled with thoughts of his fight with Luke. That's why Luke was so mad that I lied to him, deceived him. His own father did it to him for months.

Noah knew he should head home and talk to Luke, but he needed to talk to Kevin first. The urge, the drive that was pushing him to this investigation felt bigger than him, and had more sway over him than his own thoughts did. It was how he felt when he was determined to sign up for the army, trying to make up for his fathers mistakes. Only now, Noah realized, the driving force was his memories of Ethan, and how badly Noah wanted to discover the truth.

The insight hit Noah hard, but he refused to let himself dwell on it. He headed to the cell that Kevin had been in the last time he'd visited the station, only to smash into someone as he rounded a corner. The man he'd hit had been talking on his phone, and the cell went flying to the floor, along with papers, pictures, Noah's phone, and Noah himself.

Looking up, Noah saw surprised green eyes staring back at him, framed by blonde hair and a scuplted face.

"Constable Harrington?"

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This was an extremely hard chapter to write, especially the scene involving Luke; his struggles hit close to home. Let me know if you loved it or hated it!